#and folds of clothing? ((that... i genuinely have no answer to. all my clothes tend to be slapped on with random folds- nvm i remember now))

[reblog-house]

Me: Man! How am I suddenly good with [art skill] overnight and with no practice whatsoever?

The many failed and successful drawings I've made the past few months unintentionally practicing those skills I'm now praising: Hey.

Me: It must be divine intervention.

[21burritoseavey]

for corbyn based on hard!

hello! hope you enjoy this I’m so sorry it took so long. Let me know what you think:)

here’s a link to my masterlist for my other stories:)

a/n: oop i kinda lied about when i was gonna post...but i actually like this a lot so read it...or else....jkjk. 

Summary: When Y/n knocks on Corbyn’s door, he lets her stay the night without an explanation.

Hard (c.b.)

Corbyn jerked his head up at the sound of a faint knock on the front door. His hoodie was draped cosily over his head and his tired eyes were now focused on the wall opposite him. The printed frames of the band’s accomplishments stood out brightly in the beams of a streetlamp’s light that poured through the window. Corbyn stayed on the sofa, resting back against the cushions, and letting the dim T.V. screen grasp his attention again as he thought his mind was just playing tricks on him. On a measly, sluggish Wednesday night, who would even have the energy to show up at his place right now? Eben and Jonah went to bed just before midnight settled around them, painting the sky with deep jet black and shooting daggers of heavy raindrops from above along with loud thunder. They’d left only Corbyn awake to suffer through a painfully boring movie alone. It was something he did often just to soothe himself to sleep. 

Sleep was always a struggle for Corbyn. Despite myriad attempts to figure out why, nothing ever seemed to shut his eyes. More often than not, he’d find himself on the living room sofa in the morning, and tonight was merely one of many nights where he’d hope to fall asleep with a T.V. show or movie mumbling in the background under the eeriness and coldness of the house. 

Another knock came dancing along the quiet atmosphere. Corbyn glanced at the door again before his gaze flickered back to the T.V. 12:46am was shown at the corner of the screen. Deciding that whoever it was standing behind that door must’ve had a good reason to be, he tiredly lifted himself up with a quiet groan. Y/n’s voice seeped into the house, gradually increasing in volume as he walked towards the door. It was weak and raspy - nothing like the usual softness Y/n’s voice had. 

“Y/n,” Corbyn breathed, feeling the hood of his sweatshirt fall backwards as a cold gust of wind swept over him. Y/n shyly stood before him. Her hair dangled in two braids, although it was damp and dishevelled at the top and her mascara stained her cheeks in streaks like it’d been painted on her face. Corbyn’s lips turned downwards into a genuine frown at the sight of her, not only visibly sad but shivering from the rain and cold that reddened her cheeks and soaked her clothes. His gaze stopped at her chapped lips when he heard her whisper. But the heavy downpour of rain engulfed Y/n’s sorrowful murmurs, barely allowing her words to be heard over the pitter patter of raindrops hitting the ground, so he just let her in with a gentle tug of her wrist.  

“Hi,” Y/n tried again once the place quietened, looking up at him. The faint sloshing of her shoes had them both dropping their gazes to the floor, roaming from Y/n’s boots to the small gap at the bottom of the door. A narrow trail of mud had followed her in from the welcome mat. “Sorry,” She exhaled again, giving him an apologetic smile. 

“No, that’s okay,” Corbyn assured her. He gave her time to take off her shoes before changing the subject. “It’s nearly 1am.” He chuckled humourlessly. “what’re you doing here?” Taking a seat on the edge of the couch, he waited for her response. But when the eerie silence emerged again, he started thinking out loud with his own guesses. “Were you locked out of the house? Did you get in trouble?” He stopped for a second, catching his thoughts before they could travel to him. The one guy he really didn’t want to be the cause of his best friend’s sadness, or the reason she risked her own safety just to come over here. A ripple of hailstones came clattering against the rooftop and the loud sounds sent Corbyn out of his mind and back into the present. 

“I didn’t have anywhere else to go,” Y/n mumbled, gazing towards him with an almost scared expression in slight fear that he wouldn’t let her stay. But that wasn’t the case at all. In fact, Corbyn loved when she stayed over, and when he noticed the small uneasiness in her expression, he assured her she was fine to stay with a gentle smile, regardless of the heart wrenching swirl of emotion inside him. 

“Okay.” He said quietly, “you can sleep here tonight.”  

“M’kay,” Y/n bit back her smile of relief and merely watched him hop off the couch and head towards her. He’d set his hands in hers but flinched back at the temperature of her soft skin. 

“They’re so cold,” He chuckled softly, resting his crinkled eyes on hers. Y/n gave a half smile back when she felt his warm breath on her skin, her hands now clutched together with his and raised up to his mouth in an attempt to warm them up. Soon, without any control, Y/n’s dimpled cheeks turned scarlet at the sight of him placing a tender line of kisses on her fingertips. He dropped both their hands after a moment and felt himself heat up from just seconds before. Did he really just do that?

“I’ll get you some dry clothes,” He stuttered, starting for the hallway to his bedroom, but turned back to meet her eyes again. “Wait, actually I’ll get you a towel,” Y/n nodded. The patter of his footsteps up the stairwell faded into the atmosphere, just like the weather that had managed to calm from a ravaging storm to an ambient patter of raindrops. 

As her clothes were extremely wet and her presence not quite welcome in her eyes, she remained standing in open space of living room. Her damp stocking feet missed the rug and only walked around on the wood floor while Corbyn was busy. 

“Here, I got you both just in case.” Y/n looked over her shoulder to see him slightly panting with some folded clothes in his hand. 

“Thank you Corbyn.” She smiled.

“And you can use my bathroom.” He said lightly, watching her brush past him and up the stairs. He followed behind her after a minute to go into his room. Y/n shut the door as soon as she got into his bathroom. She sauntered slowly to the mirror, and with the belief that she had complete privacy - although Corbyn was in his bedroom - she got changed into Corbyn’s sweatpants and hoodie.  

Corbyn was by the bed, stripping his used sheets and replacing them with fresh clean ones for Y/n, when he heard her crying. A sudden pit weighed him down to sit on the edge of the bed, white sheets clutched lazily between his fingers and face now dulled into a mixture of all sorts of emotions. Something must’ve happened with this stupid idiotic boyfriend of hers. He pushed himself to hide his thoughts away though. Y/n couldn’t know that he heard her, so he forced himself up again to finish changing the sheets. 

The click of the doorknob unlocking made Corbyn look up again. Y/n pulled a grin towards him as she walked in closer, clothed in a dry comfy outfit and face free of smudged makeup. With a small glance to the now made bed, he said “you should get some sleep.” 

“Yeah,” 

“Okay,” He sighed, picking up his phone from the bed. “I can sleep downstairs and you can sleep here.” He looked at her with a ghost of a smile playing at his lips, though it seemed practically non-existent in the subdued warm lighting of bedroom. His eyes dropped down to the sleeves of his sweatshirt. The edges were now darkened, not with raindrops, but with her salty tears he heard fall when she was in the bathroom. 

“No, I can sleep downstairs,” Y/n stopped him. Her face was blotchy with red spots from crying. “This is your room.” 

“I insist Y/n, and don’t worry I changed the sheets.” He smiled, gulping down the sad feeling creeping up his throat again. “Now come on,” He ushered her over with a wave of his hand. Y/n made her way across his room to his bedside. Corbyn started peeling back the comforter for her to slip inside but he paused when he’d noticed her hair. Her usually luxuriously soft locks were still messily braided in a pair down her back. “Do you want me to take them out?” He asked. 

Y/n glanced at him, frozen mid movement as she thought about an answer. “Yes please.” She nodded. Corbyn smiled and shuffled her further on the mattress so they sat on the centre of the bed together - Y/n cross-legged in front of Corbyn who was tending to her hair. Neither of them spoke as he unravelled her braids. 

“Okay,” He gave her back a loving pat. “All done.” He smiled as Y/n looked over her shoulder. 

“Thanks,” she said. Corbyn had hopped off the bed and Y/n shifted under the covers. The fresh comforter was a brilliant white against her pinkish skin and her hair spread like feathers across the pillow under her head. Corbyn’s eyes lingered on hers, finally softening with the relief that she was safe with him. 

“Goodnight.” Y/n’s eyes sparkled under the pleasant warm light of his bedside lamp. Corbyn’s smile that had played at his lips faltered for a second. Then he bent down and placed a soft kiss to her forehead. His delicate lips met her soft supple skin for only a fleeting moment before his lips detached again, pursed and coloured a soft red. 

“Goodnight, Y/n. I love you.” He mumbled, placing another lingering kiss to her nose. A quiet flutter of giggles spilled from her lips, and she scrunched her nose at the ticklish feeling. 

“Love you too.” She replied, glancing back at the boy close to her.  

taglist: @chilling-seavey @marthagryffindor @randomlimelightxxx @hiya-its-amber @the-girl-who-cried-wolf​ @hackerXavery @jonahlovescoffee @onlyangelavery @sadbitchfangirl

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[imo-chan-imagines]

『 As your boyfriend | BNHA Headcanons 』

From the good, to the bad, to the downright adorable.

Characters: female!reader, Aizawa Shouta

Tags/warnings: Boku No Hero Academia (anime), 18+, explicit descriptions of sex, smut, fluff, soft dom Aizawa, relationship, headcanons

⚠️ 18+ CONTENT! MINORS: PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT ⚠️

A/N: Right, so I'm simping for this man biG TIME, but I'm only on season 3, so no spoilers or anything, please. This is my first BNHA post (and it turned out way longer than I was intending 😅) Please let me know if you want more in the future!

Also, I have a repetitive strain injury, so typing stuff is taking a while at the moment. Sorry about that. Thanks for reading! Please enjoy ♡ ~Imo

☆ Aizawa Shouta ☆

I'm not going to lie. Shouta can be a big ol' grouchy pants sometimes, and it's basically impossible to win an argument against him makes you want to tear your hair out, sometimes

But most of the time, he's just tired and in pain, and he doesn't mean to be so crotchety

He's not the type to make excuses, though. That's childish. He means his apologies, even if they're simple

He'll normally initiate an apology by gently wrapping his arms around you from behind and resting his forehead on your shoulder 🥺

Physical contact is incredibly personal and intimate for him. He doesn't just touch anyone, or allow them to touch him

You're special 💞💫

Soft, gentle touches, like his fingers interlacing with yours, or his leg brushing up against you, are basically his way of saying 'I love you'

Catch me crying in the corner, a'ight? 😔

He rarely ever raises his voice. Like, ever he doesn't need to, and is aware that it can be scary

He's definitely the kind of guy to forget to tell people that you're dating, simply because he doesn't see how it's relevant or anyone else's business 🤦‍♀️

I mean, he ain't wrong, but–

And his mood switches between 'antisocial' and 'clingy' like a mechanical metronome did someone say 'cat'?

Sometimes, you'll be lucky if he speaks more than three words to you together in a whole day nothing personal 🤷‍♀️

But on other days, he literally won't let you out of his arms for the world he's complicated, okay?

You have missed many a parcel delivery because he wouldn't let you get up from his lap to answer the door 🙄😂

Boundaries and responsibilities are key and highly respected by Shouta, and he would NEVER erase your quirk without your permission, unless he literally had no other choice like someone's going to get hurt, or something

Is generally quite serious so what's new? but you're one of the few people he can relax around when he feels like it

9/10 of his jokes are dad jokes 😎 hell yeah

Takes a hard stance in financial debates, but is constantly broke af 😶 says he'll buy you dinner and presents you with some instant noodles with a 'Reduced To Clear' sticker on them

Will take a bite of your food/steal some off your plate without asking, and literally say nothing to defend himself #gremlin

Is incredibly shy and uncomfortable about being ~le horny~ until you've been together for literally forever

Even then, he's still shy about it when he has to bring it up and it's pretty cute, let me tell ya

It took him forever to admit to you that he gets turned on when you eat ice lollies

Guess what you do whenever you want to mess with him like a little brat 😛

But if he's in the mood, he will 100% whisper something dirty in your ear, even if you're completely alone and probably well past third base

He does it because he knows your pussy will clamp around him at the sound of his voice 😳🥵

*fans self profusely*

Genuine, unadulterated smiles are rare with Aizawa, but when he does 🙌 Heaven hath opened its gates and allowed an angel walk amongst mere mortals 🥺🤧

If he lays his head on your chest, he will fall asleep like that *snaps fingers*

Surprise nose and forehead kisses to show he loves you ❤

Calls you 'Kitten' this is basically already canon at this point

And he's all about those deep talks with you at 3 am when he can't sleep

Speaking of insomnia!

It's cheesy, but you're like a soothing balm. The warmth of your body makes him feel safe, your touch helps him relax, and your voice soothes him to sleep

He's never slept as well as when you're beside him 😭🤧

When cuddling, he likes to be the big spoon but will accept being the little spoon if you if you press your boobs against his back and ask really nicely 🤭

And he loves you stroking his hair and running your fingers through it 🥺

Netlix nights and pillow/blanket forts!!

Rainy days are a godsend. Staying inside all day under the blankets, with the soft sound of the rain falling outside and no-one to interrupt you – literal paradise

He makes mean hot cocoas and Irish coffees 😋 I feel like this man lives off Irish coffees 😂🤣

Wears a lot of black and grey sweatpants at home 😗 which highlight the outline of his dick just right, if ya know what I'm sayin' 👀

Doesn't like going out for dates and prefers staying inside and doing stuff together same, honeyy

But if you really like going out, he will somewhat begrudgingly agree to it and get all dressed up for you, just so long as he gets his fair share of home-dates, too 🤗

But if you also don't like going out... the two of you will basically never leave the house, except to get groceries in your pyjamas from the 24-hour convenience store down the road at one in the morning oddly specific, I know, but you get me

And sorry, but I don't make the rules

Well, actually, I do. But shush

We all know that Shouta cleans up *chef's kiss* So when you go somewhere ~fancy~ he always looks so damn fine 😩

But he has very little idea that he's hot he sees himself as a tired, walking dumpster fire🚶‍♂️🔥

Shouta will 100% turn into a crazy cat dude with 15+ cats if you don't stop him I never said you should, though 🙃

And is a 'minimalist texter' – basically, if he can't answer a text with 'yes', 'no,' 'maybe', or 'OK', then he probably won't answer it at all 😭😂

Especially if you try and sext him or send him your nudes while he's at work. He'll probably lecture you when he gets home and depending on just how much you turned him on, he might proceed to teach you a lesson...

But wear his shirt, and just his shirt or his hoodie and he's yours

Heart eyes, motherfucker 😍

And, depending on how you two are feeling that day, you may or may not end up getting dicked down on the nearest semi-flat surface right then and there 👀

But don't misunderstand. This is an incredibly tired man you have here, and his libido actually isn't through the roof sorry, ladies so this kind of thing isn't an everyday occurrence

But when he dicks you down, he dicks you down goooood

Shouta's not big on PDA, but makes up for it in private. We're talking hands and kisses all over your body he leaves nothing unloved 😏

And while he's not big on PDA, he is big on sneaky displays of affection or 'SDA', as I like to call it

Like subtly grabbing your butt for a second, or his hand on your thigh under the table at a dinner etc. especially around other people

But what really gets him going is slowly removing your clothes and taking you fully naked, spreading your legs wide and holding them open he likes the view 😍

He lowkey highkey worships your body 🙏 and will literally not shut up about how fucking pretty you are, and how fucking good it feels inside you his words, not mine 😳

Groans and growls a little when he's getting close/cumming especially when he's being a little rough and likes to cum together, but knows it's not always practical

He tends to be a gentle dom, but can get just a teensy bit 🤏 rough if he's too into it – but nothing outrageous

We're talking rough thrusts and a brutal pace, maybe holding onto you a little too hard and, waaahh, he gets so embarrassed if he leaves bruises

Is also into a little bondage, but again, only light stuff – restraining your wrists with his hands or his tie or his Capturing Weapon 👀 maybe blinding-folding you if you're okay with it

If you're not blindfolded, then I'm afraid he's all about that eye contact

Eating out your pussy? Eye contact. Pounding you into the mattress? Blazing eye contact. Rearranging your guts in front of the mirror? Fucking eye contact

And CONSENT, BABY. THAT'S WHAT HE'S FUCKING INTO 😌🙌💞

But all jokes aside – he's too used to taking without consent with his quirk, that he's kind of paranoid about it comes to sex but it's adorable and sweet, and honestly, still kind of hot

And speaking of eating pussy – goddamn does he like to please you. Like cream to a kitty 😛

Oh, and he just loves it when you suck on his fingers as he's pounding into you 🤤

And he likes to leave love bites in personal, inconspicuous places and sometimes on your neck

He's marking his woman 😌

When he gets suuuper horny, he likes to fuck you from behind, standing upright in front of the mirror. It's a specific kink he has of watching himself stretch you out as the length of his cock disappears inside you...

I can get behind that, lemme tell yaaa

I said he tends to be dominant, but female doms – fear not!

Shouta is quite flexible when it comes down to it and is kind of lazy, lmfao so he definitely has time for laying back, having the control taken away, and having his dick ridden

For him, it's really all about communication and what you're both comfortable with

I will say this, though: sometimes, his cat watches you while you're banging 😅😂

The first time it happened, you freaked out and refused to continue because – how could you??? But eventually, you just kind of got used to it 🤷‍♀️

The same way you've got used to it following you to the bathroom every time you go to take a shit 😭

So now, you just kind of laugh about it, which helps keep things a little lighter 🤗

After sex, he does like to snuggle, but you'll be lucky if he stays awake for more than 30 seconds it's one of the few times he actually can sleep well

If you're ever out and about, or even inside, and cold, he'll wrap you up in his clothes/scarf/blanket like a sushi roll like Eren wrapping up Mikasa in his scarf, all deadpan and everything 😐

It's not that often, but when he gets drunk, he gets all soft and emotional, and starts babbling about how he can't believe he got so lucky to be dating you, and that he's sure he hasn't done anything to deserve it mah heart

He's pretty sure he wants kids, but he doesn't feel like now is the right time, and is lowkey afraid that it's never going to feel like the right time

He also constantly doubts himself, wondering if he'd actually able to look after them and protect them the way a father should class 1-A got him second-guessing himself 🥺

Besides, it's not all about him. You clearly have a say in it too, and he doesn't want to force you into anything

Again: communication and comfort zones

Dating Aizawa definitely has its ups and downs, and it's not smooth sailing, but he's prepared to work for a life with you because he's found a connection with you that he hasn't feel with anyone else

He knows that you're both far from perfect, but hopes that, for once, you might just make something good, and make it last 🥰😇

© imo-chan-imagines 2020

[citydreamgrls]

a simple favour - part two

fred weasley x fem!reader

summary: it was all in her best interests, fred never meant to catch feelings for her. it had started as a simple favour.

words: 4,785

warnings: swearing , tw: stalking / stalker , smut in later parts (18+)

find part three here

“You did WHAT!” Ron was the first to respond to Fred’s confession. The rest weren’t far behind. Harry burst into a fit of nervous giggles, unable to truly contemplate it all George just switched up his facial expressions from confused to shocked to horrified over and over again. Hermione’s reaction was similar to Ron’s, as she threw herself into a flurry of telling Fred how mental he was, and asking him questions without waiting for answers.

All the while I sat in disbelief, unsure if I’d heard him correctly. I held my head upright, just a blank expression stuck on my face as I watched the wall, hoping that something would come to mind.

“YOU’RE FUCKING MENTAL FRED!’

“HAS SHE NOT GONE THROUGH ENOUGH?”

“GOD SHE’S ONE OF MY BEST FRIENDS, THIS IS DISGUSTING.”

“Poor girl, you should be ashamed Fred.”

“And to think I ever looked up to you.”Ron huffed, setting Hermione off again.

“IS THIS YOUR IDEA OF A SICK JOKE?” She screeched, stopping everyone in their spiralling tracks, even making me look over to see what the twin would say.

“It- it just slipped out okay, but wait-” He stopped his brother from ripping his head off, “I think it might have done something.”

“Does he believe you?” I asked into the following silence, making him look at me with more of an apology than he had ever spoken aloud. “I can’t say for sure.. But he was definitely bothered by it.”

“And what if this is all he needs to get back at her, just a reason to hurt y/n?” Hermione asked.

Fred’s face dropped and he sighed with genuine regret, if what he was saying was true then it could go either way. Mclaggen could either get bored of seeing me with someone else and move on, or he could come after fuelled with jealousy.

“I’m sorry,” He finally spoke, looking over to me and keeping his eyes on mine as he carried on,“I know it isn’t ideal, but it could at least mean he isn’t as interested.”

“There isn’t much else we can do, is there?” My best friend replied, tying her hair up and sitting down in defeat.

“I suppose we better make him believe then.” I nodded, the words feeling heavy and wrong as they came from my throat. Nothing felt right about this, I felt bad for Fred having to lie for me and act as if he loved me just because some guy was being a creep.

Fred smiled weakly, he must have sensed my nerves. Or maybe I just wasn’t as good at hiding what I felt as I’d always presumed I was. Either way, he knew something about where my head was at. He was also right. This situation wasn’t ideal, but equally it was the only idea any of us had come up with that seemed to actually work in some way. Fred wasn’t malicious, he would only ever do this to help.

Now we just needed to pull it off properly.

-

None of us talked over it for long, no one really wanted to go into much detail of how soppy Fred and I needed to act around one another. No one less than Ron, who had a permanent scowl aimed at his brother as we discussed the plan. It all came down to what people outside of mine and Hermione’s room thought. It wasn’t just Cormac who we would be lying to, but everyone else in the school. If just one person caught wind that this was a set up, then it would be a wasted effort and I’d be stuck with a stalker for the rest of my time at Hogwarts.

“What about Ginny?” Harry asked, “Do we tell her?”

“She needs to believe it like everyone else,” Fred said. “If she thinks we’re together, then she’ll tell mum and dad straight away. Saves them hearing from anyone else, that would be more suspicious.”

“We can still tell her the truth,” Ron was still angry, finding every reason to disagree with people. “Even if she knows she can tell mum and dad.”

“She’s still young Ron, we can’t trust that she won’t let slip.” He argued back.

“She’s family you git, it isn’t fair to lie to her too!”

“Fred’s right.” Hermione put a hand on Ron’s, all of us nodding in agreement. “All of this stays between us, that’s all. We can trust one another, and that’s it. No one else.”

Ron reluctantly gave in, not quite agreeing, but nevertheless refraining from arguing the point any further. It all seemed quite futile to him, and something deep down made him wonder what his brother was up to. George coaxed everyone out, leaving Hermione and I to talk things over once again.

“One of us can watch the tower from the common room, that way he can’t get to you.” He explained once the boys were going down the stairs. I thanked him as he smiled and left, always the one to keep smiling despite the circumstances.

My best friend hugged me once again, refusing to let go as we tried to chat about anything other than Fred, which lasted about 2 minutes.

