#Younger Peggy
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monsterinamug · 3 months ago
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Fic: Welcome to New York (9/?)
Title: Welcome to New York Relationship: Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers Rating: T (just recently) Work summary: When Peggy makes a letter to be sent to South America, somehow, her letter ends up on the opposite side of America. With that change of path, Peggy didn't expect the surprise it brought along.
They are at a point in their life where everything is complicated because of the choices they made before. And now, will they keep a blind eye for the sake of their happiness?
Read the latest chapter (9):
https://archiveofourown.org/works/47036617/chapters/150305224
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shapercreater · 1 year ago
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Day 1 of AnthroNorthwest today! Finally convinced my brother to come with me today and help me with Peggy this year, gonna be back tomorrow with my Mom and gonna try and make some friends and maybe actually do the Fursuit Parade this year!
(also a big thank you again to @moonpaw for the name tag! We actually went out and ended up basing the rest of her outfit after the sketch for the con!)
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thepeculiarbird · 11 months ago
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Sooo, I wrote a scene for a wip idea I have yesterday. I was half-asleep and still wonder how I was writing with my eyes closed. I just checked and oh wow, don't ever let me write at 11pm on phone in the notes app ever again. This is not my writing style and it's not good lol. I didn't even finish it.
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th3d0nutl0rd · 1 year ago
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Steve Rodgers has 2 hands and if marvel weren't pussies he would've made out with Peggy and Bucky on screen
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fearsomeandwretched · 10 months ago
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Mochi loves to be picked up and carried around lol
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idkwhatever580 · 3 months ago
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Embarrassed
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Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x enhanced!reader (Reader has powers like Wanda's but pink because I'm the author and I can do what I want, and my fav color is pink)
Prompt: Reader's best friend Wanda informs reader about this new thing she learned with Agatha that amped up their sex life. Reader decides to try it out with Nat, and the outcome is better than expected.
Warnings: SMUT, enchanted strap, bondage, slapping, daddy kink (daddy is not a reflection of your gender just a term I used i swear!) cumming without permission?/warning?, swearing, tmi? (Is there such thing as tmi between best friends?), teasing. Top!Reader (semi soft)
A/N: I already had this in my drafts partially finished but then I got a rq and I thought I could incorporate it into this so yeah :) thanks for the request @keirannoa420 <3 (I made reader afab but I think I made them gn for everything else I hope that isn't a problem!)
Today is a simple day for the Avengers. Almost nobody is on a mission today, so everyone is doing their own thing to decompress and rest. Especially since last week was horrible. It was just mission after mission for you and the others.
From what you know, Tony and Bruce are in their lab, Steve and Buck went on a date after visiting Peggy's grave to give her the monthly flowers, Clint went back with his family, Thor and Loki are back at Asgard until needed, Nat is reading in her library, Agatha is in a therapy session (she is still healing from her witchy trauma, good on her!), Vision is probably floating around somewhere, Peter is with Aunt May, the rest of the younger ones are out and about, while you and Wanda are catching up on a much-needed yapping session.
"Omg did you hear what happened on Sam and Tony's mission yesterday?"
You sit up being intrigued, "No, what happened?"
She giggles at the thought of what happened, and says, "He- he"
She can't even tell you what happened without bursting into laughter. "He what! Oh my gosh stop laughing and tell me what happened!"
Your need to hear what happened overpowering your patience, but Wanda eventually can control her laughs into a soft snicker every now and then, "He had to run into the building instead of his usual flying, and he ended up slipping and falling on his back and rolling around because it was raining! Sam got the whole thing recorded thanks to redwing!"
You burst into laughter at the thought of Tony slipping, this surely hurt his ego more than anything. You gasp and say, "Wait... can I see the video? Do you have it?"
She laughs and grabs her phone, "Of course I have the video! I would say I'm surprised you don't have it, but I forgot your phone broke."
You roll your eyes at the reminder of not having a phone to do your daily social media things, but Nat says you need a break from your phone. Joke's on her, you're just bothering her more. (She secretly likes it)
You're drawn away from your thoughts when Wanda holds her phone to your face, the video of Tony slipping funnier than you pictured.
(volume is not necessary for this one)
You both started laughing so hard that tears fell from your eyes, but you both eventually calmed down and were able to change the subject. "So, how's Aggie? I feel like I haven't seen her in months even though I've only been on a mission for a week."
She smiles softly and says, "She's good. Her twice-a-week therapy sessions are really impacting her in a good way. I think she might be having a bit of a hard time adjusting to the Avengers though. She still gets overwhelmed sometimes. Which is what I was scared about. I didn't want to bring her into this space after nine whole months of secretly dating just for her to regress on her progress, but I think she is getting there. Her communication skills are definitely getting better which is helping me accommodate to her needs you know?"
You smile and nod knowingly, "Yeah, I remember coming here for the first time from being a S.H.E.I.L.D. agent, it was terrifying, but my relationship with Nat only grew from where we were. Something is bound to blossom from her too. Anything else interesting with you two?"
Wanda sends me a small smirk and says, "I've been trying out new spells and tricks to cast and I happened to fall upon an interesting spell."
You raise an eyebrow with a tentative voice, "Interesting how?"
She giggles and says, "Okay, so obviously we talk about our sex lives a lot together, but this spell just made bedroom time way better. It's a spell to make an inanimate object basically a part of you. You can feel it and everything that happens to it. So, I tested this spell out on a certain strap-on that we use and let me just say I've never felt so good before. I think you should really try it on Nat, the first time I did it to Aggie, she literally cried because she felt so good."
You raise your eyebrows suggestively and say, "That is quite the interesting find Wands. I'm impressed. You'll have to show me the spell. I think I might try it out on Natty tonight if I can do it right.
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After a few tries of this new spell with Wanda, you're able to feel everything that happens to the tv remote in your leg. You smirk at Wanda and go to exit the room just as Agatha comes back. You send your goodbyes and almost sprint to Natasha's library, making sure to stop by your room to get a certain backpack.
The joys of having your own floor with Natasha means that the things on that floor are only used by the both of you, unless otherwise provoked. So, you know nobody is going to be walking into this space. This also means that you guys can literally fuck anywhere on that floor, but you are so excited to try this spell on her.
You slow down right before you enter and you saunter in, even though Nat has her noise cancelling headphones on, so you know she won't hear you. You come up behind her and softly rest your arms on her shoulders slowly creeping down to kiss her cheek.
She pulls off her headphones and says, "Hello detka. Do you need anything?"
You simply nod your head and give her a soft kiss on the lips to distract her before carefully snatching the current book she is invested in. She lets go of it but not without a pout, "Baby, I was reading that."
You carefully set the book down after putting a bookmark in. Then you walk around and pull her headphones off her ears which makes her even more confused. Until you sit in her lap and snuggle up to her neck. She softly smiles and starts rubbing patterns on your back. "Aww baby, did you want cuddles?"
You nod your head innocently and she says, "Well I can do that while also reading my book so can I have it back?"
You shake your head, and she realizes there's something else you want. She raises an eyebrow, and skeptically says, "What else is it? Did you do something?"
You pull away from her neck and shake your head, "No, I didn't do nothin', but I'm 'bout to."
She furrows her beautiful brows in confusion but notices the glint in your eyes. She knows this look; she has seen it a million times before. How could she miss it? So, she pouts and says, "Aww is my detka a bit horny?"
You nod your head and whisper, "I want to try something new today."
She smirks and nods, always willing to try everything once, well, almost everything. "Of course, detka, what is it you were wanting to try?"
You smile and say, "You're gonna have to wait and find out."
She rolls her eyes at your antics, but you kiss her on the lips and the words that were on the tip of her tongue fade away quickly.
You both start making out softly, a tenderness infiltrates your hearts that only you two can replicate with each other. The kiss quickly turns aggressive though. Her hands falling to your hips to steady them when they start to move on their own, while yours go to her hair to softly tug on the luscious, fiery locks.
Moans start to spill out of you when your core starts to rub on her thigh, and she starts to unbutton your pants trying to get directly to the source, but you push her away. Before she can question your antics, you reach behind her lounge chair to grab the backpack and wave it in front of her face. She smiles and you both stand up to undress yourselves, not bothering to do it for the other, instead choosing efficiency.
Once she has the strap securely tightened around her hips, you push her back down and sit just before the silicon cock, butt resting on her thighs. "I need you to hold still and be quiet for a moment, okay?"
She furrows her brows and says, "Wait, what are you doing?"
You smile at her and say, "I just need you to trust me so I can work my magic." You kiss her doubts away and whisper, "I think you're going to quite like this."
You cast the spell silently and when it is done, you look in her eyes and there is nothing, but confusion written all over her face. "What did you do?"
You smirk and spit on your hand before softly rubbing the tip of the dildo making her hips jerk. "Woah."
You smirk and say, "Woah indeed. Did that feel good?"
She nods her head and says, "Seriously Y/n, what did you do to me?"
You giggle and say, "I made you be able to feel everything like it is your own."
You shimmy your body down to be eye level with the pink sparkly attachment, and you look up into her eyes with yours being doe like from this angle and you slowly take her length into your mouth.
This new sensation causing Nat to moan helplessly and thread her fingers through your hair. You softly start to play with yourself and stretch yourself out, while making sure to not give her too much stimulation. Once you deem yourself ready to take her, you pull away and Nat glares at you. "Why'd you pull away?"
You smile and kiss her worries away, "So I can do this..."
You grab the attachment and slowly slide yourself onto her. Moaning at the size. She always seems to be so big even when you take her all the time. She moans extra loud when you take her to the hilt, and suddenly her hips jerk and her eyes roll to the back of her head.
You force her to look into your eyes and then you start to bounce up and down while grinding onto her.
Although you are feeling very good, your sole intention is to make Nat feel good today. "How does it feel baby?"
She opens her mouth to say something, but only a measly gasp is heard. After a while, she finally is able to conjure a sentence, "Fuck... it feels- so good."
You smirk and say, "Yeah? You like feeling this pussy clench around you?"
She whimpers and nods her head biting her lip to stifle her sounds. Usually you wouldn't let that slide, but since it is her first time feeling this, you'll give her some grace.
You start to bounce up and down on her cock more aggressively and her hands tighten around your hips. She is completely still excepting the few involuntary thrusts her hips make, which make you moan at the spot she hits when she does this.
Nat's head is thrown back and she finally lets go of her lip, allowing all the beautiful sounds to tumble out of her throat. Her pathetic noises are so hot to you and even hotter when she tries to speak, "Y/n I- it feels, I-"
All of a sudden, her words are cut off with an almost pornographic moan, which makes you so wet because you never hear her be this vocal. Her hips start thrusting into you uncontrollably and her hands are scratching into your hips, not that you care.
You furrow your eyebrows as hers raise in surprise and embarrassment. You slow down and say, "Did you... did you just cum?"
Natasha lets out an exhausted breath and looks at anything but you, until you move her by her chin to look into your eyes. When she sees your eyes, she tears up a bit, "I'm sorry I don't know what's wrong with me! I usually last way longer than that! I wasn't even prepared for it; it just sprang up on me."
She starts to ramble, so you shut her up with a kiss and when you pull away you chuckle softly, "Natty baby, I don't know why you came so fast, but I'll bet you it has something to do with the fact that this spell makes you feel things you've never felt before huh?"
She nods her head, and you smile, "Do you want to keep going or do you want to stop?"
She frowns and says, "I want you to cum."
You smile and shake your head, "That's not what I asked darling, I asked about you."
She thinks about it, and then a nasty thought pops into her brain, and she says, "I wanna keep going."
So, you nod your head, and keep moving and grinding on her, this time she makes it about five minutes before the same thing happens.
You become beyond confused as it looks like she just came again. Once she calms down, you tentatively ask, "Did you just... again?"
Her eyes widen and her face turns redder than her hair. She tears up a bit and tries to shove you off of her to inevitably run off and hide from her embarrassment, but you push on her hips, and she moans again. She still tries to get away, so you cut her thoughts off with soft tone saying, "Darling, don't worry, it's okay if you did, you know? It is a new sensation, and it is normal to have a crazy reaction to it."
She previously covered her red face with her hands to hide, so you carefully pull her hands down and smile at her small frame. "Tasha, why are you hiding from me?"
She finally cracks and says, "Because! That was so embarrassing! I've never finished that fast! So, I am embarrassed because I didn't even get to last long enough to have fun, and don't even mention the fact that you didn't get anything out of it!"
You pout at her with fake pity, "Oh darling," You brush her already sweaty hair out of her face and clench your pussy on her strap making her moan at the feeling, "You don't have to worry about that, trust me, we are going to have fun all night. You'll be begging me to stop."
She timidly nods her head, and you say, "Is that okay?"
She nods and says, "I really want to keep going."
You smile and nod your head, but before you can start riding her again, she pulls you off of her swiftly and flips you over on your hands and knees, slipping right back into your wet cunt.
She leans over to whisper in your ear, "I'm gonna fuck this pussy so hard."
You can only moan in response because she's already thrusting deep and hard into your insides. You consider giving in to her and letting her take over, but you already made your mind up ahead of time and she is not getting in your way. So, with a flick of your wrist, she is flipped over, and ropes appear and tie themselves around her wrists.
You crawl up to her as the pink glimmers fade from your eyes, and shake your head, "Thought you could get away with it huh?"
She doesn't answer and you slap her breast making her jerk and yelp out, "I asked you a question, didn't I?"
She meekly nods her head, and you say, "Then I expect you to answer it."
She nods her head again and you say, "Don't make me ask again."
"Yes! I thought I could get away with it! Please daddy!"
You bite your lip at the power trip you're getting from this, but you make sure to soften up and check on Nat knowing she only uses 'daddy' when she's extra sensitive, "I want you to use the color system just like always, okay? Can you tell me a color?"
She doesn't even hesitate before saying, "Yes! Green, please daddy!"
A sigh falls from your lips at hearing that and you nod your head. "Okay baby, you know I'm not gonna be nice to you right?"
She whimpers and nods her head closing her eyes to center herself. You smirk and flip her over, making the dildo hit the bed when you push her hips down on the bed.
She moans out and you lean forward, your lips brushing softly over the shell of her ear, and you whisper, "Do not cum."
Her eyes widen and she shakes her head knowing she's already sensitive from previous orgasms, and she whines out, "No! Please daddy!"
You chuckle at her desperation and say, "If you're good tonight, I'll find a spell to make it so that you can cum in me too."
She shudders at the thought of being able to "breed" you and both of you feel it, so regardless of how much she already wants to cum, she nods her head and takes a breath to prepare herself.
Right before you are about to start, she yelps out, "Wait!"
You freeze in worry that she doesn't want this anymore, so you pause and look to her and let her speak. Her words come out the first time a quiet jumbled mess so you say, "What was that babe?"
She looks over her shoulder and says a little louder this time, "Can I hold a pillow?"
You think about it for a moment, and ultimately decide that if you're not going to comfort her until after, she might as well have something else to find comfort in, so you nod your head and she grabs a pillow. Once she is situated you wait for her queue and when she nods her head you begin to massage her ass a bit before pulling back and landing a harsh slap on her butt.
Natasha's hips jerk away from your hand, and in turn makes her strap rut against the bed stimulating her. She lets out a mix between a moan and a groan because she feels good, but she also knows you put limitations on her.
You continue your assault on her now red and pink ass, and the lewd sounds that are emitting from Nat's throat are making you more wet than you'd like to admit.
You slap her ass again, and she starts to uncontrollably hump the mattress, and you won't allow her to cum without asking so you grab her hips and lift them from the bed before she can stimulate herself any further. She groans and pleads, "Please. ugh please I need it!"
You simply chuckle and shake your head, "Need it so bad you're willing to give up cumming for a week?"
Her eyes widen at that threat and she whimpers knowing she might not be able to hold back since the last two came out of nowhere, but you lay her back down and say, "two more, then you can cum again."
She nods her head, crossing her fingers that she makes it, and out of nowhere the second to last slap is let out on her skin. It is way harder than all the others, so in turn, it makes Nat almost forget about what you said. Almost.
You hum and rub her ass tenderly, not letting her know when the last one is coming, and the second she whimpers again you pull back and hit her ass so hard it has her shoving her hips back into you.
She catches her breath and rolls around. You tell her to hold still as you are about to disenchant the strap, but Nat says, "Wait, baby, what are you doing?"
You furrow your brows and say, "I thought you said you were done after this orgasm?"
She nods and says, "I held it, I wanna cum with you on my cock."
Her eyes are so sweet and soft you simply can't refuse, so you let her win this time, riding her cock until the both of you come, and then you end up just laying together in a moment of tenderness.
"I love you detka."
"I love you too Natty, I'm glad you liked the surprise."
"Oh, I loved it."
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Masterlist
Taglist
@ilovesnat @ihartnat @marvelnatasha12346 @moistblobfish @justarandomreaderxoxo @lovelyy-moonlight @symp4nat @ale-estrabao
Comment to be added to the taglist!!! I have a list of prompts coming out after this :)))
A/N: I hope y'all liked it!!! (Did you catch my Love and Death reference???) Also, I apologize for the rushed ending, I really needed to get this out.
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adrienneleclerc · 3 months ago
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Just A Bunch of Hocus Pocus
Summary: What i believe your couples costume would be with the F1 Drivers
Warning: spelling and grammatical errors
A/N: Drivers include Charles Leclerc, Lando Norris, Logan Sargeant, Oscar Piastri, Lewis Hamilton, Carlos Sainz, Max Verstappen, and the newest addition of Daniel Ricciardo. Most of the costumes were my idea but when i was stumped, i used Chat GPT
Charles Leclerc: Since Charles loves Harry Potter, i believe you two would dress up as Harry and Ginny or dress up in Hogwarts "uniforms" in general with the robe, tie, and scarf of your house. Maybe you guys would be Lightning McQueen and Sally because you sent him so many memes comparing him to Lightning McQueen. I also see you guys being Mr. and Mrs. Smith because who wouldn't want to see Charles in a suit?
Lando Norris: You two would dress up as Spider-Man and MJ/Gwen Stacy, depending on which movie or character you prefer. Han Solo and Princess Leia are also on the table, along with Mario and Princess Peach, that way you and the whole Quadrant crew can dress up as character from Super Mario Bros.
