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wtfsteveharrington · 1 year ago

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after midnight | carmen berzatto x reader

summary: chicago is expensive, okay? so you pick up a job outside of the restaurant which just so happens to involve your camera. everything's fine until richie stumbles upon the website and shares it with camry.

contents: perv!carmy, male & female masturbation, sex toys, dirty talk, cam sex, slight dub-con kinda if you look for it. carmy’s honestly a wreck. mentions of unprotected sex, choking, oral sex, overstimulation. please note!! no formal intercourse takes place yet but it's cuming coming but ya girl wants a slow burn

reader description: she/her pronouns, there is semi a hair scene but i use no real descriptors so still vague!

word count: basically 3.9k

author notes: first fic in a year baby and boy did i lose the plot!! filth!! also i sure love saying fuck in this so enjoy that

part two

★–————————–

Richie’s voice is annoying. It echos, ricochets off the walls, and can’t be contained by even the highest quality of sound proofing. Which is why, at 8 in the morning, Carmen’s already considering having to take Excedrin as Richie bursts through the doors.

“Carmy, Cousin, you’re never gonna fuckin’ believe what I found last night.” He’s out of breath after running in, fumbling around with his phone in a rush to pull something up. He’d spent all night contemplating if he texted Carmen or waited to show him in person. Ultimately the urge to see his reaction won but that didn’t stop Richie from waking up before his alarm out of excitement. “Listen, we’re both grown ass men so I’m gonna say it -“ he’s glancing around to make sure they’re alone, “- So I’m laying there and jerkin’ my shit, right?”

Carmen’s wincing, pinching the bridge of his nose and contemplating every decision that brought him back to Chicago.

“Dude, fuck off. I don’t wanna hear -“ Richie tsks, cutting him off.

“Nah, shut the fuck up because you wanna hear this. In fact, you’re gonna wanna fall to your knees and kiss my shoes and praise my ass as a thank you for finding this.”

He’s holding up his phone, an iPhone 8 he refuses to upgrade, and illuminated on the screen is a video of you. You, on your knees, in lingerie. You, with your fingers dragging down your chest, across the lace that covers your breasts. Your head falls back as you run your thumbs across your nipples. A sound so angelic coming from your lips that Carmen starts to understand why people spend so much time at Church. He’s convinced you’re hand carved by God, or Buddha, or whatever might be up there.

Carmy’s instantly feeling a rush of heat across his chest and his cheeks as he takes the sight of you in. It feels wrong but at the same time the coiling in his stomach feels so good he can’t look away quite yet. “Why the…” He’s cut off by a whine coming from Richie’s speaker as you keep teasing yourself. His brain is frying for a second as he tries to focus on finishing his sentence. “How the hell did you find this?”

“Listen, sometimes I get bored on the same ole sites, okay? Clicked an ad to see who was live and ended up here. Now I stopped watching, obviously, out of respect but this? I’ve known you long enough to know when you gotta thing for someone and you’re not gonna act on it. Also, I caught you staring at her ass as she filled the deep freeze the other night. Kinda gave it away. So this is the way you can still get some pussy while being a fuckin’ pussy.” Richie’s punching the air, clearly proud of himself.

Carmy’s smacking him upside the head, his body now torn between lust and annoyance. “Watch your mouth, alright? That is so fucked, Richie. Put that shit anyway and I better not see you tell a single other person this exists.”

And yeah, he took note of your screen name before he walked away. Don’t judge him.

———★–————————–

Look - There have been a lot of times in his life where Carmen hasn’t been proud of himself. But settling back into bed, hooking his thumbs on the waistband of his boxers and pulling them down to rest under his balls? Yeah, he’s not proud to say the least. After seeing even just the glimpse of you this morning though it’s been all he could think about. The. Whole. Fucking. Day. He watched out of the corner of his eye while you bent over the line to scrub down the wall behind your station tonight. Burning to memory the way your ass just slightly jiggled from the aggressive motion of wiping down the surface. A soft grunt coming from you as you reach for something just a little too high. He finally snapped out of it when the smell of the chemicals he sprayed down on his own surface got a little too strong and refocused.

He wasn’t proud when he ran to the restroom and contemplated just jacking off over the toilet to get some relief. You were clouding his brain, only the rush of the evening giving him some small relief.

You seemed vocal in the small clip he saw. He’s wondering if you would have asked him to cum for you. Would you think it’s a waste that he’s cumming down the drain instead of covering your ass with it? Filling your mouth and making you swallow every drop around him? Or, Jesus Christ, would you wrap your legs around his waist and beg him not to pull out?

So yeah. Carmy’s had quite the fucking day to say the least.

He’s finally home and running straight to bed. His stuff dropped in a heap by the front door and was easily forgotten. Throwing himself back onto the mattress after ripping off his shirt and his pants. Left just groaning into the empty room, his cock twitching at the thought of you. Your page has been sitting on an Incognito tab all day and it’s finally, finally being loaded up. This feels like an invasion of privacy in a way but Carmen can’t quite think logically with how heavy his balls feel and how painfully hard he is. There’s not much time to spare so he clicks the first video you’ve uploaded that he can.

And there you are.

Sitting in the middle of a big bed and rubbing your hands along your thighs, smiling at the camera. His heart is twitching, cock is twitching, everything is fucking twitching. And you’re just sitting there, licking your lips and sliding your hands under the thin material of some weird lace one piece he wants to rip off.

“Hi there, Pretty Boy.” Your voice is music to his ears and Carmy can’t take it any longer. His fist is wrapping around his cock, a broken moan filling the room as he finally gets some relief. “I’ve been waiting for you to come home all day.”

Sue him, but he’s skipping ahead a little. There’s not much time until he cums and he needs to see you. All of you. He’s gripping his phone with one hand, bringing the other that’s around his cock up to his mouth to spit in. His thumb is haphazardly trying to keep the phone balanced while scrubbing through the video until he thinks he’s at a good spot. You’re laid back now, thighs spread for the camera and pussy on display. Carmen’s muttering to himself about how gorgeous you are, longing to tell you in person. You’re holding this royal blue dildo in your hands that’s suddenly his biggest enemy. He deserves to be there, not this stupid, useless chuck of silicone. There’s a whimper from the speaker as you take the toy and slide it along yourself, tapping it twice against your clit. “Fuck, I need you.”

Fuckin’ hell does he needs you too.

His fist is clamped around his dick once again, fucking his hips up into the the slick, tight grip. You’re still teasing yourself by sticking just the head of the dildo in before gasping and pulling it back out. “Please, Baby. I need you so bad, need to come for you.” His brain is breaking. An animalistic urge taking over to fuck you until you can’t move, can’t think, just a blubbering mess begging him for more. Without warning you push the dildo all the way in, throwing your head back with a pleasured scream.

Carmy gasps, hips sputtering and losing their rhythm as he watches you fuck yourself. He’s stroking himself at the same pace you’re moving the dildo, imaging it’s you he’s fucking into. Picturing you laid under him, your breasts covered in hickies because he hates the idea of these… Perverts watching you get off. He wants to mark you, claim you as his. His balls are tightening and he can’t think of the last time he came this quick. It’s almost embarrassing - What are you doing to him?

Your free hand comes up to shove two fingers in your mouth, lewdly sucking them for the camera. The sucking noise now accompanying the wet, addictive sounds of your pussy being fucked. Carmen whimpers, actually fucking whimpers, and twists his wrist over his cock to get a little more friction. Your voice hits him once again as you slide your wet fingers out of your mouth and down your throat. “Oh fuck I’m so close. So, so close. Are you close, Baby? Want you to come with me.” You’re lightly choking yourself, a whining mess.

Carmy’s aware he’s talking to an empty room but he can’t stop himself. “Fuck, oh fuck. Gonna come for you.” And his stomach coils, hips sputter, the phone falling to the bed as he has to let go of it as his orgasm washes over him. He’s slack jaw, warm cum landing on his chest and the sounds of you finishing at the same time ringing out from his phone.

Oh he’s so fucked.

————–——★–————

Carmy slept well for once in his life. His orgasm lulling his body to sleep, dreams filled of you. How beautiful you look sucking his cock. The way you must sound while he eats you out. And he takes his time in his dream. Tongue dragging between your folds as his rough hands hold your hips in place. You’re powerless, made to lay back and let him eat you out for his own pleasure. Tongue circling around your clit but he waits until you’re close to tears to stop teasing. He’d praise you. “Look how fucking wet you are, Princess. You’re already getting the bed wet, aren’t you? Gonna have to lick you for hours to get you all cleaned up. Can you say please, huh? Ask me to suck on your clit, Baby. You know you need it.”

He woke up hard and overstimulated, rolling over onto his stomach and pathetically dragging his hips against the warm bed to get some much needed friction along his cock. Carmy’s telling himself how pathetic this is and forcing himself to push off the bed and get into the shower before he’s late.

Yes, he jacked off in the shower before work.

He had to.

Carmy can’t decide if it’s heaven or hell when he walks in to see you standing in the kitchen.

You’re on your tiptoes, balancing haphazardly as you’re reaching up to change the light. There’s a wobbly step stool under you. Everyone keeps saying it needs to be replaced but it continues to live on. Your face is scrunching up in concentration. Carmy’s chuckling at the sight and ignoring the way he feels his balls tug at the sight of you. “What’re you doing there, Chef?”

You huff in annoyance, finally untwisting the light cover from the ceiling. “Damn light went out right as I started veggie prep. Hate to be a bother but will you come spot me while I’m up on this thing? I’ve seen Fak bust his ass one too many times to trust it.”

Carmy can’t verbally respond at first, instead stalking over to stand next to you. His hand comes up to cup the back of your knee and he’s lying to himself saying it’s for your own safety. To keep you balanced. “Yea well something tells me you’re less clumsy than Fak. I’ve seen that guy fall over while just standing still.”

And you laugh.

You laugh. At him. At his joke. He, Carmen Berzatto, made you laugh. The sound filling his ears and now his damn heart and balls are both reacting to you and what the hell is he supposed to do with all these emotions.

“Don’t distract me up here, Chef.” He doesn’t mind taking commands from you. Silently reaching up to hold the light fixture you’re passing him as you change gears to switch out the lightbulbs now.

And maybe his eyes are wandering around the kitchen to see who else might catch a glimpse of you two together. Everyone who’s in so far is honed in on their prep task and Carmy thanks God that Richie hasn’t shown up yet today.

He’s become quite faithful since he started falling for you it seems.

It happens, by chance, that you feel a little unsteady and Carmen tightens his grip on the back of your leg. Fingers digging into your soft skin. He’s looking down at the stool to make sure it’s level before looking up to take in the sight that is his hand around your leg.

And he stops looking there.

Okay fine that’s a fucking lie - he’s looking up. Eyes trailing up your thighs, following along the curve of your ass. When you have to lean forward just slightly to twist in the light cover he’s convinced he can see the outline of your pussy through the thin material of your leggings. He’s contemplating his options - If he could, would he lean in and lick over the outline? His warm mouth teasing you through your leggings. Through your underwear. Are you wearing underwear? He’s torn between picturing you with or without them.

Or would he slide his hand up your leg, palming your thigh as he goes. Cupping over you and dragging his middle finger across the shape of you. Memorizing the feeling. Would you whine? Grind down against his hand? He doesn’t think you’d shoo his touch away.

God he just knows you’re a needy little thing.

He wonders what it would feel like for you to lick your own wetness from his jaw after he’s decided he’s done savoring you. To taste you on your own tongue when he kissed you after. You’d look so pretty with his cum dripping down your lips too. All fucked out and exhausted and full of bliss.

“Okay, I think I got it fixed, Carmy.” God, he’s so fucked for thinking of you like this as you’re innocently changing the light. Just trying to improve the kitchen and he’s thinking about ruining you. He was so caught up in daydreaming that he didn’t even feel you take the light cover back out of his hand and screw it into place again.

You’re beaming down at him, using his shoulders as arm rests as you bounce down from the stepping stool. His hand grazes your ass - A total accident. He swears it. You reach behind him to sit the screwdriver down, your chest firmly against his. Nothing thinking anything of the personal space violation as you’re used to it from so many slammed nights in the kitchen.

“Thank you for helping me. Sorry it was basically just five minutes of my ass in your face.” Carmy chokes.

His cheeks are hot.

Fuck is he blushing?

He’s sputtering out of his words. “It uh, it wasn’t in my face. Not that I looked, y’know. Just uh… Just - just trying to say that I’m happy to help.” He sounds like an idiot

You’re cocking an eyebrow, clearly entertained. “Holy shit, Carmy.” You pat your hands against his chest, not knowing your touch was like fire on his skin. He grabs the screwdriver and makes a beeline to the office to put it away for you.