“What was he thinking?” She scoffed and I shrugged.

“It’s our only chance Mione,”

“And if it doesn’t work?”

“Then I’ll kill him.” My face was blank, probably pale and sickly. I felt sickly so it seemed right that I look the part.

“Who? Fred or Mclaggen?”

“Both,” I laughed, the tiniest glimmer of happiness stabbing its way through the dark. My friend’s wrapped round me more, unwilling to let go until she absolutely had to, her hands squeezed my sides comfortably. “Thank you, for stopping Mclaggen last night… and for looking after me so much.”

“I know you would do the same,” She smiled, stroking my hair with one hand.

“Were you scared too?” I asked, breathing deeply as I tried to repress that feeling I’d had seeing him standing in the middle of the room only a few steps away from my bed.

“A little bit,”

“You’re braver than me… what do you think he would hav-”

“Don’t think about it y/n, it’s over. Just focus on you and Fred.”

I sat up, her arms slipping away as I did so. She mimicked me, crossing her legs as I did mine and watched my mind whir as I thought about Fred over and over.

“There must have been other things he could’ve said.” I sighed, Hermione nodding.

“Probably..”

“Hell, he could’ve beaten him to the ground.” “So why didn’t he?” The girl asked, no answer coming to my mind but plenty inside hers. “I just think there’s a reason he lied to Mclaggen.”

“He said it slipped out,”

“Oh I believe that, but it’s what that means that’s confusing me.” She admitted, I frowned at her, not quite following.

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” She sat up onto her knees, looking me right in the eyes to make sure I understood what she was thinking. “For Fred, the guy who couldn't care less about girls, to suddenly pretend he has a girlfriend seems strange. But when he said it just slipped out to Cormac, I think he was thinking of you more than himself.”

She was right about Fred not being bothered with girls, he’d seen George mess around with enough of them that the aspect of a relationship probably seemed useless to him.

“Yeah I understand that, he was confronting him about me.”

“But… he could’ve said anything else. Why did Fred, think about you and his head immediately go to girlfriend?” She leant back now, satisfied with her theory. I hummed.

“Maybe you’re over-analysing it a bit?” Hermione did tend to after all.

“I have a gut feeling about this one.”

-

Harry came to check on me halfway through the day, telling us that Ron had been sulking all day despite Fred's attempts to apologise. Hermione went to spend some time in the library as I continued to hide away in our dorm, refusing to come out until dinner. Tomorrow would be a different day, I’d have classes all over again but luckily none with Mclaggen because he was in the year above. However, it meant I’d be matched with people asking questions, whether they knew about the night’s events or not. I now had a fake relationship to speak for, not to mention I needed to be somewhat happy about it too in order for things to go smoothly.

“Hi.” Fred said quietly, making Harry look up from his magazine. He got the idea and left us to it, shutting the door behind him.

“I’ll see you at dinner y/n.” He smiled sweetly, each step echoing down the stairs. The twin shuffled over to sit on Hermione’s bed to face me.

“How are you feeling?” He asked me, avoiding my empty eyes.

“Fine,” I smiled weakly, doing my best to lie. I didn’t want him to think I was nervous.

“I cannot apologise enough,” He started, hands moving slightly as if he wanted to reach out for mine. But they went back to his lap, fingers tightly crossed over one another, I watched him clench them until his knuckles went white.

I felt like a toddler that needed watching all the time, like he wasn’t sure what to do with me or how to talk.

“Fred don’t, just- it’s fine.” I stood up and walked across the room, desperately trying to find something to busy myself with. I folded some clean clothes, his eyes on my shaky form.

“You’re nervous?” He tried again, his voice scratching the air. I nodded, not daring to turn around and face him. I felt pathetic alone in his presence, vulnerable to his gaze as I clutched a jumper Ron had given me one Christmas between my fingers.

My thoughts were scrambled but they refused to come out to Fred. So we were alone in the silence.

“Everyone’s angry, aren’t they?” I said, at first to himself, but when I peered over he was waiting for me to tell him otherwise.

“I am grateful Fred,I know you were just looking out for me.” He smiled, having been given the reassurance he’d wanted.

“We all are.”

I swallowed once, feeling the spit slide down my throat with a disgusting taste. He meant that as a humbling comment, to show that everyone else cared as much as he did, but why was I disappointed. Had I really been holding out hope that he wanted this?

“Do you need any time before we go?” I nodded, suddenly realising how much of a state I must have been in from the night before.

“I should probably shower,” The words came out meekly, like I was too scared to speak any louder.

“Okay, you can use our bathroom.”

Hermione and I didn’t have a bathroom big enough for a shower in our dorm, subjected to walking halfway across the castle each morning before breakfast. Yet Fred and George had been lucky enough to bag a room with a bigger bathroom, giving them an annoyingly better deal than us.

He checked that the common room was empty before letting me walk through it to get to his dorm. I had never been inside, the twins rarely using their room for anything besides sleeping and washing. They did share it with another boy, Lee Jordan, but as Fred explained he was never really around either.

I showered quickly, enough time to enjoy the privacy of the warm water as I shivered beneath it. Fred was waiting outside, that I could tell from his light footsteps as he paced the room.

“Ready?” The boy stopped walking when I came out, fresh clothes on and my others in a small bundle in my arms. “I’ll put those in with my laundry if you want?” I smiled and dumped it in his little washing basket, taking a deep breath.

He gave me a sudden hug, making me jump slightly. Fred wasn’t one for complex emotions, generally sticking to the safety net that was happiness and anger. I certainly hadn’t seen him hug a single person before without being coerced. Maybe he saw me as such a basket case, that he didn't even know how to react.

“I’m fine Fred.” I laughed awkwardly, patting his back and letting him pull away. For a second I thought he hadn’t heard me, because he didn’t move away, but then he coughed himself back to normal and turned to leave. Me following behind, more confused than ever.

-

The noise of voices in the great hall boomed louder than ever before, even from down the hall. Fred had started holding my hand the second we’d left the common room, chatting casually to me as we walked through the castle, people giving us looks as we passed them. I too wouldn’t have understood his change in demeanor, he had never been overly affectionate to anyone. Yet here he was, acting as if I was the only person in this whole school. We didn’t stop to discuss anything, or reassure one another, before walking into the hall. I feared that if we had done so, then that slight slither of courage I had would’ve melted away quicker than wax.

Fred’s smile was so natural as I peered up to him, already looking over at George on the Gryffindor table. They were all at our usual spot, watching expectantly as I did my best to ignore the many turned heads and hushed murmurs of surprise. My eyes were fixated on Hermione, who seemed to express a great deal of pride. I hadn’t even noticed that we’d passed Mclaggen’s end of the table, Fred’s body blocking that side so I never even saw him.

When we sat down, I shuddered at the feeling of Fred’s arm around me, which I hope he hadn’t noticed. It was strange, having someone’s hands on me at all times, even worse when it was Fred's. I’d seen the boy fidget before, it was a normal occurrence, but to be the one on the receiving end of his restless fingers playing in my hand was weird.

It was as if he wasn’t necessarily paying attention to me, but yet he was letting me know I was still on his mind. All without a single word spoken. It was nice just to see a different side to the boy, but I needed to remember that all of this wasn’t real. None of these feelings were true to Fred.

Ron ate his food in silence, refraining from looking over at either me or his brother. I ate slowly, mostly speaking to Hermione and Harry and avoiding eye contact with anyone else in the hall, especially him. George and Fred were keeping themselves entertained, which made things much easier for me as I realised that I had no clue how to chat normally with Fred. A fact that became evident as we walked hand in hand through the halls.

Some people congratulated Fred as he took me to potions class, most just whispered about us as if they were invisible. I stayed quiet, the attention mostly on him thank god.

“You didn’t have to bring me,” I smiled as we stopped outside the classroom door “I’m sure people would still believe you.” I whispered.

“Y/n.” He frowned, like I was a naughty child.

“Sorry.” I became very aware of him flipping out. Not even one whole day, and he was already seemingly sick of pretending. The boy looked around, eyeing up a group of Ravenclaw’s hanging out at the other end of the hallway and sighed, turning back to me.

“I didn’t mean it like that, sorry.” He took my hand again, confusing me with a gentle smile.

It became apparent that Fred was a great liar, both to me and everyone else. He said goodbye, and I did my best to produce a fake smile, not that he would be able to tell the difference.

-

Fred watched her leave, noticing how uncomfortable her smile had been and wanting to punch himself in the face. Why was he acting like such an idiot around her? She was so easy to be happy around, but he repressed it, not enjoying the vulnerability she instilled in him.

He couldn’t deny himself the joy that came with the smiles, or when she held his hand so small inside his own. But he couldn’t let her know that, not ever. Because, when she looked up at him, those eyes so big and innocent, he wanted nothing more than to keep her safe from all the world’s evil. That was what made him weak to her.

She wasn’t ‘his’ in any sense of the word, not a possession like Cormac had described, but god why did he like showing her off to all the boys in her year. The same dirty guys that had confessed the things they wanted to do to her in the dark during a game of truth or dare. Thinking back on it made him mad, physically furious, he wanted to go back and kick them all in the mouths for ever defiling her that way.

It was wrong. Fred felt as though he was benefiting from something y/n had been so traumatised over, like he was her protector from Mclaggen and now she owed him the satisfaction of acting as his girlfriend. He had the nerve to revel in every fucking second of it too.

Fred felt as bad as her stalker. He felt as vulnerable to her as Cormac was, begging for her over and over until it drove him mad. He saw how easily love had turned his father obedient to his mother, and he’d watched Ron stumble over words whenever Hermione looked him straight in the eyes. Fred wasn’t like them, he didn’t need a relationship to belittle him as he’d watched it do to others. He needed to control himself, but it was so hard when he held her and felt what it was like to be under that trance.

She was most likely only being polite with him because he was just that little bit better than someone who broke into her dorm to do god knows what. He wished that she hated him, that she would scream and yell and tell him what a dick he was for making her do this. At least in that case, it would be easier to forget all that he wanted from her. It made him angry that she was so encaptivating, so furious that he felt the need to push her away.

That rage had gotten everyone into this mess to begin with, that anger had made him notice those desperate feelings for y/n that shouldn’t exist. Fred vowed to himself in that moment, he would do everything in his power to rid any attraction to the girl he merely owed a favour to.

-

Days went by, Fred and I agreeing that kissing one another on the cheek was far enough for people to still believe while not making things awkward between us. The boy, however, was becoming increasingly distant over the next few days. He seemed so calm and collected when we were around others, but the second we were alone he shut down.

His hands would drop mine as if I was the plague, no words exchanged. It hurt, knowing that it truly was all an act, contrary to Hermione’s theory. But nothing else had been hinted at from the start, he himself told all of us how much of a mistake it was. Now I had no choice but to believe him when he said that.

Each time he went silent, or grunted to me instead of talking, I was reminded of how many times he apologised. How quickly he regretted his actions, the second he’d told all of us that morning in my dorm. He never did it for me, I was just naive enough to think differently. Maybe it hurt because he was so convincing, he held me proudly and smiled as if I was the only person in the room. But I too was just someone else being fooled by a very good actor.

The only upside to it all was that Mcglaggen seemed to back off a bit, keeping the creepiness down to just stares across the great hall. It put me at ease again, knowing that I wouldn’t have to worry about walking into a room of flowers and gifts from someone I despised. At this point, he had to be yet another believer of mine and Fred’s fake relationship, thank god.

-

“I think he hates me,” I said into the darkness one night, unable to sleep and hoping my best friend would be the same.

“Who does?” She grumbled, drowsiness in her voice but not in her body.

“Fred.”

“Why do you say that?”

“You must’ve seen it too, he just ignores everything I say. Like he can’t even stand to be around me.” I huffed.

“Maybe he feels bad for you, he kind of forced it upon you.”

“It doesn't feel like pity… more like disgust.”

Hermione fell silent, searching her mind for a good response.

“Maybe there’s something else on his mind?” She explained.

“Maybe,” I rolled over and looked at the room from my bed, sighing and closing my eyes in another futile attempt to sleep.

-

I soon realised it was so incredibly stupid of me to ever think that Cormac would have backed off when I snuck off to the black lake one evening to have some time to myself. All I’d done for weeks on end was in the company of others, and it had started to suffocate me slightly. Hermione hadn’t mentioned our conversation about Fred, and his attitudes had only worsened over time, so I just decided to keep it all to myself. I’d snuck off while everyone was busy and walked to the water’s edge, watching the sunset.

It was peaceful, and refreshing to be alone. Finally, I could enjoy my own thoughts without someone interrupting them or the need to fill the silence between Fred and I. He had barely spoken to me all day, only putting on a smile at breakfast before going off to quidditch. Then he disappeared, not even turning up to dinner later on, which seemed to make some people talk as I prodded the food around my plate.

My mood’s were at an all time low, Fred’s constant rejection only pushing them deeper. I’d never needed his approval before, so why was I longing for it now? I hated that I wanted him to come and tell me he was sorry for being off with me. In reality, he probably enjoyed the one day without me around to bother him.

“All alone y/n?” His voice made me want to cry, the once bubbling anger had been conditioned into fear every time I heard him speak. I turned around, ready to leap up and run at any moment. Cormac stood smugly, arms crossed, as if he had finally gotten what he wanted. He had. Now I was all on my own, as he’d asked me already, and he could do whatever he’d wanted to since he’d laid eyes on me.

“What do you want?” I forced the words out shakily, only making him smile more.

He stepped forward and I scrambled to my feet clumsily, stepping back as he came closer.

“I want you to myself y/n, you’re wasting your time with Weasley.” I cringed at his words, if only he knew. I moved around him, trying to leave. But he would never give up that easy, he followed me up the hill with ease.  

“Stop it.” I begged.

“We’re meant to be together y/n,” He smiled, reaching for my hand but I just sped up. Making him jog after me. He wasn’t quite chasing me, neither of us moving fast enough for that, but it felt like a wolf closing in on me. “You can’t deny your feelings, can you?”

I stopped, for a split second pondering over the idea that he was talking about Fred. Then he smirked, that ugly god awful, gut-wrenching smile and I remembered that when Cormac spoke it was only ever in his own interest. So I kept walking, finally reaching the bridge to the courtyard.

“I’d love you so much more than he could y/n,” I didn’t dare respond, the tears pricking at my eyes. “He barely pays attention to you, I see it, there’s no spark with you two.” I hated that he was so right.

His words were impossible to ignore, even as we got into the castle with noises everywhere, Cormac’s rang out above them all. “Does Weasley ever touch you?” He asked me, that sick feeling increasing by the second.

Just the stairs to go, then I’d be inside the common room. Someone had to be there, and if not then Hermione was bound to be in the dorm. I prayed I wouldn’t be alone, I had no chance against Mclaggen if I needed to defend myself. I was fearing for the worst, his words unrelenting as he demanded to know intimate details.

“I want to be all over your body,” He whispered as I spoke the password, the painting swinging open. I’d never run inside so quickly, just to whip round to the boy following me closely. He seemed caught off guard, stumbling a little in his step.

“You’re a sick fucker, what will it take for you to understand that no one is ever gonna love you if you threaten them!” I screamed in his face, not giving him a chance to respond.

“I’m not something you can play about with, I’m a fucking person. Do everyone a favour Cormac and leave!”

I hadn’t spotted the three boys peering over at us, getting up in defense the second they saw who had followed me. Ron, Fred and George waited until I was done before coming to my side.

“There he is, your precious boyfriend.” I rolled my eyes at him and turned away again, not in any mood to deal with any of them.

“Leave her alone Mclaggen, she’s had enough of your shit.” Fred pushed the boy to the ground, towering over him with a foot pressed to his neck. He nodded, wanting to be let free and got up to rush off. I scoffed, but not at the pervert.

“I bet you’re so proud of yourself aren’t you,” I huffed, making Fred frown. He’d yet to see me mad, but it had been growing over time.

“What’s wrong?” His tone was dull, as if he couldn’t be bothered.

“You, you’re so full of yourself” I scoffed again.

Ron and George sloped off, deciding this was between the two of us alone.

“What did he say to you?” Fred tried to change the subject with a sudden gentle tone.

“Jesus why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

My face was blank with annoyance. He was so thick sometimes. He must know what he was doing, no one was that ignorant.

“You spend all day acting as if you hate me, out of nowhere, and then you do this. Play all protective and caring as if it’s normal. None of this IS NORMAL!” I was getting closer to him, trying my best to get him to understand from nearly half a foot shorter.

“I’m doing what we agreed, what’s the problem.”

“Do you hate me? Is that what it is, because tell me now and we can end this.” I laughed, wanting nothing more than to be far away from him.

“Y/n you’re mad over nothing.” He lied.

“I actually thought you could be half decent... but jokes on me eh?” I ranted, getting more and more furious by the second. I could see he was hurt, but my words were still riling him up and pissing him off. Fred took a deep breath to compose himself.

“It’s complicated y/n,” He tried his best to explain calmly, but I was too far gone.

“I get that I’m just charity work to you Fred.”

I went back out of the common room, passing Ron and George leant against a painting on my way down. They called after me, confused, as I raced down the stairs, but I didn’t dare stop. I needed to be away from them all, somewhere safe where I could hide from it all for a little while.

[chuckbass-love]

Yay! Same tbh I have loads of smuts ready to write 😂

Okay so my request is: either Steve or Chris (which ever one you feel more comfortable writing for) and Y/n are meeting their friends for the day to just have a day out or something. And whilst their getting ready y/n decides to tease Chris or Steve by putting in his favourite lingerie that he loves seeing her in. And just as Chris or Steve is about to pounce on her there’s a knock on the door and it’s their friends. Y/n keeps teasing him the entire night without fail and once they are in their car on their way home He just can’t keep his hands off of her anymore and ends up fingering her whilst he’s driving but he doesn’t let her cum 🥵

Hi love. I’m so happy about this request and so excited. I tried to write this a couple times, ended up deleting lots of parts before the ideas finally started flowing. So here it is.

Also, i’ve had so much fun getting to know you lately and i’m glad we started talking!

Disclaimer: My work is not to be posted anywhere else other than MY Tumblr, Wattpad and Ao3 without my permission. However, reblogs are welcome.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: Whole lotta filth/smut, language, fingering, oral (male receiving), hair pulling, degradation, orgasm denial, fluff, whole lotta romance. 18+

Word Count: 3,870

GIF NOT MINE!!! Credit goes to @luvinchris go check them out 💜

Punishments & Surprises 

Chris wonders into your shared bedroom, leaning against the doorway of your closet as he watches you get ready. You bend over to put some fresh panties on, the laced blue ones. His favourite. As you step into them, your pussy and ass on full view to him, he feels a situation develop in his jeans. Not the best time to get a hard cock,

The two of you are on your way out to meet some friends for food. And yet here he is, contemplating on cancelling just so he can fuck that beautiful pussy of yours. The thought of making you cum multiple times is too much for him. He tugs at his bottom lip as he comes out of his daze. Only to be met with the sight of you. In the bra that matches those panties.

God. You’re fucking perfect to him. Everything about you.

“You gonna talk at some point or just continue to drool?” you mock, noticing how his mouth is hanging open.

He closes it. His eyes ogle your half naked body, lust and hunger fill them.

“Please baby” Chris begging is always so amusing to you. Because it rarely happens, it makes it that much sweeter to tease him.

“Whatever you’re thinking, don’t. We have to be somewhere in 20 minutes Chris” you finish getting ready, slipping the skirt on and pairing it with the matching top and some heels.

He’s still staring you down. You walk past him but he grabs a hold of your hand, pulling you flush against him.

“Please, Y/N” you tut “what is it that you want baby? Want to bend me over the bed, slide that hard cock into my wet pussy. Fuck me stupid until i’m begging you to stop” you palm him over his slacks, winding him up even more.

He gulps at your words “yes, that’s exactly what i want” you giggle “too bad. We have plans with our friends” his breathing picks up even more as he rests his hands on your perfect ass.

“God you’re just pining for it aren’t you” you kneel down so your face is level with his crotch. You stick your tongue out and glide it across where his bulge is.

“So big” you giggle as you strut away from him. Leaving him standing there. All hot and bothered and rock hard.

You slip your coat on, handing him his as he meets you by the front door.

Just as he’s about to make a second attempt, there’s a knock.

You smirk at him, opening the door to reveal your friends.

“You guys ready?” you nod, stepping out of the house. Chris locks up before unlocking his car for you. You both get in and follow them to the restaurant.

“Such a tease” he spits, gripping the steering wheel tight.

“Chris we have plans, i can’t just drop them because you want to fuck”

“Starting to think you do this shit on purpose”

“Maybe i do. Maybe i love watching your cock get hard when you watch me bend over, shoving my ass and pussy in your face. Maybe i love flaunting myself in front of you”

“Fuck Y/N” he adjusts himself again, you’re definitely getting to him.

----------------

The night is going well. Drinks are flowing much like the conversation.

The topic then turns to you and Chris. How you got together. It was all thanks to his brother Scott. He set the two of you up. He noticed how both of you were clearly moping around, both single and clearly ready to date.

All it took was ten minutes. Ten minutes for you to know that he was the one.

Which doesn’t seem like a lot when you think about it but it was more than enough for you. You don’t care though. You liked him and he liked you. A match made in heaven.

Everyone praises Scott constantly for his match making skills. How he got it spot on.

Even his family does.

Lisa loves you, she classes you as a daughter and Shanna and Carly, even Scott calls you their sister.

You genuinely feel welcome and part of the family, which of course you are. Just not officially. Not yet anyways.

You then get talking about Dodger and the funny things he does.

Like last week when he pretty much tackled Chris to the ground when he was walking through the door with shopping bags. And when he walked in on you two kissing. He sat in the middle of you on the couch, looking back and forth until you were forced to stop due to laughing.

During dinner, you start to palm him. He coughs to cover up the soft moan that almost slipped out, in front of his friends.

You know it’s wrong but you just can’t stop and despite the looming threat of a punishment when you get home, nothing can stop you right now. Not even Chris.

He tugs at his bottom lip, trying to distract himself with eating and talking but that’s when you take his hand under the table, leading it to rest on your soaked clothed pussy. He gets a feel of how dripping you are for him. And when you get up to go to the bathroom, you whisper in his ear.

“See how wet you make me daddy”

He’s tried to tease you back plenty of times but you don’t allow it. He’s just gonna have to wait until he gets you alone.

You return, just in time to pay the bill. You take the spoon from the desert you just demolished. Licking every last bit of chocolate off of it, working your tongue around it. You turn to Chris to see him staring. Once you finish. You arrange how you’re all going to pay before exiting the restaurant.

“We have to do this more often for sure” Julie says, giving you a hug goodbye before hugging Chris.

“Definitely. It was so nice to catch up” he says, waving goodbye to the couple and unlocking his car.

You put your seatbelt on, as does he. Complete silence falls upon you. It’s not awkward, just tense.