Logan Sargeant: You and the American Boy will dress up as Captain America and Peggy Carter, no question about it. Also, you two could dress up as an athlete and a cheerleader since he is, as Alex puts it, so painfully American. But to make it even better, you guys would go as Nathan and Haley from One Tree Hill OR Troy and Gabriella because whats more American than High School Musical?
Oscar Piastri: You two would be Tinkerbell and Terrence after making him watch all the movies with you. Iron Man and Pepper Potts if he wanted to go the superhero route like Logan. But he would also agree to doing a group costume with your friends and going as Numbah 3 and 4 from Codename: Kids Next Door which was one of your favorite cartoons from when you were younger, mainly because Numbah 4 is Australian as well.
Lewis Hamilton: I believe you guys would go as Michael Jackson and Britney Spears from that live performance with the green sparkling dress OR the event photo where Michael was wearing a red shirt and Britney had the leather newsboy cap since Lewis is very fashion forward. The Mad Hatter and Alice is another good one because of how elaborate the Mad Hatter suits are, it would be perfect for Lewis. Also because of your (my) obsession with Criminal Minds, you guys could go as Derek Morgan and Penelope Garcia because who wouldn't want to be his baby girl?
Carlos Sainz: El Matador, el matador!! You guys would go as el Zorro and Elena and would look so cute! Another is Jack Sparrow and Angelica Teach (Puss in Boots and Kitty Softpaws if you guys want to be a little silly). However, Carlos would absolutely lose it if you guys went as Seth Gecko and Santanico Pandemonium from the movie From Dusk Til Dawn.
Max Verstappen: After you find out that Max hasn't seen the Halloween MASTERPIECE that is Hocus Pocus, you make him watch it with you and you guys dress up as Winifred Sanderson (or Sarah) and Billy Butcherson. You would also dress up as Richard Gere and Julia Roberts from Pretty Woman. I can also imagine you guys going as Hiccup and Astrid from How To Train Your Dragon so Max would be able to dress his cats as your respective dragons
Daniel Ricciardo: Hands down you guys will dress up as Woody and Bo Peep because the man LOVES to dress up as a cowboy. Barbie and Ken in their cowboy outfits is also a choice for your guys' costumes. I think he would love the idea of him being a cowboy and you as a saloon girl like in Westworld
The End
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sarahreesbrennan · 3 months ago
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Another Interesting Spoilery Evil Question
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To directly answer the question before I start rambling, the Cobra’s body’s physical age is 24.
(You can stop reading here if you like. This gets very long!)
When Marius meets the Cobra (chapter 18 epigraph from Time of Iron) he correctly identifies him as Marius’s own age at the time - 18.
At the time of the book all the physical bodies’ ages are as follows.
Marius - 24
The Cobra - 24
Rahela - 24
Octavian - 24
(Pio and Nemeth, Octavian’s advisers, are in their early 40s and late 50s respectively - they’re Octavian’s dad’s people and that is part of why they are so stressed. Their king died young, Octavian became king in his teens and it has been an uneasy court ever since.)
Emer - 23
Key - 20
Lia - 19
Rae and Eric in our world were both 4 years younger than their bodies in this world (so they would both be 20 if the story hadn’t happened to them). For the moment we’ll leave aside Key, who had another life too, in a different way. (He was a little kid, but old enough to walk after his father, in the epigraph from Time of Iron in chapter 15.)
I do age shenanigans for two reasons.
—One is that age in fiction and reality is weird, and I wanted to portray that. If I had a crush on Mr Darcy when I was 7, is that okay? If I had a crush on Mr Darcy when aged 41, is that okay? Mr Darcy’s always in his late twenties: Elizabeth Bennet will never be older than 21, but she seemed so glamorous and all-knowing to me when I was a kid.
And if you walk into a story, when in their character development do you find them? Would we like Darcy when he’s sneering at Elizabeth at a ball? Who is it that we love and when?
Plenty of adult women fancied Edward Cullen, perpetually a teen (or was he? Fantasy and horror also open up the possibility of immortality - but in a way, all fictional characters are immortal. Holden Caulfield isn’t growing up any more than Edward Cullen is. And like fictional characters and immortals, the dead aren’t getting any older either—I think often of Anne Rice, author of the Vampire Chronicles, who wrote the doomed child vampire Claudia after losing her own daughter Michele as a child. Death, immortality, fiction and the overlap!) When I read or watched stories in which characters were in different/changed bodies they usually seemed younger - often their younger selves, or a younger/cuter body (Peggy Sue Got Married, Scarlet Heart). (Exceptions exist of course, e.g. Howl’s Moving Castle.) And I like magic losing something, costing you something, plus I’m a contrarian. So I wanted them older.
—The other is that LONG LIVE EVIL is a story about trauma, which often arrests your age in your mind. The period in which you were enduring the horrors is a blank in which you couldn’t develop normally, or in which you had plenty of experiences but few of them match with your peers’.
Cancer did it to me, which wasn’t horrendous as I was in my early 30s and that’s still adult, just meant a bit of ‘oh no I’m not this child’s mother, I’m too young - actually I’m a bit old to be this child’s mother now I think about it, but anyway I don’t claim her’ and the like. But I’ve seen it do the same for people with cancer I befriended or whom I mentor, and it’s a very different proposition if the lost years are 17-21.
It’s not just cancer, I’ve seen bereavement work that way on people, and apparently celebrity works on the mind like trauma and arrests you at the age you became famous in a lot of ways. It’s being taken out of the run of ordinary life, walking through your portal into strangeness.
But in the end most of us wind up with years that feel lost, I think, and playing catch-up is the only way forward.
And allegory remains allegory: if I’m writing a werewolf I’m taking about rage and body horror, sure, but I’m also talking about werewolves.
I was actually confused by this ask at first as I’d written a whole section where Eric says he’s going to die of a heart attack at 20 and Marius is exasperated as Eric is a little young to start lying about his age! But it must have fallen victim to my many cuts - stories transform! - and I can see why, because I don’t think Eric exactly thinks of himself as 20 anymore.
I had some struggles with the age stuff, it’s another layer of complication in a complicated story and there were worries raised that it was unnecessary and might make some characters less appealing but in the end I decided it was necessary to me and let the characters be unappealing, then.
I also enjoy the twisting, fluid ages because they cause conflict, and conflict is story.
Rae uses her new age (and thus doesn’t need to think of her absolutely horrible self worth) to count herself out as a romantic option in Key’s eyes.
She also thinks of the Emperor as in his mid-20s, as he is - after a time skip that happens in the original Time of Iron, years in which Key and Emer were Lia’s servants. She knows about those years, but she doesn’t put it together.
At Eric and Marius’s first meeting 6 years before the events of LONG LIVE EVIL, Eric also hasn’t been in the book that long. He was in a horrifically traumatic survival situation for a large part of the time he was inside, when he approached Marius to blackmail him. That is objectively a deranged thing to do, but Eric is thinking like a terrified 14 year old and also like a Huge Fan of Marius. aka the quintessential white knight, the Last Hope who is reserved and dignified and crucially, 24-28.
That would be the Marius Eric at the time knows when he approaches Marius in the flesh, Marius at 18 and coming off family trauma, friend trauma and quasi-romantic trauma himself. Marius actually DOES go into dissociative states and kill people, Eric was taking a huge risk with his own life that not a single person in the country would have taken. Marius is a Valerius, and they are killers. (The whole court, Marius included, thought Lady Katalin ((Rahela’s mother)) was being very daring by like, touching Marius’s hand when he was 17.)
Eric is acting wild partly because a) he is wild, b) he’s desperate but also crucially c) he’s thinking of Marius as someone that Marius isn’t yet and d) he’s not thinking of things from Marius’s POV, and doesn’t until the events of LONG LIVE EVIL. Their quasi friendship/quasi hostage situation (that the hostage had firmly decided was happening) couldn’t have happened without a perfect storm of weirdness, risks and lack of understanding what the hell was going on.
Marius would not have seen a 14 year old Eric (not a child to him exactly, but squire age rather than knight age) as a criminal threat in the same way as he saw the Cobra, his own age (18, which was definitely very adult, Marius thought at the time). Eric wouldn’t have failed to consider consequences or failed to consider Marius as person rather than character, if he’d actually been 18. But by the time anyone knew better, a status quo was established, and habit is second nature and a stronger nature than the first.
Eric’s plight is horrific initially. But at the same time, Eric is extremely intelligent (both intellectually and emotionally) and able to both cover and play catch-up to this new life, and he can advise Rae with the benefit of his experience - but that doesn’t mean that he didn’t screw up massively when he first came into the book, or that he doesn’t still have many things to work through.
Similarly, Emer is used to Rahela who is quasi older sister and quasi mistress, while Rae is now acting younger. And all of them are dealing with a gross system in which men are seen as in their youthful prime when women the same age are getting long in the tooth and can be traded in for teenagers - so even two people who are the same age aren’t treated as if they’re the same age, if they’re different genders. Age stuff is crunchy!
Also, while Emer thinks of Lia as having all the power due to class, Lia looks on someone who was her glamorous older stepsister’s age mate and went off to the big city years ago rather differently. But then, are adulthood and childhood different worlds? Is being in different social classes being in different worlds?
Can we reach the different universes of other people is something I’m always asking, I think.
THIS IS SO LONG. I AM SO SORRY.
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scarlethexelove · 4 months ago
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Not Supposed To Happen
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Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader
Word Count: 2322
Warnings: A bit angsty, Fluff, Angry Wanda, Wanda blinded by anger, It all works out, Pregnancy, Really nothing much.
Pt 1, Pt 2
A/n: Ok so this is part 3 of Love Story and I actually split it into 2 parts so there will be a 4th to round it out. Wanda gets a little anxious and upset at reader. Also I know medically it's so wrong but we just going to blame it on the magic. That works right just blame it all on the magic. This is kind of shitty but whatever.
NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN
The backyard of your house is filled with all your friends and family as you celebrate the twin’s 5th birthday. You can’t believe how big they have gotten. Everyday you look at Az and see a mini version of your wife running around. You watch as Peter is being chased by the twins in the yard. All the giggling and laughing coming from them. MJ is sitting in a chair in the shade as her hand sits on her pregnant belly. Steve, Thor, and Tony are all arguing over who is the best at grilling. Sam and Bucky are standing around drinking beer giving each other lovey dovey eyes.
You chuckle to yourself looking at them. You always thought that it would be Steve and Bucky who would end up together but when Steve got with Sharon you were happy for him nonetheless. Then it was Sam and Bucky pining over each other. Your eyes drift over to see Sharon with Pepper and Aunt May. You watched as Peggy (Steve and Sharon’s daughter) and Morgan joined in on chasing Peter around. You laughed as he got taken down when the two older girls joined in.
Carol, Valkyrie, Nat, and Maria all drinking and enjoying themselves. Nat had a strong arm wrapped around Maria while Valkyrie had one around Carol. You were happy to see everyone happy with someone. Even Bruce had a girlfriend but neither of them could make it to the party. You then felt arms wrap around your waist and an even bigger smile stretching across your face. 
“How’s your leg today baby?” You were leaning on your cane that you have to use some days. After the accident it became clear that your leg would never be the same. Some days when it was hard to move and painful. There was severe nerve damage to your leg but you're happy to be alive and have your family with you. “It’s ok, not much pain, just some stiffness.” Wanda takes her left arm from your waist and snakes it down to your thigh and starts to massage your muscle. A small moan escaping your lips without you even noticing but Wanda does when you feel her smirking against the back of your neck.
“Will you two get a room?” Carol calls from the other side of the yard. Valkyrie slapping Carol against the head. “Kids, there are kids running around.” Carol tries to defend herself. “Sorry, not sorry.” Valkyrie chuckles holding her wife. You chuckle at their display. “It’s just about my leg so no room is needed.” You yell back.
“Do you ever regret it?” Wanda asks softly. “Regret what?” You question what she is asking “Having to retire from SHIELD?” A smile spreads across your face. “Never, I have you and our two beautiful babies. And besides Tony has me helping him when he can’t get through a firewall.” You turn around in her grasp to see her giving you loving eyes. “I love you so much Y/n.” Wanda smiles at you which you return. “I love you more.” You gently kiss your wife. 
“Mommy!”  You hear your daughter yelling for you. You turn back around to see Peter holding Az up high as she wiggles in his grasp. “Peter, I swear to god if you drop my daughter. Wanda won’t be the one you have to run from.” Peter gently sets her down. Az and Billy comes bounding over to you and your wife. You pick up Az in your arms and Wanda picks up Billy. “Uncle Peter said we are going to have a little cousin to play with soon.” Billy said happily as Wanda placed a kiss on his head. “Yeah, you are.” You reply looking between your wife and twins.
“Mommy, Mama, when can we have a younger brother or sister?” Az questions the both of you. You both look at each other with wide eyes. Neither of you had, had the conversation about other kids since you almost died twice around when the twins were born. “Well sweetheart your mommy and I will have to see about that one. We love both of you very much.” Billy folded his arms over his chest pouting a bit at your wife’s words. “I want a baby brother so I’m not the only boy. You asked what we want for our birthday. We want a baby brother or sister.” You're taken aback by what Billy just said but you can’t help but think of how great it would be to have another mini-me of Wanda running around. Billy looked like a spinning image of you when you were a kid. You pulled Wanda in close to you as you both held onto the twins.
“Foods ready!” Tony yells from the grill as the twins struggle to get out of both of your arms. You both set them down as they run towards the food. You hug onto Wanda and whisper in her ear. “I think maybe we should think about having another. I love seeing your mini-me running around all the time. Though it’s your turn this time.” Wanda chuckles as she kisses your cheek. “Well of course it is.”
Both of you know that it would have to be her no matter what. After giving birth to the twins, you were told your chance of having another baby was one in a million chance. The damage done was severe. Both of you smile, looking at everyone enjoying themselves as the party continues.
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It’s been 8 months since the party. Wanda is out grocery shopping while the twins are at school. You on the other hand have your face in the toilet bowl throwing up. You were so out of it you never even heard the front door open or the footsteps coming to your bathroom. You hadn’t even heard your name being called out. “Y/n?” Nat’s head peaked into the bathroom as you looked up at your best friend.
“Natty? What are you doing here?” Nat comes over and crouches down next to you. Moving your hair out of the way and rubbing up and down your back. “Are you ok?” She asks with concern written all over her face. “I’m fine. Just been feeling sick the last few mornings is all.” Nat’s eyebrows furrow at your words. “Y/n could you be pregnant?” Nat joked at you. “Not really helping here.” You mumble. “Y/n/n is it only in the morning or other times of the day?” Her face is sympathetic. “Just in the morning. Why do you ask?” You lean your head against the toilet bowl. “Y/n when was your last period?”
You open your mouth to answer but quickly close it when you think back and realize how late you are. “It’s not possible.” You scramble away from the toilet as you run into your room and open the top drawer of your dresser. Nat is close behind you. “Ok gross didn’t need to see your sex drawer.” Nat grimaces. “Haha, not funny Nat.” You look through the draw and find the two vials. One completely full and the other mostly gone. When you flipped over and read the label.  
“Well shit.” You breathe out the realization hits you. “What is it?” Nat asks you. “Wanda used the wrong one.” You turn to face her. “What?” You held up the two vials for Nat to see. One saying that it was fake and the other was the magical sperm for Wanda. “Oh.” Was all Nat could say when she realized what you meant.
You pull out your phone and nervously dial your wife. Hoping that she doesn’t think the worst before you can explain. “Hi baby, do you need something from the store?” Wanda’s voice comes over the phone. “Baby I need you to listen to me before you react ok.” Your voice is laced with anxiety. “Okay.” Wanda says hesitantly. “I need you to grab some pregnancy tests.”
“What they fuck do you mean pregnancy test?” Wanda’s voice is laced with venom. “Baby you said you would listen.” Wanda let out an angry huff. “I’m listening.” You could tell she was gritting her teeth. “You used the wrong one.” You try to explain. “I used the wrong one, right.” Wanda sounded angry, like she didn’t believe you. But before you could answer back you felt another wave of nausea hit you. You threw the phone at Nat as you ran into the bathroom. “Y/n Y/m/n Maximoff, I swear to god you better not – “ Nat cuts Wanda off on the phone. “Y/n would never. Now you need to calm down before you come back here but seriously bring some pregnancy test and maybe some Gatorade.” Nat quickly hangs up the phone as she rushes to your side.
Wanda leaves her cart in the middle of an aisle before running and grabbing some pregnancy test, some Gatorade and a pack of Oreos. She doesn’t want to be mad at you, but her thoughts are racing, not really listening to anything after you said pregnancy test. She checks out the few items before quickly driving home. Once she has gotten home, she rushes upstairs to find you and Nat in the bathroom.
Nat quickly stands placing a hand on Wanda’s shoulder seeing her fuming with rage. You look up with a weak smile, but it drops when you see your wife’s face. Nat grabs the bag and places it next to you as she pushes the angry Sokovian out of the bathroom. “Wanda, you need to calm down.” Nat’s voice raising. “I can’t believe it.” Wanda said her voice was laced with anger. Nat doesn’t want this to escalate; she pulls Wanda towards the dresser, opening the drawer and seeing the two vials you had shown her. She hands them to Wanda. “This is not her fault. If it is anyone's, it is yours.” Nat defended you knowing that you would never betray your wife in that way. Not with the things you have been through and what you two have been through together.
Wanda grips the vials in her hands and looks down at them. She looks at the almost empty one and reads the label. As she does, you're getting up from the toilet and standing in the doorway of your bathroom to your bedroom. “It was that night we got drunk.” Wanda looked up at you. You had a small smile on your face. You push off the doorframe and walk towards Wanda. “You wanted to have a little more fun than just drinking since Nat so kindly took the twins that night. You know how much I love it when you use the fake stuff and decide that night was a great night to use it.” You explained. “And I grabbed the wrong one.” Wanda said lowly looking down at the ground.
You were now in front of Wanda. You placed a finger under her chin and made her look you in the eye.“It was supposed to be your turn this time.” You chuckled. “But how. The doctor said it would almost be impossible.” Wanda’s eyes meeting yours. “Key work almost.” Nat added. Both of you shot her a look before she put her hands up in defense. “I guess you're just that good.” You place your forehead against hers as you look into her eyes. 