Sure he grabbed a rag on the way. No it’s not for him to jack off into while he thinks of you.

Okay fine, it is.

“Fuck me.” The only thing Carmy can risk trying to say as the door shuts heavy behind him and his pants hit the ground.

———————–★–———

Carmen doesn’t avoid you now but he certainly makes it hard to get close to you. He’s too distracted when you’re around. Maybe there’s a bit of guilt mixed in too at his new night routine. Leave the restaurant, load your page, and wait to see what happens. New videos? New pictures? You were wormed into the back of his brain and it had to stop.

So your station got moved further down rotation. You’re at the end of the line on the left, he’s at the start on the right. It helps clear his mind, lets him hone in on perfecting what goes to the floor.

He’s able to move quickly, shifts blowing by as the restaurant’s rush takes all his attention. The clock clicks down two minutes till close, everyone working in silence to get the place flipped and go home. He’s wrapping up with Syd, helping her make a few adjustments to expo before grabbing a dead plate off of the end of the line and heading to the office with his food and a cup of water in hand. He needs a mental minute, a bite of food, and to let his thoughts all catch up.

The door’s already cracked and he’s halfway through the entry way when he registers you. Sitting there. At his desk. Your legs are crossed, a cool damp towel resting over your eyes. He wants to turn on his heel and retreat but decides that he can’t treat you any differently just because he’s developed some silly little crush. Running away would be treating you different.

“You good, Chef?”

To which you groan. Different from the ones he’s used to - This one is guttural, pained. You press your hands flat against the rag and will the cool temperature to help the pressure in your head. “Killer migraine, that’s all. Shit was moving so fast tonight and I wacked the back of my head on something in the walk in. Sorry for being in here, Carm. Just uh, needed a second.” You should push up out of the chair, show your respect. But right now you’re half convinced that standing up would be detrimental so for now you’re cemented to the seat.

“Heard.” Carmen nods to himself, sitting down the plate before opening up the desk drawer as quietly as possible. Your knee is pressing into the side of his thigh, grounding and warm. He fishes out a bottle of medicine, shaking out two pills. “Hold out your hand.”

You take a second to brace yourself for movement, sitting up and moving the towel off your eyes. Letting it pile up into a clump on the desk besides you. There’s no way around it - You look pitiful. Pouting up at Carmen as he hands over two pills and his cup out water. You take the pills diligently, taking a few gulps and letting your eyes fall back closed as you will them to kick in instantly. “Can I ask a favor?”

“Anything, Chef.”

Slowly, so not to shake yourself up, you turn the chair until your back is to Carmen. “Will you see if I gotta bump back there? Kinda terrified I gave myself a concussion but I don’t wanna believe it was that hard.”

He snickering, a grin pulling up the corners of his mouth as he steps closer. “Well you’d absolutely fuck me if you needed to file workmen’s comp so I’m gonna need you to be fine, ‘kay? Way too much fuckin’ paperwork to do on a Friday night.” You start to laugh but it’s quickly cut off into a small groan of appreciation as you feel warm, rough hands clasp either side of your shoulders.

Carmen works his way up your neck and catches himself holding his breath as his fingers brush along your scalp. He’s taking his time, savoring the moment, all under the pretense of taking care of his employee. That’s all. “Think we’re both in the clear. You feeling alright besides the headache? Need me to hold up some fingers for ya to guess? Haven’t managed to cut any off so we’ve got all ten to work with.” He’s got you laughing again while rough fingers work their way back down to your neck. The feeling of the vibration of your laughter against his hands sending chills down his back.

Wordlessly Carmen gets to work rubbing your shoulders. Tender, deep. Years of practice rolling out dough and desserts and tenderizing meat coming into play as he continues to knead away at your tense body. You let out an appreciative moan and Carmen has to start thinking of something to keep his inevitable hard on from being obvious.

When his hands come up closer to your neck once again he’s hit with flashbacks of the first video he watched. You choking yourself — Is that something you truly liked? If his hand came around to cup your throat, palm resting on one side with his fingertips firmly against the other, and lightly squeezed would you moan? Rub your thighs together in search of some hint of relief?

“Are you always this good with your hands, Chef? Hmm? Can’t imagine you giving Marcus this treatment.” You’re laughing and can practically hear the smirk in Carmen’s voice as he responds. “Yeah - You uh, didn’t know that? I just love you know, rubbing shoulders. It’s my thing. Kick your ass all night and then rub the stress out.”

He’s blanching a little at his reply. Kinda obvious but okay then, Carmen. You reach up, putting your hands atop his with a little smile. “Well thank you for… Rubbing my stress out, Chef.”

Carmen’s red. Head to toe just bright red. “Of course, Chef. Anytime.” He’s entertaining to say the least as you pat his hands before spinning around in his chair. You snag another drink of water, throwing him a wink before moving to exit the office. Your hand runs along his chest, an appreciative gesture, as you head back to the floor.

——————————★–

Late Saturday night Carmen’s so exhausted that he barely has the energy to take his work clothes off. Falling haphazardly onto his old couch, kicking his work boots off one at a time. His eyes are heavy, body aching, and he almost falls asleep before he gets to see you.

But he’s fishing his phone from his pocket, refreshing the all too familiar landing page to see you’re actively live. How you have the energy is beyond him.

You’re standing there trying on clothes that someone must send in and Carmy feels a pang of jealousy. He’s watching through half hooded eyes as you slip in a pair of shorts, turning your behind towards the camera and pulling them up just slightly to put more of your ass on display. You’re chatting away about the material while slowly pulling them down to reveal just this frilly little pair of panties that was sent in as well.

He’s propping the phone up on the armrest of the couch, laying on his side while he watches you chat away. It’s soothing. Almost like an ASMR video.

Carmen’s not sure when he fell asleep - Somewhere in-between you trying on a third outfit and attempting to clean up your bed from all the packaging. He finds you soothing, comforting. He makes a mental note to hunt out some sort of wish list you must have for these items before passing out and, once again, dreaming of you.

#carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto smut #carmy berzatto smut #so many versions of his name #🤍: the bear #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #♡: carmen berzatto #the bear x reader #the bear smut #the bear #carmy x reader #carmy x you #carmy smut #carmen x reader #carmy berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x you

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ahgasegotarmy116 · 1 year ago

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Just Take It | Jeon Jungkook | Part One

Summary: Some of your closest friends betray you and somehow push you into the arms of someone unsuspected. Pairing: Inexperienced f!reader x Best Friend's Dad Jungkook (20 year age gap) Word Count: 5.7k Warnings: Mentions of cheating resulting in pregnancy and explicit language...I think that's it lol (Barely edited per usual lmao) a/n: You guys seemed really excited for this fic so I'm gonna make it a miniseries since even the poll results were so close so anyways I hope you enjoy!

"Is everything ready?" I ask my best friend Jina for the hundredth time today. "Yes y/n calm down. This party is going to be perfect don't worry" she says with a smile that doesn't reach her eyes, making me even more apprehensive but decide it's best to just take her for her word instead of digging deeper.

"You're right, I should probably just go back upstairs and get ready huh?" I say and start heading upstairs to take the curlers out of my hair and finish up my makeup in her old bedroom. "Let me know if you need help, I'll just be putting the finishing touches on everything in the meantime" she calls after me and I respond with a quick 'okay' before running up the rest of the steps I had been ascending.

I walk down the hallway lost in thought and am stopped in my tracks when I find myself bumping into someone, almost falling over but he luckily catches me before I even have a chance to stumble back more than a few steps.

"Careful there" he teases and I look up and apologize immediately. "I'm sorry Mr. Jeon I wasn't watching where I was going" I say quickly and he smiles at my flustered state. "It's okay darling don't worry about it" he says in a deep tone that has always gotten to me. I take a quick step back to create some much needed distance and to cover up the awkwardness that had settled in.

"Thank you again for letting us hold our engagement party in your home. Are you sure you still don't mind?" I ask him as well for the hundredth time as if we had time to change things with mine and my fiancé's relatives already on the way.

"Y/n if I minded I would've said no a long time ago. Don't worry, I'd do anything for you, since you and Jared have been such amazing friends to my daughter. It truly means more to me than you know" he says placing his hand on my bicep to aide in showing his sincerity.

"Of course Mr. Jeon. Moving to a new state in the middle of your Sophomore year of college has gotta be difficult for anyone so I'm just happy we could be there for her" I say smiling up at him. He stares at me for a second, studying my features before breaking out of the slight trace he had caught himself in to continue the conversation.

"I'm sorry you're probably wanting to finish getting ready and I'm holding you up" he says taking his hand off of me and stepping aside so I can walk down the hallway to my intended destination.

"Don't worry about it. We've got plenty of time as it is so I'm in no rush. Thanks again Mr Jeon" I say, quickly wrapping up the conversation and walk into Jina's room. Before I'm able to close the door though he makes it a point to remind me of something I've always forgotten.

"Haven't we agreed upon calling me Jungkook? Mr. Jeon makes me feel so old" he teases and we both laugh at his words. "Thank you, Jungkook" I say and he smiles, satisfied with the change. "You're welcome" he replies with an heir of sensuality that leaves my brain buzzing and I close the door before either of us has the chance to say another word.

He's always made me nervous but why does today feel different? It's not like his playful nature is anything new. He's acted like this since the first day I met him and when I had brought it up to Jina she just said he was being friendly so I never really gave it a second thought.

There's no denying he's a handsome man and from what I can tell him and his ex wife had Jina when they were quite young so he's not anywhere near old enough to make it seem a bit strange but I tend to just deal with the butterflies by ignoring them as much as I can.

He makes sure to be respectful when Jared's around and he hasn't crossed any lines to my knowledge so I don't mind it. It makes me feel confident more than anything and I don't think there's anything wrong with that.

I shake off those thoughts and finish getting ready before I start to panic about being late and end up finishing up a lot sooner than I had planned and as I'm putting on my heels I hear a faint knock at the door.

"Come in" I call out and my fiancé pops his head in from behind the door. "Aw I thought I would catch you while you were changing" he says with a fake pout leaving me smiling and shaking my head at him. "You'll get to do that plenty of times once we're married you pervert" I tease and he scoffs playfully.

"You know, now that I think about it I kind of am a pervert aren't I?" he says while stalking towards me, making my breath hitch and my adrenaline start pumping but I have to tell myself to calm down before I do anything stupid. "After the wedding I warn and he backs off like he always does.

I smile and get up from the bed I had been sitting on and give him a quick kiss but he holds onto the back of my neck, keeping me there for a little while longer and deepening the kiss. "You look gorgeous" he whispers against my lips and I smile before giving him a quick peck and pulling back to look at him.

"You don't look half bad yourself" I taunt and he scoffs before granting me a sarcastic 'thank you'. "I'm kidding baby you look handsome as always" I say and he smiles at that and places a quick kiss on my cheek before taking my hand and leading me downstairs to where we're met with a few of our family and friends having already arrived.

"You should've told me they were here sooner" I whisper to him while I wave at them as we walk downstairs. "I didn't want to rush you" he replies, giving my hand a gentle squeeze leaving my heart fluttering at how thoughtful he had been.

"Thank you love" I say looking at him as if he's the only one I need. "For what?" he chuckles, studying my features almost as if he's committing them to memory. "For wanting to marry me" I say and he laughs at my cute sentiment. "Thank you for saying yes" he replies and at that we start mingling together throughout the crowd and thanking everyone for coming.

~~~~~

We part ways after a few more groups of people come in and around the time we're going to bring out the champagne I start to look around to see if I can find him so we can both be ready to make a toast once everyone's gotten a glass.

As I look around and ask a few people where he might be they point toward the far end of the house where not many people had wandered to and so I curiously make my way over to the room I had assumed he would be in but before I'm even able to put my hand on the door I hear the voices of not only Jared but Jina as well.

"We have to tell her" I hear her say and stop short, my heartbeat immediately raising as I hold my breath, waiting for the response. "You told me you were on the pill though. How did this happen?" and at that my heart breaks. "I don't know I guess I forgot to take a couple of them and-" "And so what? You decided that screwing me without protection would work out just fine? Fuck Jina" Jared cuts her off and I hold my hand over my mouth to stop the sobs that I know are sure to come.

"You were the one that said you wanted to stop using them" she defends. "Oh and so now it's my fault. Jina we both agreed to that and you know it" he says and at that the room falls silent for a moment before he speaks up again.

"What are we gonna do?" he mumbles, leaving the choice in her hands. "We need to tell her because I'm not getting rid of this baby. I don't care if you're going to be in our kid's life or not but either way we're telling her" she says, standing firm on what she thinks is right. 'She should've thought about that before she started fucking my boyfriend' I think to myself and wait for the conversation to continue.

"She deserves to know" she says in a hushed tone and they both agree moments later that they'll tell me after the party to avoid both of our families catching wind of it and at that I walk away as quietly as I can, heading to the bathroom across the house to collect myself before I even try to face anyone.

'How the fuck could they do this to me? How could they do this to us? Did everything the three of us did together really not matter? All of this love that I gave Jared and he gave me made me feel like we were gonna last forever but I guess my wants and needs weren't enough for him. He wanted what he wanted and found that in my best fucking friend.

I chuckle dryly at that thought and how ironic it sounds at the moment. The wants to avoid the drama of the rest of the family knowing? Well they don't have that kind of luxury anymore.

I collect myself a few moments later and make my way out of the bathroom to intermingle again until I happen upon my soon to be ex fiancé in the crowd.

"Hey honey" I say and I can see him trying to hold back the guilt at my words and I hold back from ripping his head off for the sake of what I'm about to do. "Should we go ahead and bring out the champagne and make a toast?" I ask and he nods his head agreeing wordlessly.

"Great I'll ask Jina to help us out" I say and I can see how stiff his whole body becomes after I mention her name and he laughs it off and walks closer to me and I hold out my hand for him and guide us both over to where we've placed everything for the toasts.