“God that food was incredible” you groan, yawning shortly after. Still not a word from him. He chuckles, shaking his head as he starts the car, pulling out of the parking lot.

He gradually speeds up, causing you to gasp.

But still. Nothing from him.

“You think that’s fucking funny do you?”

You just widen your eyes, looking at him.

“What d-”

“Answer me” he snaps with a smack to your thigh, causing you to jolt.

“It was just a bit of fun Chris calm down”

“Just a bit of fun huh? How’s this for some fun then?”

He reaches his hand over, sliding your skirt up just enough so he can reach his hand into your wet panties.

“Spread them”

You waste no time in following his demands. He starts running his fingers through your folds and rubbing at your aching clit. You need him so badly.

But he isn’t going to give in easily. No, you’re gonna need to earn it. Earn the right to get fucked. And Chris never backs down in these situations, it’s rare if he does.

“Does it feel good huh?” you hum in response, gripping onto his forearm. It feels so good, the pressure. The way he can have you crumbling just from the smallest of touches is insane to you. But it’s always been this way.

“Please” your grip tightens, nails digging into his skin as you grind into his fingers. You just need a little more. You need his fingers inside of you, pushing against your spot and forcing an orgasm from you.

But it’s not gonna come true just yet.

“Please what?” 

“I need your fingers in me, please Chris” that’s your first mistake. You know full well in these situations that he doesn’t like to be called by his name. He insists on ‘daddy’ and yet you’ve just broken the most important rule. You’re definitely in for it now.

No chance of getting your way.

“What did you just fucking call me?” he slams two of his thick digits inside of you, no warning before pulling them out and smacking your thigh. 

“I asked you a question. Don’t test my patience baby” you moan at how low his voice has gotten “i didn’t mean it. I’m sorry daddy” he chuckles.

His fingers slowly slide back in and he wastes no time in dragging them in and out nicely “we’ll be home soon and i don’t want you to cum before then. If you do, you won’t like the consequences. You got it?” you nod, biting your lip and mumbling a nervous “yes” to satisfy him.

He continues to fuck into you, adding a third finger to the mix. You should be used to orgasm denial by now. You tend to break the rules a lot, leaving it up to Chris to teach you how to behave like a good girl. 

You gotta say though, you like it. The thrill of not knowing how well you’re going to hold it each time. Sometimes you can hold back, it’s a struggle and it’s certainly not easy but this time however, was not one of those times.

No this time, he’s not letting up. His speed is staying the same and he’s using his thumb to rub at your throbbing bundle of nerves. Making it almost impossible for you to not fall over. He knows what he’s doing. He wants you to cum, he’s doing this on purpose. He wants to punish you further.

Maybe the consequences won’t be so bad. You decide to test him

You let go, refusing the hold it any longer. Letting your body just take it.

“Mhmm fuck. Daddy” your walls clamp down around his digits and he pulls out.

“Thought you could pull a fast one did you? Thought i wouldn’t feel you getting close? Such a dumb little baby” your eyes widen as you watch his hand cup your sex before raising it to smack down.

You whine at his actions, begging for him to stop but he doesn’t “you just don’t learn do you?” you start pouting at him. Watching as he grips the steering wheel with both hands after 3 smacks.

The plan back fired.

“I’m sorry daddy” he’s not taking any of it. No amount of apologies or whines will make this better now. You just might be worse off now than you were before.

All of a sudden he pulls over. Some random side road.

“Take those fucking panties off now” you undo your seatbelt following his orders without any fuss before you turn to look at him, lips pouty and eyes all wide. Awaiting his next instructions.

His fingers fiddle with his belt.

“You’ve done nothing but tease me all dam day, bending that pretty little ass over in my face and exposing your cunt to me” he starts, unbuckling his belt and undoing the button on his jeans.

“Then we go out for some lovely food with our friends and you continue. Licking your spoon clean, rubbing my legs and placing my hand over your soaked panties” he slides the zipper down, moving so he can pull his jeans and boxers down. His rock hard cock springs free, the tip is red and angry as pre cum leaks out of it. Making your mouth water with need.

You gulp just looking.

“And that brings us to now, disobeying daddy’s rules. Trying to cum when i specifically told you that you couldn’t” he starts pumping himself before gathering the pre cum on his finger and bringing it to your mouth.

“Open” you feel the salty-sweet taste on your eager tongue as he stuffs his index finger in your mouth quickly.

“And now, you’re going to suck my fucking cock until i cum in that dirty mouth, put it to good use” you nod, moving forward and taking it in your small hands. You waste no time in taking all of him.

Moving down until he bottoms out. Your nose touches the hair that decorates his size.

He groans at the feel of your warm mouth around him. The feel of your tongue licking his shaft each time you come up for air.

Chris knows you’re a good girl most of the time. But sometimes you like to run your mouth and land yourself in hot water. He can’t say he doesn’t enjoy you doing so, it means he gets to be extra rough with you and he knows you enjoy it just as much. Why else would you go to the effort of teasing him all day? You’re dying to be punished and fucked hard. Treated like the whore that you are. But only for him.

He starts bucking his hips up into your mouth, causing you to gag, a sound he loves to hear. It’s like music to his ears.

“Is my cock too much for you baby?” you pull off with a pop “no daddy” he forces himself back inside of your mouth, you gag once again.

“Something tells me that you’re lying. You can’t handle daddy’s cock pretty girl?” you pull off again.

“No daddy, i can handle it” he chuckles at the way you’re so responsive to him.

Now it’s clear he has other plans for you.

“Come here, sit on my cock” just what you’ve been waiting for.

You move over, he lines himself up and you sink down. But before you can even think about bouncing, he holds you still.

“You’re gonna stay still, sitting with my cock buried deep inside you, keeping it warm. I want you to think about how you’ve acted tonight first before you ride me”

You gulp again. This is the last thing you expected him to do.

“I’m sorry daddy. Please” he tuts “not everything will magically go away with a quick apology princess. I want you to really be sorry. And there’s only one way you’re going to learn” your breathing becomes heavier.

You don’t even need to ask, he knows you want to know.

And just like that, he tugs your head backwards. His mouth attacks your clothed nipples. His hips move and you feel his cock twitch.

He takes your shirt, tearing it in two with no issues. Leaving your chest exposed. Now you really feel like a whore.

Pulled over on a side road, where anyone could drive by. If they do, they’d have quite the sight. You sat on his cock, tits out as he sucks on them.

“F-fuck daddy” your whines are getting louder and louder. He doesn’t listen though, just continues to leave marks all over your chest and neck. He won’t let up until you’re covered.

“Okay, you ready princess? Think you’ve earnt the right to be fucked?” you nod “yes daddy, please fuck me” 

You don’t have to tell him twice.

His hands splay across your ass cheeks, gripping at them and digging his nails in as he lifts you up, making room for him to fuck you.

His thrusts pick up instantly. The look in his eyes is rendering on animalistic. Lust filled.

This is the side of Chris that you absolutely adore. He can make you do pretty much anything when he gets like this. Hungry and annoyed at your actions. It’s a dangerous mix but one that’s as sweet as sugar.

“Always so tight and warm wrapped around me” he grunts, your forehead rests against his, your hands hold onto his shoulders for support.

“Shit, you feel so good” you throw your head back, arching your back. He takes the opportunity to bury his face in the valley of your breasts. Kissing you, open mouthed.

“God. I feel that pretty cunt clenching me like that. Don’t you dare fucking cum baby. You have to wait” 

But you can’t wait, you need that release. It’s been building up and his punishments haven’t helped.

“Please. D-daddy. I need to cum” he shakes his head.

You’ve never begged him so much.

“You want it? Huh? Fucking beg, properly this time”

He drags his cock in and out, aggressively. Not letting up. Hitting your cervix again and again. Your mouth falls open, incomprehensible murmurs leave and he’s not much better. His eyes scrunch closed before he opens them to watch you.

“Fuck baby” 

“Please, i want to cum. I need to cum. Please daddy, I’ll be a good girl” as much as he wants to continue this torture, he needs it too. 

He craves the mess of your cum all over his cock. The way you clamp down on him as you do so, spurring on his own release.

The way you moan at the feel of him spilling inside of you.

“You ready to cum with me sweetheart?” 

“Yes” 

He slams in slow and hard. You clench. He twitches.

“OH SHIT” you scream, falling over the edge as your orgasm consumes you. The way your crying out brings his release on,

You feel his hot seed coat your walls, painting them and filling you up perfectly. You continue to lift off and sink back down. Allowing yourselves to ride the highs out together.

He brings your face to his level. His lips attack yours in a hungry and bruising kiss. Filled with passion and love.

He swipes his tongue across your bottom lip, nipping at it slightly. You open up, allowing him to explore your mouth, dominating your tongue at the same time. You love it.

“Every time we do that, it gets better” you both laugh and you can’t help but agree with him. Sex has always been adventurous, wild and yet completely tame and romantic with you two. You never know which type you’re gonna get some nights, but that’s what makes it so fun.

“I love you so much Y/N, so much” he pants as he rests his forehead to yours.

“I know, i love you too Chris”

“No, you don’t understand”

You furrow your brows in confusion, motioning for him to continue.

“My life has been a million times better since you came into it. You make me a much better man, a better boyfriend. Just by being with me. I love you with every ounce of my being. With every cracked piece of my heart. With every kiss that you give me, every touch, every smile, every laugh. I fall more and more and i can’t spend another moment on this earth without telling you this. You need to hear it. You’re the only woman for me, the only woman i ever want to wake up next to, the only woman i want to make love to, the only woman. It’s like we fit together so perfectly, almost like we were made and brought into this world, destined to meet and be together. Like this was the plan all along”

Your heart starts to race, tears brim in your eyes. Where has all this come from? You can’t help but wonder. He wears his heart on his sleeve with you and he always has done but you’ve never seen him like this.

His shaky hands cup your face, kissing you before he continues.

He leans over to the passenger side, opening the glove compartment and taking out a small box.

Okay, now you’re freaking out.

“Chris”

He puts a finger over your lips, shushing you so he can talk.

“I know that we’ve been with other people before each other but it feels like that was just just part of the plan. We weren’t ready to be together just yet. We had to experience life first. Experience true heartbreak before we could finally be happy together. And now we are. I want you to know that for as long as you allow me to, i will make you the happiest woman on earth. I won’t ever make you feel neglected. You’ll never have to question if you’re worthy or beautiful because i’ll be right here to remind you that you are more than worthy and that beauty knows no bounds when it comes to you. That you are quite literally the most stunning woman. You will never spend a night crying alone, i’ll be here to hold your hand and comfort you during any difficult time”

“Chris, what’s all this?”

He wipes the tears away from his face and yours.

“I know i’m supposed to get down on one knee and i wasn’t planning on doing this until next week on date night” he starts chuckling at himself “but, this moment feels far too perfect to not take the chance”

“I love you Y/F/N will you do me the great honour of becoming my wife and Dodgers official mommy?” you giggle at that last part. He opens the box to reveal the most gorgeous ring that you’ve ever seen. Your eyes meet his, both filled with tears of joy and happiness.

“Yes”

“Really?” he looks surprised.

“Yes. You huge dork. A thousand times yes. I’ll marry you” he pulls you down to kiss him before sliding the ring onto your fingers. It fits perfectly, just like he thought it would and it looks so good on you. So right.

“I guess we should probably get dressed now huh?” you slap his chest playfully, nodding in agreement as you move to your seat. You adjust your clothes and he does the same. Once you’re dressed, he gets a jacket from the back seat, handing it to you to cover your modesty with. He can’t have the neighbours seeing his fiancés tits now can he?

It doesn’t take long to get home. His hand rests on your thigh.

Once he parks up he leads you into the house where Dodger runs up to the two of you and you flash your hand to him. He might just be a dog but from the way he’s jumping up the two of you and barking, he knows.

“That’s right Dodge, daddy finally did it. It only took 4 years” you say sarcastically, spying the way Chris rolls his eyes.

“Hey, i was picking the right moment”

“And fucking me senseless in your car on the side of the road, was the right moment?” he pulls you flush against him.

“Do i have to punish you again, future Mrs Evans?” you love the sound of that.

“Maybe you do Mr Evans”

“Get in that bedroom now” he spanks your ass and you run.

By the time he gets there, you’re sprawled out on your shared bed. Pussy exposed, nipples hard. Just how he likes you to be.

“Now. If you’re going to be my wife i suggest you stop with the attitude or you should probably get used to daily punishments”

He smirks, joining you on the bed.

You feel like the luckiest woman in the world. A woman who is very much looking forward to a lifetime of punishments from her husband. A lifetime of nasty and romantic sex. Starting with tonight. The first night of being engaged to Christopher Robert Evans.

----------------

General Tag List: @deadlymistress24 @coffeebooksandfandom @princess-evans-addict @chris-butt @holtzkinnon @mychemicalimagines @llamadelreyx @haus-of-bitch-talk @buckstaybucky @thewinchestergirl1208 @chrissquares @patzammit @adriannajackson @dummiesshort @cevans-fics @americasass91 

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REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!

[neutron-stars-collision]

The Art of Inversion

Neil x Reader 

Chapter 5 - A Question of Trust 

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4 

Summary: First day in New York brings new challenges and fears. But one thing is certain, your relationship with Neil is changing.

Warnings: Minor cursing.

Author’s Notes: So this is sort of an unplanned early update because I loved what I wrote and had to share it with you. Hope you enjoy this quieter chapter before things kick off very soon...

Also this has been severely inspired by ‘A Question of Lust’ by Depeche Mode so I’ll post the link in another post!

Despite being severely jet-lagged, the next two days, you did not get much rest. You and Neil were thoroughly briefed by the TP on Saturday, and the plan seemed simple: arrive in New York; check into the hotel; research the target (a weapons dealer named Steiner); set up a meeting with Mr. Steiner; rehearse the cover; get intel; leave New York unscathed but with valuable information.

You have received a Glock (just in case), a burner phone with emergency contacts, and a dossier filled with the information about your cover. As far as you have managed to learn so far, you and Neil were supposed to pose as ‘partners in crime’ hoping to get your hands on the mysterious nuclear material. It did seem easy. But that did not help the stress you felt the closer you got to the departure.

Monday morning, you stepped onto the Amtrak train to New York Penn Station and followed Neil to the First-Class compartment. You had two seats with a large table and a window in a relatively quiet carriage. This time, sadly, you have not taken your notes with you and have been desperately looking for a distraction. Neither of you has mentioned the moment on the terrace, and you felt like it was a cause of mild tension. But instead of addressing it in any way, you decided to stare out of the window. After going through the same onboard magazine for the third time, you heard Neil clear his voice deliberately. You looked at him with a raised eyebrow:

“I’m bored” he shrugged and grinned at your eye roll “Want to talk?”

You searched his face for any signs of wicked intents. But he seemed genuinely interested.

“As long as you won’t make me drink again and embarrass myself” you turned towards him with a pointed look.

“I promise” he smiled and leaned onto the table separating your seats 

“However I must correct you and say that you haven’t embarrassed yourself on the plane” when you glared at him with disbelief, he added “At all”

“If you say so”

His piercing blue eyes were fixed on you with fondness that made you want to turn away. But you held his gaze until he grinned and asked:

“Excited to go on your first mission?”

“If by excited you mean scared then yeah” he laughed, and you beamed back “Though I suppose if my first outing is with you I should consider myself lucky”

“Oh you’re certainly lucky in that regard” he winked, grinning smugly “I’ll keep you entertained”

The smirk and look in his eyes were far from innocent and you felt your face heat up at the sight. But you did not want to let him win easily.

“I’ve no doubts about that” you stared back defiantly.

Your staring contest finished when he smiled and reached out for your hands that were folded on the table. He squeezed them.

“We’ll manage just fine together, I’m sure. It’s a simple mission” he reassured you softly.

“Can’t say I’m convinced” you looked back sceptically and frowned “I’m a bit surprised you’re willing to go into the field with a rookie”

“TP said it has to be us” he shrugged and leaned back into his seat.

Your hands felt cold without his touch.

“You do trust him enough to do anything he says?” you asked with curiosity.

All that you have learned during the meeting with the Protagonist was still fresh on your mind. You struggled to understand how on earth you could be important to the story. But it was made quite clear that you would have to wait for any answers.

“Yes” Neil’s tone was quite serious “I’ve learnt from past mistakes that he really does know how things will go”

You haven’t missed the distant look of sadness in his eyes. You made a mental note to one day learn the story. He must have noticed your scrutiny as he schooled his features and added:

“And it’s better to listen to him. No matter how difficult it might be” he looked at you with a faint smile.

You did wonder if he thought about the moment on the terrace in that instant. But before you could dare ask, he closed the subject with a definite statement:

“I know for a fact that you’ll be much better than a random rookie” he grinned, and despite feeling conflicted, you smiled back.

Then he quickly changed the topic to New York itself, and you rather enjoyed talking to him about your travels and experiences with other cities. While you were still stressed, when you arrived at Penn Station, you were much less tense. The conversation has distracted you enough to forget about the worries. You wondered if that was why Neil wanted to talk in the first place.

*** You took a taxi to the hotel, which was situated far off from the main city centre. It was a comfortable and stylish four-star establishment with a booking system that did not mind fake identities. Your rooms were on the sixth floor and were joined by a set of locked doors, as you were informed by the receptionist (with a wink). You were not sure what to do with this information but, as usual, Neil’s charm saved you.

“Thank you, miss” he smiled at the clerk and snatched your keys from the counter “It’s good to know” he smirked and walked away.

You followed him to the lift, where you could finally ask:

“What was that about?”

“I suppose she thought that we’re not here for…” he took a moment to think about the right word “Strictly business reasons” he enunciated every syllable “But rather for fun while keeping up the appearances”

Your eyes widened at the implication.

“Right” you didn’t dare think why she got that impression.

Neil chuckled as he led you to the rooms, pausing to hand you the key. Only once you saw him open the door to his room you sobered up:

“Wait, what do we do now?”

“Come to my room once you’re ready. I won’t lock the door” he winked and disappeared into his room.

You stared at the closing door before shaking your head and entering your own room.

He can be impossible sometimes, you thought with fondness and disbelief.

The room was quite big, with a queen-sized bed, a sofa with a coffee table, and a large bathroom. The view came out onto the maze of skyscrapers that you associated with New York. The barely visible sky was grey and threatening with rain. You decided to quickly shower, change into more comfortable clothes, and fix your make-up. All that took twenty minutes and you were quite proud of yourself. You opened the door leading to Neil’s room and hesitated at the second set. Trying the handle you found it unlocked and tentatively came in.

“Finally” he gave out a theatrical sigh from his place on the sofa.

He changed into yet another shirt and dress trousers. You did sometimes wonder how many sets of those he had.

The next thing you noticed was that while you were getting ready Neil has ordered quite a big selection of food from the room service. It has taken the whole space on the coffee table, along with water and teapot.

“Wow” you grinned at the sight, feeling your stomach rumble.

“Thought we might need it” he shrugged and motioned for you to join him on the sofa.

“I know I did” you quickly dove for the toasties before he could snatch them.

He laughed at your enthusiasm for food, but you could not care less at the moment. You felt his fond gaze for a little longer before he too started the feast. After you ate, Neil cleared the table and spread out the dossier along with any files you received.

“So…” you both looked down at the mess of papers and photos “Today we need to get to that bar” you squinted at the name “Benny’s and set up a meeting with Steiner?” you looked up at Neil for clarification.

“Yeah, that’s it” he nodded and picked up one of the documents “We’re a pair of weapon dealers who want to know a bit more about that mysterious piece of plutonium” he explained.

“That’s a manageable cover” you mused while trying to memorise your new identity.

“Well, I was hoping they’d make us fake married or something” Neil retorted innocently, and you glared at him sharply.

“What? Wouldn’t you want to be married to me?” the wounded look on his face made you laugh.

“Sounds horrible” you swatted his arm playfully and reached for another document.

But before you got that far, he grabbed your hand and squeezed it. You met his soft gaze and smiled back, admiring the sparks in his blue eyes. After a beat, he let go of your hand.

“I think we’d be a perfect match” he sent you one last smug smile and got up “We should get going if we want to catch Raul and establish contact” he added.

A perfect match? You observed as Neil put on the tie and suit jacket and considered his words with curiosity. You did like him, there was no denying that. And you felt like he enjoyed your company too. But before you could dwell on it too long, you felt his intense gaze. Caught in the act of staring, you felt yourself blush. But he only grinned and offered you a hand to get up from the sofa.

“C’mon, we need to get going” he ushered you towards your room.

Right, first mission. You took a deep breath and started to get ready. The time has come.

*** The first part of the plan went without any major fuck-ups. You and Neil met Raul at the bar, and he gave you all the information you could need about Steiner. It was clear that you both had to learn your roles perfectly as he tended to be suspicious. After that Neil went away to set up the meeting with the weapons dealer for tomorrow’s evening. All you could do was entertain Raul with random stories from your training which proved rather easy.

Once Neil came back, you both decided to go back to the hotel to get much-needed rest and prepare. The fact that so far everything seemed to go along the plan, made you feel a tiny bit more confident. But nerves were still there, and you could barely contain them when you made it back to the hotel. You lied to Neil that you were tired and shut the door before you could even look at him again.

But after showering, changing into sleeping clothes, and having a cup of herbal tea, nothing got better. You tried lying down in the darkened room only to quickly get up with a pain in your chest and shallow breath. After sitting in the dark and trying to calm down your racing thoughts for close to an hour, you gave up. You put on a cardigan and looked at the door leading to Neil’s room. It was past 1 AM but you had the feeling he was not sleeping. You knew there was no way you were able to rest now. Oh, why the hell…

You tried the handle of the connecting doors and found it unlocked. Of course. 

Neil’s room was covered in darkness, save for a bedside table lamp casting a warm glow. You were struck by how neat everything looked, with his suitcase in one corner and clothes folded on the chair. Only the bed was in disarray with papers thrown on it and Neil himself sat in the middle. He glanced up as you came in, surprised:

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

“I tried but…” you shrugged helplessly “Just couldn’t get my brain to shut up”

The worry in his gaze made you freeze. He was sat on the bed with ruffled hair and a wrinkled shirt. He was probably very tired. And you were weak and overreacting again. Suddenly you realised what a mistake it was to come here:

“Sorry, I shouldn’t… I’ll go now” you blurted and started to turn away.

You heard the rush of papers falling onto the floor and then Neil’s voice.

“No, stay” he sounded concerned.

Slowly you turned around to face him again, trying to put on a brave face. It was pointless though because he saw right through you. He got up from the bed, scattering all the documents onto the floor. Seeing you hesitate, he crossed the distance and took your hand in his, guiding you towards the bed. That only increased your panic.

“What are you doing?” you tried not to step on all the papers “Don’t we need those?”

He looked down at the pile with a surprised look, almost as though he forgot about them. Then he quickly made up his mind and looked up at you with determination.

“We do. But more so I need you to calm down so get in” he gestured towards the bed.