Wanda smiles softly at you. “So, are we taking those tests or what?” She says as she pulls you back towards the bathroom. You see the bag on the floor and notice the Oreos sticking out. “Aww you remembered.” You can’t help the growing smile. “How could I? You almost killed Tony and Nat for eating the last of your Oreos when you were pregnant with the twins.” She chuckles. “To be fair you don’t mess with a pregnant woman.” You smirk. “I still have the scar from where you stabbed me with the fork.” Nat adds at the end. “I told you not to eat my Oreos.” You give her a quick quip. “And I learned an important lesson.” Nat raises an eyebrow. “Good now move out so I can pee on some sticks.” You pushed Wanda and Nat out of the bathroom.
A few minutes pass as you wait for the test results to be shown on the different pregnancy test that you took. The buzzer on your phone goes off when the results should be back. “I can’t look.” You bury your face into the crock of Wanda’s neck. She wraps her arms around you as one hand rubs up and down your back. “Everything is going to be ok detka.”
Wanda motioned for Nat to look at them as she held onto you. She moves over picking up the first test. The corners of her mouth twitching up into a smile. She looks at the next one as the smile spreads across her face. Wanda watches as Nat’s smile grows. “Well, it looks like you’re going to have to deal with another Maximoff running around soon.” Nat said excited for you two. You pull away from Wanda and grab the test out of Nat’s hand seeing a plus on the test.
“We’re having another baby?” You look at Wanda who just shakes her head yes. “Good thing two cause this little one is going to have a best friend.” Your face covered contorts with confusion. “What?” You turn around to face Nat. “Well, the reason I had come over here was to tell the both of you that Maria is pregnant. I wanted to tell you two first, but this makes it all the much better. Our kids can grow up being best friends.” You can’t help it when you burst into tears hearing those words. Both women wrapping you in a hug as your happy tears soak into Nat’s shirt.
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maybege · 6 months ago
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The App - Part 2
Summary: You know who your perfect-match alpha is and it is not the guy from The App.  
Pairing: alpha!Boba Fett x fem!omega!Reader
Wordcount: 11.0k | Rating: E (18+ only!)
Warnings: Modern AU, A/B/O dynamics (scenting, knotting, etc.), older man/younger woman, implied age gap, explicit sexual content, unprotected sexual intercourse, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, slight (loving) degradation, semi-public sex, creampies, size kink, fluff fluff and more fluff
So … this second part kind of exploded which is why it took me so long to actually finish it lol but I hope the wait will have been worth it for you because ngl I am just swooning over alpha!Boba. Also I placed a little Easter Egg in here for another upcoming fic so bonus points to anyone who finds it 👀 Either way, I hope you enjoy it. Let me know what you think in a comment or a reblog!  
masterlist | crossposted on AO3
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It was two weeks – and no phone call – later, that you decided to take matters into your own (nervously trembling) hands.
Boba thought he didn’t have to call you? Great. But you would not let him think that you were not interested, because you were. He was the one who had shown you what it could feel like to be loved by him and you would not let him ghost you without any explanation.
And if you so happened to want to give Josh back his jacket he had forgotten at your place and you needed to visit him at work for that? Well, then it would just be the most fitting coincidence if Boba was there too.
It was your luck that the receptionist, Peggy, recognized you from the few times you had visited Josh at work and simply waved you through to the elevators. No questions asked.
The doors slid open and you were faced with an empty floor and your heart plummeted. You stepped outside, letting your eyes roam over the open office space. But except for a few people you did not recognise, no one was there.
Shit. So much for coincidentally crossing Boba’s path.
You gripped the jacket tighter, fighting the insecure thoughts in your brain. So Josh was not here. That still meant you could leave the jacket and maybe write a quick note for Boba, just to let him know you were here and open to talk.
Maybe it was better this way. What were you going to say when you met Boba anyway? “Hi, sorry to show up unannounced but you said you would call and you didn’t and I’d very much like for you to call me.”? Yeah, no, that would not do.
Josh’s desk was as empty as always, particularly neat and void of anything that would make it seem remotely personal. You scoffed. How The App could have presumed you were the perfect match, you would never understand. You only regretted it had taken so long for you to see it.
You shifted on your feet, unease filling you at the thought when your eyes fell to the office at the end of the room. Just a few desks separated you from the glass-walled office that Boba inhabited during his work days. And that Boba was sitting in, right now, his phone by his ear.
It seemed he had not noticed you yet but your heart started racing all the same. This was your chance, this was the moment you had to use or else you would beat yourself up over it forever. This could give you clarity.
Taking a deep breath, you set a determined pace to the office, only to falter when he suddenly looked at you. You could not hear what he was saying but you could see the way his entire body shifted. How he paused his words, his eyes running over your form before hanging up, his hand gripping the phone tightly.
You opened the door without knocking and Boba stood up, his eyes still on you. He wore a black suit and with the way it clung to his broad frame, you were convinced that it had been tailored just for him.
“Hi,” you said breathlessly, “Is Josh here?”
“No,” he said, still standing behind his desk, “He is gone for lunch. They all are.”
“Oh,” you said dumbly, “Okay.”
Neither of you moved.
“I, uh, I brought his jacket,” you said, holding up the piece of clothing as if he would not believe you otherwise.
“I can see that.”
“I, uh, can I leave that here?”
“No.”
You faltered, “No?”
“I mean, you can, just not in my office, please,” he said, stepping around his desk. You could not help but swallow, trying to brace yourself for his proximity. His words did not seem inviting but there was something in his scent, something in his eyes, that had you hoping still.
So you took a step forward, a step closer, and you could see his hand flex and his jaw twitch. His eyes darkened and then he was in front of you, his chest brushing against yours and it was all you could do not to lean into him and beg him to scent you again.
Stars, did you want him to scent you again.
“Don’t you want to know why?”
At this point, you could not have cared less about Josh’s stupid jacket but there was no way you would not use it as a reason to stay. Even if it was just for a minute, for a second, longer in his presence.
“Why?” you breathed, taking in his scent, eyes already half-hooded at the familiar smoky scent.
“Because I don’t want anyone’s scent in here but yours,” he answered, just as quietly, “Omega.”
Omega is not an insult, it is a love confession.
The blood was thrumming in your veins and you wanted to tell him everything. You wanted to tell him you loved him, you were pretty sure you did. And you wanted to ask him to scent you. And you wanted to tell him about how he was right, that Josh was a horrible match and The App was wrong and maybe he was your match.
No, not maybe. He looked at you so softly, so tenderly, it confirmed what your heart had known all along. He was your match.
But all you got out was a helpless whisper, “Alpha.”
As if it was even possible, his eyes got more intense, boring into yours as if to say I know.
“You did not call,” you said, almost accusatory as you watched his fingers brush over the back of your hand, “I thought maybe – maybe you don’t want me.”
“There is no universe in which I do not want you,” he murmured, his nose brushing your temple and his hand wrapping around yours, “I wanted to give you time. I didn’t … want to force you into something you might not be ready for.”
“I had no way to contact you,” you whispered, “I was so stupid, I just deleted all the groups when I broke it off with Josh and – what?”
“Nothing,” Boba said innocently but when you looked up you could see his mouth twitch in a suppressed grin.
“That’s not nothing,” you pointed out, narrowing your eyes in suspicion.
“I didn’t know you had broken off things with him,” Boba stated, his smile widening, “Josh may have announced that he was the one who ended things.”
Say what now?
Your displeasure only grew because Boba chuckled again, a deep rumble in his chest that made you feel all warm and tingly and you leant into him, effectively hiding your frown. It was not that you particularly cared about Josh or how the world would see the end of your relationship. But hearing that he was evidently too ashamed to tell the truth about the end of your relationship just made you angrier because it showed the kind of person he had been all along. And you had been too blind to see it.
“I knew it was a lie all along,” he assured you quietly, his warm hand running down your back, “No alpha in their right mind would ever let you go. And I am pretty sure most of the others thought so too.”
“I don’t care what they think,” you answered truthfully and looked up at him. He was so close this way and you could see that he must have shaved this morning because the stubble was almost non-existent and you wondered if you could still feel it if he were to kiss you. “I only care what you think.”
“I think,” he murmured, his breath mingling with yours, “You should get that stinking jacket out of here and then come back so I can kiss you, omega.”
“You want to kiss me?”
You hated how surprised you sounded, how eager, but Boba did not make fun of you. His face looked dead serious and your heart skipped a beat. This man wanted to kiss you!
“Actually,” he said, straightening up and looking to the elevator where a few employees had come back from their break. You did not recognize them but you knew it meant it would not be long until familiar faces returned from their break. And you did not want to see them. “Did you have lunch yet?”
You shook your head.
“Let me take you out, then,” he suggested, seeming as put together and in control as always as he quickly went over to his computer and typed something, “Italian sound good?”
The smile appeared on its own on your lips and you felt like your feet no longer touched the ground, you were that happy.
“Italian sounds great.”
*
There was something to be said about Boba leading you through the city with his hand on your lower back like it belonged there. Like you belonged next to each other.
“Table for two,” he had told the maître d’ at a fancy-looking place you never would have considered for lunch. Suddenly you found yourself grateful for the fact that you had dug out your most beautiful winter dress for the day and the boots you had spent a whole movie on cleaning so they looked brand new.
You were sat at a slim booth, facing each other and your heart skipped a beat when you crossed your legs and your foot accidentally brushed against his slacks. You were so close.
Boba rumbled, eyes dark while he looked you over, his gaze lingering suspiciously long on your neckline that dipped a bit lower than what you usually wore. “Thank you for letting me take you out,” the alpha said, “I really appreciate getting to spend time with you.”
“I enjoy spending time with you, too,” you mumbled, avoiding his intense gaze by folding open the menu, “Though I wouldn’t have expected it when I first met you.”
The laugh he let out made your heart flutter (He sounded so happy!). “No, I hadn’t suspected it either,” he admitted, “If I recall I called myself an old man no one would ever want that day.”
“You are not that old!” the protest slipped off your tongue immediately and you felt your cheeks burn when he raised his eyebrow in a challenge.
“I am, though,” he said without any heat, “But at least I can say that it makes me better at some things.”
“Like what?”
He leant forward, his voice dropping to a low rumble that you felt reverberating in your chest, “Like I am better at making you come than all these boys on that app these days.”
All air left your lungs in a woosh and you swallowed harshly, trying to get your bearing and ignoring the sudden urge to press your thighs together. Or open them for him. Both sounded good at this point.
“Oh,” you breathed, your foot landing against his calf. It did not turn into anything sexual per se but the contact was enough to have your heart skip a beat. The tension was palpable between you and you wondered how you could have ever thought he was unbearable when he could make you flustered this easily.
“You probably are,” you replied quietly, your cheeks burning at your confession, “I have never felt like this with anyone. So … so on edge.”
“On edge, hm?” he smirked, leaning even closer, “I really wish I could sit next to you, omega, I want to see how close I can get you by just teasing that scent gland of yours.”
“Me too,” you whispered, taking a sip of your wine in the hopes of cooling down, “I really want you to scent me again.”
Boba did not say anything but demonstratively put his hand on the table palm facing up and open. You followed his silent instructions and put your hand in his, immediately enjoying the gentle skin-to-skin contact.
His thumb brushed over your wrist and your entire body shuddered. This was what you needed.
“Better?” he asked, his voice deep as his thumb carefully ran over your scent gland over and over again. The ones on the wrists were not as sensitive as the one on your neck, they never were, but it was enough, still, to have him gently scent you out here in the open for anyone to see.
You did not know what surprised you more: How much your body seemed to crave his touch or how he did not seem to mind to scent you in public. Your previous partner had always refused to actually scent you – it was just not something they wanted to do. But here was Boba, looking at you with so much tenderness and scenting you in plain sight. Not ashamed of you in the least.
“What do you want?”
I want you to fuck me.
“To eat,” he added with a mischievous glint in his eyes, obviously recognizing the needy look in your eyes, “Because that waiter looks like he is ready to come over and I know how nervous you get about ordering.”
Your heart grew in size. He knew you so well, this quiet man who seemed to notice all the things you needed and was not afraid to point them out to you. But that realization did not help you when it came to the ache between your legs because he knew you so well and you just wanted to have him in your bed to try out all the fantasies your head could come up with.
“The – the pasta,” you finally found your words, your heartbeat picking up at the thought that maybe he would stop scenting you now that a witness would be here, “Please don’t let me go, alpha.”
“Never,” he vowed, “The ravioli, you mean?” he guessed, coaxing another sigh out of you when the pad of his calloused thumb drew a circle over your wrist, “With the cherry tomatoes and the basil reduction?”
You nodded with your eyes closed, completely letting yourself enjoy the way he touched you, the way he caressed you. “Yes, that one.”
The waiter came by and Boba ordered for you both, still holding your hand and the waiter did not even spare a glance at the way he touched you. You had spent so many years afraid of what the world would think when you were so obviously treated as an omega in a relationship. Spoiler alert: They did not care. And it was glorious.
“Now only one question remains,” Boba said with a smile when your food arrived, “Can I take you out for dinner sometime? On a proper date?”
*
A few days later, a knock on your door drove you into a flurry. You counted until six in your head before you opened the door, pretending like you had not waited in the hallway for ages for him to show up. Not because he was late, no, Boba Fett was punctual as always, but because you could not wait for this evening to start.
This date today was something you had looked forward to ever since he had called you and officially asked you out. (“There is that lovely little place down by the river,” he had said, “My friend owns it and I could get us a table with the best view. What do you think?”)
Now, Boba Fett was standing in your doorway, looking even more handsome than usual, in dark slacks and a white button-down with the top button undone, revealing a little bit more of his chest. He looked serious, just as much preoccupied with looming at you as you were with looking at him. Which meant that it took both of you a moment to realise that he was holding a colourful bouquet of flowers in his hand.
“Forgive my distraction,” he said, “You look stunning.” He held up the flowers, their scent floating between the two of you, “Here. For you.”
You were sure the smile on your lips could not get any brighter as you accepted them, your fingers brushing, “Thank you. Let me get them in some water. Wanna come inside?”
He hummed, following you into your tiny and cluttered apartment.
You tried not to look back at him and gauge his reactions. You liked to describe your apartment as cosy and homey and, yes, maybe a teeny tiny bit cramped. You had never been one for the minimalistic way of life and your apartment reflected that. There were pictures and books and trinkets everywhere, your fridge was covered in magnets from your travels and postcards from your friends and family.
It was no surprise, in hindsight, that Josh had not liked your place at all and he had not shied away to articulate that out loud. Several times, in fact, until you had just resigned yourself to the fact that you would stay over at his place and your souvenirs would have to live the rest of their lives in storage boxes.
But this was your home. It was you. Which is why it was more important than anything to you that Boba liked it.
Boba was too good a man to criticize your place openly, you knew that. But you still could not resist glancing at his broad form in the living room while you filled the vase with water.
“What do you think?” you asked, hoping to hide your nervous undertone when you set the vase down on your kitchen table. You could not wait to wake up each morning and be greeted with the sight of the flowers your favourite alpha had gotten for you.
“Feels like a home,” he said, running his fingers over a stack of books that had no space in the bookcase, “Feels like you.”
His words were soft-spoken and sincere and you watched as his gaze roamed over your apartment. The couch with the sunk-in cushions where you always sat, the mess of books and notepads and remotes on your coffee table, all pulled together by the singular scented candle you treated yourself to once in a while. The walls were covered with pictures and prints of your travels (or the places you wanted to travel to) and your friends and family peppered in between.
It did feel like you. And when he said it, it sounded like a compliment.
“Thank you, alpha.”
His head shot up and, in his eyes, you could see the thoughts he had. If calling someone omega was a love confession, what did it mean to him to be called alpha?
He crossed the few steps that were between you before he cupped your face in his hands and pulled you in for a kiss. It was soft and gentle and so full of love it made your heart swell. His scent was in your nose and the stubble on his jaw rubbed over your skin, making you want him even closer.
“Let’s go, omega,” he whispered against your mouth, “Or else we will be late and Paz will have my head.”
“If you say so,” you grinned, “Lead the way, alpha.”
*
Hours later, you still were not ready to say goodbye.
You had talked and flirted and laughed and eaten and now, Boba had driven you home, parking a few blocks away with the insistence that he should walk you home. You had accepted with a smile.
“So,” he started, casually walking alongside you, “How was it for a first date?”
You hummed, pretending to mull over your answer as if it weren’t incredibly obvious. The streetlights illuminated the sharp lines of his face, the profile of his nose, his full lips, and the twinkle in his eyes as he glanced at you like he knew exactly what you were thinking.
“It could have been worse,” you teased him, “I don’t think it was the worst first date I have ever been on.”
Boba chuckled, coming to a stop in front of an entryway that looked like yours. Your heart fell at the thought of having to leave him. If it were up to you, this night could go on forever.
“Not the worst first date,” he quoted you, his grin lighting up his whole face, “I count that as a win. Besides,” he turned, facing you, “The most important thing is whether you would go out with me again. What do you think?”
“I would,” you murmured, entirely too fixated on how close he was and if you could get him to kiss you again, “Of course, I would, Boba.”
The silence between you two was comfortable but you could not feel like time was running away from you two. So you blurted out the first thing you could think of.
“Do you want to come up for a coffee?”
“You don’t drink coffee,” he reminded you with a little smile, “You told me that tonight, remember?”
“Oh,” you had forgotten about that, “You know I wasn’t really asking you up for a coffee, right?”
“Hm,” he said, stepping closer to you and you did not shy away. His eyes roamed over your form. His hands were still in his pockets and he was looming over you, his breath washing over your face. “You know there is nothing I would love more than to come up for … not coffee”, he winked and you smiled, “But this is our first date and I – I want to do this right and proper. So, no coffee tonight, little one.”
“Oh well,” you pouted, your hand reaching out to tug his hand out of his pocket. Boba smiled and followed your lead, his hands leaving his pockets and landing on your lower back, pulling you against him. “Your good night kiss will have to make up for that disappointment then.”