~~~~

"Does everyone have a glass?" I call out and everyone says yes and Jina makes her way around, filling everyone's glasses but her own. "Okay great Jina go ahead and grab a glass and then if you guys don't mind we'd like to pose a toast!" I say and everyone places their full attention on both Jared and I who are standing side by side.

I watch as Jina tentatively fills her glass half full knowing full well that she won't be drinking any of that but I singled her out as a way to make her even more uncomfortable. Serves her right honestly but it's only just begun.

"Okay everyone, firsts things first I would just like to thank all of you for coming. It is just so wonderful we could all gather here together and the fact that you all made the effort to come and celebrate Jared and I is just something that I won't ever forget so thank you again from the bottom of my heart" I say and hear murmurs of 'You're welcome's and 'Thank you for inviting us' throughout the crowd and I continue on after those die down.

"Another person I would like to thank would be my best friend who I couldn't have any of this without her including being able to host this party in her's and her father's wonderful home so thank you both for that" I continue and I look for Jungkook in the crowd and see him raising his glass to me and I turn my attention to Jina moments later and see the forced smile on her face and I smile back at her and take a deep breath before continuing.

"You know Jina has been such a great friend to both Jared and I and the countless memories we've made together are something that I'll always hold close to my heart. One memory in particular is one that I think we'll all remember for the rest of our lives is one that I would like to share with you all" I say and I watch as Jared and Jina make nervous glances at each other but I hear the room fill with words mentioning how cute our friendship is and how it's nice to have close friends that get along. Oh boy they're about to know just how well we all get along.

"This one actually just happened not too long ago, in fact it was just today wasn't it guys?" I say making eye contact with the both of them and I can see as both of them realize that they've been caught.

"Yeah it's funny I was looking for Jared not too long ago to try to find where he had scurried off to and low and behold I found him and Jina having a cute little chat together just over there" I say and motion to the secluded part of the house where they had been and I see the crowd go from happy to confused.

"They had been talking about how they had a surprise and they needed to tell me after the party but I figured that I would just give them an opportunity to say it now so all of us can hear it together. Would you guys like to share it with everyone?" I ask the two of them and wait a few moments before Jared tries to shut me down.

"I think that's probably a conversation we should have in private right Jina?" Jared says, pleading with her to back him up. "Oh are you guys too shy? Don't worry I can say it" I counter, brushing him off. "Y/n I don't really think that's necessary" Jina now tries to reason with me but I'm way too far gone by now.

"Why not? Doesn't everyone deserve to know that you're pregnant" I say, pausing for the rest of the family to smile at the surprise and some of them start to congratulate her but before they can get too far I continue on.

"Yeah she's pregnant with Jared's baby! Isn't that so sweet?" I say and at that point the room goes so silent you would hear a pin drop and I break it by continuing to rub salt into the wound.

"I know right? It's so crazy isn't it? It was a surprise to me too. Congratulations to the both of you" I say and down my drink while they stand there speechless as does the rest of the crowd.

"So yeah anyways thank you all so much for coming and get home safe!" I say and make an exit into the backyard while Jared and Jina chase after me.

"Y/n, y/n wait. Please" Jina calls after me first, following as I make my way over to the clearing behind the house and away from prying eyes. "Why should I wait huh? It's not like you waited and thought 'Hey maybe it's not the best idea to be raw doggin my best friend's boy friend' or were you guys still fucking by the time you asked me to marry you?" I ask the two of them and they both just stand there in silence.

"You know what, you guys are perfect for each other. The whore I thought was my best friend and the whore who chased after her because neither of you could keep it in your pants. Thanks a lot, have a nice life" I say and storm off into the small clearing behind Jungkook's house, praying they won't follow me.

"Oh and another thing" I say before walking too far, "I'm keeping the ring to compensate for emotional damage you bastard" I spit at my ex and his jaw drops, never having heard words like that come out of my mouth ever let alone directed at him.

"Baby wait I can explain" he says trying a pathetic excuse of trying to get me to get him to hear him out. "Pretty sure I heard everything I needed to hear when you were having your little rendezvous earlier" I say, fully admitting to listening in on their conversation.

"If I never see either of you again it'll be too soon" I say and continue on into the clearing, walking just far enough to be out of their view. "We really fucked up didn't we?" I hear Jina say and soon hear Jared scoff in return. "We fucked up? No you fucked up! You should've been more responsible" he throws back at her and storms off. "What the fuck Jared don't you dare walk away from me" she yells and chases after him, following him back into the house.

After taking a few deep breaths and convincing myself over and over again that this is for the best and I'm better off without them I slowly make my way back into the yard and sit on the bench that's furthest away from everything, hoping no one finds me out here. Luckily it does the trick and I'm able to avoid facing anyone from the party and soon hear all of their cars leaving and the place falls silent.

"They're all gone now if you want to come inside" Jungkook says, walking over to me tentatively, making sure he doesn't do something to make me run off. I look up at him with a tear streaked face and try to smile but ultimately end up hanging my head, hiding what little emotions I've let myself show and he walks over and sits on the far side of the bench I'm on. He doesn't say anything, he just sits with me and lets me ride the wave of emotions I'm feeling but also letting me know he's there if I need him.

I let out a few shaky breath after having let a few more tears fall before collecting myself and drying my eyes. "I'm sorry" I whisper and he turns towards me with a confused look on his face. "Whatever for?" he questions, puzzled as to why I could possibly be apologizing.

"For the show I put on back there. I was just so mad when I overheard them talking and I don't know, I felt like I wanted to humiliate them since they decided to fuck behind my back like how fucked up can you be to sleep with your best friend's boyfriend?" I spout off and then look over and remember who I'm talking to.

"I- I didn't mean. I'm sorry Mr. Jeon" I apologize again and hang my head in shame. I'm met with a chuckle as a response and when I look up at him I can see that he's clearly very amused. "What's so funny?" I question and he continues to laugh.

"I'm sorry darling, just seeing how horrified you looked when you remembered that you were talking shit about Jina to her father was kind of hilarious and honestly adorable" he chuckles and I let out a breath and smile at him, happy he wasn't offended by it.

"I wasn't thinking straight, I'm sorry" I apologize again, feeling so so guilty for bringing all of this drama to his house. "Hey, you have nothing to apologize for" he says softly, placing his hand on top on mine. The one that happens to be sitting on my thigh and I gulp at the sight of his big hand enveloping the sight of my hand and now has his fingers resting high up on the inside of my thigh.

"It's not your fault that they're both fucked up and you got caught in the crossfire okay? So please don't apologize about that again" he says and I nod my head mindlessly, my eyes still focused on the hand that is now squeezing my thigh in reassurance but I can't get past the feeling of having his hands on me like this.

He stands up a second later, taking his hand off of me and I look up at him, almost as if questioning why he stopped and he simply smiles at my cute reaction. "Let's head inside alright? It's gonna start getting cold out here soon" he says and I nod my head, wordlessly following him back into his home.

"Did you want a drink?" he asks and I jump at the opportunity. "Yeah I'll just take this" I say while grabbing one of the barely opened champagne bottles. "Did you want a glass?" he chuckles, watching as I take a big gulp out of the bottle. "No need, this is fine. Might as well not let it go to waste right?" I say and he hums in acknowledgement while poring himself a drink.

I walk around his living room and take in everything about it, reminiscing about all the memories and shared laughter there had been here over the last couple of years and find my mind wandering a bit. "I'm really gonna miss this place" I say, meaning to keep it to myself but accidentally voicing it loud enough for Jungkook to hear as well.

"You're welcome to come back here anytime you'd like" he replies, startling me when I realize he's gotten closer and is now sitting on the couch directly behind where I stand, facing the mantle and looking at the various pictures placed on it. Pictures of Jina, Jared and I over the years, ones that no doubt Jungkook had taken.

"I always hated this picture" I say mindlessly and I hear him get up off the couch so he can see which one I'm referring to. "Oh the one where I took all of you to the beach house a few years ago for your birthday? Why? Didn't you have fun?" Jungkook questions, genuinely surprised with my reaction to it.

"No it's not that, I had a great time. I just feel like I look like a wet dog in that picture" I admit and I'm granted with a little chuckle beside me. "Hey" I whine and glance over at him, my breath hitching when I realize just how close he's gotten.

"You know what? Now that I think about it I don't really like that picture either" he says and I turn my body to fully face him, highly offended and demanding he explain himself. "I didn't like the way that Jared was touching you that day. He couldn't keep his hands off you and I know that it was making you uncomfortable" he says, lowering his voice an octave and causing a shiver to run through my body.

"How did you-" "When a man really pays attention and cares for you he can tell from the slightest change how their woman is feeling. I guess he just never got the memo" he says, glaring at Jared in the picture and how he unashamedly has his hand placed directly on my ass while I'm wearing a swimsuit that I had already felt uncomfortable in in the first place.

My mind goes into overdrive with what those words could've possibly meant. 'Was he paying that close of attention to me that he noticed something small like that? Has he been jealous of Jared? Does he care for me?' are just some of the questions that start swirling around in my brain and before I can register what had happened next he's gone and sat on the couch and is suggesting I come sit down as well.

"You've had a long day don't you think?" he asks and I nod my head and sit on the other side of the couch making sure to keep proper distance between us. "Yeah I guess you could say that" I chuckle dryly and take a drink from the champagne bottle I still have in my hand but end up spilling it on myself.

"Shit" I say and Jungkook quickly grabs a napkin to help clean up having spilled some on the couch as well. "I'm sorry" I apologize, constantly finding more and more reasons to apologize and he shuts me down again. "A little champagne never hurt anybody don't worry about it" he says, brushing it off and leaving me feeling a little less guilty.