Your mind was blank. There was so much that could go wrong. But he noticed your uncertainty and unceremoniously pushed you onto the bed. You stared in shock before recovering enough to retort:

“You know I’m pretty sure there are better ways to make a lady sleep with you” You heard him laugh as he collected the pages.

“Certainly” finally he got up and dumped the pile onto the coffee table “But it worked” he shrugged.

Neil watched as you clumsily shifted to sit up with your back against the headboard and then joined you. After a few minutes of awkward silence, you asked:

“Sure you don’t want me to leave so you can go back to work?”

You felt extremely self-conscious in your sleeping clothes, with uncombed hair and tear-streaked cheeks. Neil’s intense gaze did not help it either but before you could even think about getting up, he replied:

“Perfectly sure” he smiled at you softly “Now tell me what’s wrong”

You sighed and let yourself relax slightly, leaning on the pillows. Staring straight ahead at the wall, you explained:

“I felt very anxious and hoped that maybe the shower and tea will help. Nothing changed so I tried to go to sleep but… my chest started aching and I couldn’t breathe” you finished while feeling the tears well up at the recollection.

You felt the bed shift as Neil moved closer and took one of your hands. You watched with curiosity as he traced the lines of your veins to the pulse point on the wrist and held his pointer finger there, checking your heart rate. You felt a nervous flutter at the gentle way he cradled your hand. You were pretty positive he will detect a pulse of 100bmp. After thirty seconds of intense focus, Neil released his hold on your hand and smiled:

“Apart from a very fast heart rate, you’ll be fine” he winked, and you looked down flustered.

But you were not allowed to get lost in shame for too long as he scooted even closer, leaving no space between you, and gingerly placed his arm around your shoulders.

“Is this okay?” he asked, looking at you with genuine concern.

Your breath hitched at the closeness of him, but you quickly suppressed the feeling and nodded. After a few more tense breaths, you relaxed into the embrace, feeling him trace circles on your shoulder.

“What made you so scared?” his voice broke the comfortable silence.

“Think it’s just the idea of the first mission” you admitted “And ever since you and TP told me about the plan and the algorithm, I felt this tension rise and I guess it just hit the fan” sighing helplessly, you let your head rest on his shoulder.

“It’s okay, I probably would have been more concerned if you took all this without questions”

“I guess I reacted that way because I never expected to be important… Definitely not in something of that scale” once you started talking the honesty did not seem to stop “I’ve spent so much time looking for my place in the world and now when I think I’ve found it, I’m not sure I’m good enough” 

After your admission, you felt Neil’s embrace tighten. You propped your head on his shoulder, so it was resting in the crook of his neck again, enjoying the warmth and safety.

“You are more than good enough” when he finally spoke you were almost surprised “And I’m not only saying that because I believe in what TP says”

You looked up at Neil and met his earnest gaze.

“Since the day we met and I showed you how inversion works, I knew that you will be amazing at it” he smiled at you softly.

“Even though I nearly passed out in the training zone?”

“Yeah” he grinned at the memory fondly “I just had the feeling that you’re supposed to work with us, with me”

You would swear that his eyes briefly glanced at your lips. But as quickly as the thought entered your mind, he reached out to brush away a stray hair from your forehead and you lost the ability to think entirely. He tucked the strand with care and brushed your jawline with his thumb.

“TP was right, you know” he was looking at you with a tenderness that made your heart ache.

“About?”

“Me taking care of you” he smiled and admired your dazed expression. You could only stare, too overwhelmed with feelings to say anything. And you probably would have kept on staring if it was not for the extreme tiredness that begun to catch up. Before you could say anything, a wide yawn made you cover your face with your hands. The spell was broken.

“Think you’re tiny bit tired” Neil grinned at your sheepish expression.

“No shit” you mumbled and moved to get up, but he kept his grip steady.

“You can stay here” he answered your surprised glance.

You quickly considered the options, admitting that it was tempting. You felt safe with Neil and his presence definitely made you calmer. But it did feel like crossing some lines.

He was still looking at you with that hopeful eyes and that sealed the deal.

“Thanks… for everything” you smiled at him, hoping to convey even a quarter of what you felt through it.

“Always” he grinned back.

You both quietly shifted so that you were lying down with a small gap between you, both staring at the ceiling. After a few quiet moments, he turned off the bedside lamp and turned to face you.

“Good night” you heard him whisper and turned to look at him too.

“Sweet dreams, Neil” you replied while trying to make out his features in the darkness of the room.

“Oh I know they will be sweet” you could picture the sly grin.

And with that, he turned onto the other side. No longer than five minutes later you heard his breath level off and make way for quiet snores. You could not help but smile at the adorable sound. Maybe this night wasn’t so bad in the end.

*** You have not slept so soundly in days. When you woke up, the first thought that came to your mind was that you were being cuddled. An arm was thrown over your waist and you felt warm breath near your ear. Then as the morning fog slowly ascended, you remembered it all clearly. Neil. As though he was reading your mind, a second later you felt him stir and mumble:

“Morning sunshine” he sounded cheery.

Before you could react you felt him brush his lips over your temple. You froze, feeling the flutters in your stomach return with tripled force. Taking a deep breath to calm down you slowly squeezed the hand that was draped over your waist and sat up.

“Hi” you glanced at him only to be astounded by how unkempt and yet adorable he looked.

His hair was completely ruffled, with strands sticking out in every direction. And the shirt and trousers were crumpled to the point of needing starch treatment to ever be wearable again. And yet he still looked good. Especially with that boyish smile and sparkling eyes. One could suppose that you were not immune to him. At all.

“Do you always sleep in that?” you gestured towards his outfit, trying to divert your thoughts.

“No, but I didn’t want to overwhelm you last night” it was that shit-eating grin again “Did you sleep well?” he sat up now too but kept his distance.

“Very well” you admitted with a blush “But it’s late and we should probably prepare” you used the most sensible excuse to get up.

Before you could do that, Neil reached out and took your hand in his, intertwining your fingers.

“Just don’t you dare feel sorry for this” you knew he was serious from the look in his eyes.

“I’ll try” you smiled slightly and used this chance to leave his room in haste.

While you did indeed try not to feel embarrassed about what happened, it was difficult. You were not used to people seeing you as vulnerable as you were last night. But at the same time, he did not seem to mind and that took you by surprise. His kindness and thoughtfulness were certainly not helping in trying to be more objective about him.

You managed to get changed and prepare yourself for the day relatively fast, considering what a mess your thoughts were. Once you were done you grabbed the needed documents from the coffee table and made beeline for Neil’s room without thinking too much. As usual, the door was unlocked.

The moment you stepped into his room you knew you have fucked up. He was there, just in front of where you entered, in a new pair of trousers and no shirt. Your eyes widened when you registered that last detail.

“Shit, sorry! I shouldn’t just come in…”

“No worries, darling” Neil drawled out the nickname expressively.

He looked at you with a grin, clearly enjoying it more than you were. It seemed as though he slowed down the process of putting on a new shirt just to tease you. It worked. You stared at his rather fit body and felt your cheeks grow warmer. He caught your wandering gaze with a wink and held it with an expression that was far from innocent. The knowing smirk told you that he was aware of what he was doing. But still, you held your ground, letting yourself openly look at his toned arms and chest. If he didn’t mind then there was no harm in looking, right?

Finally, he finished the process of buttoning up the shirt, while still keeping his gaze fixed on you. He assessed your expression with one last look and grinned:

“Let’s get to work, sunshine”

You wanted to punch him in that perfect jaw.

[thedandelion-writer]

hi!! for the 600 followers milestone- congrats!! you deserve it so much 🥺 and could i request a matchup? i'm ok with both genders, i'm an INFP and my zodiac sign is cancer. i'm more on the shy / reserved side but honestly it depends on the company i have but i enjoy talking to people! honestly i don't have high expectations,, just someone loyal and trustworthy will do :3 boundary wise, i would rather not rush my first kiss bc pda to me is more of like a sign of affection than anything else

A/N: Aw thank you sm!! ^^ And I've got to be honest with you, even if this wasn't much info to go by, the second I read through it one character popped into my mind. I've tried to search for other possibilities but my mind went nope, this is the one, now WRITE IT.

(They have sent me a separate ask with additional information about Q.4)

But without further ado, you're going with...

Diluc!

My reasons!

Diluc is definitely someone loyal and trustworthy, let's get that out of the way. He's also quite reserved, and comfortable silences, I feel, would be a recurring thing between the two of you. I also find that he would be the rational person in the relationship, since you can tend to be the emotional counterpart. This is not to say he is cold though! Diluc cares about you deeply, but sometimes his troubled past can make him seem like he has a hard time expressing himself outwardly (he is touch starved and emotionally constipated please shower him with love). He is definitely one loosen up a bit over time, so I was thinking more long term when I matched you guys up! Even though he was my first choice, I had also thought about Jean or Keqing. But at the end, I felt like the two were lackluster in certain areas and so I chose fire daddy I mean Diluc- instead :)

The First Date:

It was a young night on a weekend, so in truth, you were disappointed but not surprised that this happened

"Is there anywhere else you'd like to go?" Diluc looked on the long, long line snaking out of the restaurant you really wanted to take him to

Because what better way than to know someone better than over some good food? Though that plan was utterly ruined due to the fact that waiting in line for hours on end was not very romantic

Your feet hurt, though if his did too he didn't show it one bit

"I will take you anywhere," he offered.

Sheepishly, you smiled. "Yeah, let's get out of here."

And so it was. But you still haven't answered his question, the two of you now wandering the emptying street. That was the only thing you had thought of this evening and your mind was blank as to where to go next

"Um, hey- I'm sorry," you blushed, a little embarassed, this was supposed to be his first impression and you totally blew it.

"Do not apologise," he said,"you couldn't have predicted this to happen."

"But I told you today was going to be fun, and it's been pretty sucky so far," you went on, feeling a little glum.

Times like these make Diluc wish he had a way with words, someone who could say something funny or 'cheesy' as he heard some people put it. But he always ended up sounding stiff, and you deserved him to be genuine before anything else.

Instead, he rubbed soothing circles on your back with his thumb, thinking of what other places he could take you to uplift your spirit.

"I do have another idea," you peered up at him tentatively,"oh, but I don't know..."

"What is it?" Diluc prompted you to continue.

After all, he wanted today to go well just as much as you do maybe even more so

"Well, we could go back to my place," you scuffed your foot along the pavement,"it's not going to be as fancy as a restaurant but I could whip up a mean honey ro-"

"Let's do that," he cut in. Your face must have looked somewhere in between a little surprised and amused because he cleared his throat and said,"that sounds nice."

Smiling at his approval, you tugged at his arm down the road to your humble abode, up the stairs and into the kitchen.

Setting up the table with a cloth and spare candles, you deemed it passable for a homemade candlelit dinner.

Now for the actual dinner part

Diluc insisted to help, and you agreed, but only if he would let you put a frilly apron on him (he begrudgingly lets you because he couldn't say no to the pleading, as long as you did not take a picture or breathe a word of this to Kaeya)

That was a small price to pay for the sight of the once stoic man who now looked like a housewife, ladle in hand.

Though you looked away for one second and he burned the carrots

You stifled your laughter, pushing the confused Diluc out of the kitchen, re-delegating him to making the drinks instead

Even though the evening had started out rocky, it definitely turned out better than you imagined.

After everything was cleaned up, Diluc folded his coat over an arm and you walked him to the door.

"I do hope we'll have another chance at sharing a meal," he said, halfway out the door,"if you'll have me, that is."

"O-of course Diluc, I'd love that," you looked down, suddenly feeling shy.

"Goodnight Y/N."

"Goodnight!"

As soon as he turned around you closed the door, heart racing, a goofy smile plastered across your face.

[matbarzyy]

Brave [A.B.]

A/N: This is a very self indulgent piece I’m really not sure I should be posting. I’ve had a weird few days and this came out of it. If depression is triggering to you, please don’t read this. It’s basically just Tito picking the reader up on a really bad day. I know I need it sometimes, so as much as I thought I should keep this to myself I figured one of you might need it too.

Word count: 4495

Warnings: severe depression

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“Hi,” Anthony greeted you when you picked up the phone, heading to his car. “How are you?” He asked the question every single time he saw you or got you on the phone, which you used to think was just out of politeness, but he nagged you whenever you dodged answering. He genuinely cared and he made sure to ask everyone he loved how they were doing regularly.

“I’m okay, you?” You hoped the short answer would suffice him, because you didn’t have much energy to elaborate further than that. Your eyes were barely open, but even when they were all you could see was your bedroom ceiling or the mess that you had made of the place.

“Yeah, yeah I’m good,” He sat in the driver’s seat of his car, buckling his seatbelt. “I’m headed to the gym and then I’ll train for a while, do you want me to come over later tonight? Cuddles and a movie?” He made the offer he had never heard you say no to. He hadn’t seen you in a few days and he was dying to hold you and nuzzle his face in your neck to hear you giggle because he was tickling you.

“Oh, um,” You cleared your throat because you felt like your voice was giving up on you. He sounded so excited, but you just couldn’t say yes. There was no way you could make your place look even half decent by tonight, and you didn’t want him to see it (or you) like this.

“Are you crying?” Tito stopped everything he was doing, worrying his lower lip between his teeth at the sudden shift of mood. He should have picked up on it when you barely said anything when you answered the phone.

“No, no I’m fine,” You lied, trying to keep your voice sounding as normal as possible. It was hard with your nose blocked and your chest shaking as loud sobs threatened to fall from your lips soon. “I’m not sure tonight is the best night for plans though, what about tomorrow?” You tried to get the idea out of his head and remake the plans for some other time as fast as possible, you wouldn’t last long on the phone with him without crying.

“Yeah, tomorrow works. Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked again for good measure, a frown settling on his face.

“Of course, don’t worry about me. I’ll talk to you later?” Your cheerfulness sounded fake but you couldn’t bring yourself to give him more than that.

Something didn’t sit right with Anthony. Even after you hung up he replayed your words in his head. You were definitely crying, and he couldn’t just leave you like that, even if you had asked him not to come over tonight. He knew you needed your alone time, but he hadn’t seen you in a few days and if you weren’t okay he didn’t want you to feel lonely. You tended to have a bit of an attitude and you’d have no trouble letting him know he wasn’t wanted if you were busy and didn’t want him over, in which case he’d just go to the gym.

He couldn’t leave you without checking, so he took another turn and found himself on his way to your place. The key to your apartment was attached right next to his so that he’d never lose it, and he was thankful you trusted him to have it. He never used it much, but he couldn’t stand it when you cried (and god forbid he was ever the reason for it, because the first time you two had a fight he apologised so much he ended up crying more than you).

“Hello?” Anthony called out to make himself known as he walked into the apartment and made sure to lock the door behind himself. The living room was messier than you ever let him see it. None of your blankets were folded, and some clothes littered the floor by the couch. Even your shoes were in the way, something he couldn’t understand because you were always so adamant in putting them away as soon as you walked in. “Hey,” He found you the second he stepped into your bedroom, your body curled up under the blankets.

“What are you doing here?” You had heard him unlock the door and tried to pull yourself together, but your hair was still a mess and you couldn’t get yourself out of bed fast enough anyway.

“You didn’t sound okay on the phone,” He glanced towards the window for a second. The curtains weren’t letting much light in, and your room smelled a little stuffy, like you hadn’t opened the window or even your door all day.

“But… I thought you said you were going to the gym and that you wanted to train?” You tried to adjust the covers on your bed, but even the sweater you were wearing was twisted around your body. Tito could see you were a mess and it made you feel even worse. You had been so good at hiding it up until now, he had never seen you like this.

“The gym will be there for me to go to tomorrow, you need me right now and you’re always going to be my priority,” He took in everything around him. Some more clothes were scattered over the floor, an empty glass of water was sitting on the nightstand with a cereal bar wrapper, and more of those could be found on your carpet. It wasn’t hard to guess you hadn’t moved for hours, or even the whole day.

“I’m okay,” You swallowed heavily, a guilty feeling taking over the pit of your stomach. You didn’t like it when guests came in and you didn’t have time to clean, you needed the place to be spotless so that they couldn’t judge how lazy you were.

“Don’t lie to me,” His voice was soft as he crouched by the bed, ignoring everything around him to focus on your first. “I can tell you’ve been crying,” He went to cup your cheek, and you let him for a second before turning your face back into your pillow.

Your body shook with a silent sob while his hand fell off. He felt so helpless, watching you like this without knowing how to help you. Seeing you cry always hurt him, but the way you were right now shattered his heart. He didn’t really know what was wrong, and he had no clue of when you had started feeling bad enough for you to end up like this.

“It’ll be okay,” He settled for whispering soothing words, not sure if touching you would help or make it worse. He knew from a few texts and conversations that you had days like these, but he had never been there to help you through them. You had definitely downplayed it whenever you told him about it. “Baby, please look at me,”

“I’m sorry,” Your voice came out broken and quiet as you slowly turned your head, red swollen eyes staring into his bright blue ones.

“Don’t apologise,” He settled for taking your hand in his and rubbing the back of it gently with his thumb. “You don’t have to, I just want to help, okay?”

“I’m tired,” You whispered, your whole body so slumped you couldn’t even move your hand in his.

“Did you eat today?” He asked, and the shrug you gave him (which was so small he wouldn’t have noticed it if he weren’t so attentive) was enough of an answer.

“Kind of,” You didn’t want him to know you hadn’t touched food in hours. You didn’t want any.

“If I made you a sandwich right now, would you eat it?” He checked hopefully, you usually loved his grilled cheese, and you often praised him because he always managed to make a sandwich taste good no matter what was left in your fridge. He tried not to sigh in defeat when you shook your head, doing his best to keep his mood up for you. “Okay,” He pushed himself back to his feet, his hand falling from yours as he went for the door.

Your brain screamed at you that this was it. Tito was a patient man but there was only so much he could take when you were emotionally unavailable. You couldn’t even hold a simple conversation. You ruined it. You were worthless, and now that Anthony was seeing it too he was about to leave you.

“Please don’t leave me,” You croaked out, weakly reaching after him in a moment of panic.

“What are you talking about?” He turned around and grasped your hand in his. “I’m never going to leave you,” He fell back to his knees by your side, reaching over to hug you. “I promise, I’m always going to be there for you,”

“I don’t want to be alone,” You rested your forehead against his shoulder, unable to bring yourself to wrap your arms around him.

“I’m here baby, I’m right here with you,” Anthony brushed your hair back and kept saying reassuring words to you, repeating them until he was sure you wouldn’t be able to doubt how much he meant them. “I’m not leaving, I love you.”

He slid into the bed with you, kicking his socks off his feet before pulling you against his chest tightly. His shirt was wet with your tears, and he clenched his jaw to hold back his own every time your sobs made your body jolt against his. He could never leave you. He couldn’t even bring himself to consider it for a second. He was more in love with you than he ever thought he would be and he knew he’d be by your side through absolutely anything.

You had been there for him on countless nights after games the team lost, or games where he beat himself up for not playing well enough because they scraped the win and if he didn’t mess up this or that earlier in the game everything would have been fine. You always lifted his mood, you pulled him out of his thoughts and he couldn’t help how much he smiled whenever you were with him.

He couldn’t express how much he wished he could put a smile back on your face right this second, but this wasn’t just disappointment over a game or a project. It was a deep rooted issues and an accumulation of stress he couldn’t even imagine himself dealing with. It was no wonder you had to crash at some point, but he wished he had caught onto the signs earlier to help you before you hit rock bottom.

“Is it okay if I get up for a minute?” He eventually murmured.

You had stopped crying, and your breathing was steady. You had even gone as far as placing a small kiss on his chest where your face was tucked.

“Yeah, yeah of course,” You let him pull away, coughing a little to clear your throat. You felt pathetic for keeping him there for so long just because you were too insecure to let him get to the living room without crying about him leaving you.

“I’ll be right back,” He promised as he rolled out of the bed.

When he walked back into your room, he was holding a bottle of your favorite smoothie. You liked to make them yourself, but when you couldn’t this was always your go to. Tito picked it up before coming in hope it would cheer you up a little if you were having a bad day. Now that he saw you were doing much worse than he had imagined, he hoped it would at least motivate you to put something in your stomach.

“I stopped by the store on my way here,” He explained to you when he noticed your questioning eyes. “Drink it for me?”

You pushed yourself to sit up, your stomach in knots. You weren’t hungry, but you could try for him. You took the open bottle from his hands and forced yourself to take a few sips. He sat on the edge of the bed, waiting and hoping the sugar would make you feel a little better, at least physically.

You handed him the bottle back soon after, most of the smoothie left untouched. He was about to say something, ask you to drink a little bit more, but you beat him to it.

“I’m really not hungry,” You gathered your pillow to your chest, slowly sliding back into the bed.

“That’s okay,” Anthony didn’t want to make you feel like you couldn’t make your own decisions. He didn’t know what you needed, he was just guessing. “Is there anything I can do?” He eventually asked.

“I don’t know why I feel like this,” You were exhausted physically and mentally, and even just speaking to him was draining in that moment. You only wanted to lay in your bed and cry until the pain stopped.

“You don’t have to explain,” He got comfortable on the bed too, sitting with his back against the headboard. “You’ll get through it, and I’ll be there for you in any way I can,”

“Thank you for coming over,” You crawled over to put your pillow in his lap and rest your head there.

“Always,” He placed his lips on your forehead and closed his eyes. “Do you want to just lay in bed for a while?”

“I don’t want to do anything,” You whispered, feeling him pull the covers tighter on your shoulders. “But then I think too much,”

“Okay, we can put some music on?” He tried to find a way to distract you from your thoughts. “Or I can read to you for a while,” Books on the shelves about your desk caught his attention. You had mentioned you couldn’t find time to read lately, and he wondered if you’d be up for it now.

“What book?” You turned your head to look up at him. It wasn’t much, but the small gleam in your eyes told him he took a step in the right direction.

“You can pick, or I’ll just grab anything that sounds good,” He suggested, leaving it open for you, and you lifted your head as you answered.

“I don’t mind any,” You let him slide out of the bed and quickly inspect the covers to make a choice.

A few seconds later he had resumed his original position and his knuckles gently ran over your cheek while his voice filled the room. He liked to think he was a decent reader. He wasn’t the best out there, but he didn’t really stammer on words and he kept a good rhythm to keep you interested in what he was saying.

What he didn’t know was that you couldn’t focus enough on the words to understand anything he said anyway. You didn’t mind, there was no need for you to understand, this was just filling the silence and the fact that he was there, taking care of you and reading to you, made your heart swell. You were terrified he’d leave, that he’d see how much of a mess you were and tell you he didn’t want to deal with that, yet here he was.

He spent ages repeating that he loved you to reassure you, he made sure you ate something, and he tried his best to ease your mind. You felt numb all over, everything was bland around you, but the one thing you still knew was that you were in love with Anthony. You could doubt how much you cared about your job, or even your own self. You could doubt your friendships and some family relationships, but you couldn’t doubt that you adored the man currently sitting on your bed, and you couldn’t doubt that he cared about you too.