His nose brushed against yours and the familiar excitement built up again in your belly at the prospect of kissing him. “I guess I will have to work really hard for it,” he joked quietly before he closed the distance between you.
The kiss started soft and gentle, his mouth moving against yours, slowly coaxing you open. But it did not take long before you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him into you. It did not take long before his tongue mingled with yours, his teeth brushing over your bottom lip and one of his hands wandering to your ass, slightly squeezing.
It was when the slightest of moans left your lips that he pulled away from you, your body instantly missing his touch.
“Dinner, then?” Boba asked, his breathing slightly laboured, “Next week?”
*
You did not make it to dinner.
And you hated yourself for it.
But whatever flu had caught you, it had caught you good and as you drafted the text to Boba, cancelling the dinner date you had spent the last week looking forward to, you felt like crying out of pure frustration. But there was no way you were able to leave your apartment today.
So you did the only thing you could. You planted yourself on the couch, curled up with a heated blanket and too many mugs of tea and set your timer to when you could take the next painkiller to keep the migraine at bay. You could not even focus on the old sitcom that you had put on in the background, instead just dozing on and off and trying to find a position that did not make every single muscle in your body ache.
It felt absolutely miserable.
A knock on your door got you up and you trudged to the door, hoping that it was just one of your neighbours with a package that got misdelivered. Stars knew you weren't up to anything else.
“Boba,” you mumbled, completely confused at the sight in front of you, “Did – did you not get my text?”
He stood in front of you, dressed in jeans and a shirt made from a material so soft, your fingers itched to touch it. “I did,” he confirmed, holding up a white plastic bag that smelled divine, “So I brought you some soup.”
That was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for you.
You wanted to tell him that but somehow, your tongue refused to move and the words would not leave your mouth. You just stared at him, tears brimming in your eyes as you looked at this alpha who did not seem to be angry at you at all for ruining his plans.
“Will you let me come inside?” his voice was gentle and caring, “I can heat up the soup and make you some tea. And then I can get out of your hair and let you rest.”
“I don’t want you to leave,” you found your voice again, happy that you managed to express at least this one thought, stepping aside to let him in, “Th-thank you for coming, alpha.”
You watched as he set the food down in the kitchen before coming into the living room, taking in the damage. The pity was clear in his eyes and you felt a little ashamed at him seeing you so out of control. Everything was a mess and there were used tissues lying everywhere, your laundry had not been done for a week and the dishes were piling up in your sink. Not to mention that you had not managed to gather the strength to take out the trash which was why your kitchen was currently a No Zone for you.
But none of that seemed to interest him.
“Have you been sleeping on the couch?” he asked finally, his brows furrowed as he took in the haphazardly thrown blankets on the sofa.
You shrugged, tugging on your sleeves. You would have to change your shirt soon, the fabric felt unusually scratchy today and it made you want to crawl out of your skin. ”The bed feels cold,” you tried to explain, “And – and the pillows don’t sit right. And I’m too sick to – “
“Make a nest,” Boba realised, his eyes softening, “You’ve been needing a nest all this time, ‘mega?”
You nodded, avoiding his eyes and bracing yourself for the rejection that you would inevitably see in them. So far, Boba had proven different from Josh in every way, different from all the other alphas in every way. And while you knew that your brain was most probably playing tricks on you, you felt too miserable to stop the intrusive thoughts that tried to tell you that this would be the point where he realised that being with an omega – being with you – would be too much work.
“Do you want me to help?”
Your head shot up and you were unable to hide the surprise on your face. But the look on his face was sincere as he looked at you, expecting your answer.
This was one of those moments, you realized, where you could accept what the universe – Boba – offered you. Even if you had never experienced it before. Careful not to jostle your head too much, you nodded and made your way to your bedroom, hearing his footsteps behind you.
The curtains were still drawn but with how bright it was outside, one could still see the half-finish nest you had attempted to build on your bed. It just looked sad now, the twisted blanket and the pillows you had half-heartedly thrown on top of it.
But with Boba behind you, it just felt incomplete and you realized what you had been missing. “I – I want it a little bigger.”
“How much bigger?”
Big enough for you to join me.
But the words remained unspoken as you focused on pulling the blankets apart, getting a bigger circle shape to fill out the entire space your mattress offered. If you pulled it just this way, then you could have –
“Do you have some extra blankets I should get you?” Boba asked from where he had been standing on the opposite side of the bed, carefully copying your movements. You liked the look of his big hands touching the materials of your nest, colouring them in his scent. Maybe, if you were lucky, he would stay long enough that his scent lingered even after he left.
You nodded, pointing to the closet next to the door where you stashed your extra pillows and blankets. The kinds that were always freshly washed and soft enough that you endured them even in your heat. Now, you felt hot too, but in a sick kind of way and your head was thrumming with pain.
Deep down, you knew you should rest. You knew it would not be long until the dizziness set in or the itchiness of the fabric made you want to cry. But Boba was there and he had seen the mess and you did not – you swallowed harshly, your hands starting to tremble – you could not bear if he left now.
“Omega,” Boba rumbled upon his return, clearly having noticed your distress, and your hands stilled at the strict tone in his voice, “Let me take care of this.”
“Don’t want you to work,” you mumbled as you pushed the circle a little wider, “I promise I'm not that much work.” You looked up at him, your voice earnest and your eyes tearing up and you cursed yourself for how weak Josh had made you, how weak you felt at having to face the fact that Boba Fett meant more to you than you had wanted to admit.
His face fell at your words and you could feel the tears threatening to spill.
The blankets fell into the space of your nest, freshly washed and smiling of your favourite laundry detergent. But you could not focus on them now. Not when he made his way around the bed to you until he was right in front of you, the heat of his body seeping into yours.
“Omega,” he whispered, his hands cupping your face. They felt cool against your skin and sighed in relief, your eyes closing, “You are sick, my omega,” he repeated, “You are not too much work. I want to help you. Please, lie down in your nest and let me help. Let me take care of you.”
You hesitated for a second, the demons in your head still whispering about whether or not he was telling the truth. But one look in his warm eyes and you knew he was and you knew you could trust him.
Boba only let go of you once you nodded, pressing a kiss to your forehead before helping you straighten out the blankets. “Here is what we are going to do,” he said, his voice warm and gentle, “I will help you make the nest and then you will lie down and take a nap, okay?”
“And you?” you asked unsure, fluffing a pillow in the corner, already imagining yourself and Boba lying down right there.
“I will take care of a few things and then we will see what you need.”
His voice did not leave much room for protest and if you were honest with yourself, you did not want to protest either. Taking a nap in your nest sounded like a dream and having Boba close by? That was even better.
It did not take long after that before your nest truly looked like your nest. The blankets and pillows were arranged in a perfect circle, high enough for you to lean against them and your favourite blanket was folded inside, too, ready to cover you whenever you needed.
“I will leave you to it, omega,” Boba murmured, his hand gently running over your back before disappearing into the hallway.
Only after you heard him cluttering around somewhere, did you take off your leggings, feeling positive that he would not leave. After a bit of thinking, you took off your panties too. You changed into your sleep shirt, the one thing that felt soft against your skin and it was long enough to cover your ass, too. The only things you kept from your original outfit were the fuzzy socks. Just at first until you could feel the cold leave you.
Lying down in your nest was just as glorious as you had expected and you dozed off in no time. The little sounds from the depths of your apartment and the dimmed sunlight through your curtains paired with Boba’s lingering scent on your blankets resulted in your body feeling relaxed and pliant for the first time in three days.
You did not know how much time passed but by the time you opened your eyes again, you felt much better and Boba stood by your bed.
He carefully arranged the pillows around you, making sure they were as fluffy as possible and you smiled when his hands lingered on your shoulders. “Is that okay?” he asked, “Are you comfortable?”
“Perfect,” you mumbled, reaching your hand out for him, “Do – Will you join me?”
The large man smiled, his voice still careful as he pulled the curtains closed. “I would love to, omega, what's the dress code?”
“Shoes off,” you ordered with a weak smile, “And the shirt, too. And the belt.”
He hummed and you did not have to see him to know he was smiling. You watched with interest as his hands went to the bottom of his shirt, more and more tan skin revealed to you as he pulled it over his head. It was the first time you had seen him like this and your heart skipped a beat at the thought that maybe it would not be the last time.
“Like what you see?” he joked, his hands going to his belt and you bit your lip, your eyes not leaving his body as he crawled into bed next to you. He pulled a soft blanket from somewhere, covering you both with it and you sighed, shuffling closer to him.
The alpha’s arms went around you, holding you to him so you could tuck your face into his neck, breathing in his comforting scent and enjoying the sheer touch of him against you. While the silence between you felt comfortable and you found yourself thinking that you could stay like this forever, you also could not shake the little bit of nervousness at this new position you found yourself in.
“I have never shared my nest with anyone,” you confessed into the crook of his neck, “I – I don’t know if I am doing it right.”
“It feels right, doesn’t it?” he asked you gently, his hand holding the back of your neck firmly. You closed your eyes, giving you some relief from the strain behind your eyes. His finger started moving, gently and slowly massaging the back of your neck.
He was right. It did feel right.
“If it helps, it is my first time in an omega’s nest as well,” he replied and you hummed. “No, that’s a lie,” he added after a moment of silence, his hand movement never ceasing, “I was in my mother’s nest a few times when I was very little.”
“A few times?” you asked, remembering how you had spent entire weekends as a toddler with your parents in their nest.
“I have a lot of brothers,” he revealed, “Like a ridiculous amount, really. It was sometimes a fight to get in there, you know? Not that it made me feel any less loved.”
You smiled at the thought of a young Boba toddling around with his brothers in a big nest.
“It sounds nice,” you murmured, running your hand over his chest. You focussed on the warmth of his body, the way his skin felt under your fingertips and how you could feel his heartbeat.
“It is,” you could feel him nod, “Family reunions are a nightmare though. Pure chaos.”
Your laugh got stuck in your throat when his nose brushed over your neck. His breath washed over your scent gland and you could feel how your body attuned to him.
“This is nice, too,” you mumbled, snuggling closer to him. His nose on your scent gland sent warm shivers down your spine. It was calming and made you feel safe and cosy and like you could finally rest.
“It is,” he agreed quietly, turning your body so he was on his back and you were glued to his side, “Rest now, my omega, I got you.”
*
It was several days of rest until you finally could breathe through your nose again. But when the rest of the flu had dissipated and you felt like you could return to life as usual and Boba asked you out to the opera, you knew it would be even better than the date you had originally missed.
The older alpha took you out to dinner first. To a fancy restaurant by the water where the waitlist was several months long. So long, in fact, that you marvelled at how he managed to get a table there. As it turned out, the small restaurant in question was owned by his friend Paz, a giant of an alpha who came out of the kitchens with a huge grin and a promise to deliver you the best meal you ever had.
And just like Boba, Paz Vizsla was an alpha who kept his word. Paired with the most delicious wine you ever had, you were served a three-course pre-theatre dinner that had you humming with delight.
But the true highlight of the night was not the strawberry pistachio tarte or the seafood pasta, no. It was the man in front of you.
Boba’s eyes never left you. He held your chair for you and had his hand on yours whenever time allowed. He looked so handsome in his black suit with a dark grey dress shirt and you found your eyes straying to the first few undone buttons that granted you a look at his chest.
Stars, you were so done for.
“You look stunning,” he complimented you, “That has to be my favourite colour on you.”
It was a dark green silk dress that was clinging to your body “in all the right places” as your friends had assured you in the group chat. And hearing Boba thinking the same things made you happier than you could have imagined.
“And you look very put together, as always,” you teased him back, leaning forward and not missing the way his eyes flashed to your neckline. If only he knew …
Your alpha smiled at you, then, and leant back in his chair like it. You watched with bated breath as he held his thick hand up and started rolling up his sleeves, revealing his tanned forearm to you. First the one, then the other and then he dared to wink at you because he knew exactly what you were thinking.
And it was exactly these filthy thoughts that got you into the mess that followed.
Because Boba had a private boy. Of course, he did.
You felt like a princess when he led you up the carpeted stairs through the gorgeous old building to a little room that was reserved just for you. It was hard to look at the steps in front of you when you were so distracted by the painted ceilings, the stucco and the giant chandeliers that, just for a second, gave you the feeling of travelling back in time. But Boba’s hand was right there to steady you, his hand squeezing yours warmly when you heisted before.
The first thing you were greeted with was a set of fancy drinks – your favourite mocktail and a scotch that was older than both of you for Boba. Only then did you take in the room.
For some reason, you had thought that the door would lead immediately to your private seats for the show. Instead, you were standing in a little reception room, furnished with a plush couch and a minibar and looked far fancier than any hotel room you had ever stayed in.
Slow music was playing from a record player and if you listened carefully, you could hear the orchestra getting ready through the thick curtain. It was cosy and private and made you feel like you were far away from everyone and everything.
You sat down on the couch, sinking into the fabric with a laugh and Boba joined you. Sitting next to you, with his legs spread and leaning back against the couch with one hand still holding his scotch, he was the picture of sex appeal. Everything about him made you hyper-aware of the arousal simmering in your core.
“What are you thinking about, little omega?” he rumbled, taking a sip of the amber liquid. You watched his throat move and swallowed with him, wanting to press your lips to his Adam's apple.
“Nothing,” you whispered, slowly leaning forward. Your heart was pounding in your chest, “Just that you haven’t kissed me yet.”
The glass of scotch landed on the side table with a clank and he turned towards you, his eyes intense. “We can't have that,” he stated, a small smile on his lips, “C’mere, love, let me remedy my mistake.”
You don’t know who moved faster but his warm hand cupped the side of your face the moment your lips met his. He tasted of scotch and something uniquely him that had you opening your mouth for his tongue.
Desire overcame you and in no time, his hand on your hip held you steady as you climbed on top of him, your knees settling on the couch on either side of his lap as you tried to get as close as possible. He was warm and solid and you just wanted – you needed – to feel him.
The fire in your core was fuelled by the low groans that left his mouth and when your hips stuttered against his and you could feel him hard against you, you wished you were anywhere else but the opera. Maybe your bedroom. Or his bedroom. Anywhere with a bed, really.
You were completely out of breath when you pulled apart. Boba had a lazy smirk on his face, his free hand trailing slowly over your neckline. He ran his finger over the silk of your dress, right over your tit, circling where you needed him most and sure enough you could feel and see your nipple pebble through the thin fabric.
“Tell me,” he rumbled, “What did you think would happen when I realised that you were not wearing a bra and that you are this close,” he hooked a single finger into the neckline, gently pulling the fabric down your skin until your chest was free to the cool air, “to showing me your pretty tits?”
“I wanted to look pretty,” you mumbled, your ears hot at him knowing how bare you were beneath this dress. You had never done anything like this but Boba – Boba brought it out in you. It made you feel a little dirty in the best way and you knew you had Boba to thank for it.
“That’s one way to say you’d like to skip straight to dessert,” he teased you and you could not help your smile. The tension did not falter though and neither did the movement of his finger circling your nipple but not quite touching it.
You wriggled your hips, trying to get closer to him.
The groan that left him had your pussy weeping.
“How long did you know?” you asked shyly, arching your back so he could touch you freely.
“When you bent over at dinner,” he revealed, his thumb finally brushing directly over your nipple, bringing it to a peak. The feather-light touch was repeated on the other side as well. “Had me rock hard in an instant, princess. I had half a mind to sit you in my lap right there so no one can see how I would bury my cock in your sweet pussy.”
“Alpha,” you breathed. His fingers tightened on your nipples and you squeaked when he gently pulled, the mixture of pain and pleasure making you whine.
“Performance doesn’t start in the next 30 minutes,” he rumbled, his mouth closing over one east and you gasped, “How about we get you out of this pretty dress and I make you come?”
“Boba!” you gasped, “You – We – we are in the opera.”
“That we are,” he agreed, lightly biting the underside of your breast.
“You – you don’t mind?”
“Omega,” he said softly, standing up and pulling you with him until you were standing in the middle of the room, “I have you half-naked in my lap, ready for me to devour you. I don’t mind where we are as long as no one sees how pretty you look for me. So what do you say?”
You did not say anything but you shimmied your shoulders until the dress fell down your torso. Boba’s hands were big and warm on your back as he helped it along the rest of your body. The silk fell from your body in a whisper and just like that, you stood in front of him completely bare, in a private room in the opera.
Stars, you never would have thought to do something like this. And Boba Fett still looked at you like you were the most beautiful sight in the entire world.
“Stunning,” he stated, his dark eyes running over your body. He sat down on the couch again and patted his thighs. You stepped closer, feeling strangely secure and forward – completely bare for this man who made you feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.
“It’s unfair, though,” you pouted as you ran your fingers over the buttons of his shirt, “You are still fully dressed.”
“Hm, let me enjoy it for now,” he smiled, pulling you against him, his hands immediately finding their way to the soft flesh of your ass, “I want to pay attention to all of this,” he squeezed your ass, “before I get distracted by your touch.”
His words turned you on more than you wanted to admit and so instead, you only squirmed in his grasp.
“Straddle me,” he instructed, relaxing against the couch as you followed his order, “Keep the heels on.”
The feeling of your bare skin against the fabric of his suit was surprisingly erotic and your pussy clenched at the proximity to him. He was warm and strong beneath you, letting you rest your weight on his thighs and the couch.
“I want you to feel how hard I am,” he explained, pushing your hips down on him and your eyes flew open at the bulge you felt pressing against your core. He felt … big. “And then I want you to tell me how you want to come tonight.”
You swallowed heavily, gathering the courage to reciprocate the honesty he was giving you. “On your cock, alpha,” the words felt strange on your tongue, never having been one for dirty talk, but the flint in his eyes made it worth it, “I want to come on your cock.”
He chuckled. “I'm afraid that’s not an option, omega. We are in public after all,” he winked, his hand wandering down your cheek and body until his fingers brushed against your folds. You were already soaking wet and you closed your eyes, grinding your hips against him, “You can have my fingers or my mouth.”
His middle finger ran through your wetness before his fingers twitched and he pushed one inside you to the first knuckle. You breathed in sharply, his touch causing everything in your body to stir.
“This okay?” he asked you, his voice rough like sandpaper, “Does my finger in your pretty cunt feel good?”