"Why don't I grab you a glass and give you some of my clothes to wear so if we have another little mishap it won't be as big of a deal" he offers and before I can refuse he's already given me a glass and is halfway up the stairs. Gosh my brain really must be working in slow motion already.

~~~~~

After Jungkook gives me a big t shirt and sweats I change into them and tie the drawstring tight to aide in keeping the pants up and look in the mirror of the bathroom I had been changing in and realize how much of a mess I look like right now with smudges of mascara under my eyes and my nose all red from all of the crying I had been doing earlier.

I quickly wash and dry my face and throw my hair up and out of the way since at this point theres no saving this look and just accept defeat, walking out in my now more casual look and find him sporting an almost identical one.

"Feel better?" he asks and I nod my head and walk towards where he's standing. "Come here" he says holding out his arm and pulling me into a hug. I melt in his embrace and almost start tearing up a bit again, but push back a little and softly break apart from his embrace before the two of us sit down.

"I don't know how to feel honestly. I feel angry and sad and betrayed and relieved and heart broken and I don't know. I'm just confused" I start and he nods his head, encouraging me to continue and so I do.

"We've been together since before Jina and I had ever met and things had always been so good between us and then when Jina came along it felt like things had gotten even better if that's makes sense. We had our three amigos group going and whenever we were together it felt like the rest of the world didn't matter. Or I guess at least that's how I felt" I say and take a shaky breath in and out before preparing to say the next part.

"When Jared and I got together, I told him right off the bat that I wanted to save myself for marriage and he respected that. I will admit that we both had gotten close to breaking that boundary I set once or twice but he always backed off when I asked him to and I was thankful for that. Guys my age or guys in general don't really respect that sort of outlook anymore so the fact that he was more or less willing to date me after knowing that gave me hope for us" I say, letting everything off my chest.

I down my glass and pour myself another one before continuing on and I take into account that he's watching my every move. "I figured 'If he had a problem with it and got tired of it then he would've dumped me' or 'He's had really good self control all of these years so that must mean there's something special between us'. So when he asked me to marry him I said yes without thinking twice. I had my knight in shining armor, the one who waited for me and I couldn't be happier" I scoff, taking another gulp of champagne.

"Looks like he waited to have me but got someone else to fulfill his needs on the side" I mumble and down the rest of my glass before pouring another and I can see the concern in Jungkook's eyes growing but I pay no mind to it.

"You know after all that I just can't help but wonder 'Was it all worth it? Was saving myself and in the end losing the man I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with worth it?' At this point my virginity is becoming more of a hassle than anything and honestly I don't want it anymore" I say, finally voicing how I had been feeling about keeping myself pure for a while.

"I feel like it would be best if I just got it over with and went on with my life you know?" I say, finally looking at Jungkook and I can see how dilated his pupils are and how ragged his breath has gotten, doing a horrible job at concealing it.

"Can I ask you something Mr. Jeon?" I question, leaning towards him, a new gained confidence flowing through me from all the alcohol that I had consumed in such a short time. Downing glass after glass throughout our whole evening. "Jungkook" he rasps and I feel a fluttery feeling building in my stomach.

"I'm sorry, I always seem to forget. Jungkook, can I ask you something?" I repeat placing my hand on his thigh, feeling the muscle tense up at the contact but he nods nevertheless and waits for me to continue. "How old were you when you lost your virginity?" I question, wondering what his experience might've been like.

"Um, when I was about eighteen I guess. It was right before I graduated high school" he answers truthfully and I nod my head, mulling over what I plan to say next.

"It seems like a man of your age has had his fair share of sex am I right?" I ask and see him gulp at my assumption. "I guess you could say that" he responds and leans back a bit when I get closer. "Mr. Jeon do you have a girlfriend right now? Someone you might be seeing?" I ask, making sure that in my tipsy state I won't make the same mistake my hopeless excuse of a best friend and ex made.

"No, I uh I'm not seeing anyone" he says quickly and I nod my head and wait a moment to get my words together. "Do you think you would mind taking my virginity?" I ask and at that his jaw drops, not expecting to be asked something like that straight away but in this state I guess you could say I'm full of surprises.

"I- What?" he asks, confused and concerned as to if I actually meant what I said and not only that but clarifying to make sure he's heard me right. "I'm asking you if you would take my virginity. You said you'd do anything for me remember?" reminding him of his words from earlier in the day.

"Y/n I think you might've had a little bit too much to drink" he says scooting back from me to create some distance but I close that distance moments later. "No I'm fine, I haven't even had that much silly" I say, slowly starting to slur my words but still conscious enough to make them coherent.

"Look I think that's something you should keep until you have a chance to give it to someone special. Someone who you care about and cares about you too" he says, trying to softly reject me but it falls of deff ears.

"I care about you though. Don't you care about me?" I pout and he shakes his head and tries hard to hide a smile but fails. "Of course I care about you darling but I think you're too confused and too drunk to be making this sort of decision" he say holding my shoulders at arms length to keep me from getting any closer to him.

"It's okay Mr. Jeon I know what I'm doing. Oh! I mean Jungkook" I say cutely, leaning in a bit more and his arms give in, letting me get a bit closer so as to not harm either one of us. "Don't worry I won't tell Jina" I say and he clears this throat at the sound of his daughter's name.

"Y/n I really don't think this is a good idea" he says, watching almost helplessly as I place my hand on his shoulder and use it to anchor myself as I climb onto his lap and although his words have said otherwise, his hands are the ones that guide me by my hips to sit on his lap, giving me a boost of confidence in my decision.

"Can you do this for me?" I ask and his eyes ping pong between mine, seeing how blown out my pupils are and notices how hot my skin has become. He stays silent and just takes in all of my features and waits for my next move. I lean in closer to him and run my fingers through the hair on the nape of his neck.

"Just take it" I say against his lips and without a seconds hesitation he grabs the back of my head and smashes his lips against mine.

It's a mess of lips and tongue and teeth, accompanied by the sound of him groaning and pulling me closer and me moaning at the feeling of being desired by someone like him. Someone strong and confident and undeniably sexy. Someone who wants me just as much as I want him but before I can fully grasp what's about to happen I feel myself slipping away and lose control of my body.

"Y/n?" Jungkook questions feeling my body slump against him after I had broken the kiss and rested my head on his shoulder. He smiles at the realization that I had fallen asleep in the midst of it all and wordlessly stands up, carrying me off into the guest bedroom and laying me down to sleep there for the night.

"Goodnight darling" he says, placing a kiss on my forehead before walking out of the room and slowly closing the door behind him.

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topazadine · 9 months ago

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Writing Post Masterlist

All my posts about writing - plus some I absolutely loved by other writers.

Masterlists by Other People (all good)

"Writing Tips Masterpost" by @deception-united - Deception-United has an incredibly wealth of resources available, far more comprehensive and detailed than mine. Go check it out!

"WQA Post Master Lists" by @writingquestionsanswered - Another fantastic and wonderfully comprehensive resource that covers damn near everything you need to know about writing. Genuinely one of the best free resources on writing that you could find on the internet.

General Advice for a Happy Writing Life

"The Myth of the Martyr Artist" - An incredibly important post, perhaps my most important one ever, that discusses why mental illness is a burden, not a benefit. I have no idea why this even needs to be said, but it does, apparently.

"Building Self-Esteem as a Writer" - Why you gotta be nice to yourself. You gotta.

"Identifying bad writing advice" - Warning signs that the post you are reading kinda sucks and you should click off.

"Advice to Beginner Writers: The Good, the Bad, and the Unpleasant" - How long it takes to become a good writer, what to focus on when learning, and why fanfic is such a useful tool.

"Mindset Shifts: Fanfiction -> Original Fiction" - What fanfic writers should know about deciding to take on original characters and stories.

"Defeating Protracted Writer's Block" - What to do when you find it impossible to write for days, weeks, or months at a time.

"Five Common Anxieties of Newbie Writers, Demystified" - Explorations of five mindsets that can set younger writers back as they learn their craft, including overcompetitiveness, overdescribing, and fearing they're "too old."

"Good Motivations for Continuing to Write" - Why it is crucial to have a passion for writing beyond fame and fortune.

"Extremely controversial writing opinions that will make you mad (but I'm going to say them anyway)" - Things you really don't want to hear, but need to be said. A bit of tough love, including the insignificance of ideas, the cold hard truth about how non-writers react to your writing, and the essentiality of having a well-rounded life.

"Why Mindfulness Is a Key Practice for Writers" - On the need to slow down and let our brain rest - plus some options that are categorically not sitting there in dead silence (boring).

"Writing When Happy" - Wherein I hijack someone's question to discuss the Myth of the Martyr Artist, why we might self-limit because of it, and how to do the impossible: write when we're happy.

"The Neurodivergent Writer’s Guide to Fun and Productivity" by @bookishdiplodocus - Excellent advice on how enjoying the process and reminding yourself that writing is supposed to be fun can help you stay motivated and productive, even when your brain is not cooperating.

"The Glorification of Self-Deprecation in Art/Writing Spaces" by @nicolkoutoulakiauthor - I've discussed before how crucial it is to have a healthy self-esteem when writing, but Nicol does it even better here. Nicol also includes some excellent reframing tactics so you can stay motivated.

Generalish Writing Advice (multifactorial)

"Signs That You Will Probably Finish Your Writing Project" - An analysis of the mindset that leads to results, and encouragement on how to develop them.

"'How Do I Start Writing?'" (Or; A Psychoanalysis of Newbie Writer Fears) - Inspired by the dozens of Reddit posts that ask this exact same thing, often with useless responses. So why do people ask this? I offer my theory.

"I Can Think of Ideas But Can't Write Them!" - A consideration of the many reasons you might find it difficult to get started on your precious idea-baby.

"How to elevate your writing style with 6 simple hacks" - Information about how to develop a prettier prose style, catch errors, develop good dialogue, and focus on brevity.

"How to improve your writing style : a 5-steps guide" by @writer-logbook - Especially great information on why reading widely is so helpful for your craft!

"Some Writing Advice" by @whispers-whump - Especially great discussion of why you shouldn't write what you mean.

"Practical Writing Advice Part 2" by @so-many-ocs - Does what it says on the tin. Simple, easy-to-follow advice that can break you out of writer's block.

"25 Prose Tips for Writers" by @thewriteadviceforwriters - I absolutely love the emphasis on sound and harmony here. As someone whose entire book series revolves around the magic of poetry, of course I think this is incredibly important advice!

"Pacing and Show Don't Tell" by @mylordshesacactus - Two for one deal! First, learn more about why pacing is important; then, look at some examples of the classic advice "show, don't tell." The post does a great job on breaking down what show don't tell actually means and what is not a violation of this guideline so that newer writers aren't confused.

Writing tools

"How to Build a Sustainable Writing Habit Through SCIENCE (Fuck Off, NaNoWriMo)" - Why NaNoWriMo doesn't actually motivate young writers and how to do better through a spreadsheet (yes, really, a spreadsheet). It also explains the importance of intrinsic motivation!

"'I've Outlined Too Much and Now I Can't Write!' (Or: the Double Outline Method for Overanxious Plotters)" - Some of us tend to go absolutely ham on our outlines, to the point where they're practically their own books. But then we also tend to not actually do the writing attached to said outline. Does this mean outlining is useless? Of course not. My method lets you have your outline and eat it too. (.... Wait.)

"'How Do I Make Myself Start Writing?' (Tips to Get the Damn Thing Done) - In this post, I provide a step-by-step guide to start writing, including a few tools to help improve motivation and concentration.

"How to Write Faster (And, Hopefully, Better Too)" - Eliminating distractions and forcing your brain to write is key to getting more done. Here, I explain how you might be limiting yourself by too much thinking and not enough doing.

Worldbuilding

"Stop Making Everything So Damn Complicated!" - Why fantasy (and scifi) does not need to be dizzyingly intricate to be enjoyable.

"How to Kick Ass at Worldbuilding" - I offer some suggestions on how to create a grounded and interesting world that will not bore your readers, based on real life examples.

"Grounded vs. Airy Fantasy" by @aethersea - Excellent breakdown of different levels of groundedness in fantasy and why it's important to understand your own approach.

"Fantasy Guide to Building a Culture" by @inky-duchess - Thorough and methodical analysis of what can create a compelling fantasy culture, including those things that many fail to think about when writing.

"Writing tip - Research" by @pygmi-cygni - Fantastic assessment of the importance of research, including for fantasy stories. As Pygmi-Cygni said, a lot of people claim that they don't need to do any research for fantasy novels, which isn't true! Any parallels to IRL need to be realistic, or you will lose credibility.