He didn’t stop reading until he was absolutely sure you were asleep. His voice felt a little hoarse by that point, and he closed the book to place it on your nightstand, making sure not to wake you as he grabbed his phone.

.

“What are you doing?” You blinked your eyes open when you heard him move around your room. The bed was cold apart from where you were laying, so you knew he must have been up for a while.

“I’m just cleaning a little,” He put the shirt he was holding over the back of your chair.

“I can do it, I’m sorry it’s such a mess,” You sat up, immediately worrying about the state of your apartment. You knew it was a wreck, and you hated that he had to deal with it.

“No, no baby,” He shook his head and came to sit on the edge of the bed. “The kitchen, living room and bathroom are all tidy. I’m just going to fold your clothes and pick up whatever else is on the floor right now, and then I’ll hoover, okay?”

He wasn’t sure of what to do to help, but after a few minutes of research on his phone as you slept, he found a post saying cleaning your room for you or cooking would be a good idea. Since he was awful in the kitchen he settled for cleaning the entire apartment.

“You don’t have to do that, let me help you,” You protested, feeling lazy and useless while he did everything for you. It wasn’t fair to him. Your heart rate picked up, but Tito was quick to soothe you.

“If you want to get out of bed and do something, that’s great, but we’ll go for a walk or something, leave that up to me, please,” He kissed the top of your head. “I’m just hoping you’ll feel a little better once you don’t have to worry about taking care of your place,”

Tears welled up in your eyes from his words. Your forehead fell to his shoulder as you shut them tightly, trying to get control back over your body.

“Fuck,” You choked out, your chest shaking with a sob again.

All you did was cry today. Tito didn’t feel as panicked this time, slowly understanding how you were dealing with everything. You were just overwhelmed, and while hated to see you cry he knew that it was because he made you feel cared for.

“You’re going to have to start your own water bottle company soon with all those tears,” He tentatively cracked a joke.

He wasn’t sure if the sound that followed was just a louder sob or a real chuckle, but he took it as a good sign when you wrapped your arms around his torso and squeezed him against you. It was better than the apathy you had shown when he held you earlier, so he returned the embrace and kissed your temple.

“Everything is going to be okay, I promise,” He whispered soothingly when you pulled away, giving him a small nod while you rubbed the tears off your cheeks.

“I feel all gross,” You adjusted your sweater and sniffled. Your eyes were swollen from you trying to dry your tears when they wouldn’t stop falling, and you desperately needed to splash fresh water on your face.

“Do you want to take a shower or bath?” Tito asked you so that he could get the water running and make sure it was warm for when you got in.

“Shower,” You didn’t hesitate. You’d feel sluggish in a bath, it would make you more tired.

“Want me to come with and wash your hair?” He was almost sure you would, but he asked just to make sure. You weren’t the way you usually were, so you might have changed your mind.

“Yes please,” You nodded, taking his hand as you followed him to your bathroom.

Like he had said, everything was tidy. A new small towel was hanging by the sink, and all the other clean ones were neatly folded and organised underneath it. You picked up the faint smell of your cleaning products that he used to wipe every surface and make everything shiny. He really went all the way, and you could only guess he did the same thing in the kitchen.

You stripped while he started the water, his clothes on the floor next to yours. You still felt self conscious of your state, but in months of relationship Tito had done nothing but love every inch of your body, so you didn’t overthink it as you stepped into the shower after him.

“I don’t always understand how you feel, but I know it’s hard for you,” He gave your hand a squeeze as you made it under the stream of water. “I don’t want you to feel like I’m babying you, but it’s okay if you can’t bring yourself to do anything right now, I’ll take care of you,”

“I need that,” You nodded, resting your forehead on his chest as you let your hair get wet. It was hard to admit it to yourself, and even harder to say out loud. You thought you’d break down and cry again for a moment, but it seemed that all the tears had left your body already.

“I’ll help with absolutely anything you need me to,” Tito promised and adjusted the temperature to something a little bit hotter. “Let’s sit down, yeah?” He let you go first and then took his place behind you, shampoo and shower gel right by him. “Tilt your head back,” He asked as he poured the product into his hand.

You relaxed a little as he massaged your scalp, helping you disconnect from the rest of the world for a minute or two. The scent of soap slowly replaced the stuffy and slightly sweaty smell you had been living in for the past two days. You were still a mess of a person, but you could at least consider yourself half presentable after that.

How you felt on the inside almost always sucked, but you tried your hardest to keep up with appearances. It wasn’t even so that other people wouldn’t know, it was only for yourself, so that you could look in the mirror and think you were doing okay. It made it easier to convince yourself things were fine.

You didn’t spend too much time in the shower once Tito was done helping you wash your hair and body. He even got a smile out of you when his hands accidentally tickled your waist, and he beamed in response.

His smile lit your whole world up.

You held your towel tight around you when you got out, letting Tito get back to your room first. He came back in shorts he kept in your closet and one of the t-shirts you had stolen from him.

“Here,” Anthony handed you another one of his t-shirts (you had quite the collection) and some comfortable underwear he had picked out for you.

He was glad to find you brushing your hair and patting it with a towel as you stood in front of your mirror a few minutes later. At least you weren’t in bed anymore, and his heart soared when you gave him a small smile as you caught him staring at your reflection.

Instead of standing there like a moron, he decided to make himself useful and started pulling the sheets off your bed, piling them on the floor. You handed him some fresh ones from your closet as a replacement, your hair in a wet messy bun at the back of your head while you helped him adjust the fitted sheet over the mattress. You sat and began shoving your pillow into a pillowcase, and Tito didn’t argue with you helping him this time. He took the dirty laundry to your washing machine to make sure that by the time he left for practice tomorrow morning the apartment was spotless and you didn’t have to do a thing besides take care of yourself.

You made your bed and resisted the urge to get right back in it now that it smelled so lovely. You had to fight with yourself to get out of your room, so you opted for crashing on the couch in the living room instead. All of your blankets were neatly piled and you could see the plant on your coffee table had been watered. The dirty plates had been taken away to the kitchen, and everything was in place.

“I’m going to order some food,” Tito came to sit next to you a few minutes later. He handed you his phone as he added, “Pick anything you want.”

“I’m not that hungry,” You scrolled aimlessly, looking up at him because you didn’t want to have to get anything.

“Pick.” He gave you a stern look that left no room for discussion. “I’m not going to make you eat it all, but I’m not letting you go to sleep on a empty stomach tonight,” He had a feeling you had done it the previous night already, and it wasn’t going to happen again on his watch.

You eventually settled for a burger and decided you could just pick at the chips. Tito seemed satisfied with what you added to the cart and picked his own food before also ordering ice cream. It was one of your favorite flavours, so even if you didn’t want it tonight he was sure you’d be happy to have it in your freezer one of these days.

“Cuddles and a movie?” The corners of your lips lifted slightly as you suggested the plans he had been wanting to make with you for tonight.

“Sure,” He chuckled, grabbing the remote and turning the TV on. “Anything you want to watch?”

“Just want to cuddle,”

“Okay,” He opened Netflix and clicked on Brooklyn nine-nine to pick it up wherever you had left it last time. It was unarguably one of the best shows out there according to both of you, so it would be good to watch it again and he also wouldn’t mind if he missed bits and pieces of it.

Tito leaned back on the couch and spread his legs, patting his body to invite you to lay on him.

“Thank you for being patient,” You whispered as you settled yourself on his chest. “I love you,”

“I love you more than you’ll ever know.” Tito rested a hand on your back and slowly traced lines up and down your spine. Tonight was all about taking care of you and he knew you loved it when he did that, so he’d do it until his arm cramped up if he had to. He even let your hair soak his shirt without a complaint despite how much he always hated the feeling. “Whatever’s going on with you, I’ll be there to help you through it, always.”

.

Please reblog and share some thoughts <3

Also wanted to add a little note here:

I know this made it look like the reader is quite dependent on Tito, and that’s always pretty toxic in a relationship. I didn’t mean to make it look like that, but I also don’t feel like rewriting the fic differently. I feel like that on some days, and while I can pull myself out of it alone (mostly because I have to) I know there’s some things that could help me. Cleaning my room feels impossible right now and if someone did that right now it would ease my mind a lot, so that’s why I pictured things that way in the fic.

[edenwritessomething]

Heyyyy bestie

What is your ocs smile like? And answer everything if you'd like to, Id love to hear about your ocs ❤️

(and drink some water and eat something if you haven't, please)

sorry this took so long, i caught a cold and used every spare second to sleep 🤡 as we agreed, i'm gonna do this (all prompts) for shahrazad. i also just drank water and took my meds, thanks for the reminder <3

shahrazad

👁 What is your OC’s eye color? Do they have any eye-related habits, like winking or rubbing their eyes? Do other people tend to notice their eyes?

Shahrazad has brown eyes. They're nothing special, but look very pretty in the sun. It's not the first thing people notice about her, but it's somewhere up there, because she has big eyes. As for eye-related habits, she squints and cries a lot :D

✋ Are your OC’s hands smooth, rough, or average? Why? How do they keep their nails? Do they bite them, paint them, neatly trim them, et cetera?

Oh, definitely smooth. Girlie never had to hold a single thing in her life, let alone work. Even her sister has rougher hands because she weaves, Shahrazad doesn't use her hands at all. She doesn't pay special attention to her nails, but her maids have a whole routine for her she doesn't even know about. So they're well tended for, but she doesn't know about it.

🦵 Are your OC’s arms and legs strong, weak, or average? Why? Do they have any common mannerisms that involve their limbs, such as tapping their foot or fiddling with their fingers?

As said, she doesn't do any physical work at all, so she isn't particularly strong. Her arms are especially weak, her legs are probably average because she walks an okay amount. Depending on the situation she either has her hands folded or arms crossed. If she's thinking, she sits cross-legged.

👄 What is your OC’s smile like? Is it bright and wide, or thin and reserved? Does your OC wear any lipgloss or lipstick? Do they chew their lips?

Depends, I guess. She has a reserved smile, kinda sweet, for when her father's got guests or she's doing public appearances. And then there's the big, genuine smile when she's around trusted people (aka Noah). She doesn't wear any lipgloss/lipstick, cus it's not available to her, but she totally would. She bites the inside of her lower lip when she's thinking.

👤 What is your OC’s skin like? Is it unblemished, or are they prone to breakouts? Do they have any scars, tattoos, or other skin markings? Does their skin tend to be sensitive to things that get on it (lotions, cleaning products, etc.)?

As said, she has people doing her skincare for her, so it's pretty darn clear 'without effort' (at least not from her). Despite that (because of that? idk im not a dermatologist) her skin isn't sensitive. She definitely has beauty marks too.

💇 What is your OC’s hairstyle? How do they maintain their hair? Do they wash it and/or cut it regularly? Have they ever dyed their hair?

Shahrazad has brown, wavy hair that she usually leaves open. It flows nicely and reaches her waist. Once more, there is a hair care routine she isn't aware of. It's taken very good care of, she just doesn't see the work that goes into it. This includes regular washing and trims when necessary. And, no, she has't dyed her hair.

🦷 Does your OC brush their teeth regularly? Do they tend to eat foods that get stuck in your teeth?

For the second question, yes, absolutely. There are no limits to what she eats, but she's a sucker for meat. She doesn't 'brush her teeth' in the sense we'd consider today, but she 100% uses one of these bad bitches:

👖 What type of clothing does your OC generally wear? Why? Do they have any “signature” accessories?

As for colours, in my notes I've written 'deep blue, pink, red and gold'. (Each colour is a symbol for smth, but yknow). As for style, well, kaftans and stuff like that... Just take outfit inspo pls, i can't describe:

👀 What is the first physical feature people notice when they see your OC? Why?

If it's uncovered, her hair, because it's so rich. Otherwise her mouth (full lips), then eyes (big). When she's doing her story-telling, she wears a niqab-like dress, so obviously you can only see her eyes, so that's the first thing you notice.

🪞 How does your OC perceive themself? Do they believe themself to be attractive, unattractive, or average? Does their view of themself affect their self-esteem, or are they unbothered by their physical appearance? (If your OC does have things they’re confident or insecure about, what are they?)

She'd never objectively consider herself ugly because she looks like her mother, whom she looked up to. However subconsciously she has internalized thoughts like this, simply because she hasn't managed to get married. There's nothing she's insecure about in particular, she's just insecure.

[aricazorel]

"When everything is wrong, it's you that makes it right." prompt

pairing: Kaidan Alenko x Rebecca Shepard; set during ME3; word count: 1310

“Hey, EDI? Where is Shepard?” Kaidan Alenko asked as he rode the elevator from the Docking Bay to the CIC. “Cortez said she came back from the council meeting, but no one’s seen her since.”

“The Commander took a call from Admiral Hackett in the QEC and then left without stopping until she reached her quarters, Major,” the AI informed him. “I am not certain she is in a good state of mind.”

Kaidan inclined his head. “Meaning?”

“Her biometric readings are consistent with someone who is greatly stressed. Possibly distraught.”

Without inquiring further the L2 asked, “EDI, can you take me to the loft instead of the CIC? My report can wait to be filed later.”

“Of course, Major Alenko,” she replied with what Kaidan would have labeled relief if he didn't know better.

“Thanks.”

One minute later the doors open to the loft’s deck as EDI said, “I will have all communication and related items filtered to those who can address them. Unless there is an emergency you and the Commander will not be disturbed.”

“Thanks again, EDI.”

“You are welcome.”

And with that Kaidan was left alone standing at the door to Shepard's cabin. He pushed the door chime and waited.

No answer.

He waited a few more second and made a second attempt, this time identifying who he was. Still no response.

Part of him said he should wait to be let in. But the other part said to use the keycode she had given him. The latter part one out. Quickly entering the all too familiar numbers, the date of the Eden Prime mission began, the Major stepped through the door as soon as it opened. He was greeted by an empty space.

He frowned until he heard the shower running from the bathroom to his right. He let out a sigh of relief as he walked over to the desk area. Reports and data pads scattered around. Shaking his head he quickly made neat piles of them by subject and then made his way to the living area.

Cleaning up more data pads, clothes, books, and random items, the major hoped such a small act might help her just a little bit. is attention turned to the bed. A mess as usual. He quickly straightened it up, folding back the covers. Hoping it looked inviting enough for Shepard to possibly lay down in and get some shuteye. Even if it were just for an hour.

In the meantime, he grabbed the datapad concerning the council and Hackett’s latest requests. Walking over to one of the reclining chairs, he made himself at home in it while he waited for Shepard. As he skimmed the summary of both briefings, it quickly became apparent why she had hid herself away. While he had been taking care of some tasks for her which his Specter status allowed him, she had been piled with more responsibilities, more request, more reminders that time was running out.

As if the crew of the Normandy and it’s captain didn't realize that. They were constantly on the front lines and sometimes beyond it. Trying to gather the resources they needed for the Crucible at the same time they were dealing with old rivalries as they sought allies. Anyone else would have said to hell with it and demanded the responsibilities be forced onto some someone else. But not Rebecca Shepard.

Becca knew the stakes all too well. It was personal. Hell, she'd even died once ensuring her crew lived. She didn't know how to walk away from such responsibility, especially with the knowledge and experience of the past four years she carried with her. As Garrus had once put it, she just wasn't built that way.

As admirable as that was, it left the people she defended safer but the Commander drained. Or more accurately feeling guilty and responsible for things she couldn't and shouldn't take responsibility for. It was a strength and a weakness at the same time. It was something Kaidan had learned to look for early on during the Eden Prime mission. Something he continued to watch for now and hoped his presence on the SR-2 helped ease her stress. He was more than willing to take the brunt of it. After Horizon, he'd made the promise to himself to listen and think before responding even if he were mad. Even if she were mad. He would hear her and give her the benefit of the doubt.

Kaidan closed his eyes as he took a breath. Commander Shepard was still a living and breathing person. She still had doubts and fears. Dreams and hopes. People tended to forget that. He knew he had in the heat of the moment on Horizon. Now. Here on the SR-2, he wanted more than ever to be a buffer between her troubles and her sanity. He wanted to be her soft place to land. He wanted her to know she was Becca to him and not just the Commander.

And at that moment, using his Specter status to delegate things to others who could help either more efficiently or faster was a start. He opened his eyes and set to work on the datapad doing just that. Not all of the requests from the Council and Hackett had to be handled by Shepard personally. Nowhere did it say she couldn't have help. She was notorious for recruiting unlikely sources of aid so why shouldn't this be any different? Truthfully, the only difference would be that the orders were signed by Specter Alenko instead of Specter Shepard.

The quiet sound of the bathroom door sliding open and shut shook the Major from his thoughts. He glanced up as he heard bare feet pad across the cabin’s deck plates. As she rounded the display case featuring her collection of ships Shepard paused at the top of the steps. Green eyes met his whiskey brown ones as she tilted her head in confusion. The Sentinel gave her a lopsided grin and a shrug.

Shepard returned his grin with a halfhearted one of her own. He watched as she walked slowly over towards him, her gait sluggish. He was about to say something as she came to stand by him moving to get up. She shook her head no as she moved to sit in the chair beside him. Or so he thought.

Instead Becca nudged aside the datapad and curled up in his lap, her head resting on his chest. As she snuggled against him, Kaidan automatically wrapped his arms around her. He tucked her head under his chin, her hair damp from the shower. She smelled of the floral shampoo she used. Another thing that had not changed from the SR-1 days.

Shepard remained quiet as he felt her relax against him. He let her have her quiet time, knowing it was rare for her to feel comfortable to let her guard completely down. He was only too happy that he could make her feel safe enough to do that with him. He began stroking her long red hair in an effort to lull her to sleep. Even if it were for just a little while.

“Kaidan.” His name was barely above a whisper.

“Becca, you should rest.”

“I will but you being here,” she said quietly, her hand moving to rest over his heart. “When everything is wrong, it's you that makes it right.”

“I'll do anything to make it right, sweetheart,” Kaidan assured her as he kissed the crown of her head. “Whatever you need.”

“I need you …and everyone else to fuck off for just a little bit,” she murmured into his chest. She glanced up at him with a genuine smile. “But I mostly need you.”

“I'm here Becca,” he said as he kissed her sweetly. “And I’m not going anyway. I promise.”

[fvrxdrm]

City of the Living Dead

Chapter 1

“Y/N, wake up!”

Carlos yelled at you to wake you up and shook your still sleeping form violently. Your eyes abruptly shot open after hearing his full-throated voice, your E/C orbs immediately landing on the face of the man hovering above you. 

You scanned his face, still not fully aware of your surroundings due to your sleepiness but as time went on and your brain had sobered up a bit, you noticed that he didn’t look calm and balmy like how he usually was, he looked...agitated which mirrored the way he shouted at you.

“Carlos?” You muttered, your mouth barely opening as the rest of your body  was still putting itself together.

“Come on. We gotta get out of here”, Carlos said as he unlatched all of the metal straps holding you down onto your bed using the computer that was situated on a wooden desk a few feet away from you.

“What? Why? What’s going on?” You asked, confused as to why the soldier was jittery all of a sudden.

You forced yourself to sit up with both of your hands aiding you as you struggled to do the simple action. It had been a long time since you’ve done it anyway. Those stupid scientists would not let you.

“Would you believe me if I told you that a zombie apocalypse is happening?”

Now that woke you up.

“What?”

Zombie apocalypse? How’d that happen? Don’t those things happen in like movies or something?

“The city’s in total chaos. Don’t know how it happened but it is... Listen, we’re the only two left in here. The rest of our team members are looking for other survivors and something we could use to get out of here”, Carlos replied as he draped your arm around his shoulders and wrapped one of his own around your waist to help you stand up since your legs felt like jelly at that moment.

“What about my sister?” You questioned, remembering that your sister was taken with you.

“I haven’t seen your sister yet so I guess her bodyguard helped her out”

“Do you know who her bodyguard is?”

“No. Those information are also confidential for some unknown reason. Can you walk?” 

“I think so”, you slowly slid your arm off of Carlos’ shoulders as you carefully took a few steps to your right side, Carlos’ arm still not leaving your waist until he was sure that you got the hang of it.

“Alright, I’m ready”, you spoke after a few seconds of finding your balance.

“Not quite. You still need to change your clothes. Wouldn’t want to go out in the wild like that, would we?” Carlos uttered as he gestured his hand towards your skimpy hospital gown that had a deep v going dangerously down below your breasts, showing off your cleavage.

Why the fuck is my gown this revealing?

“Right. Where will I get some clothes?”

“I think we got some in the locker room”

“Okay, let’s go then”

“Come on, I’ll lead the way”, Carlos motioned for you to follow him as he opened the white door, looking back towards where you were to make sure that you were trailing right behind him.

*****

“We’re here”

Carlos swiped the key card that he had been holding onto since he entered your room into the key slot located on the right side of the locker room’s door and waited until the light beside the slot turned green before pushing the metal door open.

“Ladies first”, Carlos spoke with a smile as he raised his arm towards the room that was full of lockers (duh) and some benches, his free hand still placed on the door to keep it from slamming pancakes into your faces.

“It better not be to check out my ass”, you snickered as you strolled inside the room, immediately checking every locker in hopes of getting some new clothes to change into ‘cause the hospital gown you were wearing was a fashion no-no.

“Nah. I’m too manly to do that”, Carlos said back as he followed you inside, closing the door right behind him after doing so.

“What a gent”

“I tend to be”

Carlos helped in finding you new clothes, searching lockers after lockers until he finally found a plain black tank top, a (F/C) (sports/balconette/demi/whatever you like) bra, a pair of ripped black denim shorts, a denim jacket, and a pair of black combat boots.

Perfect.

“Hey, Y/N, I got something that might fit you”, Carlos mouthed aloud as he held the neatly folded clothes with both hands right in front of you.

“Thanks”

You quickly grabbed the clothes that were placed on top of his palms before entering the small area that was covered by a white curtain.

“So, what’s the plan, hero?” You asked the mop-headed soldier in order to break the slightly awkward silence that filled the room as you changed into the new clothes that Carlos found as quickly as possible. 

“Like I said, my teammates are looking for something we could use to get the hell out of here but they sure are taking their sweet time”, Carlos replied as he shook his head, his back turned to where you were as if he could see your naked body through the curtain even though he could literally only see your silhouette. What an actual gentleman.

“What’s it like up there?”

“A shit-hole. This place is full of zombies and shit. There’s also this giant-ass dude just roaming around. You wouldn’t wanna see it”

“But I have to if I want to get out of here”

“Yeah... Listen, once we get out of this facility, you stay right behind me. Wouldn’t want you to get lost”, you chuckled at his remark, your head shaking a bit as you did so.

He’s like an over-protective big brother or something.

“How would I get lost in this place? I mean, I grew up here in Illinois. I basically know every twists and turns in this place”, you said as you put the pair of shorts on, making sure that the bottom of your tank top was tucked inside your trousers. 