“Yes,” you nodded eagerly, gasping when his mouth closed over your nipple again, “It feels really good, alpha.”
“Good,” he rumbled, finger moving carefully deeper inside you before pulling out again. With his other hand still kneading your ass, he grinned, “Would you like me to add another finger?”
A whine escaped you at his slow pace. He really wanted to make you work for it.
“That is not an answer,” he mocked, looking up at you. You kissed him again, enjoying the way his stubble rubbed over your jaw and his tongue playing with yours, “Do you want my fingers in your pussy? Yes or no?”
“Please,” you whimpered, “Please, alpha, let me come on your cock.”
“Fuck, you're filthy,” he cursed, his hand landing on your ass in a slap, “Who knew my pretty omega could talk this dirty?”
His praise made your cheeks heat up but it did not keep you from moving your hips again. This time, you could feel the tip of him catching against your clit and a thousand nerve endings tingled. Your eyes fluttered with desire and you did it again.
And again.
And again.
Until Boba made you stop with a strong hand against your back.
“Lean against me,” he ordered, “Go on, your chest against mine.”
Following his instructions, you fully rested against him and used the position to your advantage by plating your mouth on his scent gland. It was the first time you properly tasted him – all pinewood and smoked – and it clouded your mind instantly. All you could and wanted to do was follow whatever Boba said.
“Spread your legs,” you did, “Wider, omega.”
You whimpered against him but still spread your legs as wide as they would go. It opened you up to him but instead of slipping his hand between your bodies, his fingers brushed down your back to your ass, until –
“Relax,” he murmured, his fingers only barely brushing over the crack of your ass, “I am not here for that now. Soon, though.”
You could feel his finger slowly pushing inside you, its way eased by the wetness coating your thighs and walls. Your eyes widened, completely locked in by his gaze as you felt him slowly thrust his finger in and out of your pussy.
“Want you grinding against my cock while I finger you,” he explained, voice rough, “You deserve to come, pretty omega.”
He pushed his finger, so much thicker than yours, back in again and you could feel your walls flutter. By the way Boba’s eyes darkened, he had felt it too. Soon, he added a second one, thoroughly stretching you until you were helplessly humping against him.
The sight of you must have been filthy. This older, completely dressed man with an undressed omega on top of him grinding herself against his cock and panting against his scent gland. It turned you on even more and when you licked a stripe up his neck, he groaned too, his hips rocking up against yours and paired with his fingers inside you, you were already so close to coming.
But it was not what you wanted.
“I want your cock,” you pouted, rocking against him. He was heavy and hot and your pussy was throbbing for him, “Don’t make me wait, Boba, please.”
The hand on your ass travelled to your jaw, tilting your head until he could kiss you. “You beg so prettily for me,” he murmured, his teeth scraping against your bottom lip, “You almost have me reconsidering.”
Spurred on by his words, you pushed your hips back against his fingers, having them go deeper. Trying to keep from gasping, you bit your lip until it hurt.
“Please, alpha,” you breathed, doing your best to put on your most seductive voice, “Please alpha, I want to feel your cock so badly, I – I just know it is going to feel so good, p-please. I need it. I need it so bad.”
He did not reply for a while, simply adding a third finger that had your walls flexing around him. That should have been the sign of your victory but you were too busy grinding your clit against his covered shaft to really register it.
“I am nothing if not generous,” he teased you, his mouth pressing hot kisses to your scent gland, “But I will not knot you. I will only let you sit on my cock and fill you with my come. But I will not knot you. Not yet.“
You could live with that.
He spread you out on the couch before resting over you and it was that moment that you remembered that all that was separating you from hundreds of people were the thick velvet curtains. He seemed to know that too.
“Stay quiet, little one,” he warned you but the devious smile on his lips made you feel like he wouldn’t mind at all if everyone knew what was about to happen. And that just made you feel even hotter.
The sight of him undoing his belt alone was enough to cause another rush of wetness down your thighs and you spread your legs of your own accord, wanting to give him the view he was giving you. Because seeing his cock, big and heavy, had your pussy clenching. There was a bead of precome on the tip that you desperately wanted to taste and when his hands wrapped around his shaft, giving himself a few strokes, it was all you could do not to beg.
But Boba had plans. “One foot on the floor,” he ordered you and you did as you were told. He pushed your opposite leg on the backrest of the couch, effectively spreading you even further and felt a little ashamed, being so exposed to him.
His strong hand continued to pump his cock while he looked at your pussy like he wanted to devour you.
“Alpha,” you whined, growing restless, “Please …”
“We got to be quick, little omega,” he warned you, “We have a show to catch, after all.”
Despite his warning, he pushed inside you slowly, letting you get used to his size. You had known it would be a tight fit from just seeing him but the feeling of the tip alone breaching your walls had your breath catching in your throat. Boba noticed, of course, and his thrust remained shallow until you could finally relax.
“Good girl,” he praised you, “Can feel you opening up for me. You’re all quiet now, hm? All you wanted was that big fat cock fully in your pussy, hm?”
You nodded eagerly, his words making your cheeks flush. His body, still dressed, moved above yours expertly while you hardly knew what to do with yourself. You felt full and pleasured and he wasn’t even fully inside you yet. All you could do was run your hands over his body, grabbing his shoulders, brushing your fingertips over his scent gland and then to the back of his head, pulling him down for a kiss.
Boba, meanwhile … Boba was a rock. He was confident, calm and in control. All the C-words, really. Cocky too, judging by the smirk on his face as he bent down to kiss you again.
“Tell me,” he encouraged you, “How are you feeling with my cock inside you, princess?”
“Full,” you breathed, “So full, alpha. It’s – are you –“
He looked down, his finger circling your clit, making your clench around his firth. “Not even halfway, little one,” he stated and you took a deep breath, “I’m gonna fit in this tight little pussy, no worries.” He continued to circle your clit and you hummed, feeling your walls stretch around him.
“There we go,” he encouraged you, his lips brushing over the shell of your ear as he spoke, “There’s my good girl. So gorgeous for me, feel so good around my cock. Tell me, does it feel good for you too?”
“Uh huh,” you nodded eagerly, trying to shift your hips to get closer but Boba pinned you down with his body weight, shoving the rest of him inside you in the process. You bit your lip, trying to muffle the moan that wanted to break free. His weight on top of you was comforting. You wanted him to have this control over you, having to worry about nothing but enjoying yourself.
“I am the one who moves around here,” he chastised you, fully thrusting inside you again and brushing a spot that made you shiver, “Trust me, omega. Let me take care of you. You just lie here and take it.”
And take it you did.
“Faster, please,” you whispered, “Just a little – oh!”
He adjusted his pace perfectly like he knew exactly what you needed. The size of him inside you made you see stars and you felt dizzy with pleasure. When he angled his hips just so, his cock met that spot again and again until your eyes fell back and your mouth fell open. Thick fingers wrapped around your neck, just under your jaw and you could feel his breath on your skin.
Your toes started tingling and soon the sensation ran through all your muscles until you were spasming around him in the strongest orgasm you had ever felt. Everything felt heightened and with how you were clenching around him, he felt even bigger than he already was.
“Fuck,” Boba cursed into your neck, his hips stuttering, “You are so fucking pretty, omega. Can’t wait to fill you up like you deserve, full of my cock and my come. Gonna do this every day, princess, so you remember who you belong to, hm?”
Gasping for breath, your heart still racing in your chest, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, “Alpha, I –“
“I know, princess,” he groaned quietly, his hips stilling, “I know.”
His cock was so deep inside you, you never wanted him to leave. You wanted to remain like this forever. He came inside you and you could feel it, the strange sensation of him filling you up with what felt like a lot of come, a guaranteed mess between your thighs.
Still, you had never felt as connected with anyone as with Boba at this moment, his clothed body pressing against yours, his breath slowing against your neck.
 “Stars,” you whispered, blinking the sudden tears away.
Boba kissed you softly, his rough hands running over every inch of bare skin. His weight on you was comforting and the way he caged you in made you feel oddly small and safe. He pulled out of you, slowly, and you winced when his come trickled down your tights as soon as he left you.
You watched as he reached for some tissues, gently cleaning you up. He remained silent but gentle, his fingertips brushed carefully over your inner thighs and your already swollen folds.
“How do you feel?”
“Fucked,” you breathed out. Both of you chuckled but the sight of him pocketing your panties had you grow quiet. “Don’t mind if I keep these,” he rumbled, his hands helping you stand before smoothing your dress down your legs, “Want to keep a souvenir of when I filled you up the first time.”
You were completely breathless again and it did not help that you could still feel him inside you. “Thank you,”
“For what, omega?”
You stepped closer to him, planting your hands on his chest. His heart was beating just as hard as yours and you could not wait to later peel the shirt off him and feel his body heat against yours. For now, though, you just pressed a kiss to his neck. “For taking care of me,” you explained, “For making me come,” you kissed his jaw, “For fucking me so good,” you whispered before kissing him softly, “For coming inside me.”
His hands went to your waist, holding you closer and allowing him to prolong the kiss. He was growling when you pulled away and it was easy to admit that he already had a hold on your heart and pussy. But it was your turn to tease now.
“C’mon,” you grinned, “Didn’t you say we had a show to catch?”
Boba grinned, eyes twinkling as he pulled back the curtains for you. “You're gonna be the death of me, little one.”
*
Fortunately, you were not the death of him, though he did like to continue the joke weeks (if not months) into your relationship.
Being with Boba was like stepping out into the daylight after the movies. It was strange at first, getting used to the fact that he was so openly in love with you. That he was not afraid to embrace you being an omega. It led to a few misunderstandings and more than a few serious talks in which you came to the realization that your dating history had impacted you more than just a little.
But Boba was not about to leave you because you were an omega and he was not about about to leave you because you were too high-maintenance.
It took a bit of time and a few in-depth conversations with your friends but soon enough you learnt that you were lovable, omega and all. And Boba was the exact right person to love you.
Your first heat together was better than anything you had ever imagined. He had noticed it before even you had, showing up at your door with takeaway food from Paz’s place, flowers and a bag of his worn shirts. That and his “I took the next few days off, princess, let’s get your nest ready” came just a few hours before you noticed the cramping in your belly.
By the time your heat properly hit, you were already buried in the softness of your nest, cuddled against your alpha’s chest as you watched your favourite movies. You spent three days holed up with him in your apartment, taken care of in every single way from him scenting you to arranging the nicest fruit platter to sitting you on his knot until you cried, whispered the sweetest nothings in your ear.
It was the happiest you had ever been and for the first time in a long time, you were confident that this happiness would remain because Boba gave you every indication that it would remain.
Like when he suggested one winter evening that your flowers would bloom nicely in his garden come springtime or when he took you to the hardware store, getting all the tools to hang your pictures in his – your – home. Or how careful he was to help you pack up all your stuff, making sure everything stayed secure and safe as you made the move from your small apartment into his house that became yours.
Or that time he surprised you with the Merino wool throw blanket for your nest when you complained one December evening that the only thing that could keep you warm was him.
The one moment where it all came full circle though, was when he decided to host his team for another summer BBQ. You already had a ring on that finger (a ring he had put there after an especially romantic evening at Paz’s restaurant) and his house now truly reflected the both of you living there, but the prospect of seeing the man who had triggered it all still made you a little bit nervous.
It was hard to believe that only a year ago, you had tried to avoid Boba and the feelings he caused in you at all costs. And now you were engaged to him and could not imagine your life any other way.
A few guests were already mingling in the garden when you put out the last of the cutlery. Boba followed close behind, carrying the cooler out of the garage.
“Ready?” you asked, smoothing your hands over your yellow sundress. The hem was hitting mid-calf and you loved the little twirl it did. What you loved even more was the way your alpha had buried his head under that dress only a few hours ago.
“Ready,” he confirmed with mirth in his eyes. It would not surprise you if he knew exactly where your mind had been.
A wave of new guests arrived in the garden and you stiffened when you recognized one familiar face. And he recognized you.
“Hey,” Josh greeted you, his voice just as grating as you remembered, “I didn’t know you would be here.”
He did not try to hug you for which you were grateful but he also did not leave. You really wanted him to leave.
“Hi,” you forced yourself to smile, highly aware of Boba standing right next to you. His hand was on your lower back, warm and comforting as you faced the man who once called himself your perfect match.
“I’d say it’s good to see you, but, uh,” Josh looked to Boba, questioningly, “Why are you here, exactly?”
You wanted to scoff, you really did. But your body was tight with nerves and you did not like the eyes of the other guests on you. But you should have known that Boba would take care of you. He always did.
“C’mere, omega,” your alpha mumbled with a soft smile and your heart skipped a beat as his fingers gripped your chin and pulled you to him. And then he kissed you in front of everyone. Just a slow peck, nothing more, but you could not help but sigh against him, your hand landing on his warm chest.
He hummed, his scent surrounding you even in the open air and when he pulled away, you were both smiling. Pinewood and smoke were your favourite scents in the world.
Everybody was smiling, really, except for one.
“Do you wanna explain yourself?” Josh demanded, for the first time sounding displeased.
“I don’t think there is anything to explain,” you replied coolly, your hand still on Boba’s chest, smiling at the man in front of you. The diamond on your ring caught the sunlight but it was nothing against the blinding smile on Boba’s face.
Boba, who paid just as little attention to Josh as you, his eyes never leaving yours as he raised his hand to your face. “What can I say,” he grinned, his thumb brushing over the apple of your cheek, “She found her perfect match.”
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oacest · 2 months ago
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(with enormous thanks to @noandneuron for their tremendous scholarly work taking pics of the library print version of this article, which seems to otherwise not exist online. original post with pics can be found here.)
LIAM WANTED ME TO MARRY HIM AND HAVE HIS BABY... BUT NOEL TORE US APART
SINGER FELL FOR WICKED SEX LIES ABOUT LOVER
by Phil Taylor, Chief Feature Writer (News of the World) (Sept 8, 1996)
Oasis idol Liam Gallagher's jilted fiancee opened her heart to the News of the World last night and told how her wedding plans were torn apart by his scheming brother Noel.
“Liam was the love of my life and we planned to get married and have children,” seethed Cerice Blakeley. “But Noel wrecked our relationship because the most important thing in his life was Oasis and he felt that I was in the way. I will never, ever forgive him. Noel deviously told his brother the most hurtful allegation that he could about me—that I had betrayed him and had sex with the band's cocaine supplier. I never two-timed Liam. But he believed Noel and was absolutely devastated. To this day he doesn't know the truth. Now Liam's with Patsy Kensit. I wonder if Noel will do the same to her.”
Life had all looked so different when Cerice first met the brothers who were yet to take Britain by storm. It was in a marquee near Oldham in May 1992—and it was Cerice's 21st birthday.
“I was heavily into the Manchester music scene,” she said. “And I was friendly with a band called the Inspiral Carpets—at the time Noel worked for them as a roadie. When he came along with the band I wasn't attracted to him at all. I hated his haircut—it looked as though someone had used a bowl. But I took one look at Liam and it was love at first sight.
“He wore blue cords and a dark navy kagoule and looked adorably different. I got quite flirtatious with him and later we arranged a date. Liam couldn't drive and was living at his mum Peggy's council house in Manchester. So I picked him up in my Citroen and we went up on the moors. Liam gave me the most amazing kiss I've ever had. It seemed to go on for ages and my mind was in a whirl. I felt so turned on I wanted to have sex with him there and then. I know he felt the same.
“But we decided to do it properly, so we booked into a lovely country hotel. I've never felt so excited in my life as we finally curled up on the bed and smoked a joint of marijuana. We kissed and kissed and I was ready and willing for Liam to make love to me. But to my disappointment, he suddenly stopped and told me, 'I respect you too much.' I couldn't believe it. It was so unlike a Manchester bloke. But I was very touched and it made me love him and want him even more.”
Liam later invited Cerice home to meet his mum. Then, she said, after a cup of tea and a chat they went upstairs to Liam's bedroom... and made love for the first time.
Cerice sighed: “Liam was only 19, two years younger than me, and was very nervous in bed. I wanted to strip him off, but he was so self conscious. He wouldn't take off his cream woolly jumper because he felt his chest was too puny. So I tried to break the ice and joked: 'Don't worry about your chicken chest, you've got lovely footballer's legs.'
“It worked. He relaxed and we made love to Hey Jude, one of his favourite Beatles songs. I felt wonderful afterwards and spent the night in Liam's bed. Then, the next morning, he brought me up a cup of tea and we chatted for ages.
“Then he ran a bath and started putting handfuls of salt in it. I couldn't believe my eyes and asked him what he was doing. He told me, 'It helps strengthen my bones.'
“Afterwards he spent ages doing his hair... he was always using his mum's hairdryer. I told him, 'You're going to end up like Mick Jagger.' Then I asked him if he wanted to try my mascara—and he did. But he went one step further and squeezed into my size 8 velvet jacket too. Then he put on the Rolling Stones record Satisfaction, pouted his lips and started strutting around the bedroom like Jagger. I creased up laughing. I'm only 5ft 5ins and Liam is 5ft 11ins. The jacket was so tiny on him, the sleeves rolled up around his elbows. But he loved it and it turned him on. He fell on the bed and we had fantastic sex for 45 minutes. Afterwards, Liam told me, 'I'm not gay or bisexual. I'm just in touch with my feminine side.'”
Cerice saw Liam and Oasis rise from obscurity to stardom. “I went to the studio with them while they were recording their album Definitely Maybe and knew they were going to be massive,” she said. “It went to No. 1.”
Two years after they met, Cerice's life seemed complete. “We had just got back to Liam's mum's house from a gig in Sheffield,” she said. “Liam looked really nervous. He told me, 'I have got something very nice to ask you. Will you marry me? I want you to have my children.'
“I was thrilled. I gave him a big hug and said, 'Of course I will.' We celebrated with a glass of his favourite drink. Jack Daniel's and Coke. Then we went round to my home and he told my dad. Liam said to him, 'I love Cerice and I want her to feel secure, so I've asked her to get engaged.'
“Being a practical, logical man, Dad asked Liam how financially secure he felt he was going to be. At the time, Liam was only getting £100 a week from the band. And he told my dad he couldn't even afford to buy me an engagement ring. But he said he was saving up to get me one. Dad wasn't too impressed. But he gave us his blessing because he wanted me to be happy.”