Plotting

"How to Use Chomolungma for Writing Adventure Stories; Or, the Plot Mountain Method" - If you're sick of saving felines who should really figure their own shit out, it's time to head to Plot Mountain. In this post, I offer you an alternative to the formulaic "Save the Cat" and "Hero's Journey" which also incorporates tension, characterization, and forward momentum.

"Avoiding Melodrama In Your Writing" - The most annoying all things: melodrama. My least favorite thing. Do not do it. I will show you how.

"How to Find a Plot When All You Have is Characters and Setting" by @rheas-chaos-motivation - This is a common problem for many writers, when you have cool characters or an intriguing setting. This short post can help you kickstart your ideas for how to create an intriguing plot that has built-in tension.

Description

"Remembering Perspective When Writing Descriptions" - Key factors to think about when describing other characters or settings from your POV.

"Description, Momentum, and Tension; Or, How Not to Bore a Reader" - Why, when, and where to put description so that people don't skip over it. Hopefully.

"Writing Notes: Seasons" - Each season has both benefits and downsides. In this post, we look at the negatives and positive aspects of each so you can decide how a particular season may strengthen your themes - plus some descriptions to help inspire you.

"Writing Advice: Spicy Mundanity" - Wherein I explain how to stop having boring descriptions by packing in characterization.

"How to Write Smut?" by @unfriendlywriter - Wonderful examples of how to write heartstopping smut.

"How to pull off descriptions" by @fictionstudent - Fictionstudent has a ton of great posts, both about film analysis and about the art of writing. I especially liked this one because it discusses how important perspective is for descriptions and the importance of filling in the details as a character would rather than just throwing it all at the reader at one time.

"How to avoid White Room Syndrome" by @writerthreads - Fantastic and focused advice on how to ensure you're offering readers just enough setting to help them envision the world.

Characterization

"Writing Relatable Characters; Or, Using Human Failures to Your Advantage" - Explaining how you can use character flaws and human needs to create a relatable character. Also explains the basic development of a plot, which is about equilibrium.

"How NOT to Write a Character" - Wherein I give you some examples of annoying characters we want to punt off a cliff so you can watch yourself.

"Writing Strong Female Characters" - Why you should give your female characters a secret goal, as well as how to avoid common 'strong female' stereotypes.

"Writing Compelling Trauma in Fiction: Dos and Don'ts" - How to avoid melodrama and create intriguing emotional wounds for characters.

"Quality Assurance Checks for Character Development" - Thought exercises that can help you differentiate characters, prune down unnecessary characters, develop true chemistry between LI and MC, and avoid having too many POVs.

"Developing Character Agency (Or; Cutting the Plot Strings)" - A discussion of character agency and how to ensure your characters are not bound by the narrative.

"Writing Notes: Thought Distortions" by @literaryvein-reblogs - Some psychological concepts you can use in your writing to add depth to characters.

"Questions about your character’s perspective on love and relationships" by @luna-azzurra - Excellent questions that can help you delve into your character's attachment style, what baggage they may bring to a current relationship, and how to create conflict through mentality.

"How to Write a Confession of Love," also by luna-azzurra - Perfect discussion of how to create tension, the utility of setting, not making it perfect, and including the other character's response.

Revisions

"Common Writing Issues that Reduce Readability" - Examples of fixes for four common issues: double describing, long sentences, overexplaining, and head hopping.

"How to Avoid Purple Prose" - A critical part of the revision process is making sure your writing is clear and balanced. In this post, I show a blatant example of purple prose and provide suggestions on how to make a more elegant passage.

"Differential Diagnosis When Your Writing Is Getting Worse" by @ariaste - Fantastic explanation by a professional writer about why you might feel like your writing is getting worse and what to do about it.

"How to Make Your Writing Less Stiff Part 3" by @physalian - Physalian's whole blog has some excellent advice, so definitely give it a look!

"How to Improve Your Writing" - Also by literaryvein-reblogs, this offers some excellent exercises to help with sentence-level issues, such as modifiers, parallelism, and details.

Publishing

"How to promote your book online : a discussion about social media (and few tips)" by writer-logbook - Great tips about how to get more interest in your book. I especially enjoyed the emphasis on patience and consistency. Writer-logbook has some excellent info overall about the nitty-gritty of writing, so I definitely recommend poring through their blog in general. (That's why they're included here twice!)

"A masterclass in how not to market your books, in one singular tweet" - Wherein I help you derive lessons from an abysmal tweet by an author.

"Mistakes I Made When Self-Pubbing My First Book (Part 1: Mindset Edition)" - I talk about how being delulu is not the solulu, that yes marketing is important (even if it is horrible), and how a bit of self-confidence can go a long way.

"Mistakes I Made When Self-Pubbing My First Book (Part 2: Presentation Edition)" - Graphics and covers and blurbs! Learn about them. Do not do what I did.

"Mistakes I Made When Self-Pubbing My First Book (Part 3: Ads and Reviews Edition)" - Why you have to get reviews. You gotta. And you gotta demand them. Shake those reviews out of your readers. You'll thank me later.

Specific Research Advice

"Assassination Methods Through the Decades: A Writer’s Handbook" by @hayatheauthor - A thorough review of different assassination methods, including a section discussing common assassination methods by region!

"How to Write Someone in a Wheelchair" - A group effort! This is a reblog chain discussing body language in manual wheelchairs, the mechanics of power wheelchairs, wheelchair propulsion methods, and a reminder that just because someone is in a wheelchair doesn't mean they can't walk short distances.

"Writing Research Notes: Caves" - Oh caves how I love them. Caves. Let me tell you about them if you want to write about caves. Blessed.

"Writing Research Notes: Horses" - A beginner's guide to horse mindsets, whether horses like working, approaching horses, how to ride, and tips on training.

"Writing Research Notes: Bipolar Disorder" - Written by me, a writer with bipolar disorder! This shares basic facts about bipolar, offers a list of symptoms you can use, and cautions you against spreading misinformation through poor characterization or myths.

"Writing Research Notes: Politics" - I provide a quick overview about governments and international relations, based off my suffering while getting an MA in International Relations.

"Stop Doing This in Injury Fics!" by @pygmi-says-hi - Discusses some common errors when writing whump/angst. The fever part was especially helpful for me!

"Writing US Military Characters" by @lookbluesoup - An explanation of the habits and mentality of US military characters. Many of these were quite helpful for my fantasy military characters, so you can get a lot of mileage out of these for soldiers in other militaries too!

Little Funsies

"What Painting Style Is Your Writing?" - A short exploration of different writing styles to help you better understand your own approach.

I'll be adding onto this as I continue to scroll through my old likes and, of course, as I find more resources.

#writing #writing resources #writing tips #writing advice #writing help #how to write #fiction writing

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pippin-katz · 9 months ago

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So, you know how Edwin screams for Charles as he’s being dragged back to Hell? Because he’s scared?

I was thinking about why, and it’s obvious. No big brain moment here. Someone you care about, who you know cares about you in return, brings even the smallest amount of comfort in situations where you are scared. They make you feel safe, so when you’re in danger you want them near you.

Edwin screams for him while being dragged away to Hell, and calls to him when he’s strapped into Esther’s device before the torture starts.

Yeah, we already know that, but I noticed something yesterday.

When you’re thinking about the show in general, Charles is the one who does the physical rescuing and protecting. Edwin’s best way of doing that is to make sure nothing goes awry so Charles won’t have to rescue someone. He prevents the danger from happening the best he can, while Charles charges at the danger if he has to. Edwin actually calling to Charles for help more makes sense given how their methods of helping each other differ.

But yesterday, I was working on something, and I like to listen to the show in the background sometimes (gotta boost those numbers for my boys ✌🏻). I can typically finish the whole show in a day cause it’s not long, so I started it at the beginning.

While listening to them tussling with the WWI ghost, obviously Charles yells, “Edwin! Hurry the fuck up!”

It’s an instruction and emphasis of the urgency and the need for speed in this situation. Telling someone to hurry up is used in all sorts of contexts, serious and unserious. You might say it with frustration if you were trying meet a deadline with a partner, or angrily while playing some video game that has timers, or with concern if you were waiting for important updates on the conditions of an injured friend.

Charles is a combination of them because the situation has been getting out of hand and he can’t do anything about it. He needs Edwin to cast the spell to break the curse.

But it’s while Edwin is saying the spell that Charles yells just his name. It had always created a feeling in my chest, but I couldn’t pinpoint it.

Listening to it with headphones (multiple times) and while not being distracted by the visuals allowed my brain to focus on just the voices, and how I felt while listening to them. I’ve listened it so many times over the last month, and I finally managed to fully figure it out!

The roughness in his voice from yelling so loud. The desperation that seeps into it. The way he enunciates his name, stress on and the pitch raising on the second syllable, similar to the way you'd ask a question, when the stress is usually on the first syllable, and the pitch usually goes down.

This is maybe the only time in the entire series where Charles sounds scared (excluding flashbacks). I don’t mean the “worried about someone” type of scared; we get to hear that a couple times, mostly when Edwin is taken back to Hell.

But no, here he is scared for himself.

He’s gotten thrown around. He’s gotten choked. He’s gotten knocked onto the ground on his back, being pinned down by a malevolent ghost of a soldier, who also has a knife and is very much trying to stab him right now.

Charles has done everything he can. Now, he just needs to not get hurt until Edwin breaks the curse. But that’s easier said than done when your opponent has basically every advantage. He’s struggling! He has been struggling! And now he's about to be stabbed!

He yells to Edwin because he’s scared, and he knows Edwin will do everything in his power to protect him in a dangerous situation, just as Charles would for him. It’s cry for help instead of an instruction.

But it's also a reassuring gesture for himself. Edwin is there. He trusts Edwin. Edwin is his safety. He has been since he met him in the attic, and became the first person in a very long time, maybe ever, to show so much care, and protectiveness toward him, after everyone in his life had hurt him or had watched him be hurt and did nothing. Edwin won’t let anything happen to him. Edwin is going to save him. And he believes it despite his fear, and Edwin does!

His means of doing so look very different from Charles��, but it’s through breaking the curse that he’ll save Charles rather than trying to fight the ghost off of him. That won’t work. Edwin can’t physically do that, and it wouldn’t stop the ghost from continuing to attack them. So despite him being several feet away casting a spell instead of running to Charles, he is protecting and saving him. And Charles knows that too.

It creates a weird fuzzy feeling in my chest to know that Edwin is the person Charles thinks of when he's scared. It's obvious that Edwin sees Charles as safety, so it feels rarer to see the opposite on display. They are each other's safety, and that is fucking special.

(ko-fi)

#dead boy detectives #thoughts: dead boy detectives #the case of crystal palace #charles rowland #jayden revri #edwin payne #george rexstrew #payneland

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starshideurfics · 1 year ago

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Can’t go home alone

steddie, aob, hurt/comfort, established secret relationship

I just can’t leave this concept alone 🥰

Pain pulses over and behind and around Steve’s eye along with the beat of his heart. It isn’t as bad as it was even an hour ago, and definitely not as bad as when he and Robin puked their guts out in the movie theater restroom.

But his head hurts. His chest hurts. And he just wants to curl up in his nest and hope his parents don’t come home in time to see him like this.

But the paramedic checking him says he’s definitely got a concussion. “Have you got someone who can keep an eye on you for the next 48 hours?”

“I… Yeah, I do.” Steve leans his head on Robin’s shoulder, needing the support as he’s hit with a sudden dizzy spell. He really doesn’t want to hurl again.

“Steve,” Robin whispers, “There’s no way my mom is letting me stay at your house for two days. Or letting you stay at mine. She would freak if I had an omega in my room.”

“I know,” Steve mumbles back. “‘Preciate the offer, Robbie, but I’ve got someone.”

“Steve. You can’t just shrug this off!”

“I’m not! I do have someone.” He pouts, breathes deep, her scent sour still from the truth serum leaving her system. His face is hidden in her short hair as he mumbles, “I’ll stay with Eddie.” Steve’s so tired.

He just wants to rest his eyes a minute, but Robin shakes his shoulder.

“Eddie? Steve what are you talking about?”

“I’ll stay at Eddie’s. He’ll take care of me.”

Robin is struggling to focus, her brain not as scrambled as Steve’s, but after a day and a half without enough to eat or drink coupled with everything else, she’s just as tired and confused. “Eddie who?”

Tires screech to a stop at the edge of the Starcourt parking lot, the closest cars can come now with the barriers up. Steve whips his head around to look towards the noise and his head spins. But then he sees a familiar, shitty van, the driver’s door opening and closing loud enough for Steve to hear the slam over the surrounding hubbub.