Unseen by you, though, Carlos’ face fell as he heard those words come out of your mouth.

Shit, she doesn’t know?

“Y/N...”

“Yeah?”

“You’re not in Illinois”

Your heart dropped.

Your hands stopped tugging on your jacket and your eyes widened by themselves as you stood still, frozen in place.

“What?” You finally spoke after a minute of silence as you practically yanked the curtain open and stepped out of the tiny space, your eyebrows furrowing together in confusion as you stomped towards the man.

“Y/N, you’re in Raccoon City. Did nobody tell you that”, Carlos said as he turned around to face you, his face mirroring the look you were giving him.

“No”, you shook your head from one side to another as you said that one word to emphasize what you were saying since you were not sure if he had heard you at all for the reason that your voice sounded barely above a whisper as you spoke.

You stayed silent, taking in the newfound information you got from the male right in front of you.

Your brain scrambled a million thoughts together as bewilderment flooded inside your head. But even so, one question kept nagging you every time you woke up on top of the leather-topped bed you were placed and strapped on.

“How long was I in here?” You asked.

You were nervous as hell for some unknown reason but you were itching to know the answer.

What if I was in here for like a month? Are my friends worried?

Slowly, your heart began to pound in your chest, the sound becoming louder and louder until you could hear its hammering ringing inside your ears. You were starting to think that Carlos could hear the anxiety you were feeling even though you didn’t let it out verbally.

Please don’t be too long, please don’t be too long...

“One year”, Carlos finally responded after a few seconds of heavy silence.

Your heart dropped into your stomach again and you sure as hell heard it shatter into a million pieces after hearing those words come right out of his mouth.

“One year?”

“Yeah... Hey, don’t cry. Your pretty face might get ruined”, Carlos said as he wiped the stray tear that you didn’t even notice away with his calloused thumb and attempted to comfort you but it was no use. Your heart broke at those two words.

One year? That’s how long I was gone? That’s even worst than a month! How the hell was I missing for that long!?

“Hey, don’t worry. I’ll make sure to bring you back to Illinois. If it makes you feel a bit more at ease, I snatched this bracelet and this necklace from Dr. Birkin’s office. Thought these might be really important to you”, Carlos spoke again as he took out a customized bracelet with your friend’s name on it and a silver necklace that had a(n) (birthstone) stone attached into a metal framing from one of his pockets.

You gently took the bracelet from his hand before reading the four letters that were written on each tiny cube bead. 

Leon

God, how is he feeling right now? 

You wondered. 

Out of all the friends you’ve had, Leon was the most over-protective of them all. You didn’t know why he was like that but you were kind of glad that someone genuinely cared about you even though most of the time it was the cause of your arguments.

You see, you and Leon have been best friends since birth and so were both of your mothers. For some reason, your mother and his decided that it would be a good idea to get pregnant at the same time and then BOOM! You and Leon were born.

I’m so sorry, Leon.

“Hey, I don’t know who this Leon kid is but don’t worry, I’ll bring you back to him, too”, Carlos uttered out loud as if he could read your own random thoughts. He circled around you to place your necklace around your neck, making sure that he wouldn’t snip even a tiny part of your skin as he clasped the hooks together. You smiled.

“Thanks, Carlos. I owe you one”

“No problem, kiddo. That’s what friends are for, right?”

Yeah, and you were glad that you had one in that hell-hole of a facility you were in.

---***---

Ayo! Chapter 1, wuz good?! I'm sorry this was kind of rushed. I was busy with dance and all that stuff🤣

Anyways, how was it? Did you like it? Did you not?

[chilling-seavey]

Passchendaele - Frances’ Birth Story

A/N I should probably not post like nineteen things on one day but I was in the writing zone so who cares. Take all my things. Who is going to say no to the first Besson baby? Certainly not me.

A/N2 Also, this one is for my Corbyn stans...you’re welcome ;)

Warnings: Not too in-depth descriptions of labour and delivery compared to my other birth stories but there’s some still. 

April 17, 1916

Corbyn was arguably born to be a father and despite the raging war that was going on around them, he and his brand-new wife wanted nothing more than to start a family as soon as they possibly could. Without the looming fear of him being called back to the front lines, they were set and married within weeks of him returning home and a couple weeks after that, they were expecting.

Being 1916, they wouldn’t know if they were having a boy or a girl until the baby was delivered but no matter how many times his wife asked what he wanted, Corbyn wouldn’t answer. He wanted both honestly.

Also being 1916, midwives would arrive to the home to help through labour and delivery and men were often ushered out of the room to wait until the baby was born. Corbyn, a young man who had the combination of genuine paternal instincts, being a protective husband, and being someone who studied and was fascinated by science, refused to simply wait in the parlour. He sat right at the bedside as his wife laboured, bringing her tea and damp cloths to cool her down, all while the midwife watched in surprise at his every action.

Christine laboured a while for her first pregnancy from around noon into the early hours of the following morning and she reached a point where she was completely defeated. Corbyn didn’t falter once however, and his energy stayed with him through the entire process, working her through contractions and offering her sips of water all while being her personal encourager, whispering loving reassurances against her ear and excited words against her swollen stomach.

Of course, he made sure to telephone his mother and Christine’s mother to share the news and deliver updates as the labour progressed – even up to midnight until his sister answered the phone and yelled at him to stop bothering them unless it was something actually important to share.

Soon, the midwife had Christine resting back on the bed in their room, still in only her nightgown but that was already nearly sweat through even after being changed into clean ones every few hours. Corbyn returned from the kitchen – where he had just been politely and gently told by his mother on telephone to only call again when the baby is born – and found his spot back beside his wife. He set his hand on her stomach with a soft smile before glancing down at her flushed face.

“Not long now.”

“You’ve been saying that for hours. I’m awfully exhausted.” Christine mumbled.

“Well he’s right.” the midwife said, sitting back from having been checking out the status of the mother-to-be, “You’re progressing nicely and baby should be here very soon.”

“Christ…about time.” Christine breathed.

Her nose scrunched up with the onset of another contraction and Corbyn pet her dark hair back from her face, tying it back in a clip from the bedside table and left a sweet kiss to her temple. She grabbed a handful of his shirt as she tried to breathe through it.

“I’ve bloody had enough of this!” Christine gasped out of the contraction, reaching up to swipe the back of her hand over her sweaty forehead. “I want this baby out!”

After three more steady contractions, it was time for delivery and the midwife pushed up the bottom of the mother-to-be’s nightgown and got her legs spread. Corbyn stood right at the bedside, helping prop her up a little on a few pillows before offering his hand for her to grip onto.

“Whenever you’re ready, dear.” the midwife instructed.

Corbyn’s gaze was locked on his wife, watching carefully as she took a deep breath and started to push. Her groan was loud and her grip tightened on his hand but he just watched her in complete awe.

“Good job. Again.” the midwife said.

She took another breath and bore down, clenching her jaw through it as she put all her effort into her pushes. She was surprisingly quiet and she didn’t scream much, putting out her agony into her husband’s hand and her strained whimpers. After nearly 24 hours of labour, she was tired and simply wanted it to be over with. When Christine had a moment to breathe, Corbyn took his hand from hers to brush her hair back from her face and kissed her forehead before sliding around to the end of the bed.

“Corbyn.” Christine said softly, warningly.

“It’s okay.” Corbyn waved her off excitedly as he peered over the midwife’s shoulder to get a good look. “That’s bloody incredible.”

“Isn’t it?” the midwife smiled.

“Is that the head?” Corbyn pointed between his wife’s legs.

“Corbyn!” Christine sighed tiredly, holding her hand to her face. “May you please stop playing scientist for one moment?”

“It’s so interesting, darling! I can see our baby!” Corbyn smiled calmly, reaching out a hand to brush softly over the damp bulge that was poking out between her legs.

“Corbyn, please.”

“Alright, alright.” Corbyn shuffled back up to the bedside and pulled her hand back into his. He leaned down to kiss her lips quickly but she only groaned in slight distaste as her body had her pushing again. Corbyn shifted his other hand to rest behind her back to help keep her propped up in more of a sitting position, his eyes peering down to watch, “There you go!”

“Good girl, Christine. Take a breath and we’ll do it just like that.” the midwife encouraged.

“Just like that, sweetheart!” Corbyn repeated.

Christine dropped his hand to grab onto the sheets as she bore down again through a strained groan and Corbyn moved right in to grab her thigh and hold her leg open. His eyes were flicking between her face and the baby being born as if not knowing where he wanted to look – at his brave wife or at the incredibly natural work of science that was going on in his very own bedroom. He watched with wide eyes as the head was born with a loud shriek from his wife, his hand on her back only rubbing soft comforting stripes that didn’t do much to assist her.

“Give me more of that, dear!” the midwife said, getting her hands securely under the baby’s head as Christine took a shaky inhale and pushed again, fisting the sheets in her hands and scrunching her eyes closed through it.

“Christ almighty!” she squeaked as she heaved a breath, grabbing onto the material of Corbyn’s shirt with her one hand for the last little bit, forcing out all the effort she had left in her to deliver their first baby.

Corbyn watched in awe as his daughter was born into the world, his smile only growing 15 sizes larger at the sight of the goopy, patchy, freshly born baby as she let out her first cry. The midwife set her right up on her mother’s chest and Christine gasped as she instinctively wrapped her arms around the baby, not minding that her pale nightgown was stained in blood and other fluids from the delivery.

“Oh, a baby girl!” Christine cried, tears of joy trickling down her cheeks. She rocked the baby softly and pressed a kiss to her head before looking up at her husband. “A baby girl, Corbs.”

Corbyn couldn’t even speak, staring down at their daughter and his beautiful wife and he just couldn’t talk over his proud smile.

With the placenta delivered, Corbyn jumped at the chance to cut the chord, slicing carefully through it like he was the proud owner of a whole new opportunity. And, really, he was.

“I must say, in all my years I have never seen a husband so interested in the birthing process.” the midwife said lightly.

“That’s my man for you.” Christine laughed tiredly, reaching out her free hand that wasn’t holding the baby to find her husband’s. “My scientist.”

“Hardly a scientist, love.” Corbyn chuckled bashfully as he laced their fingers together.

The midwife only smiled between them before taking the baby to be diapered and swaddled and Corbyn followed closely behind her across the room to watch her every move – and to keep an eye on his baby.

When the baby was wrapped up, Corbyn was finally able to hold her for the first time while the midwife helped Christine to clean up and to change the bed for her. He carefully scooped up the fussing newborn and laid her in his arms, with soft shushing that came with nothing but practice of tending to children. He leaned down to press a kiss to her head and walked carefully across the room to the chair by the bay window. The women tended to the recovery while Corbyn sat overlooking the sunrise but was only captivated by the baby in his arms.

She blinked sleepily up at him, her brown eyes shimmering in the orange sun that leaked in through the window, and her tiny fingers opened and closed haphazardly under the fold of the blanket she was wrapped in. Corbyn was absolutely beaming with pride, his joy nearly radiating off of him and that only doubled tenfold as he set his pinky against her palm and she wrapped her little fingers around his one.

Corbyn found it hard to put her down – even to let her be fed once Christine was settled and resting again – but soon, when the midwife was gone and Christine was taking a bit of time to catch up on some sleep, he had the baby to himself. The telephone was his first stop, connecting to his mother first to share the news.

“A baby girl, Ma. I have a daughter!” he said through the mouthpiece. “Frances Mae.”

“Just like my middle name?” his sister asked in surprise as she was pressed up right next to her mother on the other line to hear him as well.

“You bet, Ash. Named her after you.”

After the call with his mother and sister, he called Christine’s parents for a quick conversation, and then finally rang Daniel.

“Hello?” his mother answered like usual, slightly surprised to receive a telephone call at barely 7am.

“Good morning, Mrs. Seavey. It’s Corbyn. Is Daniel awake?”

“I’m afraid not, Corbyn. Can I take a message?”

“Actually, ma’am, I would greatly appreciate it if you would wake him up for me. I have some very important news.”

“Alright. Give me a moment.”

Corbyn waited with bated breath, biting back his overwhelming grin of excitement until Daniel would come answer. He took a while to come to the phone and Corbyn was getting ready to absolutely burst if he didn’t tell someone else right away.

But soon, there was a shuffle through the line and Daniel’s sleepy voice came through, “Corbyn?”

“Daniel! Oh, it is so good to hear your voice.” Corbyn gushed.

“What is the matter?” Daniel asked quietly, his anxiousness apparent in his voice, especially knowing that Corbyn almost never called on the telephone; only wrote him.

“Christine delivered this morning, Daniel. I have a baby. A baby girl.”

There was a pause.

“Oh.” Daniel said gently. “That’s really great. Congratulations. How is she?”

Daniel’s melancholies weren’t unusual so it didn’t phase Corbyn who simply glanced down at the sleeping newborn tucked in the crook of his arm, her tiny lips pouted and her chubby cheeks dusted in pink and topped with her long lashes resting peacefully.

Corbyn only smiled wider, if that was even possible, answering his friend with a soft, “She’s absolutely perfect.”

[xfandomwritingsx]

The Sweet of Night – Loki Laufeyson – Part 5

-gif source unknown-

Description: After growing up besides Loki and having a complicated friendship with him, you visit him in his cell at night.  

Warnings/Labels: Overbearing mother? Is that a warning?

Approx. Word Count: 2,700

Story Masterpost

Flowers in hand, you knock on the large wooden door of your mother’s home. It’s a quaint little cottage in one of the nearby villages. She had moved into it shortly after your father passed despite still being offered a place in the palace. While you missed seeing her daily, it didn’t surprise you that she declined and ventured into her own little home. The quiet, common life simultaneously suited her while making her feel important.

“My daughter!” she greets warmly as she opens the door. Her once golden hair, now slowly melting into white, is tied into an elegant braid draped over the front of her shoulder. “What brings you by?” she asks as though you don’t visit her the same time every week. You smile anyways as she pulls you into a hug which you return. “So beautiful!” She takes the bundle of flowers from your hands. “Come in! I have tea almost ready.” Her robe is a dull, dirty beige color and it always humors you how even with the extravagant and expensive silk robes in her closet, she chooses the most drab clothing for her daily life.

“Mother, you don’t even like tea,” you laugh.

“Ah, but you do!” she points her finger at you and then shuffles you to the table. “So,” she sighs happily as she puts the flowers in an already prepared vase in the center of lace table cloth. “What have you been up to?” You sit as she disappears behind a doorway to her kitchen where you hear her bothering with the tea pot and cups. She comes back quickly and arranges the dishes neatly on the table.

“Just work, Mother.” You know she’s going to ignore your tone. It clearly portrays that you know the real question she’s asking, the one she’s about to ask directly, and that you have no interest in answering. She’s going to ask anyways. It’s what she does. According to her, it’s what every good mother does.

“Not seeing anyone special?” The expected question causes an unexpected squeeze in your ribcage, but you manage to hide it well.

“No, Mother.” You use the same drawn out, placating tone you always use and reach for a tea cup.

“Shame,” she hums, passing you the honey.

“How’s your garden doing?” you ask quickly before she can press further. “It looks like it’s thriving.” She throws a look over her shoulder at the window as if to peer out at it.

“It’s doing well. The children are taking very good care of it.” You smile warmly at her. For all her faults, the woman has always been generous. She regularly pays young children to tend her garden and then usually gives away most of the produce. “The little one, Alistair, he’s quite dedicated.” You sip your tea and nod. “You know, his father is Lord Devereux.” She raises a brow at you and you sigh, setting your tea back down, already sensing where this is going. “Lord Devereux’s eldest son is of age now.” She pauses for merely a moment. “He would make a fine suitor.”

“Mother!” you exclaim, not sure if you’re irritated or amused at this point. “His son is much younger than I!”

“Yes, but he’s of age! And a younger man will certainly ensure he’ll be around long enough to take care of you.” She leans back in her chair and crossing her legs, shrugging. “Plus… think of his stamina.” Your eyes widen and if you’d had tea in your mouth, your sputtering would have sent it all over her table.

“Mother!” She laughs at your outburst and picks dust from the lace cloth.

“Oh, come now!” She always manages to scold you with a smile on her face. “You should at least meet with the boy.”

“The very fact that you’ve referred to him as a boy leads me to believe I should do no such thing.” The woman is relentless and perhaps a little delusional, but she never fails to makes you laugh at the insanity she brings forth.

“When was the last time you were out with a suitor?” she pries. You squint your eyes and look upwards as though thinking deeply.

“Well,” you ponder. “It was roughly two days after the last feast.” Her eyes widen with intrigue and she leans forward.

“Really? With whom?” Her genuine excitement causes laughter to bubble within you.

“Warrior Patrick! You arranged a dinner!”

“Oh,” she shies away with a smile.

“Perhaps you should stop trying to arrange suitors if you’re forgetting every match you’ve tried to make.” You go back to drinking your tea and watch her fluster.

“I wouldn’t have to make so many matches if you weren’t so stubborn.” She sits back with a huff. “You must have gotten that from your father.”

“Obviously, because you clearly still have yours.” You both take a moment and crumble into laughter at one another. When the giggles subside, she reaches across the table for your hand and you allow her to take it.

“Oh my daughter,” she sighs. “I just want to make sure that before I pass, I know you’re going to be taken care of.” You open your mouth to retort, but she stops you. “I want you to have more than I did. I want you to marry wealthy and have not a care in the galaxy. I want my grandkids to grow up lavishly.” Her fingers rub gently over your hand and when she looks up at you, her eyes glisten with the threat of tears. “I want you to be more than okay.” Your heart softens and you place your other hand over hers.

“Mother,” You squeeze her hand. “Rushing me off into the arms of the man with the wealthiest pockets isn’t going to make me okay. I want more than riches and gold gowns. I want love, passion, a man who makes me feel something other than obligation. And if I’m to have children, I want their father to be a man on honor.” You give a small smile and roll your eyes. “Half the noblemen are barely fit to be a good husband, let alone a good father.” She pats underneath her eyes with the pads of her free fingers, dabbing away at any stray tears that may have fallen. “When I find a man, you’ll be the first to know.”

“Well I’d better!” She smiles and retracts her hand. “And I refuse to die until I see you married. Though I suppose if you chose a middle class gentlemen, that would be alright too.” You manage to withhold your eye roll but let you smile out. “Better than some of the women in this village, pining after downright criminals!” She narrows her eyes in disgust and shakes her head, but you find your breath caught in your throat again.

“Yes well, no pining for criminals here.” Did your voice waver? You aren’t certain. If it had, your mother shows no signs of noticing, for which you are very grateful. She starts prattling on about how some of the women talk and some of their men. You choose to stay quiet and finish your tea. Best not to risk any more oddities in your untrustworthy voice.

---

“You seem tense,” Loki observes. You’ve been sitting in the chair Decimus provided for quite some time now, but your body has yet to relax into it. Before you can deny it, he continues. “As long as your habits haven’t changed, I would assume you’ve visited your mother this morning.” You scoff at your own predictability. “What did dear Penelope do now?”

“You know she would have you hanged if she heard you address her like that?” You raise an eyebrow at him, but can’t quite muster the energy to hide your amusement.

“Well, lucky for me then that I’m not high on her list of visits to make.” He leans forward in his own chair which has been pushed further towards the barrier tonight. “So what did our Madam Healer do now?” You give a short roll of your eyes.

“Nothing new. She’s still trying to marry me off to the highest bidder.” He grimaces and you realize your words are perhaps a bit harsher than they should have been. “She means well,” you defend. “She just doesn’t quite understand there’s more to my happiness than a title and wealth.” Another sharp roll of your eyes and a hard, bitter stare at the nearest wall. “Stars forbid I ever get involved with someone less than well off and apparently it would be an utter disgrace to marry a criminal.” You’d learned she is quite quick to harshly judge those men who may not have followed the law to the letter. The thought of her bittiness towards them angers you.

“Was that a proposal?” Loki teases after a short silence. It takes you a moment you put together his question with your statement and your eyes widen, suddenly in a panic.

“Of course not!” You feel heat rise into your face as he bares his teeth in a wide smile. “I would not propose to you!” He shrugs.

“Well if you’re expecting one from myself, I regret to inform you I don’t have access to a selection of fine jewelry from my current state.” Deciding to let yourself relax and simply play along, your fold your hands in your lap and finally lean back.

“Well I suppose you’ll just have to make me a ring out of the paper from my books you borrow, won’t you?” He crinkles his nose up at you.

“A ring?” Shaking his head, he leans forward, his elbows on his knees. “My darling, a bride of mine would have a crown.” He turns to look over his shoulder at his bed where the latest book is hidden. “In fact, I may have to tear up more than one of your books to make a proper piece.”

“Don’t you dare ruin a single of my books.” You point your finger at him, breaking the playful ruse to make sure he wouldn’t actually do such a thing. Some of those you lend are rare! His smile snaps off his face and he holds up his hands.

“I would never,” he promises before breaking back into a smile again. The air settles and you try to relax your body into the hard metal of the chair. You are not successful. Something about your visit with your mother just has strings of your muscles tense and on edge. You roll your shoulders back and Loki watches you with a look of consideration. He seems to make a decision and lifts his chin. “Close your eyes.” You do no such thing.

“What?” You most certainly need more information before obliging his wish. He sighs with a slight impatience.

“Close your eyes,” he repeats. You still do not do as he says. “What do you think I am going to do from in here?” he questions, sensing your uneasiness. “Trust me.”

Trust him? It’s a large thing to ask and yet he commands it so casually. You force yourself to think about it, to mull it over in your mind despite the fact that your first instinct is to do just as asks; trust him.

In the end, with one more curious and unsure glance his way, you let your eyes close and envelope you in darkness. You’re aware, firstly, of where the light sources make the black behind your lids just the slightest bit brighter. The lantern on the wall off to your left. The dull light from his cell. The flicker of barrier wall in front of you.

“Good,” he coos, his voice washing over you. “Let your mind relax and just listen.” A part of you holds a suspicion and wants to open your eyes, but you push it back. “Imagine you’re in your chambers. Warm. Safe. Plush.” You let yourself imagine a small fire underneath your mantle at night, the shadow of the flames dancing along your walls. It’s a comforting image. “You sit on your bed, the blankets thick and soft beneath you.” In your mind you wear short pants cut off mid-thigh so that you can feel the lush fur of your favorite blanket against your legs as you climb atop the bed. “A man is with you, sitting behind you. Hands come to your shoulders, squeezing softly.” The mention of a man threatens to ruin your peace, but his words continue to ease you into relaxation. “He runs his fingertips down your arms, so feather-light it sends small chills through you.” Your body tenses to suppress a real shiver at just the prospect of the sensation. “Fingers glide back up and thumbs press into the space between your neck and your shoulders, kneading there, pushing at your tension, battling it. Slender fingers that hold strength. When the knots break, his thumbs slip down your spine, fingers gliding along the smoothness of your bare back.” You’re mutedly aware of a flicker of light in front of your eyes. The barrier, perhaps? Has he touched it? Lost in the fantasy of the massage Loki is telling, you don’t dare open your eyes to find out. “Fingers back up to your neck, rubbing, pressing. Harder in your tense areas, lighter and softer at your more tender. You can feel his breath at your ear as he eases your tension.”