Liam's brother Noel, she said, was less pleased. “Noel nicknamed me Yoko Ono,” she recalled bitterly. “He felt I'd pull Liam away from the band, just as Yoko did with John Lennon and the Beatles. Nothing could have been further from the truth.”
Cerice and Liam rented a flat in the Didsbury area of Manchester for £75 a week and moved in together. “He put his favourite posters on the ceiling of our front room,” she said. “They were of John Lennon and the Stone Roses, one of his favourite bands.
“I would do the cooking—Liam's favourite meal was steak and Walker's crisps—but he'd always do the washing up and we would take turns with the hoovering. The only thing that annoyed me about him was that he always left his wet towels on the bathroom floor.”
It was in that flat, said Cerice, that the couple planned a family. She sighed, “I said I wanted a little girl and told Liam I hoped she'd have my hair, my brain, and his tenderness. He joked that he wanted a little boy who loved Manchester City, then said, 'I really don't mind what sex it is. I just want to have a baby with you.'”
And all the time, she confessed, their sex life became more and more intense—fuelled by drugs. “I must admit we took our share of cocaine through a £10 note,” she said. “It was extra special when we got in bed together because Liam was away on tour more and more as the band got bigger and bigger. I saw them play before 100,000 at Glastonbury and they were phenomenal.”
In the summer of 1994, Cerice and Liam drove to Scotland together for the massive Tea In The Park festival. “As the journey went on we were feeling friskier by the minute,” she said. “After four hours' driving we couldn't wait any longer. We were travelling on the M74 through Scotland when we saw a big wood. We looked at each other, smiled, and both had exactly the same idea.
“I pulled over, parked on the hard-shoulder and we ran off into the woods. Then we lay down on the soft moss and made wild, blissful love. It was the first time I had ever had sex outside and I think it was for Liam. We were there for nearly an hour writhing among the undergrowth before we finally got up and made our way back to the car. But as we walked back close to the motorway, holding hands and beaming smiles, passing motorists saw us and started beeping their horns. It was obvious what we had been up to and I was blushing bright red. So was Liam.”
They were never to be as happy again. After the concert, Cerice went backstage to congratulate Liam on his performance but could only find Noel. “I asked him where Liam was and he told me, 'He had to leave to catch a plane from Manchester for a concert in Germany tomorrow night. We're performing in Hamburg and he unexpectedly had to catch the flight tonight. I'll be flying over in the morning.'
“Bewildered, I went back to Noel's hotel where I met Simon, the band's cocaine supplier, and a record company executive. He told me he could get keys to Noel's room and I could sleep there. There were two single beds. I fell asleep in one and Simon and this fella slept on the floor, keeping the other one free for Noel.
“Then, at about 6am, Noel came into the room with a blonde and said, 'Oh, you're all in here.' Then he got into his bed with the girl and I went back to sleep. At 9am Noel got up and said, 'I'm going to Hamburg. I've told Liam you're OK and you'd phone him tonight.”
Later that day, Cerice phoned the Gallaghers' mum and she told her that Liam had phoned to pass on his apologies for missing her in the Scottish crowd. That night, Cerice managed to contact him herself.
“He was really angry and abrupt,” she said. “He told me, 'I need to talk to you face to face and not over the phone.' Then he slammed the phone down. I was distraught. He'd never spoken to me like that before and I couldn't understand why. Now I know. Noel told Liam I'd cheated on him and slept with Simon. A friend of mine told Liam it wasn't true. But he wouldn't believe her because it came from his own brother. He was shattered and went completely off the rails afterwards.
“We met just once when he returned to Manchester from Hamburg. I told him he shouldn't have treated me so badly. But we were both so angry and upset we couldn't even row. Instead he walked out of the door and out of my life. I haven't seen or heard from him since. He has never answered my calls. Noel must be delighted.”
After their split in August 1994, Cerice left Britain for Australia to get over the trauma. “It was while I was there that Oasis released Don't Look Back in Anger,” she said. “I tried to relate it to my own circumstances, but I can't look back in any other way. I have no anger towards Liam. But for Noel I have. I despise him. After we split up Liam was shattered and went completely off the rails. He simply hasn't been the same since.”
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sytoran · 2 years ago
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𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐋𝐘 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 ⌇ marvel ladies headcanons
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summary. marvel ladies and their favourite kind of kisses to receive from you ♡
includes. yelena / wanda / maria / peggy / natasha / shuri / kate note. a very late valentines special. sfw since tumblr hates me and my mature works. (literally every single one of them have gotten flagged this isn't funny anymore) regardless, i hope you all enjoy these adorably fluffy headcanons
masterlist / AO3
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──── ♥ YELENA
forehead kisses. when yelena was younger, she hated getting teased for her height. but somehow, it’s okay when it comes to you. maybe it’s because you can wrap your arms around her so easily and engulf her in your warmth, and your joy, and the life behind everything you do. or maybe it’s just the forehead kisses. you’re always gentle with yelena, loving her not in spite of her flaws but because of them, and maybe that’s why you’re so tender when you hold the sides of her face and press a kiss on her forehead. her shoulders relax, and she sighs softly, tucking her head underneath your chin, and all you can do is capture every moment in a frame of time. it’s moment like these that make yelena fall in love with you even more, when your lips are against her forehead and mumbling words that make her melt into a puddle of romances.
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──── ♥ WANDA
angel kisses. it’s a sweet name for an even sweeter kiss. angel kisses are placed on the closed eyelids, and it’s something wanda really fancies, something you do all the time. the world can get so loud and unbearable – but when you wrap wanda up in your arms and place kisses on her closed eyes, she stops trembling and it becomes a little more okay. wanda’s been through so much, and the fact in itself that you’re one of the few who’ve bothered to stand by her side all the way means so much. it means more when her eyes are closed and your lips are right there, always there for her. that sweetness is comparable to an angel, so maybe that’s where it got its name.
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──── ♥ MARIA
cheek kisses. for such a skilled agent, it’s surprising how you take maria by surprise every time you kiss her on the cheek. maybe that’s an emblem of how she lets down her walls around you, whether she liked it or not — you love maria, undeniably so, and though it took her far longer, she does love you too. a striking example of this is the small smile she allows to slip beyond the cold demeanour, whenever you so casually walk up to her and distractedly press a fleeting kiss on the side of her face. if it was anyone else, maria would’ve probably had them knocked out in seconds flat, but you’re not them, and your lips on her cheek are far sweeter. it’s the way you do it so absent-mindedly, too, like it’s a part of your daily routine and pepppering kisses on maria’s cheeks are a simple way of life. cute, and soft, and mushy, like those rom-com films maria hates, but she’d watch them all day, if it meant your lips would meet her cheeks once again.
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──── ♥ PEGGY
back-of-hand kisses. peggy, who is so headstrong and rarely shows her tender side, unexpectedly loves back-of-hand kisses. it’s just the way you brush your lips against her skin, over the callouses and the blemishes, cherishing her as if she ever deserved that delicacy. "i absolutely adore you, my love," you would mumble, pressing your lips against her knuckles gingerly just before she leaves for work. she would bite back a smile, feeling her insides turn into mush. she thinks she can handle another day disciplining rowdy soldiers if it means she can wake another day by your side.
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──── ♥ NATASHA
stomach kisses. scars and bruises and stretch marks are nothing new to natasha, and while she’d never admit she was acutely insecure of them, it does bother her to an extent that she avoids looking at her stomach in the mirror. it’s stupid, honestly, because natasha is a world-class assassin, and she’d rather look dead in the eyes of a bleeding man than her own stomach, but then you came along and flipped her world upside down. the first night you trail kisses along her stomach, lips fluttering over every scar and bruise, natasha almost cries. she's never felt so loved. you don’t say anything, and she’s grateful for your silence, but you press a few extra kisses on the bullet wounds and the beautiful stretch marks. it’s so loving and tender, that you even bother to kiss her stomach that delicately, and natasha thinks she doesn’t deserve you but you’d always tell her otherwise.
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──── ♥ SHURI
neck kisses. shuri absolutely loves the sensation of neck kisses. shuri could be up in her lab, so focused on her current project, but all that fades away when you wrap your arms around her from behind, and pull her into a soft kiss on the neck. she sighs softly, then leans back into your grasp, tilting her head up to meet your eyes lovingly. you give her a lopsided, lovesick smile, still not saying anything. you just duck down to press another kiss on the narrow column of her neck, hands encircling her waist as she lets her eyes flutter shut. it's all shuri ever needed, but when your kisses start lingering a little too long and your hands start wandering a little too far, she isn't complaining, either.
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──── ♥ KATE
spiderman kisses. the name is quite funny, since the two of you do know peter parker, but then again there's no other way to explain it. kate somehow always ends up on the floor, be it after a night of slumber, or playing with lucky, or watching tv. you find it so endearing, and you can't help when stand over her and peck her lips. your chins brush against each others' noses, and kate lets out a breathy laugh. both of you are smiling into the kiss, and the butterflies in kate's stomach flutter. it's so goofy, but it encaptures your relationship in the most perfect way imaginable ─ there's no need to take it too seriously, because both of you are just going with the flow. whatever happens, both of you will always be there for each other, with spiderman kisses or not.
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taglist: @simp4wanda26 @natashamaximoff69 @ohsugar-honey-iced-tea @fayhar @bibliophilicbi @screechcat @rowanyaboats @nahnahnahwhat @the-night-owl-blr @matchasrad @wannabe-fic-reader @natsxwife @wandsmxmff @enanna-h @gay4lizzie @jemilyswhor3 wanna be added to the taglist to see more works like this? leave an ask in my inbox! if by any chance you want to be removed from the taglist, also leave an ask in my inbox.
man i loved writing this, got me in the feels. happy late valentines, everyone.
masterlist / AO3
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miryum · 2 months ago
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Trust (Mattheo Riddle x Reader) Southern Regency AU
Warnings: Reader is a bit of a brat/empty-minded at first but it gets so much better, 10-ish age difference, Reader is in love with Harry Potter at first (or thinks she is), set in the South (of the US), inspired by Gone With the Wind
Y/n L/n was the belle of the South. She had the Weasley twins running after her every weekend and at the weekly balls, their older brother, Charlie, had to have the first dance with her. Her father had rejected numerous suitors, but that didn’t mean they stopped trying. The Diggory family had made a large offer, but their estate was too small for the L/n family.
The L/n’s consisted of the patriarch, William, and the matriarch, Peggy. While William ran the fields, Peggy ran his heart and household. Their oldest was their pride and joy, Y/n, followed by Odessa. Odessa hated being in her sister’s shadow. It meant her infatuation for George Weasley was seen as childish and unwanted. The L/n’s had one last daughter, Della, who was ten years younger than Y/n. Della was a sweetheart who trailed after her mother, following every step religiously.
The family had many acres of fields stretching around their mansion, as did everyone else in the county. Their fields were rich with grains that shipped out to the rest of the state. William had built up an empire that was now run smoothly by his wife. So, no, not a Weasley or Diggory was good enough for their daughter. She was much too young and had years ahead of her before she was considered an old spinster.
Many boys trailed after Y/n, begging for a chance to court her, and she was happy to flirt with them. The boys, after years of growing up around the same children their entire lives, soon learned how to gain Y/n’s attention. They had to catch her when her father was busy, otherwise she would turn into his perfect, sweet little girl who could do no wrong. If her sisters were around, the younger girls would try to steal the attention and Y/n would revert to her cool, unimpressed self that none of the boys could crack. However, if the girl was at a ball or they rode over to her house to catch her reading on the porch, that’s when she would flirt and touch their arm lightly with her coy smile.
But it was not the Weasley twins or the Diggory boy that Y/n wanted. It was Harry Potter. The boy was so oblivious, it was tantalising. He had a mature air around him that no other boy did. He would ride up to her house every Sunday on his majestic white horse, Hedwig, and speak to her like no one else did. He read her poems and took her riding and was just so pretty. He talked a lot about politics and the different families of the South, and that Y/n didn’t like, but he made it up with the little gifts he brought her. There was that lace fan he brought her after his Grand Tour and even some pressed flowers in a thick book. She tried to read the book to show Harry that she cared, but it had such tiny print and was about boring law that she gave up after the first couple of paragraphs.
It was a cool June evening and the windows were open at the L/n villa. The soft breeze ruffled the curtains when the neighbour’s gossip finally reached the ladies in the house. A new engagement in the state! The four females sat at the dining table, William at the head, seemingly bored. Odessa asked excitedly who would be going to the engagement party, thinking of her dear George Weasley.
“It seems like everyone in the county,” Peggy commented, regurgitating what she had learned from the women in her cross-stitch group. “The Weasleys, the Longbottoms, the Malfoys.”
William scoffed and rattled off, “the Weasleys? Their entire brood? And the Longbottoms? They’re hardly in high society. Why invite them? And must we engage with the Malfoys? You know how they get, dear Peggy.”
“William,” Peggy reprimanded, clicking her tongue. “It’s Ginerva’s engagement. Do be kind.”
Y/n raised her head from her plate and asked, “Ginny’s getting married? The little one? To whom? Wasn’t that boy Dean Thomas pursuing her?”
“No, no,” Peggy waved her daughter off. “He was a nice young lad, but they never got along.” She took a bite of food as if she wasn’t about to deliver earth-shattering news to her unsuspecting daughter. “She’s getting married to Harry Potter.”
Y/n didn’t think she heard the rest of the conversation. Small Ginny Weasley, the girl with the choppy red hair and ugly dresses, was marrying her Harry? The Harry that had the most beautiful eyes and lovely lilting words and understanding conversations? Yes, their families were close and Harry was best friends with Ginny’s older brother, but he loved Y/n. She knew it. The way he lit up when he saw her and the way his smile slowly stretched over his lips until he was laughing so hard he couldn’t breathe. All of that was her Harry.
“Y/n?” Della asked from the other side of the table, always aware of her elder sister. “Are you alright?” But the girl couldn’t say anything. For if she did, then her whole family would know her secret. And then her mother would be embarrassed and aghast. Her father would think of her as yet still a child, brushing away her affection. Lousy Odessa would gossip to George Weasley and his twin, wanting to win over their favour, and the twins would surely tell their engaged sister. Della wouldn’t understand, the poor girl just an infant in Y/n’s eyes.
“Yes, yes, I’m alright,” Y/n muttered. “Father, I’m feeling a bit faint. I think something with the salad didn’t sit right with me. I’m to lie down.”
William muttered permission, waving his daughter away. Y/n tried not to run to her room, for fear it would give her emotions away. But the moment her door was locked safely behind her, she fell onto her bed, sobbing. How could Harry do this to her?
Oh, what was her life coming to?
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Y/n had a plan. If only she could get Harry alone at his engagement party and confess her true feelings, he would see they were meant to be together. The problem was that Ginny stuck to his side like annoying glue. It seemed as if the two were off in their own little world, gazing into each other's eyes. Well, Y/n huffed to herself, two can play that game. That’s how she found herself surrounded by beaus from all over the county.
Cedric Diggory sat on the bench next to her and the Weasley twins sat at her feet on the grass. Fred Weasley went even farther and laid his head on her skirts dramatically whenever he wanted her attention. Neville Longbottom stood beside them all, looking nervously back at his Gran, who was determined to get her grandson connected to the L/n’s. Even Dean Thomas, still getting over his loss of Ginny Weasley, was there, trying to talk to an anxious Neville.
Batting her eyes and fanning herself playfully under the pretence of the hot sun, Y/n walked the line of flirtatious and bashful perfectly. She could feel the glares of all the other girls at the party, but she ignored them. She was talking to George Weasley when she spotted another boy to catch in her web. “Oh, Georgie, the Malfoy’s are here,” she commented smoothly.
This caught the rest of the suitor’s attention. “Oh, joy,” Fred said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “Come, Y/n, let me whisk you heroically away before that greased boy tries to woo you.”
“You mean Draco?” Y/n laughed melodically, which made Neville blush deeply. “Oh, he’s no harm. A bit rude and uppity, but just a boy when it all comes down to it.”
“Yes, but a boy,” Fred confirmed. “You, love, need a man.” At that, he took her hand and kissed her knuckles.
Y/n opened her fan and hid her face behind it teasingly. “Oh, Mr. Fred, you charmer,” she chastised.
“Oh, my,” Cedric breathed out, which made Y/n’s attention turn from Fred, who pouted, to the Diggory boy. Did the Malfoy’s bring a girl that captured Cedric’s eye? Oh, that would be horrid for her plan. But, no. Following Cedric’s stare, Y/n saw another man emerge with Mr. Lucious Malfoy.
“Who is that?” she asked without thinking, placing a hand on Cedric’s arm.
“What on earth is he doing here?” Dean Thomas demanded, back stiffening and hands clasping behind his back. His voice was just loud enough for Y/n and her suitors to hear. But he didn’t answer her question.
Y/n huffed slightly and turned to Neville. He would always be at her beck and call. “Neville, who is that man?” she asked again, tone firm.
Neville tore his eyes away from the mysterious man and stuttered, “uh, well, Miss Y/n, that’s Mattheo Riddle.” He slowly sat down next to her, as if testing the waters.
“Mattheo Riddle?” Y/n repeated, the name feeling heavy on her tongue. “Why, I’ve never heard of him.”
“Then your father did a good job,” Fred glowered. It seemed as if he wasn’t the only one shooting dirty looks at the new man.
Dean Thomas agreed, “yes, no respectable lady should have heard of him. An absolute abomination of a gentleman.”
Y/n’s eyes widen in the presence of new gossip and scandal, something all ladies of the county grasped for. None were above whispering to their friends behind their hands whenever they heard something enticing. “Whatever did he do?” she asked desperately.
Cedric was the one to inform her that Mr. Mattheo Riddle was the infamous bastard child of Tom Riddle and Bellatrix Lestrange. That made him the nephew of Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy. Allegedly, Mr. Riddle’s father had left him and his mother at a young age, only making visits when he felt it necessary to shape Mr. Riddle into a harsh young man. Mr. Riddle had left to join the military, but was dishonourably discharged when he shot and killed another man for speaking ill of his family and upbringing. He then followed in his father’s footsteps of backalley trading and illicit affairs. With his father and mother’s separate fortunes, along with the one he earned, he had amassed large wealth.