Pushing himself to his feet, Steve starts walking towards the streak of denim and dark curls racing towards him. He’s grinning like an idiot as Eddie stops just short of barreling into him, the rangy alpha delicately cupping his face. “Steve, baby, what the hell happened?” His fingers brush gently along Steve’s brow, over the cut on his lower lip. “I saw on the news—about the fire—called your place a dozen times and no one picked up. Been half-crazy worrin’ over you, and it looks like I was right to.”

“M’sorry,” Steve mumbles, pressing his cheek into Eddie’s touch.

“No, baby, not your fault. I’m just glad it isn’t worse.” He pulls Steve close, guides his face to the scent gland at his neck, and kisses his hair. “I’ve got you.”

Steve begins to purr, feeling safe for the first time in two days. “Can we go home?”

“Yeah, let’s get the hell out of here.”

“Wait! I gotta tell Robin!”

“What? Is Buckley here, too?”

Steve doesn’t answer, just pulls out of Eddie’s grip and stumbles back to the ambulance where Robin is still waiting, wrapped in an emergency blanket, her blue eyes glued to him as he approaches. “You’re dating Eddie Munson?” The, ‘and you didn’t say anything about that when we were spilling our guts literally and metaphorically on the bathroom floor’ is implied.

“Yeah. Eddie’s the best. He’s really sweet and he’s got a big—”

“Please don’t make me barf on you by finishing that sentence. I do not need to know what you and your alpha get up to behind closed doors.” Robin reaches for his hand. “Just… Call me in the morning, okay?”

“Okay.” Steve squeezes her fingers before loping back to Eddie and snuggling into his boyfriend’s chest.

Eddie rubs at Steve’s back. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah. I’m hungry.”

“Want me to make you a grilled cheese when we get back to my place?”

“Uh-huh.” Steve nods enthusiastically, only to bring on a wave of nausea, forcing him to shut his eyes and put all his weight on Eddie.

“Maybe I should just get you into bed.”

Steve moans wordlessly, lets himself be manhandled into the van, barely noticing anything beyond the bumps in the road that make his head ache more.

Once they reach Forest Hills, Eddie plops Steve on the couch, brings him water and a bag of frozen peas for his eye, and turns his attention to frying two sandwiches.

After Steve is fed, Eddie helps him into the shower, washing his hair in the tiny bathroom, and getting rid of the dried blood and days’ worth of sweat.

They dry off together, and Eddie bundles Steve into his bed, their naked bodies pressed close beneath the covers. “I’ve got you, baby,” Eddie whispers, dropping a kiss to Steve’s unbruised temple. “You rest. And if you need anything, let me know, I’ll get it for you.”

“I know,” Steve hums, snuggling impossibly closer. “Love you.”

“Love you too, baby. Now sleep.”

#steddie #omegaverse #fanfiction #alpha eddie munson #omega steve harrington #ficlet #stranger things fic

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portraitofalinkonfyre · 7 months ago

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Burning Love

Chapter 8

Main Masterlist | Fic Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

It was a beautiful morning.

You lay in bed, staring at the ceiling as Four snoozed beside you. One of his legs had managed to hook over yours during the night, pulling you impossibly closer, but you couldn't have cared less.

It was rare that things went your way in life, which was probably why the moment felt like a dream come true. Your thoughts kept circling back to the moment he admitted his love for you, and it took everything in you not to squeal like a child.

He loved you, and, well, you found that you loved him too. It had seemed impossible, considering the circumstances, but there was no way in hell you were going to complain now.

"Mmm..." a sleepy groan left Four's mouth, and his hand tightened around your shoulder, as if he was testing whether you were real or not. Earthy green eyes blinked open, and you couldn't deny the rush of heat shooting down your spine when his first instinct was to smile up at you. "Morning."

"Morning," you echoed, shifting slightly to test the wound on your side. When only the dullest of aches could be felt, you grinned. "I think I'm on the mend."

"Yeah?" He hummed. "I'm glad."

"So am I," you thought back to a certain one of his admissions last night. "Someone's gotta figure out what's going on with you."

You felt Four's grimace before you saw it. "...Right."

"Sooo," you dragged the word on as long as you could. "Are you going to tell me or do I have to guess first?"

There was silence; a long, embarrassed silence that did nothing but intrigue you further.

"...How much do you know about the Minish race?" He asked, still half-hiding in your neck.

You blinked, unable to comprehend why he kept bringing it up; you weren't going to judge him. "I– well, they're mice-like creatures that only good children can see, right?"

"Er, not mice, but the rest is true," he sighed and you resisted the urge to pat yourself on the back. "They're... known for having strange reactions to emotions, specifically...."

"Love?" you finished, brain swirling with vague ideas of where this was going.

"That's one of them," Hylia, he sounded so nervous that your heart couldn't help but ache. "When a Minish loves, it's... it's not something that can be defined so easily. They're driven to do anything for their love, even if it means hurting themselves or others."

"You're not going to hurt me," you whispered, only to be met by a huff.

"That's what I said."

"Oh," you had no idea how to respond to that, so you pressed forward. "Is that what happened... you know?"

"Yes," Four answered, and, for a moment, you could have sworn his hands tightened like claws against your arm. "It's called a... rut."

You froze, a tidal wave of deja-vu washing over you at the use of the term. "That's– like a wolf?"

Four cringed against your neck, and you immediately regretted your previous choice of words. "Well, yes, but that's a... crude description of it," just as you blurted: "Oh my Hylia, I am so sorry."

A spark of electricity skittered down your spine at the gentle press of his lips against the base of your neck. "It's fine, I know you're new to this."

"Yeah..." you trailed off, still feeling bad about the accidentally racist comment. "But that doesn't excuse it."

"Don't worry about it," he murmured. "It sounds embarrassing, but it's still a part of my past."

You nodded, albeit sheepishly, and gathered your remaining strength to finish the blasted conversation: "What does that mean, then?"

"Pardon?"

"You said it was... like a wolf," Hylia, why did it sound so wrong to say? "Does that mean...?"

There was silence as a shudder seemed to pass through Four's body.

"Four."

"...Yes."

You fell silent as the pieces began to form; the fever had only been a precursor to the change, and nearly a week had passed since symptoms first began to show, which meant he had been battling this alone for nearly that long.

"I'm so sorry," you breathed. The hand on your shoulder pulled back, and Four sat up in all his mussed-hair glory, expression slightly panicked, a noticeable waver in his tone when he spoke next.

"Don't apologize, I was the one who lied."

You shook your head, sitting up despite the leftover soreness. "I could have helped."

It was as if time had stopped. Four stared at you with more concentration than a starving man at a feast, and you felt a shiver of heat pool in your abdomen... until his expression shifted to one of hard resolve. "You know I can't–"

"Why not?" You countered swiftly before laying a hand on his shoulder. "You're not alone, Four, so tell me what I need to do."

But Four maintained his shell-shocked gaze, seeming to become more panicked at your admission. "You're injured–"

"Then get a healing potion," you challenged. "And don't you dare make excuses; we're fixing this. Now."

Four didn't know whether to kiss you or run away. Every bone in his body was screaming at him to take you then and there, while the cacophony of voices in his brain yelled that he was mad if he was truly considering doing something so reckless to you while you were recovering from a wound he failed to protect you from.

He made his decision when you leaned forward to plant a kiss on his lips, quickly cupping your face to pull you in for another. Your hands found his shoulders, kneading lightly at the strong flesh in a way that made him want to pin you down and show you just how much he loved you.

But that was dangerous. A rut was not to be trifled with, and he would sooner die than push you into anything you weren't comfortable with.

"Four," your voice, now deliciously breathy, called as you shifted closer, nearly chest to chest with him. His hands ached to feel your skin beneath them, stroking and teasing and making you scream–

You arched into him as the kiss deepened, followed by a lightly-pained whimper that had alarm bells dinging inside his head.

"Wait," Four mumbled against your lips and you paused, eyes widening slightly. "If we're– you need a potion."

"Okay," you responded with a smile, watching as he stumbled off the bed to the door. Four pushed the heavy wood open, scanning the hallway for any signs of the others, only relaxing when there was none to be found. He was about to dart over to Hyrule's room when his foot nudged something on the floor.

It was a health potion, conveniently placed next to the frame. Too convenient, Four realized when he picked it up, noticing the note tied to the neck of the glass, which read a scrawled rendition of what he could only guess were the words 'have fun'.

"Four? What's that?" You called from behind him, and Four quickly tore the note off, allowing it to fall to the ground as he retreated into the refuge that was your room. Your eyebrows flew up as soon as you registered what he was holding. "...Is that a potion?"

"It was outside," Four didn't bother hiding how he had come across the item, uncorking it and handing it to you. You downed the liquid like a champ, grimacing cutely at the taste. He took the empty bottle and set it on the nightstand before climbing back onto bed.

As soon as his knees touched the fabric, your hands were on him again, movements far steadier than they'd been before. Four leaned into your touch as you pressed a tender kiss to his forehead, then both cheeks, and finished off on the tip of his nose. You drew back, eyes studying his face with a calculated gleam that he couldn't wait to ruin. "How do we do this?"

"Like before," Four murmured, and your lips were on his again, an arm wrapping around his back while the other tangled in his unconfined hair. The air around the two of you felt as if it had ignited, setting his body ablaze as he kissed you.

Four could have stayed like this forever, until your gentle hands coaxed him into your lap, and he became painfully aware of the true scope of the predicament. Your abdomen pressed firmly against his arousal, and he could only whimper as more heat pooled in his pelvis.

You swallowed the noises with ease, fingers digging gently into the flesh of his thighs as you arched experimentally against him. A thick moan spilled into the kiss, and your grip tightened minutely as you broke apart, panting softly.

"Is that good?" you asked softly, and he nodded, feeling slightly sheepish, though it didn't last long when his hands flew to your shoulders, hips lightly rolling against your stomach. Four leaned forward to kiss the front of your neck, lips brushing your bobbing throat with as much tenderness as he could muster. You sighed breathily and pulled his hips closer.

"I'm not made of glass," you murmured, nipping the outer lobe of his long ear, and Four couldn't have been more in love. "So don't treat me like I am."

"I know," one of his hands skimmed your side through your tunic, passing directly over the wound. You shivered some, and he made his decision. "But I'm not going to hurt you."

"I know," you echoed, and there was something so tender about the way you looked at him; like he was something to be treasured... like he was your treasure. Four felt his throat go dry at the realization, and he became painfully aware of how right Twilight had been. He was going to have to do something real nice for the rancher when this was over. "Now c'mere."

Your fingers dipped under the hem of his tunic with a hushed: "is this okay?" Four nodded helplessly, and you lifted the fabric off of him in one fluid motion, though he felt slightly self-conscious as your eyes roved over his form. His figure had always been a bit of a sore subject, whether it be height or... other attributes, but he couldn't help but feel, well, he felt rather loved at the appreciative sheen in your eyes. "Has anyone ever told you how handsome you are?" was the first thing you murmured, and Four tried not to choke at the onslaught of emotion rushing through him.

"Once," he answered, feeling slightly bashful under your reservation-less gaze.

"Shame," Hylia, you were biting your lip. "What do you say we fix that?"

"How... do you propose we go about that?" He asked, knowing full-well what you meant. You grinned, pecking the tip of his nose.

"I have a few ideas."

The hand not glued to his thigh traveled slowly up his side with an almost featherlight touch, ghosting over the toned curve of his chest, and he let out a shaky exhale, shivering as a familiar tightness formed in his lower belly. You grasped him by the roots of his hair, and he could barely just stop the noise that threatened to spill from his lips when your other hand splayed directly over his abdomen, gingerly feeling the tight muscles. "Can I touch you here?"

"Y-Yeah," Four gulped thickly, nearly cutting himself off with a low moan of your name when you lightly cupped the bulge in his pants. Your answering chuckle rang in his ears, tongue darting out to flick the tip of his left ear.

Four swore under his breath as heat shot through his bones, licking hotly in every nook and cranny of his body. Your hand delivered a gentle squeeze to his clothed arousal, and, for a moment, he believed that you could very well have been a goddess sent from above to reward him for his sacrifices, to soothe the aches of all the blood, sweat, and tears he spent protecting his home. "Please," he pleaded, and you took mercy, slipping your hand beneath his waistband to free his throbbing cock, only to wrap your hand around the swollen length.

Four keened at the feeling of your soft, warm hand enveloping him like it was the most natural thing in the world. His hands shot to wrap around your back, burying his face in your clothed chest while you laughed softly. "Feels good?"

As if you even had to ask, Four thought as you began to pump your hand experimentally. The hand in his hair kept his face firmly nuzzled between the sloping flesh of your breasts, and he wanted nothing more than to taste your bare, salty skin under his tongue. Preferably with your beneath him, calling his true name in a delicious haze of pleasure while he pounded deep into you. His teeth ached to bury themselves in the meat of your shoulder, marking you as his for as long as this lifetime would allow, but he forced himself to focus on the positively sinful motion of your equally sinful hand, muffling his noises in the solid warmth of your sternum. "Please, (Y/n)–"