His words work wonders. Your head even lolls to the side as though leaning into someone or giving someone access. You let out a long, audible sigh and then suddenly it doesn’t feel so imagined anymore. You feel the physical sensation of cool fingertips at the juncture of your neck contrasted with warm breath at the back of your ear. Cold dread plummets down your body and your eyes snap open, your hand darting to your shoulder only to find nothing there. You look back at Loki and he’s not at the barrier as you had thought, but still sitting in his chair. He raises a single brow.

“What did you do?” you question, suddenly slightly out of breath.

“What do you mean?” His voice lacks the coy nature you expected. “I was helping you to relax.”

“Yes, but how did you…” Confused, you turn in your chair to look around. There’s no one in sight, not that you had thought there would be. You narrow your eyes back to him before considering the barrier. You analyze it from your seat, looking for any sort of damage or crack or any kind of vulnerability at all, but can see none. “I thought your magic is contained to your cell, that it can’t reach outside of the walls.”

“It is.” He squints and you can’t tell if he’s genuinely confused or if he’s simply playing you.

“Then how did I feel your hands on me?” There’s the smallest smirk playing at his lips.

“Is that who you were imagining? Were they my hands caressing your skin?” You tighten your robe around yourself and cross your arms, but do not answer. “Words and the mind are powerful things. Perhaps you simply felt what you wanted to feel.” He leans back in his armchair so comfortably. Was he right? He had vowed no trickery for your visits.

“If my mind is playing tricks on me, then I believe that’s a sign it’s time for me to retire.” You can’t seem to decide if you believe him or not, but it makes for an easy and safe exit. Going to bed and sleeping isn’t a bad idea at all right now.

“Then off you go,” he waves at you. “Perhaps your mind will add onto that little scenario as you drift off,” he suggests. “You’ll have to let me know how that little fantasy ends.” His little smirk widens as you turn away. Normally, you’d have a quick retort to throw back at him, but this time you can do nothing more than simply leave. Your body and mind are just a little too unstable, already missing the invisible contact of his touch.

~~~~~

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[sunflowersunshinevol6]

Hello Harry

Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!OC

Warnings: smut, cheating, prostitution, blowjobs

Summary: Camille's been cheating. But with who

Harry knows she's having an affair; the question is, with who?

Could be Jake from the yoga studio, maybe her manager or even one of her friends...

Harry is so fucked up.

He hates this, hates thinking about it and feeling jealous and the caveman bullshit that's driving him insane. But he knows Camille is cheating on him, he's found the texts on her phone 'contact unlisted' all about meetings and hotels. They're not exactly the sexiest but then, Camille isn't stupid – deniability is probably something she'd want. Then there's the scent of unfamiliar perfume that hangs to the clothes she dumps in the laundry basket, too deeply ingrained to be anything other than contact with another person. She's picked up a few tricks too, bendy and amazing as she is, she was not a pro when it came to giving head. He wasnt mad of course, it's not the kind of thing that's a deal breaker. He just didn't ask for it and she only volunteered when she felt she needed too. But now....

She'd gotten good at it, great even.

Harry wondered where the hell that had come from.

It made it harder for him to want her when he couldn't kiss her without thinking about her mouth around some one else's dick.

So he keeps checking her phone. Ignored the occasional looks she gives him in the evenings when they're cocooned on the sofa, watching the same rom coms over and over again. The looks that say ' Why do you keep moving away from me? You dont want me anymore?' She actually looks hurt. Sometimes he wonders if it's all in his mind.

Then the text comes through, he reads it and deletes it without letting her see it. Then he hides her phone in his studio, some place she wouldn't look.

'Wednsday. Apartment 216. Same time.'

Harry has a few options here, he could have let her read the text, then followed her. He could go to the apartment and check out who lives there. Or he could go for the knee jerk reaction – find the apartment and beat the hell out of the other guy.

Sane? Probably not. But more than anything Harry wants it to be a mistake, all in his mind. He loves her. He really does. And he isnt sure he can handle it if everything really is a lie.

He drives across town wishing that he wasn't 'that guy' the one who didn't just man up and ask his girlfriend what was wrong. No, he's the guy who'll deny everything and push it down until he can't hide from it anymore – he has to find out what's been going on, has to make himself believe it.

The apartment building is moderately nice, clean and modern with an entry phone and lots of chrome and exposed brick. It's in a nice enough neighborhood. Harry pulls up and buzzes the right apartment. A women's voice comes over the intercom taking him by surprise.

"Hello?"

Harry hasn't really thought this through, what does he say? Especially since he had expected a man to answer not a woman. Is she in a three way? He closes his eyes and swallows, playing for time as he works something out.

"Yeah...Hi, I guess I'm here to see you." He flinches at how lame that sounds. "I want to..."

The door buzzes open.

"It's alright. Come on up." The voice is pleasant, gentle. Almost as though she is trying to soothe him, which does not do wonders for Harry's mood. He's so confused. What the hell is he doing.

He mounts the stairs and reaches the apartment door as it opens. A small petite girl around 5'2 opens the door, a kind smile on her face. Harry takes her in, taken by surprise at how gentle she looks. She has long dark hair and bright blue eyes that look at him with amusement, a kind smile on her plump pink lips.

"So...you want to come in?" her voice is light, calm and nonchalant.

He can't judge himself against this stranger, can't quite work out if Camille is maybe bisexual or if it's all in his head.

"Yeah" he follows her slim, retreating back into the apartment. "You don't seem surprised that I'm here." Harry says, finally, as they reach the living room, there's a huge L shaped couch dominating the space and she gestures for him to sit.

"Should I be?" her manner is still easy, formal but not guarded, like she couldn't lie if she tried. Harry hates it, but then, maybe she has no idea that Camille is taken. Maybe she doesn't even know her name. She seems to catch Harry's assumption that she should be surprised and shrugs.

"I was expecting someone else...a mix-up on my part." She settles onto the couch easily, jean clad legs falling carelessly open, hands resting in her lap.

Neither of them speak.

"You seem nervous." She says eventually, smiling and leaning forwards, arms resting on her knees.

"I'm not...I'm not even sure why I'm here." It comes out gruffer than he intended, less confrontational, more hopeless. "so how can I be nervous?"

"Well you must know why you're here...what is it you want to ask me?" her head tilts, exposing the side of her neck, her pulse fluttering. Harry teeters on the edge, not wanting to ask – not wanting to know. Wishing he could go back home to his two bedroom house and listen to one of Camille's modeling stories, curled against her side in the warmth of their bed.

He can't, it would kill him to leave now.

He's about to speak when the girl's eyes narrow, lids lowering with shyness.

"Or...I'm sorry, usually I..." she looks up at Harry then, mouth twisting with self deprecating awkwardness. "I tend to negotiate...terms...upfront." Composure slips back into place.

Harry officially doesn't get her.

"You mean..." he has no idea how to finish that sentence, but fortunately the girl is now sitting next to him taking it as a prompt.

"Payment" she inclines her head delicately.

"For..."

Her blue eyes narrow as if she senses that they're not having the same conversation – finally. She leans back on the sofa, a politely confused look gracing her features.

"Who are you, exactly?" She asks, curiously.

"I'm...Camille's boyfriend." Harry says carefully. "I came here..." he breaks off and starts again with more strength in his voice. "Look, I know you've been texting my girlfriend, and, meeting her in hotels and today she was meant to come here." He gestures at the blue walls that surround them. "so I came here to find out..."

"Oh God." She seems genuinely horrified now, looking down at the floor and her own bare feet.

"...Find out that my girl's been having an affair." Harry feels like the all the air in the room is leaving and he can't breathe. "Did you know about me or did she never mention..."

"My clients don't tend to tell me much about themselves." She looks at him cautiously, sadness warring with anxiousness on her face.

"Clients." Harry repeats, dumbly. Because he was expecting the worst, and this was not it, the bottom falls out of his nightmare and he realises how much more he had to lose.

"I..." she looks suddenly frozen with realisation and what's worse...pity. "Mr..." she realises she doesn't know his name, falters and then proceeds anyway. "I'm sorry for what you're going through...my relationship with your, girlfriend...was a professional one, a transaction." She almost winces as she says, "I'm an escort."

Harry is motionless for about a minute and a half.

"You're a hooker." He finally says, flinching when he realizes how harsh the words came out.

"I prefer..." she stumbles, a light blush flushing her cheeks. "yes. Yes I am." She sighs. "I apologise....I thought..."

"You thought I was a 'client'" Harry can barely keep the shock out of his voice. Camille has paid this woman for sex. He feels empty, his head throbs with anger and pain and right now he just needs something, someone to hurt "Great, so my girlfriend buys sex from you...when I'm sitting at home or on the road." Harry can feel rage fogging his brain, making his temples ache with frustration.

"Look...I know this isn't the easiest situation...but this isn't really a conversation you need to have with me." Her voice is annoyingly firm and calm. But she does has a point, Harry has to admit, Camille paid her for whatever they did – it's not like she chose her or wanted her. It was just her job.

Another thought hits him – one he really wishes he hadn't had.

"What did she want you to do?"

Her face closes down.

"I don't think...I really don't think that would be productive."

"Screw productive!" Harry suddenly shouts, startling her and making her jump nervously. "I want...I need" his voice breaks, his breath too sharp for his chest. "I have to know."

"It won't help." She says softly.

"I know...but I need to..." Harry is stuck, he can't explain it, so he just looks to her, trying to communicate the misery he feels.

"I..." she swallows, looking down at her hands. "It was just...some advice on...uh...technique." a slight flush creeps up her neck.

"On?" his voice is strained.

"Oral sex." It's almost an apology. "There was no...she didn't participate, I told her a few...tricks....we never did anything. She just wanted advice."

And he can't...he just can't. There's nothing to think that won't hurt. That Camille paid some woman...a hooker to teach her tricks. For him? Or for someone else? He doesnt know anymore.

"How much?" he hears himself ask, numbly.

Her head shoots up, looking at him carefully.

"I don't think..."

"How. Much?" he grates out. He feels bad, so so bad, and right now he just wants to feel out of it, he can't even call it feeling good. He wants to feel...nothing.

"I don't think" the woman, the whore, continues doggedly. "that would help how your feeling."

" I know...but I want..." he can't articulate it, doesn't want to try. "You need the money or not?"

She blinks sadly, ducks his head, eyes firmly shut against her own opinions. "Fifty."

Harry huffs with humourless laughter, but takes out his wallet and deposits notes on the couch between them. She takes them and folds them slowly, slipping them into the pocket of her jeans.

There's a pause and Harry can feel his heart beating painfully, his body contracting with pain and despair.

"Blow me." He says. She dips her head in understanding and drops to the floor in front of him, kneeling on the carpet. Harry closes his eyes when he feels hands going to work on his fly. He doesn't want to see, or even feel. He already wants this over and done, something else to regret.

Warm breath hits his exposed skin, dick still soft, not that he expected otherwise. Her soft, plush lips move over him and he feels himself stirring at the contact. By the time she's sucking lightly at his head, he's almost fully hard, pushing reluctantly into the contact. Loose open mouthed kisses are pressed over his balls, harsh, excited breath rumpling the crisp hair. Harry lets out an involuntary mumble of appreciation.

The slow, exploratory touches become more of a constant pressure. The girl on her knees encircles Dean's shaft with one hand, sucking the tip and running her tongue over the slit and the thick vein that Harry knows all too well. With one quick movement she withdraws her hand and takes Harry in as far as possible, tongue swirling on the way down. Harry makes a strangled sound, heat and slick tightness and the pressing weight of the whore's tongue overloading him for a second. The girl bobs her head up and down, unsurprisingly moving like a pro. Harry recognises the technique as Camille's new approach.

It's almost the same sensation, a little more practiced but still similar enough to blur together with her in his mind. He's losing himself to bitterness, forgetting where he is and remembering Camille and what she's done.

And then she moans.

The rough, wrecked sound breaks Harry from his thoughts and he opens his eyes, looking down at the dark head still intently bobbing on his cock. She moans again on the down stroke and Harry can feel her tongue sweeping at hus head, tasting pre-come and coming back for more. He shifts from his place, thrown back on the couch, raising himself enough to look at the girl's face.

Her eyes are shut, squeezed closed not at the strain of the motion, as he finds Camille sometimes looks, but instead with guilty pleasure. Soft hands grip Harry's thighs, urging him up, closer. Another wordless, groan of pleasure wracks the throat of the girl kneeling before him. Her eyes flicker open a little, taking a second to focus on Harry's flushed, intent face. Blue eyes turn slightly worried for a second, as if she's suddenly remembered that this is one sided deal – that Harry is paying for a service and not doing her a massive favour by shoving his cock down her throat.

Harry lays a hand on her dark hair, soft and untidy, gently pushing her further down onto his erection, hips bucking up as he watches the whore's lips stretch around him. Her eyes flick closed as she goes back to sucking, cheeks hollowing and she moans around the weight of him, soft keening noises and greedy, thick moans that catch her throat.

Harry can't tear his eyes away.

'Fuck...fuck...yeah, god..." Harry crashes into his orgasm, body stiffening as she swallows him down, lapping at his cum.

She sucks Harry lazily, pulling off when he emits a soft noise at the stimulation of his sensitive dick. She presses her nose to the dark hair there instead, inhaling shakily and making a wretched sound in the back of her throat. Harry can only shake, body and mind still lost and only aware that someone is lavishing attention on him, tender and soft as he comes down.

"...uh..." the sound falls from her lips, body trembling as she presses his mouth to the skin beside the root of Harry's spent cock. Harry pets her hair, feeling the soft nudging of her head against his palm.

This is intimate, wrong on levels beyond levels. But Harry can't pull away. He's lost his girlfriend, his perfect, beautiful girl. And the only thing that's made him feel good in months is a whore who's sucked him down for fifty bucks.

And loved every second of it.

She pulls away after a while, sitting back on her heels and rubbing the back of her hand across her reddened mouth.

Harry straightens up, she refuses to look him in the eye.

"I take it I should...go." Harry hears himself say. She looks up, looking for the first time like she isn't sure, not just mildly confused but downright uncertain.

"...I...yes." she says. She gets up and goes to the door, laying her hands on it. "I'm sorry...about how this has gone..."

"Don't. It's not...it's really not your fault." Harry steps through the opened door, looking back at her and feeling awkward, somehow regretting what they've done, for the wrong reasons. "Thank you...for...it was good."

"Good" she says, smiling slightly, then, without meaning to. "what's your name?" She never usually asks things of her clients.

"Harry." Harry says, feeling the weight in his chest decrease a little. "Styles." He adds, because being just Harry would make him like any one of the John's this girl must see. He wants to be different, not just a client but the guy who came to find out about his girlfriend, who came for a reason other than sex.

"I'm Prudence" He realises this must sound like a fake name. "Usually I introduce myself as Marie, it's my middle name. But I'm Prudence Bulsara-Hutton."

Harry likes the fact that he gets this girl's real name. He likes her more than he should like someone who's been hooking up with his girlfriend and then blown him for a handful of bills.

"Hi Prudence."

"Hello Harry."

[inviouswriting]

A quick smut then a small fluff afterwards.

Arjuna x reader.

Smut. I will cut this later. Written via mobile.

I tend to focus alot on female pleasures mostly because most readers are usually well.. women. And I am better at writing mxf stories. Also selfish indulgence.

Arjuna had come to you for a mild respite away from others. You indulge him in your room. You are dressed down to a simple black top and skirt that went to mid-thigh. He had complimented it and coaxed you to sit with him, in his lap.

You feel a twinge of embarrassment as the skirt lifts as you straddle his waist fitting in his lap comfortably with your legs on either side of him.

Arjuna holds mischief in his eyes seeing the shade of red your face flushed to. He trails a hand up the outside of your thigh, feeling skin to skin. He had chosen that purple and black outfit, the one he had traveled in.

Arjuna notes how you jump from his touch, if he didnt know you the way he does he would have backed off a bit. Yet he guides his hand higher under the hem of the skirt to expose more to his fingertips.

"Master, you're softer than usual. Have you been using that oil?" He questions and smooths his palm along your thigh. He knew what this does to you.

You blush wild, the oil in question was one you two use together. He takes genuine pleasure in rubbing it on you to hear your voice.

"Yes. I've been using it." You had to look away from his eyes, the knowing stare in them, he knew. That it wasn't just a massage you used it for. Not when his fingers travel to the smooth mound hidden by silk lace.

"My master, my dear master. You should summon me more if you want to use it like that." You feel his face against yours pressing light heated kisses along your neck. Centering on a love bite he had left a few days ago.

"I... I.. know. I couldn't help it.. but it didn't feel the same without you." Kisses are pressed higher to that spot just below your ear. You feel your face hot almost missing the slip of his fingers tugging aside the thin material of the panty.

"Is that so? Why did it not feel the same?" Arjuna blows a hot breath on the ear getting you to try and press your ear to your shoulder. Only succeeding in getting your archer to press his face against the side of your head. He catches the ear between his teeth and you feel plush lips nibble.

If Arjuna could see your face you would surely immolate from what you feel. The nibbling stops and you feel him do small puffs of hot breath.

"You weren't with me... I... ah..." you trail off, you feel his fingers spread you open. Two of them slip in along your folds, he hums in your ear at how his fingers are coated without him doing anything yet.

"Oho? Is it because my fingers reach deeper? You are really wet here. I haven't done anything yet." He notes your face burns more and you press it more to his shoulder. However Arjuna pulls his head back to look at you. Pressing his forehead to yours so you can't escape his eyes.

"Yes... your fingers reach deeper, and... they feel better than mine.." Your eyes dart to the side, even as Arjuna runs his fingers through slickness coating them.

"Look at my eyes." His voice is low and when you look back to him, he pushes his fingers inside. You have a shocked expression at the sudden press of them then keep your gaze with his dark brown eyes. They almost glow with lust, and you can feel just below your thighs his cocknthrough the fabric of his clothes. Those fingers though, they fit just right as he had went straight with three knowing you can handle the stretch. After all you've been seated on him many times without fail.

"A-Arjuna! Your fingers!" They begin to move, he wriggles them at first and turns his hand as he pulls his hand back. There is a smirk gracing his lips seeing you quivering from his fingers already.

"Yes? My Master? What do you ask of your servant." Arjuna returns his head back to the side of yours. Catching an earlobe he runs his tongue from it to the top of your helix listening to you sigh and feels you clench on his fingers. He curls them right then begins to thrust his hand better.

You feel your face hotter. You realized he asked you a question and expected an answer with him doing such sinful things.

"I ask of you... please... t-to." You pant at the end of your broken sentence when his fingers brush that spot that makes you clamp more on him and Rick your hips to his rhythm.

Arjuna pulls his head back to watch your face. His free hand begins to push up the front of your top, bra and shirt till your breasts are exposed to his eyes. He palms a breast while his other hand keeps up with thrusting fingers in ar your gspot till your legs shake more, your toes curling on the bedsheets gripping them as you move in rhythm pushing your hips to his hand.

"You ask of me? You can tell me. I keep all of your secrets. How your voice sounds when you cry my name, how you blush when I get you into embarrassing positions. Tell me. What do you want of your Arjuna." You feel his fingers retreat from within your pussy and spreads open your folds as much as his hand can go. He feels the heat off your center, he dips his middle in just to tease the entrance with wiggling his finger around it not enough to feel full but enough to feel the digit.

"I... ah...! Arjuna! Why... did you stop?!" Teeth graze your neck enough to bite, enough for him to add another mark next to the other.

"I stopped because you are having such a hard time answering me. Be honest, what do you desire of me?" The hot breath on your neck and the press of his fingers back in enough.

The hand toying with your breast had left in favor of underneath you starting to pull the hem of his clothing up. You raise your hips to make it easier only for him to buck his hips up to yours.

"I want you... inside me...." you manage out, and Arjuna kisses a path up your next again after he was satisfied with the mark he left.

"You want me inside where? I have options. From your mouth, to your ass, to this lovely spot just at my fingertips. If I am not directly told where. I could decide for myself and leave you terribly unsatisfied." You snap your head up, he wouldnt deliberately leave you like this. Wet and hot and unable to be satisfied now unless you were on his cock after he had filled you full, well after he reduced you to a mess with his thrusts.

"You wouldn't!?!" A devilish smirk on his face, a rare one as he adjusts his clothes pushing the pants underneath down pass his hips.

"Do we want to test my endurance? You know I can outlast you." You almost retaliate by messing up his hair, but don't as the last time you did that he had pinned you to every single surface and teased you relentless to where you passed out from the intensity of the sex you had with him.

"I want you inside... my..." Arjuna guides your hips over his, lining his cock to your soaked pussy and merely plays with not pushing in yet.

"You want me inside where? Master, your humble servant wants to know." Arjuna presses his forehead against your shoulder, the teasing affecting him well, the slick heat just a command away.

"Arjuna! Please.... inside my pussy!" You feel your face hotter at saying it, but upon the command, Arjuna's hands grip your waist and pushes you down on his dick. You both groan together, you from the sudden intrusion and feeling full from how big he is. Arjuna from the intense comfortable wet heat that surrounds him.

Arjuna has a firm grip on your waist and rocks your hips with his, pulling you back enough till you nearly slip out then guides you back down on his length.

You pant against his collarbone still hidden by the clothing he wears. You even bite into the fabric to stifle moans as tears start brimming your eyes at just how much you needed him.

Arjuna tugs the thin panty further aside making sure it doesn't ride up in his thrusts into you. Feeling the way he is relentless in his movements made you wonder how much he was holding back, he is alot harder than you remember him ever being.

You follown his hands when they urge you to push down harder, Arjuna looks down your back to where his hands grip the flesh of your rear, seeing how his fingers sink nicely in the full of your ass. The squeeze makes you jolt a bit, you roll your hips down as he thrusts his up to meet you, even as you bounce a little to try and keep up.

"That's it... that's it.. feel me... you feel so hot on me.." Arjuna purrs into your ear, and you muffle yourself with the top again till he tugs it away from your mouth.

Arjuna tires of the position he has you in, and with a brief movement, him circling his arms around you, you feel him flip you both, you now on your back and Arjuna pushing your legs further apart. He rustles with his clothing to pull the top of his outfit off sighing relief when his skin is bared.

Hands return to your waist and lifts it enough urging you to wrap your legs on his waist. When he was satisfied with the angle he thrusts in alot harder than before. Chasing his own high with you.

You feel yourself teetering on an edge of pleasure. So much that tears threatened to spill from your eyes with how intense it feels. You hold back for him, for Arjuna, murmuring something under your breath that he looks at you to find out what you are pleading him in broken whimpers.

"Hands.. please..." he looks down and realizes he had been gripping too hard and closes his eyes before he looks at you with a genuine look in his eyes.

"Master, I am sorry, you just feel so good." You shake your head, not what you meant.

"No, it feels good too... I want you to hold my hands." Brown eyes widen with understanding, and he lowers his head to rest his forehead with yours as he grips your hands with his own. You tilt your head up as he does to the side and seals a full kiss, his tongue prodding yours and you suck on his.

Arjuna thrusts wildly again and you feel the grip on your hands tighter, you taper the kiss off, arjuna bites down on your shoulder and you cant help the moan that comes out.

You cry out his name, and feel him twitch inside.

"Master, again! My name... say it like that again." You hear his request even feel his fingers tightening on yours.

"Ah! Arjuna! Arjuna!! Arjuna!!! Please!!! Arjuna!!! I want you!!! Please please!" You plead him, each punctuated cry was met with harder thrusts, even him moaning out under his breath when he isn't kissing you full.

"Tell me... you love me..." his words make your heart melt. And you untangle one hand from his grip to smooth into his hair.

"Arjuna, I love you." You rest your palm to his cheek, feeling the heat off it from his exertion with resuming his thrusts, till he is sure the bed could break under how hard he is going.

You grip the hand you still hold tight, and Arjuna feels the starts of your orgasm how your walls flutter on his cock, how much more wet you are.

The throb of his dick urges you onto reach your climax with a silent scream of his name and a well gush against his lap.

Arjuna thrusts through the sudden tightening around him. Till you grip him hard enough that he cums equally hard, warmth fills you and you blush as you look up to see Arjuna lost to bliss.

Arjuna wraps his arms underneath you and half lays on you while he is worn out from the sex you two had. Your face flushed more when he pants in your ear, hot breath on it and doing wonders for you.

You comb your fingers through his dark hair, content with him like this. You continually pet through his hair with his face buried in your shoulder. Till you feel him stir and move to sit up. You are greeted to him hovering over you, a satisfied smirk on his lips and lowered eyes. His hair tousled nicely by your fingers adding to the rumpled state you both are in.

Arjuna takes note of how the skirt is scrunched at your waist from his pushing it up and panty tugged aside enough for him to have taken you. Your shirt shoved up and he enjoyed every moment of your breasts moving from his thrusts.

You sigh content as you watch him look you over to the perfect mess done by his hands. Arjuna meets your stare after sitting upright. He rolls his hips forward then pulls back to withdraw himself out of you.

You feel your cheeks heat up again seeing thebwaybhe inspects you for rub marks from the underwear.

"Arjuna?" You get his attention instantly when you call his name.

"Hmm?" He lowers down to rest his face on your chest.

"Can we go again? But this time... without clothes?" You fidget and his grin returns.

"Of course my master. I rather have you without clothes too." He reaches over the side of you into a compartment in your bed for a bottle of oil. Your eyes light up seeing it and you bite your bottom lip.

"I do need to put this on you properly after all." You are more than eager to indulge him more if it meant feeling so comfortable in his arms later.

"Please, please me." You request.

"Is that a command? Master?" He watches you remove the rest of your clothing.

"It is. Do have have any problems with it?" You look hopeful.

"It is a command I will enjoy carrying out." As soon as the last of your clothing was off you feel the tingling sensation of the vanilla oil spread on you and knew from there he will take care of you. Just as you do for him.

[snusbandxknifewife]

Have a field trip fic I finished at 6am I’m sorry y’all lol