Y/n couldn’t help but watch Mattheo Riddle. Neville tried to hold a conversation with the girl, and she tried to entertain him, she really did, but the way Mr. Riddle held himself on the outskirts of the party captivated her. With a drink swirling in one hand and the other tucked smartly behind his back, he looked… perfunctorily debonair.
For a man a decade older than her, he was incredibly handsome. He was easily the best dressed man at the party, even better than Lucius Malfoy himself. And his hair was most unusual. Rather than the slicked back style that most young boys wore, his had more volume, showing his curls. Y/n could see his striking and calculative eyes from across the yard. They took one sweep around the party, yet glazed over her.
It took everything within Y/n not to march over to the newcomer and demand his attention. Why were his eyes not on her? But then Neville placed a concerned hand on her back and asked if she was okay. He really is a sweet boy, Y/n thought to herself. “Yes, I’m alright,” she assured him. “I just may go lie down with the rest of the ladies.”
“Oh! Of course!” Neville scrambled to his feet and helped her up. Fred Weasley let out a whine when his headrest disappeared, but understood how a delicate lady needed her rest.
“Thank you, Neville,” Y/n said sincerely. She patted his hand and whispered theatrically, “you know… you didn’t hear this from me, but I think Miss Luna Lovegood fancies you.” Neville turned a dark shade of red as Y/n made her way to the house.
But she wasn’t going to nap. With the rest of the girls also laying down, including Ginny, this was her chance to speak to Harry. She would confess her love and he would tell her he always reciprocated and then he would break off his engagement and perhaps Ginny would be sad, but Y/n’s parents couldn’t get mad once they saw how happy their daughter was.
Once inside, Y/n saw Harry bid a loving goodbye to Ginny, the latter who went upstairs to nap. Her future fiancé then turned around and noticed her. “Y/n,” he greeted with a grin. He leaned down to press a chaste kiss to her cheek. “How are you? You’ve been so busy all party, I didn’t have the chance to talk to you!” Ah, so he had seen her with her suitors. Pride filled her. This was going perfectly.
“Harry, could we talk in the library?” Y/n asked, smiling up at him, an intoxication of love filling her veins. Harry raised a curious brow, but agreed. He followed her into the library where he asked if everything was alright. “Yes, I’m fine,” she told him. “I only need to tell you something, Harry.”
“And what is that?” Harry replied with a grin, thinking it was all some lighthearted joke.
Y/n pressed a hand to her chest and looked up at him, eyes wide and pleading. “Oh, Harry,” she began. “I must say something now before you go on with this whole affair! I mean, it is truly noble of you to sacrifice yourself for the poor girl, but I couldn’t let you go on with it! Especially when I know your feelings, Harry,” she said. The boy’s expression slowly changed to one of merriment to one of guarded concern. “I’m in love with you, Harry!” Y/n exclaimed, reaching forward to clasp his hands. “I have been all my life and I know you feel the same! So why marry Ginerva when you could marry me?”
Harry didn’t say anything for a moment before he slowly retracted his hands from her gloved grip. “Y/n,” he said slowly. “I’m utterly flattered. But I’m marrying Ginny. I can’t… I can’t love you, you know that, yes?”
Confusion showed on Y/n’s face, but a small smile still managed to quirk up on her lips. “But you do, don’t you?” she asked. “Love me, I mean. I know you do, Harry.” After a moment of hesitance, she added, “right?”
“Dear,” Harry said, taking her hands in his and patting them reassuringly. “I’ve always been fond of you. You’re very witty and brave. But that’s not… that’s not who I need. I need Ginny,” he stated, looking uncomfortable. “You’re a lovely girl. Any man would be lucky to have you. But… I’m not that man for you.”
Y/n didn’t remember the rest of the conversation. She was sure Harry said some more nice things, all very awkwardly, and she remembered that he kissed her lightly on the cheek, but then she was left alone. She let herself fall onto a nearby settee, face flushed and hand on her stomach. She felt sick. But she also felt mad. Terribly mad. And yet, depressed. Too many emotions were swirling around her that she wasn’t herself when, with a yell, she picked up a vase and hurled it across the room. With a satisfying smash, it crackled and split onto the floor, just like her poor heart.
A low, amused chuckle filled the room and Y/n whirled around to see Mattheo Riddle sitting up on a couch. “What- who- what are you doing here?!” Y/n cried.
“Why, I was just taking a nap when I got disturbed by an unrequited declaration of love and a splintered vase. Whose is that anyways?” Mr. Riddle asked smoothly, shoulders still shaking from his laughter. “Whom will your father have to pay off?”
“Don’t you dare tell my father!” Y/n said, somewhere between desperate and demanding. “Oh, you sordid man! You have no right to listen in on a private conversation.”
“A rather amusing conversation,” Mr. Riddle chuckled, a wry smile stretching his lips. “I never thought you the type to lust after Mr. Potter.”
Y/n’s skirts swirled around her as she turned away from him in anger but then rounded on him again. “You don’t know a thing about me, sir! Why, I’ve never seen you before in my life.”
“And yet by the way you court all those other men, them begging after you like dogs, gives me a glimpse into your character.” It was then that Mr. Riddle took her hand in the most gentle way possible and laid a kiss upon her knuckles. The girl stilled. “Mattheo Riddle, at your service only, dear.”
“My service only?” is what Y/n could think to reply, not even giving her name like a proper lady would.
Mattheo inclined his head in a coy manner. “Yes.”
After a beat, Y/n grumped, “is that all you’re going to say?”
“I have nothing else to say.” Mattheo shrugged. One of his brows raised innocently. But Y/n got the feeling he was anything but. “Other than to ask for your name,” he added.
“Miss Y/n L/n and you will address me as such,” Y/n declared. “None of that ‘dear’ sobriquet.”
“Well, Miss Y/n L/n,” Mattheo began. “You best be hurrying along. The other women will wake from their rest soon and you wouldn’t want to be caught in the library with me, a sordid man.” He repeated her words back, but mockery laced his tone.
Y/n’s face grew hot and she spluttered a bit, looking very flustered and angered. Mr. Riddle watched on in amusement. “And how do I know you’ll keep your mouth shut about what you heard?” she asked finally.
At that, Mattheo Riddle smirked. “You don’t. You’ll just have to trust me.”
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A week later was Harry and Ginny’s wedding. Y/n wore a deep blue dress, bordering on black. Yet she smiled and cheered along with the rest of the guests, even as her joy slipped away. She had half a mind to propose to Neville just to pull some attention onto her.
Mr. Mattheo Riddle was not there. Not that Y/n noticed.
She was sitting on the porch about three days later, pitying herself as she worked on her embroidery. She was trying to stitch a lovely sunrise, but she just couldn’t get a cloud right. She hardly heard the sounds of horse hooves clopping down the drive. “Miss Y/n L/n,” a gratingly familiar voice called out.
She sighed and her hands fell to her lap in exasperation. “I’m doing my embroidery!” she called back. “I don’t have time for eavesdropping men who dub me frustrating monikers.”
“You sure know plenty of synonyms for nicknames,” Mattheo commented, swinging his leg over his horse to dismount.
“Father keeps me well read.”
Mattheo bounded up the porch steps to reach her, but then realised that looked too childish, no matter how much he wanted to see her. He quickly composed himself. “And what is the lovely lady sewing?” he asked, settling into the rocking chair near her.
“I don’t recall inviting you up for a chat,” she said snarkily. After a moment where he just smirked at her, she replied, “and it’s a sunset. Or a sunrise. I’m not entirely sure yet. Whatever it is, it’s mightily frustrating.” She pricked her finger with the needle and exclaimed out.
Mr. Riddle’s brows furrowed and he took the cross-stitch away, not wanting her to get any more hurt. “Don’t you have a maid to stitch this for you?”
“Mother thinks every proper lady should know how to wield a needle and thread,” Y/n said, her back straightening. She then scowled. “Of course, Odessa has already perfected hers.”
It was then that the girl noticed Mr. Mattheo Riddle carefully stitching her embroidery, his nimble fingers tugging and looping the needle perfectly. Noticing her shocked face, Mattheo explained, “my grandmother taught me how. It was one of her favourite pastimes. I pricked myself many times — just like you. Of course, my father found it too feminine, but I just liked spending time with my grandmother. Perhaps that’s why my grandmother taught me her craft: so I could spare you some trouble and pain. I will gladly do so, darling.”
The air settled around them. Her father’s hounds were barking in the field and she could hear the servants singing from behind the house, doing laundry. She shifted in her seat. “What was her name?” Y/n asked cautiously, still not trusting this man.
“Merope,” Mattheo answered softly. “The poor thing had memory loss, you know. She couldn’t remember my name, much less what we had stitched last time I had visited. But she loved me. And so she taught me how to embroider over and over again.”
Y/n swallowed thickly. She could almost envision Mattheo as a child, climbing onto his grandma's lap to watch her sew out a work of art. Maybe they had sat on a rocking chair on a porch, just like she and Mattheo did now. She watched him finish the cloud she had been working on before handing her back the hoop. “Why are you here?” she wondered, staring down at the cloud, which was done much better than her own.
“To convince you that you can trust me.” And with that, he stood and kissed her forehead before straightening his suit and walking back to his horse. As he gripped the reins in his hands, he yelled back, “oh, and to inform you that I’ll be competing for your hand!”
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She saw him next about two months later, at another county party. But this party was special. It was all for Y/n.
William L/n had gone all out for his eldest daughter. This was the day when all the formal suitors presented themselves. Yes, Fred and George Weasley had been courting her for years, but it would now be official. Not only were two of the Weasleys there, but Cedric Diggory, Oliver Wood, Ernie Macmillan, and Dean Thomas and his close friend, Seamus Finnigan. Neville Longbottom was now happily engaged to Luna Lovegood.
As much as Y/n put on a front, being surrounded by men, some of which were years older, was intimidating. She flirted and blushed and acted like a lady, but when Seamus Finnigan talked to Cedric Diggory about the growth of their family’s crops, talking around Y/n as Oliver Wood tried to entertain her with polo facts, she felt useless. Bored. Like a prop to be placed on someone’s arm.
That’s when Mattheo Riddle walked in. He stayed on the outskirts of the party for a long while, observing. He didn’t hide the fact that he was watching Y/n’s attention be snapped up by suitor after suitor. His eyes were already on hers whenever she glanced up to him. It was a dangerous game he was playing, but one he didn’t want to quit. Maybe this was what had drawn him to this little county in the countryside. Maybe Draco’s letter of invitation wasn’t all for naught. It couldn’t be, not when her eyes made him feel more alive than ever before. Mattheo Riddle made a promise to himself, then and there, as he watched the seven suitors surrounding Y/n. He would marry that girl.
Only a few minutes later did Ernie Macmillan chuckle in disbelief. “Is that Mattheo Riddle?” he asked. Y/n let the other men answer, for fear of sounding as if she had been gazing at the forbidden man. Which, if her father asked, she had not.
“Sir!” Seamus Finnigan called out from where he was lounging on the couch. His arm hung over the back of Y/n’s chair, something he found courage to do with the whiskey flowing through his veins. “Come join us, I beg you.”
Mattheo quirked a brow but strode over from where he was leaning against the wall. “Gentlemen,” he greeted smoothly. “How are you all this fine day?” He shook hands with each man. It was only then he allowed his eyes to settle on Y/n. “Ah, my dear Miss Y/n.” Her eyes watched the way his lip curved into a smile. “It’s lovely to see you here.” He took her hand in his and brushed her knuckles to his lips. It took all of Y/n’s restraint not to take in a shaky breath.
“Why, this is her party, after all,” Fred Weasley said, smirking. “Why wouldn’t she be here?”
“Mr. Weasley.” Mattheo turned to the man. “Perhaps if you had paid attention to my words, I never said I was surprised to see her, only delighted. And I can assure you, I am very delighted.” George Weasley snickered and clapped his twin on the shoulder. Fred just glared at the Riddle heir.
Mattheo sat down on the ottoman by Y/n’s feet, posture straight and perfect. An electrifying shiver ran down his spine as Y/n asked how he was. “Splendid,” he told her. “After all, I am in your presence. Darling, if any of these men told you they were less than splendid, I’ll offer to kick them to the street at your command.” The suitors chuckled at the joke, but Mattheo just held his future wife’s gaze. They both knew he meant every word.
Oliver Wood shook his head. “I still can’t believe I have the honour to meet the Mattheo Riddle. From all the rumours, I thought you were surely a ghost story.”
“I hate to disappoint,” came the easy reply.
“No, no disappointment here.” Oliver held up his hands. “Just surprise. I didn’t expect to see you here.”
Mattheo stared down the man. “Why wouldn’t I be here?”
Oliver stammered out, “well, because people see you as- as well, good sir, I needn’t offend, but-”
“Cruel?” Mattheo supplied. After the awkward glances were exchanged between the suitors, he continued, “Unwanted? Cynical, unfeeling, only out for himself and his riches? Well, I can’t say you’re wrong,” he said simply. “I’ve done unhonourable things and I’ve lived my life for my own gain. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings. Or that I can’t love,” he finished, eyes on Y/n.
She shifted under his stare and opened her fan to hide her blush. “I may go lay down,” she whispered out. The seven men around her began to protest, but Mr. Riddle simply held his hand out for her to take. He helped her stand and then bid her farewell. He settled back onto the ottoman to which the other men glared at him.
“Why can’t you corrupt some other girl?” Ernie Macmillan grumbled into his whiskey glass that he took a long swallow of. The other suitors seemed to deflate as well, now calling for more alcohol, slouching in their seats, and using more vulgar language. It was only Mattheo Riddle that kept his posture, his little cup of whiskey, and preserved tone. But even he felt a flare of anger at Mr. Macmillan’s words. “Take another girl for your wife. But leave this one for the rest of us. Why do you suddenly have a claim over her?”
“Another girl, you say?” Mattheo repeated, voice low and protective. “Take another one for my wife and leave her for the rest of you? Is that what you think I want? To just take any girl as my wife? No,” he stated, plain and simple, “I want her and only her. And why do I have a sudden claim over her? I don’t. And do not mistake her for a girl, Macmillan. She is a fierce woman, one none of you boys could handle. But perhaps… Perhaps I have fallen in love with her. Against all reason and sanity,” he added in a mutter, taking a swig of whiskey.
“But it’s foolish!” Fred Weasley exclaimed as all other men were stunned to silence. “You- you’ve only met the girl – pardon, woman – once. More than two months ago. And serving my memory, you never even talked to the Miss.” Fred’s memory didn’t have all the facts, as Mr. Riddle had met Y/n twice and had talked to her on both occasions.
Mattheo shot back, “love often makes us do foolish things, does it not? And I’m willing to be a fool for her, if that’s what it takes.”
Cedric Diggory studied Mattheo for a moment before musing, “you’re an admirable man, Mr. Riddle. But you must know I, along with the rest of these men, will still fight for her hand. And we have an advantage: her father’s approval.”
“What does her father’s approval mean if you don’t have her heart?” Mattheo asked. “If she doesn’t love you, what good does it do?”
“Well, does she love you?” Seamus Finnigan implored, trying to turn the tables on the man.
At that, Mr. Riddle rested his weight on the palm of his hand, leaning back. Even though his face was collected, a brush of pain swept over his heart, knowing the answer was uncertain. “Does she love me?” he echoed, tone soft. “I hope so.” He knew when it was best to shut up, so he didn’t say what he really wanted to; she hasn’t said the words, but I see it in her eyes. I see the fire in her, the same fire that burns within me. “You may think it hopeless,” he observed, looking at the other men. “That it’s foolish, believing she could return my love. Call me a fool, then. But I know what I feel, and I won’t give up on her, no matter how hopeless it may seem.”
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Y/n had made it a habit of sitting outside, in case Mattheo Riddle came riding by again. Her efforts weren’t in vain, for a couple days later, his horse trotted up.
The coy look on his face showed he was feeling sly and quick-witted that day. He would make Y/n vie for his affections, no doubt in her mind. He dismounted with a flourish and a smirk, his coattails flipping out behind him. “Ah, my dear Miss L/n,” he called out, his voice carrying mischief. “I hope I find you well today!”
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you call me by my last name,” Y/n replied, setting her book down. “‘Miss Y/n’, or perchance ‘dear’ or ‘darling’, but never Miss L/n.”
“Hmm, my apologies, my dear,” he said as he strode up towards her, mock formality in his voice. “I suppose I’ve become accustomed to calling you by your given name. But I do like the sound of ‘Miss L/n’ as well. It has a certain… ring to it.” He took a seat on the rocking chair next to her and studied her book. “Never thought you the type to read Hunchback of Notre Dame.”
“It’s a love story,” Y/n defended.
“It most certainly is not,” Mattheo chuckled. “You’ve read it before, I assume?”
Y/n huffed. Why she continued to entertain Mr. Riddle was beyond her. “His devotion is clear. And yes, I have. Anyway, before you so very rudely interrupted me, I was going to say I thought you would detest my last name.”
Mattheo clicked his tongue and leaned back in his chair. “There isn’t much I could detest when it comes to you,” he admitted, glancing over slyly at her.
“How sweet.” Y/n rolled her eyes sardonically, but couldn’t help but smile. She added after a moment, “though I still thought you would dislike it.”
He shot her a lazy smile. He hadn’t felt this relaxed in a long time, looking out over her family’s lands. “And why would I dislike it, my darling?”
Y/n let out a soft, mischievous laugh. “Well, I thought surely you’d want to change it.”
“Change it, darling?” Mattheo raised a brow. “Pray tell, what would I change it to?”
Her eyes travelled to the sky, for if Y/n was to look at Mr. Riddle, her gaze would be transfixed on his lips. She swallowed and said slowly, “something that sounds like yours?”
Mattheo’s stare snapped towards her. “Are you suggesting what I think you are?” he murmured in a soft tone.
Ever playing coquettish, the woman responded, “what do you think I’m suggesting?”
Mattheo leaned in a bit closer, his heart beating faster at the notion he was about to say. “I think you’re suggesting you’d like to carry the Riddle surname, my darling,” he replied. “Is that what you’re implying?”