"It's okay, I've got you," you coaxed lovingly, pulling his head up to connect your lips once more. He was panting by the time you broke apart, a familiar coil tightening in his belly. "That's it," you cooed, and his orgasm hit him like one of Wild's bombs, thick ropes of cum spurting out to coat your hand and his stomach. Four buried his face in the junction between your neck and shoulder, wailing against your skin as you stroked him through his high. He felt boneless as the pleasure slowly faded, practically collapsing against your sweet body.

"Hylia..." he breathed, and you laughed airily.

"That good, huh?"

He didn't like how you said that; not because it was offensive or mean, but the clearness of your tone reminded his fading mind that you hadn't received anything in return for your efforts. Four frowned–there was no way in Hyrule he was letting that stand. "We're not done yet."

You blinked owlishly. "We're not?"

"No," Four intoned as he applied pressure to your shoulders, pushing you flat against the bed. You went willingly, staring up at him as he sat– no, perched, on your hips, holding your lower half down with his own. He leaned down, arms coming down to cage your upper half. "Now it's my turn."

You gulped thickly, a sure sign that you knew exactly where this was going, and he felt a rush of pride. Good. He wanted you to want him as he wanted you, to crave him as he craved you, to understand exactly what you had done to him... and to understand exactly how he was going to repay you.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" He asked, leaning down to press open-mouthed kisses down the slender column of your throat. "I can't think straight around you."

"That's funny," you responded breathlessly, giggling softly when his nose brushed the sensitive flesh. "I could say the same about you."

Four laughed against the base of your neck, delivering a soft nip to your clavicle. You jolted, cheeks flushing pink as you yelped, but you said nothing to refute the action. "Has anyone told you how amazing you are?" He asked, and you grinned.

"Once."

You laughed softly at the tail end of the word, and Four wanted to make you laugh for as long as you would let him.

His hands found the hem of your shirt, pulling it up far enough to reveal the bandaged expanse of your stomach. A twinge of guilt shot through him, but you seemed to anticipate his reaction quicker than he did. "It doesn't hurt," your hand cupped his cheek. "You gave me a potion, remember?"

He did, but it still felt wrong to–

"Four, I can hear you thinking from here," your voice tore him back to reality. "I'm fine, promise."

Four blinked, stared at the bandages once more, and took a deep breath. He trusted you enough to speak up for yourself, which was exactly what you were doing now, so how could he deny you? "You're right," his hands fiddled with the hem of your shirt, nestled just below your breasts. "Can I?"

You brought him in for a kiss, and it told him all he needed to know. Four brought the tunic up over your head, tossing it on the dresser with a grunt, leaving you in only your bindings and some leggings. He wanted those gone, and soon.

He began by dipping his head down, planting a steady kiss to your sternum, feeling the hard bone and smooth skin beneath his lips. His hands traveled up your sides until they reached your covered breasts, squeezing the mounds of flesh experimentally. You hissed and he swiped his thumbs curiously against your peaked nipples, and his tongue felt heavy at the thought of what else he could make your body do.

"F-Four," your hand tangled in his hair, clenching and unclenching in a way that sent shivers down his spine. "That... That's good."

"I know," he murmured, tongue tracing the small peak of your nipple over the bandages, and your chest shook as you giggled. "Tell me what you want."

"I want you," you responded, head falling back against the pillows with a soft sigh when his tongue swiped at your breast again, and it was everything he had ever wanted to hear.

Four hummed into the flesh of your breast, fingers tugging at the edges of your bindings. They needed to go. Now. He was just about to apply pressure when you gasped, batting his hands away. "Don't you dare! Do you know how long it took me to tie this?"

A whine that surprised even him slipped past Four's lips, but he dutifully sat back on your hips, hands still poised on your ribcage. "I can–" he began, only to have his hands batted away again.

"Nu uh, butts are for sitting," you sat up, hands reaching back to undo the bandages, and he was suddenly in your lap again, leaking cock bobbing insistently between your bare abdomens. "Don't even try to pretend you weren't going to tear them."

"I wasn't..." he said, like a liar, sitting obediently as you pulled the bindings from your chest, revealing your glorious breasts to his eager gaze.

"Oh, shut up," you cut in, though there was no real heat behind your words, not that he particularly cared when you leaned forward, inadvertently pressing his face directly into your tits. Four's hands immediately shot up to cup the sensitive flesh, relishing in the way your breathing deepened. His mouth watered as images of your breasts, dripping with spit and reddened from the attention he was about to lavish them with. "Ah-- Four."

"Yes?" He asked through a face-full of boob.

"You can... um, use your mouth," you trailed off, averting your eyes with a deepening flush.

Well, since you asked so nicely...

Four dove in with gusto, capturing a hardened nipple in his mouth while his fingers worked slowly against the other nub. You threw your head back with a soft whimper, hands gripping his shoulders tightly, and he took the opportunity to push you back down on the mattress, chest-to-stomach as he suckled on your trembling breast.

"Mmph!" You slung an arm over your eyes, and Four felt himself frown, capturing your wrist and yanking your arm above your head, holding it there. You yelped, but he merely sucked harder, scraping his teeth gently over your pebbled nipple, and a shocked moan left your parted lips. Good; he would be damned if he missed any one of your noises.

"Please," you groaned, the sound traveling straight to his cock. Your nipple slipped from his mouth with a lewd pop, and Four scooted up your body to press your lips together for the nth time. He could only imagine the noises you would make when he was buried deep inside you, and he was hellbent on discovering them.

"What is it?" He asked when you separated, gaze never faltering from your half-lidded one. Your flush darkened, eyes averting sheepishly, and he knew he had struck gold. "You can tell me," he coaxed, toying lightly with your nipple.

You bit your lip, and it was the hottest thing he had ever seen. "I... I want–"

"Use your words," Four encouraged, partly because he wanted to know what you wanted and partly because he liked seeing you squirm beneath him. He kissed the corner of your mouth, but you turned your head to close the gap once more. When you pulled away, he was pleased to see the look of resolve dawning in your eyes.

"I want you to touch me," you said, and he was more than happy to oblige, sitting up slightly to slide one of his hands over the seam of your leggings, drawing a pleased rumble from the depths of your chest. You sat up on your elbows, face flushed darker than he'd ever seen it. "Can you... my pants?"

Right. Pants. Four looked down and realized you weren't the only overdressed one here. Wobbling slightly, he slid to the side, shucking off his pants and undergarments before shifting back to start with yours.

"May I?"

Your nod was firm, and he quickly dragged the offending garments down your thighs and off of your legs, revealing your glistening sex to his awestruck gaze. Four tossed the material in the same general direction as his own clothes before focusing every ounce of his attention on you.

You were gorgeous; down to the gentle slopes of your calves, the quivering flesh of your thighs, the toned muscles of your stomach, and the heaving curves of your breasts, all just begging to be marked by him. Four could hardly contain himself as he scrambled back over you, the head of his cock poking insistently against your abdomen due to the height difference.

Your arms came up to wrap around his neck, pulling him down for a sweet kiss as your chests pressed together, heartbeat to heartbeat. He could have stayed like that for an eternity, cuddled against you like he belonged there.

"So," your voice broke him from his stupor, a mischievous glint in your perfect eyes. "What now?"

"Now," he reached down to slide his fingers against the soaked lips of your cunt, the pad of his thumb catching deliciously against your swollen clit. He could feel the warm, sticky heat of your arousal and it was driving him wild. You shuddered, and he ducked his head down to deliver a playful lick to your quivering stomach. "We find out what you like."

"O-Only if you let me do the same to you," you shot back in a noticeably shaky voice, tossing your head back to moan lowly when his teeth nipped your right breast hard enough to leave a small mark.

"Tell me what you want," Four echoed his past self, watching your every expression as his fingers delved into the searing depths of your cunt.

"Touch me?" you pleaded, and he did just that, capturing a bouncing teat in his mouth and sucking with enough force to have you mewling. His cock was rock-hard, glistening pearls of pre leaking down the weeping tip, but he forced himself to fight the raging instincts swirling inside him. There would be time for him later, when you had gotten more than enough of your share for everything you had done for him.

Four slid his fingers free of your velvety walls, bringing them to his mouth. He slowly licked the appendages clean, savoring the flavor of you as he maintained eye contact, relishing in the way your eyes went completely wide as you watched the spectacle. You tasted warm and sticky, like water on a dehydrated man's tongue, and Hylia knew Four was completely and utterly dehydrated for you. It was only when your eyes darkened and you whispered "do that again," in a vaguely commanding tone did he chuckle, licking a stripe up his pointer finger before they dipped back down to reacquaint with your dripping sex.

Four's heart fluttered when your cunt tightened around him, curling his fingers experimentally against your gummy walls. He had never done this before, but the other blacksmiths he worked with had been rather transparent with their encounters--a fact he was coming to appreciate more and more as the minutes ticked by. "Good?"

"You have no idea," you sighed. Four grinned, pressing deeper within you. He crooked his fingers again, brushing a vaguely spongy spot within you, and you jerked like you'd been electrocuted, clapping a hand over your mouth to muffle what he was sure would have been a moan loud enough to wake half the inn. He repeated the motion, chuckling when your body shook again, cunt slicker than ever.

"How do you feel?" He asked in a half-joking tone, rubbing tender circles on your puffy clit.

"G-Good," you ground out, hands fisting the sheets. Pride blossomed in his chest at the desperate lit in your voice. "Four, I'm going to–... ah, if you keep this up–"

"You're so pretty," he leaned forward to whisper in your ear, taking the rounded lobe between his teeth, and the moan you let out was positively sinful.

"S-Stop talking," you panted, and he could have laughed if the look on your face wasn't so memorable. He crooked his fingers again, drinking in the keen that left you. You were close, he knew, and he was determined to give you as much as you had given him.

"I'm not lying," Four murmured, releasing your ear in favor of dipping down to suckle tender hickeys at your collarbone. "And I don't plan on stopping anytime soon."

"Shit," you swore, and the curse had never sounded better from your lips. He could feel his dick throbbing harder and harder, positively aching to bury itself within your warm, tight walls, but he steeled himself. "D-Don't stop, please."

Four chuckled, curling his fingers rather harshly against the spot from before while his thumb practically tenderized your poor clit. "I wouldn't dream of it."

Your cunt clenched down on him in rolling waves as you cried out, hips nearly arching off the bed if he hadn't pushed them down, forcing you to accept every ounce of pleasure he had to give. You thrashed in his hold, thighs shaking and head falling back against the pillows as your climax raged through every nerve in your body, so brightly blinding that you could hardly focus on anything but the feeling of his nimble fingers working you through your high. Only when your moans began to pitch into the realm of overstimulation did he stop, pulling away from your cunt with a lewd shlipp sound.

Four brought his fingers to his mouth again, licking them clean with a smug expression. You tasted almost as good as you felt, and he was sorely tempted to get a taste from the source, but the impatient throbbing of his leaking cock forced him to reconsider. Leaning forward, he cupped your sweat-streaked cheeks as you panted for breath. "Can you go again?"

Your eyes cracked open, peering at him through your lash line, and Four couldn't help but swoon at your disheveled gaze. "...Wha?"

"Do you want to keep going?" He rephrased, hoping to Hylia you said agreed.

Your eyelids slid shut, and he was about to call the whole thing off until your voice broke through the fog. "Y-Yeah, just... I need a moment."

"Take your time," Four murmured gently, settling flush against your body with his head resting snugly against your sternum, relishing in the small giggle that left you. One of your hands began caressing his hair, a rumble of satisfaction rattling within him.

"How are you feeling?" You asked after a comfortable silence had passed, and he could have kissed you right then and there.

"Great," he replied. "You?"

"More than that," thank Hylia, he thought. "...Have I told you I loved you yet?"

Four shot up in a flash, staring down at your face, wearing an expression that was too genuine to fake. A wave of heat shot through him, and he was almost positive the grin splitting his face was borderline embarrassing.

"I love you," you continued, and Four nearly choked at the onslaught of emotions rushing through him.

"I–" his mind felt fuzzy, like it was filled with love-soaked cotton. Every nerve in his body was screaming for him to kiss you, so he did. You returned it with a passion he thought only existed in children's stories, only breaking apart when your lungs burned from lack of air. "I love you too."

You cupped his cheek, kiss-swollen lips upturned in a blinding smile, and Four was sure he had ascended to the heavens, because there was no way the goddesses were this kind. "How do you want to do this?" you whispered, pressing featherlight kisses to his jawline.

Four's mind stuttered, but his mouth was already moving. "H-However you want."

"Then lay on your back," you purred, and it was quite possibly the sexiest thing he'd heard in his life. Four did as he was told, rolling off of you and landing on the unoccupied side of the mattress with a soft thump, sticky beads of pre dripping down his length.