~~~~~~~

Field trip fic 1–York’s Wild Kingdom

“ Vivi, no!” I hiss, setting down the itinerary my sister kept insisting on handing me. “I can’t just leave Faerie to go on some zoo trip, just because you feel like laying in bed!”

“Oh come on,” she turns and points to Heather in exasperation. “I won’t just be laying in bed. She’s got the flu, and I can’t chaperone this trip without her!”

“But you expect me to go alone?” I’m incredulous, the list of my duties back in Faerie flitting through my head at lightning speed.

Heather opens her mouth to say something, but closes it again and sinks back into the couch with exhaustion written in every line of her body. Vivi’s eyes shoot to her girlfriend, obviously concerned, but I don’t let it sidetrack me.

“You expect me to watch a gaggle of children—“

“Oak’s friends.” Vivi interrupts.

“—alone? Vivi I have a thousand different things I need to do, none of which involve wrangling a hundred little demons. Why not tell Madoc to go?”

She fixes me with a tired look and I have to admit that maybe suggesting Madoc, of all people, wasn’t my smartest move. Honestly, I don’t think I can picture any scenario involving Madoc and a field trip that doesn’t end with at least one person in the emergency room.

I sigh and bury my face in my hands, my elbows resting on the breakfast bar in Vivi’s kitchen. Out in the living room, some reality show blares and Chinese food containers are stacked miles high. With Heather sick, all she’s wanted was takeout food and sleep. Vivi looks at her wits end, clearly far more worried about her girlfriend than the field trip that she’s assured me Oak has been looking forward to for weeks.

“I glamoured Oak’s teacher already. She thinks you and Cardan were the chaperones all along.” 

My eyes go wide and I shoot to my feet, ready to wring my sister’s neck. “You want me to bring Cardan? Vivi you expect both the King and Queen of Faerie to just leave for some stupid—“

“It’ll only be for the day, which is night for Faerie.” She sounds exasperated. “Nobody will even have to know you’re gone and you’ll be back by eight, long enough to get some shut eye for the next day.”

And because she’s right, we would be gone in the middle of the night, I don’t really have anymore reason to argue with her; especially given how Heather chooses that exact moment to make a run for the toilet in the hall bathroom.

I sigh and admit defeat, grabbing the itinerary for Mrs. Walker’s third grade class field trip to York’s Wild Kingdom Zoo and Amusement Park. Scowling down at the times and picking up Heather and Vivi’s chaperone t-shirts, I walk out of the apartment and make my way back to where I parked my ragwort steed.

Two days later, I’m standing between my little brother and my husband, both bouncing with excitement in Mrs. Walker’s classroom as we wait for the call to line up to go to the busses.

Cardan and I match, mostly because we’re both wearing pairs of his dark canvas breeches and identical chaperone shirts, dyed the world’s most neon shade of orange to attract attention. His ears and tail are glamoured away, only visible to myself and Oak. He passed well for a mortal man, though his pale skin and ethereal beauty have already earned at least one open-mouthed stare from Mrs. Devins, a housewife who also happens to be chaperoning.

“Mrs. Greenbriar, can I go to the bathroom?” Emily, a little girl in our group, asks for the second time this morning.

I leave Cardan and Oak looking over a map of the park and walk Emily down the hall to the third grade bathroom, waiting for her to finish and walking her back without a word. By the time we return, both boys are sitting in little desks with their heads all but pressed together, Cardan’s legs stretched out in front of him because they’re far too long for him to sit properly.

I reach into my pocket and pull out the itinerary, on which I have written a list of all the kids we’re responsible for today.

Oak

Emily

Derrick

Thomas

Annabelle

Kelly

The entirety of the third grade is going on this trip, so we’ve gotten off easy only having to watch six kids, especially since we were allowed to chaperone together. I don’t know what I would’ve done if I’d had to turn Cardan loose in the mortal world with a gaggle of children.

We’re here at six o’clock in the morning, two hours before school starts, because it’ll be a long drive to the zoo. We’re set to arrive at about nine o’clock and we will depart at five to be back by eight. Cardan and I don’t typically wake up until ten at night, so we’ll do well if we sleep on the bus ride back.

“Jude! What’s a wallaby?” Cardan asks, wonder glimmering in his tar black eyes.

“I think it’s Australian.” I announce, sitting down beside him as Mrs. Walker starts to call groups to head to the busses.

“What’s an Australian?”

I’m saved from answering that glorious question when Mrs. Walker tells us to head to bus 560. I stand again, counting the kids in our group and grabbing our bag before waving them out the door and down the hall.

When we get on the bus, I set about grabbing a seat for Cardan and myself at the front of the bus, because I remember every field trip in the mortal world involving kids sitting behind the chaperones. Oak and his friends confirm my memories by running as far back in the bus as they can, already getting loud and rowdy despite how early it is.

I sit Cardan by the window, knowing he’ll want to look out as we drive. His eyes are already wide, his nose wrinkling at the overpowering scent of gasoline. He still holds the map in his hands, focusing intently as I go through the bag to double check that were given an epi-pen because Emily is allergic to bees.

“Did you inform The Bomb about our whereabouts?” I ask him, whispering so we aren’t heard over the sound of the bus. “Is everything all taken care of?”

“Faerie won’t burn down because we leave for one night, wife.” He rolls his eyes at me, pressing a kiss to my temple. “And, yes, I told Bomb we were going on a field trip.”

His mouth curls around the words, almost like he isn’t sure he’s saying them right. Still, I don’t miss the teasing, so I glare in his direction before turning once more to the itinerary, which I already memorized two days ago.

Our bus driver, an elderly man named Ian, climbs on and greets us. The whole bus is full of third graders, more than just Mrs. Walker’s class, and it’s already nearly deafening. Within thirty seconds, some teacher I’m not familiar with is yelling at the kids to quiet down.

Cardan folds up the map and puts it in our bag as the bus drives away, absentmindedly grabbing my hand and watching out the window.

The bus ride passes quickly, likely because I, against all odds, fell asleep sometime before sunrise. When I’m awoken by Cardan’s fingers running through my hair and his delicate whispers of my name, I reach for my knife in a panic.

“You weren’t allowed weaponry today, my darling villain.” He laughs in my ear and I finally process my surroundings, remembering that we’re chaperoning for Oak’s field trip and I have no reason to pull a knife on a bunch of third graders.

At least, not yet.

“Are we there yet?” I groan, sleep thickening my voice as I rub my eyes hard enough to see stars.

Cardan smiles at me, telling me that Mrs. Walker said we were about ten minutes out. “I figured you’d like to go over your schedule once more, for good measure.”

I can’t tell if he’s being genuine or if he’s making fun of me, but I do look at our papers one more time to be safe. The last thing I want to do is lose a kid or go somewhere at the wrong time.

“I’m not sure who this Wendy lady is, but she seems to have an affinity for eateries.” Cardan announces as we pass a Wendy’s, likely for the bazillionth time this trip. I smile and ignore him, triple checking out epi-pen and reorganizing our bottles of water before closing the bag once more.

Behind us, another chaperone asks how long we’ve been married. When Cardan tells her it’s been more than a year and she visibly blanches, I remember that mortals don’t tend to marry as young as we did. It’s strange, being surrounded by humans who all show their ages so obviously.

To them, we’re barely adults. They likely think we’re going to college or working small jobs. I suppose I can’t blame them for being surprised, out of our normal clothing, you’d never suspect Cardan and I rule over a kingdom. We don’t really look the part of a King and Queen when we’re forced to wear traffic cone orange shirts and sit in a smelly old school bus.

Ian pulls up to the front of the zoo and I have to hold Cardan down to keep him in his chair as other groups file off. Our kids are in the very back, singing along to some repetitive song about baby sharks, clearly just as impatient as my husband.

When I finally get everyone off the bus and their wrist bands around their arms, I do another headcount and roll call. Cardan slings our bag onto his back, bouncing on the balls of his feet and looking around as fast as he can, trying to take in all the bright colors and loud noises.

I go over our schedule with the kids, telling them how we’ll be spending the morning at the zoo and the afternoon at the amusement park. The hour in between is reserved for eating and any shopping that they might want to get done, as well as our scheduled trip to the butterfly pavilion.

“No, Derrick, you can’t pet the tigers.” I sigh as the little blond boy raised his hand, mischief in his eyes. He’s asked me this question at least six times since I met him. If his tiger printed shirt and matching tiger baseball cap are anything to go by, I’d assume he has a favorite animal.

I wrangle the kids and allow them to walk in front of us, one eye glued to Oak and the other watching everyone else as they run ahead.

“Ok, but can I pet the tigers?” Cardan whispers in my ear as we snake through the rides, heading back towards the zoo.

“Cardan, if you so much as look at a tiger I will kick your ass.” I hiss back, my heart rate spiking as my mind plays images of Cardan getting mauled by tigers.

Quickly, the visions morph into him standing naked, surrounded by the gore of a slaughtered snake. My throat threatens to close and tears almost prick at my eyes. “And we aren’t looking at any reptiles, either.”

“There aren’t any, I checked the map.” He’s so caught up in the park around us that he thankfully doesn’t notice my change in tone, allowing me a few seconds to compose myself again. “But there are lions, I want to see whose tail looks nicer.”

I can’t help the snort I let out. “More like whose mouth is bigger.”

“Oh my nemesis, how you wound me.”

We make it to the zoo entrance and all the kids are instantly fighting over where they want to go first.

“I want to see the camels!”

“Ducks are cooler!”

“You can see ducks anywhere!”

“Give me tigers or give me death!”

“Derrick get off the picnic table!” I yell, upon seeing that the little boy has climbed up on an extremely rickety table. “Cardan, please go get the tiger enthusiast.”

“Mrs. Greenbriar, I need to go to the bathroom.” Emily pulls at the hem of my shirt.

Cardan, now with Derrick on his back and a tiger baseball cap covering his eyes, returns to my side. “I believe a trip to the bathroom is wisest, then we’ll circle around the park.”

Oak grabs my hand and Emily stays attached to my shirt hem as we walk to the bathrooms. Ten minutes later, we’re all looking at the tigers and I think Derrick may be having an aneurism.

“Jude, is that what I sound like when I wax poetic about my wine?” Cardan stage whispers in my ear as Derrick begins his third long-winded speech about the majesty of the tiger.

“Your speeches are far more pleasing to the ear, my king.” I smirk as Derrick slips up, mispronouncing a word and deciding that the mistake warrants starting all over.

Below us, a few tigers jump around their enclosure, one playing with a pumpkin full of ground beef. Thomas is goading Derrick into a fourth speech and Oak is pointing excitedly, Annabelle and Emily hanging off every word he says.

I smile, wrapping my arm around my husbands waist and leaning into his side as another tiger attacks the one with the pumpkin, rolling into the side of the enclosure with teeth snapping.

I wish I’d taken a moment longer to revel in the calm, because three hours later, I am at my wit’s end.

Cardan is pouting because he severely misunderstood what a sea lion was, Kelly is crying because she dropped her iPhone—what kind of a third grader even has a smart phone—Oak is on my shoulders, Derrick is pissed that we won’t go back to the tigers, Emily has been to the bathroom four times, Thomas won’t stop trying to do handstands, and Annabelle is whining that she’s starving.

On top of all of that, my husband’s face is turning the color of roses because he is entirely too pale to be walking around without sunblock on.

“Just watch them!” I yell at Cardan as I pull the wallet out of our bag and go stomping in the direction of the closest souvenir shop. I hear Kelly’s crying switch from complaining about her phone to complaining about not being able to shop, but I’m a woman on a mission right now.

A little bell rings as I duck into the shop, taking Oak off my shoulders and giving him the order to only look for what we’re here for. It takes a few minutes and I know my husband won’t be happy with the final outcome, but Oak grabs the perfect hat, glamouring a handful of leaves into dollar bills so I can buy it and leave.

I find the group back by the camels, the kids sticking their fingers through the fencing in the hopes of getting licked by one of the large animals.

“Jude, what are you holding?” Cardan’s voice rouses me from my thoughts, thankfully distracting me as Kelly screeches about getting spit on by a camel.

“A hat. For you.” I hold it out. He takes a step back, his face contorting in horror.

“Jude, my wife, that article of clothing may be the worst I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he announces with a quiet, nearly tear-filled voice. “The very pits of fashion, certainly not suitable for my current outfit!”

“Nothing is suitable for a shirt that orange, certainly not cheeks as red as yours have gone,” I snort in response, throwing the monstrosity atop his head and stepping back to examine my work.

It’s a large floppy hat, similar to the fabric ones you’d see on the beach, but it’s printed with terrible drawings of all types of zoo animals as well as having the park’s name and logo emblazoned across the front. It covers Cardan’s whole face, the shadows showing just how badly he’s already been burned.

He reaches up to take it off, obviously seconds from flinging it away in disgust.

“Cardan you have a terrible sunburn and I won’t have you bitching about peeling skin tomorrow. You’ll wear the hat or you’ll regret it,” I warn, enough fire in my eyes to make him put the hat back on with a pout.

“I think it’s,” Oak starts confidently, aiming for a compliment but faltering in the middle, “a hat.”

Cardan laughs, his rosy cheeks squishing up with his grin as he picks up his nephew. “Oak, my friend, you’re far too old to twist your words so poorly,” he smiles. “I’ll have to teach you better ways to flatter insincerely before your first court appearance.”

I roll my eyes and turn back to the other kids, having to drag Thomas down from where he’s begun to climb the camel enclosure. He whines, as do the rest of the kids when I tell them it’s time to leave the zoo, but they all perk up again when I say it’s also time for lunch.

Cardan fishes out the envelope full of meal vouchers as I take orders. A chicken strip meal for that one, two burgers for them, a grilled cheese for her, a hot dog for him, and nachos for Oak. Cardan wisely takes my advice and settles for a burger, openly fascinated by the very concept of mortal cuisine.

I personally take chicken strips and french fries with ketchup, a delicacy from my youth that I so sorely miss in a land where salt is toxic to its inhabitants. Cardan pouts when I don’t let him steal a fry—the last thing I need is to have him puking on fair rides this afternoon—but greatly enjoys the bite of chicken I offer.

He is yet again far too tall for the table and his fingers are laughably large for the burger he holds, but the kids all seem to be enjoying the “act” that Mr. Greenbriar puts on where he pretends not to understand basic things around him. They absolutely have a riot when he asks me what ketchup is.

Then it’s cleanup time and off to the butterfly enclosure. Something I, for one, am actually looking forward to. Cardan wraps his arm around my waist once more, his stupid hat shielding me from the sun too, and watches with me as the kids clamber inside the first door.

An attendant warns us to be delicate with the butterflies because their wings can get hurt easily and then she lets us inside. All my stress from earlier melts away for a moment as the room opens up to a rainforest utopia, butterflies of all shapes and sizes and colors fluttering about our group.

Thankfully the kids are quiet and well-behaved in here, too busy being awestruck by the butterflies to start doing stupid things like climbing walls. All but Oak, who walks back towards us with a small frown on his face.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, my fingers brushing through his hair and over his horns.

His shoulders slump but he doesn’t say anything.

“Your queen commanded you to speak, it is your duty to obey her,” Cardan lightly reprimands, his fingers going under Oak’s chin to force him to lift his head.

A monarch floats by on a lazy breeze, crossing right between us and drawing all of our attention for a moment.

“Sometimes I miss home,” he finally admits, his eyes hollow in a way I haven’t seen in him before, a way I know I used to sport often in my youth. “The mortal world has things that Elfhame doesn’t, but when I watch everyone else get excited over pretty gardens or animals, I remember that home is far prettier.”

Cardan lets go of my waist, grabbing Oak and putting him on his hip before walking deeper into the garden.

I can’t hear what they say, I can only watch as my husband calls butterflies, first to his open palm, then to my brothers. I feel my heart clench as he whispers something in Oak’s ear that makes my little brother smile again. My eyes follow him as Cardan sets him down once more, allowing him to run back to his friends.

“What did you say?” I ask, reaching a hand out to my husband as he returns.

“Merely that beauty isn’t inherent in a place or thing,” he smiles, reaching out his hand in turn and allowing a little blue butterfly to hop into my palm. “That it is what we cultivate, and he has more than enough magic to make some here.”

I blink back sudden tears at the way he looks at me, the open and pure adoration in his eyes. He pulls me into a kiss as a few more butterflies settle on his hat and in my hair.

Then Emily asks about the god forsaken bathroom and the moment is ruined.

“I swear that child has a urinary tract problem,” I hiss, turning back to the kids as Cardan laughs at me.

We leave the butterfly room behind and head to the bathrooms. Again.

The kids are running circles around Cardan when I return, leaving him openly concerned and visibly longing for a wine goblet. Oak is studiously sat at his Uncle’s side, looking every bit the little prince that he is but wasn’t raised to be.

“My mommy gave me forty dollars!” Kelly yells at Derrick, the two seemingly in the midst of a fight about buying stuff at the gift shop.

“Kelly, some of that is for dinner,” I warn her. “We have to eat on the way back so you need to save your money.”

“My mom said I can buy two tigers!” My warnings go out the window as Derrick distracts Kelly once more, the two descending into a fight about which is better, tigers or cheetahs.

My eye twitches as I grab a water bottle from our bag, leaning into Cardan’s ear and whispering, “oh my husband my darling, do save me before I challenge a child to a duel.”

He laughs at me, standing up and grabbing Oak’s hand. He then assures me that it can’t be too bad, we already survived Annabelle trying to jump into the sea lion pool, surely we can handle shopping with a few children.

At least Oak had my back in that shop, because gods know my husband lost his mind the second he got inside.

I don’t honestly remember what happened, I think I blacked out about the time Thomas took a running leap at a stuffed animal display and I had to catch him mid air.

“I don’t think it was too bad,” Oak says as he holds his brand new assortment of little stuffed butterflies. “You didn’t draw any blood when Kelly tried to buy a four hundred dollar necklace.”

“You checked the map, does this place have bumper cars?” I grind my teeth, watching Cardan stuff an insanely large plastic bag into our little black bag. He keeps refusing to show me what’s inside, insisting it’s a surprise.

“It does,” my brother confirms.

“Good,” I nod, herding him out of the store last. “Because I’m going to put some of these kids into a wall.”

And put them into a wall I do. By the time we make it off the bumper cars and to the Ferris wheel, Mrs. Jude Greenbriar is well on her way to being a legend in Mrs. Walker’s class, purely for her ruthless approach to bumper cars. Cardan, who insisted on standing aside since Emily didn’t want to ride—something about it making her need to pee—looked increasingly more horrified every time I spun around and sent another kid’s cart flying away from mine.

At least it calmed the nerves a little bit.

“My villain, my gorgeous, bloodthirsty little god,” he whispers in the shell of my ear, sending a shiver down my spine as our Ferris wheel cart rises up into the sky. “I expected a modicum of mercy for the mortal children.”

“Cardan if I ever have to take another child to a bathroom it will be too soon,” I snap, the sudden motion of me turning to face him causing our cart to rock dangerously.

He grins at me.

I raise an eyebrow.

“Good thing our children won’t need bathroom breaks,” he finally supplies. “I wouldn’t want you putting them into a wall.”

My eyes widen in shock. It’s not like we haven’t discussed children before—we’ll need to produce an heir to the throne at some point—and it’s not like I haven’t thought about having kids with him—we do share a bed every night—but to hear him so casually mention it is a rare thing indeed.

He looks concerned, opening his mouth, likely to apologize for upsetting me, when his words really register in my head and I collapse back against the seat with a joyous little sigh

~~~~~

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