“Perhaps,” Y/n forced out after a short silence.
“And here I thought you thought me brutish and sordid.” When Y/n didn’t answer, an embarrassed flush on her cheek, he said in a quiet voice, “you know, if you enjoy Hunchback, you should see Notre Dame in person. Paris is lovely. We should go sometime.” He crossed one leg over the other and turned his attention back towards the horizon.
Y/n’s lips curved into a small smile. “I would like that.”
“Of course,” Mattheo added, clearing his throat, “if you’re still hung up on Mr. Potter, then you should probably go with him.”
Why, Y/n hadn’t thought about Harry once in the past weeks. How peculiar. And based on the little smirk on Mattheo’s face, he knew it. “I don’t think Harry and I were the right fit,” she said eventually.
“Oh?”
“No,” she mused. “It’s frustrating, yes? You think you have your whole life planned ahead and then… it gets ripped away from you.”
“Or maybe it’s just getting started,” Mattheo muttered. “Your life, I mean. You’re young, Y/n. And Harry Potter shouldn’t dictate whether or not your life has started or ended.”
“I’m not getting any younger,” Y/n complained. “Father wants to marry me off to a good, wealthy man before I turn twenty-five. I thought with Harry, I could get some love out of it as well.”
Mattheo asked honestly, “would it matter if you loved your husband if your husband loved you with everything in him?”
Y/n’s fingers fiddled with the pages of her book. “I think if someone loved me that much,” she whispered, “it would be impossible not to love him back.”
Mattheo felt his hand twitch as he looked down at her fingers. Slowly, he reached out to encircle her palm in his. His warm hand held hers loosely, so that Y/n could pull away if she wished, but just firmly enough that she could sense his devotion.
“Why… why are you doing this?” Y/n asked.
“The truth?” Once Y/n nodded, he continued, “I see the fire in you… The same fire that burns in me. Well, that used to burn in me.” Mattheo paused. “I’m sure you know of my father. I hated the man, and am ashamed to call him a father. But, even so, after he died, I’ve felt… stuck, Y/n. If we’re to keep with the fire analogy, I fizzled out. Yet with you…” he chuckled and shook his head. “Well, I’m sure you know where I’m going with this.”
“So what do you want me to do?” Y/n whispered. “Is this you proposing marriage, Mr. Riddle?” She smirked, even though her heart began beating a bit more quickly.
When Mattheo shook his head, she couldn't help but feel just a little bit disappointed. “No, that’s much too soon for you. Maybe in two or three years. But…” he threw her a wry grin, squeezing her hand lightly. “This is me proposing I begin courting you.”
“What?” Her hand flexed around his. “Really?”
“You can trust me.”
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Four years later, because Y/n was notoriously stubborn when it came to her beau, Mattheo Riddle got down on one knee. “My darling dear,” he teased, using the nicknames he knew she hated. Y/n rolled her eyes in response. “You have made me wait what seems like millennia to finally officially call you mine. Of course, I’d wait aeons more, but I’m hoping that today, you’ll put me out of my misery and give me the honour of being your husband.”
“You’ll take me to Paris for the honeymoon?” Y/n asked, despite the tears shining in her eyes.
Mattheo let out a loud, joyful laugh. “Yes, yes I will.” And as he slid the ring on her finger, he murmured, “you can trust me.”
“I always have.”
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katsurinssims · 24 days ago
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Adventglow day 4
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Peggy donate 12, PF-EF, afterglow blended with Peggy textures, in 1 afterglow family, 1 alternative family, and 9 unbinned unnaturals, 1936 poly. Download
Peggy donate 13, PM-EM, afterglow blended with Peggy textures, in 1 afterglow family, 1 alternative family, and 9 unbinned unnaturals, 1948 poly. Download
Raon M008, PM-EM, afterglow textures, in 1 afterglow family, 1 alternative family, and 9 unbinned unnaturals, 1820 poly. Download
Sunair T028, PF-EF, afterglow textures, in 1 afterglow family + 1 alternative family, 1723 poly. Download
Alt: download from simblr
T028 has a fun lil bobble accsessory in a few colours, and I didn't make customs for a lot of the hairs with accessories, so no unnaturals for this one. Its really cute though (and availible for younger ages), I like it!
Credits: Peggy, Sunair and Raon for the meshes and original textures, Antoninko for the afterglow textures and actions! check @the-afterglow-archive for more Afterglow ₊˚⊹♡
Buy me a coffee? I have a Ko-Fi!
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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 1 year ago
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The Perfect Send Off
Pairing: Billy Taylor x f!reader Warnings: Mentions of war, slight coercion and corruption kink, loss of (male) virginity, smut. Word count: ~2.1k
Summary: Visiting war torn London, while helping to evacuate her sister and her children back to Cambridge, a young woman finds herself checked in at The Halcyon, and catches the attention of their bell boy, soon to be soldier, Billy. Based on this request.
Author's note: No tag list. Please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Community labels are for cops.
“Billy, don’t stare!” Peggy chastises her son with a swat to the arm. “Help the lady with her bags.”
Her eyes move appreciatively over the tall form of the sandy haired young man in front of her. He offers her a tight lipped smile, obviously flustered, considering the shade of scarlet he’s turning, before grabbing her suitcases from the marble floor of the hotel foyer. “Sorry, Mum,” he mumbles awkwardly to the dark haired woman beside him.
“It’s Mrs. Taylor in front of the guests, how many times?!” She hisses quietly, before turning back to her with a charming, painted-on-for-the-guests type smile. “Welcome to The Halcyon, madam. Billy is one of our bell boys, and will take your bags to your room for you now that you’re all checked in. My name’s Peggy, I operate the switchboard. Please don’t hesitate to ring down if you need anything. I hope you enjoy your stay.”
She watches Peggy walk away, each click of her high heels growing quieter as she retreats, before turning back to Billy, who stands there expectantly with her bags in his large hands.
Oh, I certainly will enjoy my stay.
She had arrived in London by train from Cambridge that morning, intending to leave again with her sister and her children. Since war had broken out, the frequent airstrikes over London had made it too dangerous for them to remain, so they’d be staying with her until it was safe to come back - provided they had a home to return to.
It would take a few days for her sister to get packed and have the house and children’s schooling in order, so she’d be staying at The Halcyon until they were ready to leave.
She spares a sideways glance at the bellboy as they stand in the lift together, the reddening of his face from having been caught staring at her only just beginning to fade. He’s younger than her by at least a couple of years, but has chiseled features that make him look handsome despite his bashful nature, and he fills out the grey slacks of his uniform more than adequately.
The reason for her trip to London is a serious matter, but she figures there’s no harm in having some fun with it.
“It’s nice that a young lad like you gets to work with their mother,” she says with a sultry smile, as the lift travels upwards.
His eyebrows raise, blue eyes widening slightly as he turns to her in the small space. “Oh, I’m not a lad, I’m a man…I mean, working with me mum, it’s not forever. Expecting me draft papers any day now…miss?”
He looks at her uncertainly and she huffs a quiet laugh as they step out of the lift together. “Yes, miss is fine, I don’t have a husband.”
Billy presses his lips together and averts his eyes, nodding slightly.
“So, you’re signed up to draft,” she says as they reach the door of her room, “how exciting for you. You’ll have to pop by and let me know your posting once you find out, I’d love to know.”
He falters, the suitcases he’d been carrying thumping heavily to the ground as he stoops to deposit them over the threshold of her room. He straightens, clasping his hands in front of him, and looks at her apologetically. “Oh…yeah, course…yeah, I will!”
She holds his gaze for a few moments, enjoying his barely disguised panic, before she speaks again. “I’d give you a tip, but I’m afraid I’m unsure of which bag I’ve put my purse in–”
“Oh, it’s no trouble, honestly, don’t worry,” he insists hurriedly.
“Nonsense, I have to give you something,” she purrs, “will this do?”
She leans up and presses a chaste kiss to his cheek, watching him carefully as she settles back on her feet.
His eyes go wide, the scarlet hue returning to his skin as he battles to hide a grin, tugging at the collar of his uniform. She hears him mutter “bloody hell” beneath his breath, as his eyes dart nervously down the corridor.
She wonders if he’s ever kissed anyone before, based on his reaction to a mere peck on the cheek she supposes he probably hasn’t.
Oh, my stay here is certainly going to be fun.
“Was that to your liking, Billy?” She asks with a smirk.
“Oh…oh yeah…thanks,” he says, swallowing thickly and trying to regain his composure.
Adorable.
“My pleasure. If that’s everything then, I’ll see you later?”
He nods, retreating from the doorway and down the corridor, sparing glances back over his shoulder at her standing there, until he’s back in the lift and out of sight.
It’s nearly two days later when she’s heading back up to her room in the late afternoon, having spent the day with her sister, that Billy rushes towards her, eyes lit up with excitement and a wide grin on his face.
“I got my posting this morning!” He tells her excitedly as she puts her key in her room door.
“Congratulations, soldier,” she says with a wink, “got time to come in and tell me about it, or have you got to get back to work?”
“Just finished me shift, actually, so I’ve got time.” He loosens the strap around his chin of his Halcyon branded cap, removing it as if to signify the fact. His dark blonde hair is slicked back against his head, neatly parted to the side.
“Great, come on in then.”
Billy trails behind her, his hat held gingerly in both hands as he glances around the room.
“Make yourself at home, Billy.” She gestures towards the bed and he perches on the edge of it, while she takes the armchair opposite. She has never seen anyone look less relaxed and has to stifle a laugh at how rigid his posture is.
“So, about your posting–”
“Yeah!” He suddenly becomes animated again, leaning forward and gesticulating each of his words, “Came in the post this mornin’, tried to find ya, but you were out. I’ve been put on the anti aircraft guns! Can you believe it? I’ll be shooting German planes outta the sky!”
She watches him intently as he speaks, the curve of his lips, the brightness of his eyes. He exudes confidence when he’s passionate, not a trace of shyness to be found and it’s incredibly attractive.
“That’s very brave of you,” she says, “I expect your sweetheart will be worried for you though.”
“Oh,” he furrows his brow, his gaze downcast, “no, there’s no one…no sweetheart.”
“That’s a shame,” she drawls, her smugness at the fact barely concealed. “Tell me, Billy, are you a virgin?”
He widens his eyes, mouth opening and closing as he flushes pink from the base of his neck, all the way to the tips of his ears. “N-no…I’ve had it off with loadsa girls…”
“Billy…” she chastises in a stern tone of voice.
He sighs, turning his hat over in his hands, shoulders slumping. “Yeah, I’m a virgin.”
She moves to sit beside him on the bed, her hand caressing his shoulder. “Nothing wrong with that,” she reassures him, “but perhaps you’d like not to be? Can’t send you off to war, never having known the touch of a woman.”
He audibly gulps, staring at her in disbelief, so she takes the initiative, leaning forward and pressing her lips to his.
He freezes at first, she can feel him trembling all over, but he softens as she’s about the pull away and reciprocates, his hat slipping from his hands and landing on the carpet with a soft thud. His mouth moves clumsily against her own, over eager and inexperienced, yet there is something endearing about it. She longs to show Billy the tenderness he deserves.
“I–I don’t know what I’m doing,” he whispers nervously against her lips once they part for air.
“It’s okay,” she soothes him, caressing his cheek, “just lay back. Let me take care of you.”
He nods, moving back against the bedspread.
She takes her time stripping him of his bellboy uniform. Billy is undeniably skinny, but his long, lean limbs are corded with wiry muscle, his chest and shoulders well defined and broad as they’re revealed to her as she sheds his jacket, shirt and vest.
His chest rises and falls rapidly with anxious, shallow breaths, his eyes glued to her as she removes her own clothing. His lips part as she bares herself before him, trembling hands reaching out tentatively to trace over her naked flesh.
Her eyes widen with shock and admiration and she removes his briefs. She had not been expecting Billy to be quite so well endowed; his erection is thick and reaches almost to his navel, the ruddy tip glistening with arousal.
Billy hisses through his teeth, brow furrowing as she takes him in hand to roll a sheath over the length of him. She can tell from the way he twitches against her palm that he won’t last long.
“You okay?” She whispers as she moves to straddle him.
His expression is almost pained, only able to nod as he looks up at her with desperation in his eyes.
She sinks slowly down onto him, her jaw going slack at the stretch, hearing Billy groan beneath her.
“Oh…oh god…” he grits out, as her hips sink fully against his.
Trailing her fingertips over his bare chest, while giving herself a moment to adjust, she soothes him with a soft kiss.
He hums into it, his hips bucking slightly upwards and she pulls back with a grin, rolling her hips against his, delighting in the way his thickness drags against her sensitive walls.
He gasps softly, head thrown back against the pillows, a few strands of hair coming loose from his carefully waxed style.
“You’re beautiful,” he mutters.
His grip on her hips is vicelike as she rocks against him, she feels impossibly full and yet already anticipates this being an unsatisfying ending for her - she can feel him throbbing inside of her, as he pants hard beneath her.
Her backside slaps softly against his thighs once, twice, three times, and all too soon his eyes are screwing shut as he cries out in ecstasy, twitching as he spills into the condom.
She stills, gazing down at him as he opens his eyes, skin flushed as he gasps for air. He looks like a work of art, no shame or fear of making a fool of himself guiding his behaviour, just utterly lost in the moment.
“Sh-shit…sorry…” he whispers, as she climbs off of him. He pulls off the rubber and discards it in the bedside waste paper bin. “That was really quick.”
She smiles, guiding him back to her side and laying back. “It was your first time, that was going to happen. You’ll last longer next time.”
He grins down at her. “Next time?”
“If you want to, that is.”
“Course I do!”
He kisses her with more confidence, his hands snaking a trail down her body, squeezing greedily at her curves. After a few minutes of their languid kisses and caresses, she can feel him stirring to life against her thigh again.
“Could I be on top this time?” He whispers into her ear, settling between her legs, once he’s found another sheath.
She nods, sighing in pleasure as she feels him slip back inside of her. The change in angle and sensation of his weight on top of her heightens the feeling as each of his gentle strokes brushes deep within her.
While it feels good, it’s not quite enough to get her there, and as she feels his thrusts becoming less controlled, she knows she needs to help him to help her.
“Give me your hand,” she says huskily, taking it and guiding it between their bodies. 
She presses his fingers to her pearl, guiding them to stroke her in quick, tight circles. “Just like that,” she tells him.
He’s quick to learn, stroking her in tandem with each snap of his hips. He groans low into the crook of her neck, stilling as he spends himself a second time, but the movement of his fingers never relents. The combination of his ministrations against her bud and him pulsating within her drive her over the edge, and she climaxes with a moan, clenching around Billy, causing his breath to catch in his throat.
He rolls off of her after a moment, throwing his arm behind his head and pulling her to his chest. “Could get used to this,” he murmurs with a lazy smirk.
“Won’t you get the sack?” She asks jokingly.
“Nah, leaving anyway, aren’t I?”
“Right you are,” she smiles, snuggling against him.
“You up for another send off then? I could die, y’know.”
“That’s manipulative, Billy!” She giggles, swatting his chest.
“Is it working though?”
“Yeah, yeah, it is…” she says quietly, feeling his fingertips dig into the soft flesh of her thigh.
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schnitzelsemmerl · 8 months ago
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(this post is best viewed in light mode!!)
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My intro post!! 🌈🌈
hallihallo! :3 my name's Cher (Cherilyn if you feel silly) 🍒 or Andrey and you can call me whatever (nicknames, etc. I LOVE NICKNAMES 💗). im 🇦🇹🇧🇦 btw. and can you tell i like schnitzelsemmerl (ohne salat 🥬 ist ein schnitzelsemmerl kein gutes schnitzelsemmerl btw ‼️😒😒 /lh)
fun 🎊 fact: Cherilyn is hella 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 </3
"say "hiya", ezra lamb!" "hiya, ezra lamb"
🥬🥬🥬🥬🥬🥬🥬🥬🥬🥬🥬🥬🥬🥬🥬🥬🥬🥬🥬🥬
I'M ✨️⚠️A MINOR⚠️✨️ and i use any pronouns but if you call me a boy i will kiss you on the fucking mouth :3 my gender is weird but so am i
🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊
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this pretty much is a blog about musicals and my interests, but i'm mostly being 🎊silly🎊 and a sigma 🤩😼 with the mutuals™️ on here for now (this post may appear organized (why am i lying it doesnt), but in reality i am a trainwreck :3 ) i'm very online, so yea. talk to me please :33
💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗
fandom list: musicals (hamilton, rtc, SIX THE MUSICAL MY BELOVED <33 , etc.); hetalia <3; history, especially tudor dynasty and amrev/french revolution (idk if that counts as fandom); лолофд (this is a russian minecraft my friend and online father figure @frownce showed me don't go there it's deadly); the hellaverse/HH/HB, titanic (1997)
list of silly characters i like (idea totally not stolen): peggy schuyler, misha bachinskyi, france/francis bonnefoy, hera (i know she only appears for 20 seconds in one song AJFJFJFJGJF), niffty, moxxie and millie, jane grey, boleyn, towelie (bro he's funny 😭😭), heather mcnamara, karen smith, buffy gilmore and cindy campbell, etc etc
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🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈
the online family <3
my ao3!!
trust me on this and click :3 (it's ✨️fanart✨️)
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Under the cut are just random things :3 🍭🍭
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apparently, i am:
THE mother <3™️
George Washington Insanity™️
Peggy Schuyler's husband :3
alpha & sigma male
an honorary 'murican 🇺🇲
president (2024 - forever and ever and ever)
local schnitzelsemmerl but i am not local
Bernd das Brot (real)
Akkordeonspieler /j i don't actually play the squeeze keys 🤭‼️
mentally unstable bbg
emmy's annoying younger gen alpha brother
💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸💸
taken anons that are taken: 👻🏳️‍⚧️ !!
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previous usernames: @iiamly0
@cher-takes-the-l
@spac3agebachelorman
@andreyyayy
so if you know any of those users but cant find the blog anymore, hihihi ! hello !!!! that's me!! hiiiii :3
💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫
a carrd i spent wayyyyy too much time making
🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊🎊
have a nice day!! :D (this is a threat)
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PEGGY JUMPSCARE <3
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