Without missing a beat, you clamored atop him, straddling his hips as your hands planted themselves on his bare chest. Four's hands rested on your trim sides, just above the generous swell of your hips, groaning as your burning center pinned his cock against his body.

You bent down, hands still on his chest, and pressed your lips to his. Four moaned into the kiss when your core rubbed deliciously against his dick, sending shockwaves of pleasure down to pool in his pelvis. He was so hard it nearly hurt. "Are you ready?" you asked as soon as you separated, and he could only nod helplessly, watching with wide, awestruck eyes as you guided the head of his arousal to the drooling lips of your pussy, giving him one last grin before you sank down.

The two of you groaned in tandem as you took him inch by glorious inch, until your hips connected with a lewd smack. "Link," you whimpered, and he was convinced he had died and gone to heaven. "Y-You feel so good."

It took everything in him not to roll you over and show you just how good he could make you feel, so Four gave a pleasured groan and reached up to fondle your breasts. You wiggled and panted, sending searing bolts of heat straight to his dick.

"A-Are you alright?" The smithy whispered, fearing you had hurt yourself.

"I-I'm fine," you responded breathlessly, wiggling a few more times. Four watched in awe as you raised your hips, using your hands on his chest to stabilize yourself, and slammed back down with enough force to knock the wind from him. He squirmed beneath you as you repeated the motion, drawing moans from both your throats. The cycle continued as you kept pace, rising and falling with more conviction than the sun itself, with Four gripping the meat of your thighs, mouth spewing frantic encouragement as you practically pounded him to the bed.

The air was filled with heavy slapping noises, broken, off-kilter moans, and heavy panting, but Four couldn't have cared less as he coaxed you to continue riding him. Only when you moaned, long and loud as his cock grazed your sweet spot, and your scent practically doubled, did Four act.

You yelped when abruptly he sat up, grabbing your wrists with one hand and using the other to flip you, somehow managing to keep his cock buried deep inside you as he forced you, face down and ass up, on the mattress. "H-Hey--" only to be cut off when he pulled out and slammed back in, knocking the words from your mouth.

You screamed a broken rendition of Four's true name as he rutted you like an animal, balls slapping against your oversensitive clit with such ferocity that you nearly came right then and there. "You have no fucking idea, do you?" Four's voice snarled in your ear, but there was something dark embedded in his tone that had you crying out.

A shrill wail left you when his muscled front pressed firmly against your back, his hand ducking beneath your hips to rub deft circles on your overstimulated clit, while the other wriggled under your body to deliver a hearty squeeze to your right breast. The coil in your belly tightened unimaginably... until it broke and you gushed all over him like a tidal wave.

Four growled, slamming his hips to yours with a drawn-out groan. His dick throbbed, and ropes of hot seed spurted into your clenching core, all but coating your walls with his essence. He rocked into you for a few seconds, exhausted out of his mind, and caught your hips when they began to sway.

A short whimper left you when he slowly pulled out of you, a large dollop of cum blurting from your abused cunt, gathering your spent body into his arms. Four brought you to the head of the bed, tucking you under the once rumpled blankets as black spots danced in the corners of his vision, settling beside you with a contented sigh. You made a noise and immediately wrapped your arms around him, cuddling him to your chest like a teddy bear.

For a long while, neither of you said anything, basking in the comfortable silence.

"...I can't believe you didn't tell me," your tired voice filtered through the room.

"I can't believe you didn't run away screaming," he shot back, voice reverberating against your sternum, and the soft smack you delivered to the back of his head was so worth it.

"Idiot," maybe so, but he was your idiot. "I was in a war, remember? You can't scare me."

"That's what you think," said Four, adjusting his head slightly to better hear the steady beat of your heart. He had already been laid bare beneath you, both physically and emotionally, so what was the harm in another one of his secrets coming to life?

"...Four."

"Yes?"

"Please tell me you're not four remlits in a Hylian body."

Four blinked, temporarily detaching from your skin to process the absurdity of that particular statement. "...Excuse me?"

You coughed and held him tighter. "I had to make sure, it's really hard to tell when Time's making stuff up or not–"

"Time said that?!"

"It's not a big deal," you deflected, sounding far too nonchalant for someone who had been pounded less than five minutes ago. "So, are you going to tell me or do I have to answer three of four riddles correctly?"

"I can't believe you just said that," he interrupted with a deadpan, and your wide grin only made it marginally better.

"Thanks, neither can I."

"...I'm going to bed," said Four, settling back against your chest, quietly pondering how in Hyrule he had managed to survive thus far without you. Sweet, wonderful, devilish you, who had captivated him since day one. "Sleep well, my love."

"Only if you do too, honey bunch," you teased back, giggle-yelping when he pinched a nipple in retribution. "Listen here, you little s–"

"Can't hear you when I'm asleep," Four responded in a sing-song tone, snuggling closer with a relaxed sigh.

THE SMUT IS HERE!!! You'll all be pleased to know that this isn't the end of this saga, so stay tuned for more!

#linked universe #linked universe x reader #the chain x reader #link x reader smut #lu x reader #lu four x reader #loz smut #mating cycles/in heat

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mysteryshoptls · 3 months ago

Text

SSR Cater Diamond - Room Relaxation Vignette

"Happy Birthday"

[Courtyard]

Cater: Whew～ Today's Alchemy class was a real brain wiggler. What class do I got next… Hm?

Cater: Hey… Is that you Leona-kun? Woah, that's a surprise, are you just getting out of class too?

Leona: Shut your trap already… It's got nothing to do with you, Cater.

Cater: No, no, I just wanted to give you the drop on a bit of info. Do you know what tomorrow is?

Cater: You see, it's YA BOI CAY-KUN'S BIRTHDAY ♪

Leona: Oh. Good for you.

Cater: NO REACTION!? I mean, I guess I knew that was coming～

Cater: Shoulda known it wouldn't be easy to get a warm birthday greeting from ol' Leona-kun.

Leona: What nonsense are you spouting? I just did.

Cater: What, you mean when you said "good for you"? C'mon, you just threw that out there 'cause you had to～

Cater: If you're gonna say something, you gotta put more heart into it, not just toss me a few words here and there ♪

Leona: Your birthday's tomorrow, ain't it? I couldn't possibly be rude and wish you a happy birthday the day before all your fellow housemates have a chance to…

Leona: So, bye.

[Leona leaves]

Cater: There he goes again, spouting off whatever… Well, guess I should just consider myself lucky that we got to hold a convo and he didn't just ignore me.

Cater: Alrighty, then. Looks like my next class is Animal Linguistics. I got a feeling I'm gonna get called on today, so I should prep for it.

[Heartslabyul Dorm – Hallway]

Cater: Woah, it's that delicious!? I wanna go right away… Oh, but I don't think I'll be able to until after next month.

Cater: Yeaaah, I did terrible on the last Magical History exam～ …Saaame, I wish those tests weren't basically one bit puzzle.

Cater: And also… Oh, we're already back to our rooms. Okay, night～

[Heartslabyul Dorm – Cater's Room]

Cater: …Whew, finally I'm back.

Cater: I wasn't able to check Magicam while I was in the shower, so I should do that now.

Cater: Oh, looks like some of my old posts are getting likes too. I'm glad people are still seeing what I posted ages ago.

Cater: There's a few comments, too… Ugh, this question is waaay too long.

Cater: Not to mention, half of what they're saying has nothing to do with their question, they're just gabbing on about themselves. Ugggh… It's gonna be a pain to respond…

Cater: But if I leave it for later, I'll want to reply even less～ Guess I should give 'em a response ASAP then.

[Heartslabyul Dorm – Cater's Room]

Cater: "Except, that eye mask was a limited-time item, so if it's already sold out, sorry." …And, send. Was that all of them?

Cater: Whew～ I finally finished responding to everything. Guess now I can go check out everyone else's posts.

[phone pings]

Cater: Huh, who's post is this on trending right… Hey, it's that one guy! I can't believe they got a cat.

Cater: "Your cat looks so soft and suuuuper cute～! Can't wait for more pictures!"

[phone pings]

Cater: Ooh, I like the picture of this guitar. I wanna try customizing like this, too.

Cater: "I can't believe you did all this yourself! I'd love to see the play-by-play of how you made it next time."

[phone pings]

Cater: What else is there…? Oh, hey, I've heard of this Magicammer before. Looks like their video giving a tour of their room is hot right now.

Cater: Woah, that's hella cute! Both the floor and wallpaper are done up so meticulously. The entire room's been designed to mesh well with everything～!

Cater: The little trinkets they have scattered around their room are also all the rage right now, so they might be a good reference to keep in mind. I'll give them a follow.

Cater: Maaan, I wish I had a cute, pastel room like this. I bet they get tons of likes.

Cater: Oh, yeah. I kinda left it 'cause I didn't really have anything to say, but… Guess I could write a suggestion here.

「Survey on Quality of Life Improvements for the Student Body」

Cater: It's been more or less smooth-sailing ever since I got a single room, so I didn't think I'd really have any complaints…

Cater: But this place is a bit too chic for the kinds of photos I want to post on Magicam. Maybe it's more accurate to say it's cute in an old-fashioned way?

Cater: The colors in the room are more on the darker side, which makes the videos come out too dark…

Cater: And it's a pain always having to lug out my photography equipment each time. I'll just write "I want more attractive walls and floors."

Cater: Honestly, I'd love to be able to do a room tour or a day-in-the-life routine video...

Cater: But I bet there'd be a ton of trouble I could get into when it comes to everyone's privacy if I'm shooting in and around the dorm, so that'd probably be impossible while I'm still attending school.

Cater: Mmkay, then… I'm already ready for bed, so I guess I'll just go to sleep early, ready to tackle the day tomorrow.

[fwumps into bed]

Cater: What time should I set my alarm for…? Oh, there's already a reply on my comment from earlier.

Cater: I should probably respond right away since they were also quick with it, huh… Hmm…

[Heartslabyul Dorm – Cater's Room]

[alarm rings]

Cater: Mmm… Mrrrnngh… Is it morning already…?

Cater: Yawn… What time did I even fall asleep last night?

Cater: I think I was replying to a comment I got wishing me a happy birthday right at midnight… Did I fall asleep in the middle of that?

Cater: Looks like a got a lot more comments after that, too. I need to respond… But before that, there's something else I need to do today.

Cater: Can't just laze about here! I need to go to the washroom and wash my face ASAP!

Cater: My face is washed, and I did my skin care routine… So, let's get started!

Cater: The photography lights are turned on, the reflector board is adjusted, and my phone is on the tripod…

Cater: The plushes in the background are… Good, they're settled nicely on the bed.

Cater: There's nothing in the shot that shouldn't be. Perf, time to start the video!

[phone pings]

Cater: Hey-o everyone, it's Cay-kun! Today, I'm going to show off some base makeup items that's been my go-to these days.

Cater: First up… Here's the UV primer that just came out on the first of this month! I know this has been all the rage lately.

Cater: I've been using this every day since I bought it the day it came out ♪

Cater: And you know what's the best thing about this primer…? It's got no reflective shine at all!

Cater: It's got a nice toning effect, and I think it works well with just a little bit of powder on days when you don't really need to spruce yourself up too much.

Cater: I've fallen in love with it, 'cause whenever I wanna take a pic on the fly, all I have to do is dab a little here and there with a tissue and it looks like I did myself up in proper makeup ♪

Cater: Aaand it rolls on so smoothly, too. I'll apply some now to show you what I mean, so keep your eyes on the screen!

[phone pings]

Cater: …Nice, video done.

Cater: I'll snap a few pictures in the afternoon during break and put together a comparison picture, then edit the video… I guess I'll be able to upload it the day after tomorrow.

Cater: I still have to think about some other stuff like the background music, but I should focus on finishing my makeup for now.

Cater: It's my birthday, so I think I'm leaning towards using some of my more cuter cosmetics… Oh, I know.

Cater: I found it! Here's the glitter eyeliner that I got as a part of that limited-edition holiday cosmetic set!

Cater: Both the package it came in and the glitter itself is waaaaay too cute. I'll draw the line with this, and snap a pic to see…

[snap!]

Cater: Nice, I can see the glitter glimmering around my eye. This'll give my birthday photos a little bit of a different feel from usual.

Cater: As for my hair… Eh, I guess it's going a little too far if I did something with that too. I'll just massage in a little bit of wax and just set it like usual…

Cater: Perf, looks good. Hmmm… I still have a bit of time, so I guess I'll reply to all the birthday comments I got earlier.

Cater: I still need to record a birthday video, and I bet there'll be a party, or at least a get-together with the Pop Music Club...

Cater: Eheheh, I can't wait. I think I'll have enough content to upload to Magicam for a while!

[Main Street]

[Cater chats with everyone]

Cater: Yaay, thanks everyone! …Hm?

Cater: Who's that I spy walking over there…? Oh, hey, it's Leona-kun!

Leona: Cater…! Tch, what'd I do to be this unlucky?

Cater: Ehhh, you really gonna act like that in front of the birthday boooy?

Cater: So, anywaaaay… Remember how you said yesterday that you couldn't possibly be rude and wish me well the day before my birthday?

Cater: Which meeeeeans… Since we've met the day oooooof…

Leona: Yeah, yeah, you don't gotta tell me twice. …......Happy birthday.

Cater: Ahahah, I really got you of all people to wish me a happy birthday! This is gonna be a great year!

Requested by @farfalla049.

#twisted wonderland #twst #cater diamond #leona kingscholar #twst cater #twst leona #twst translation #twst birthday

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snowflake194 · 3 months ago

Text

As the Sky Split Open (~1300 words) x

“What are these?”

It’s been raining all week, the sky stretched grey and endless, and Eddie knows it’s just a matter of time before it starts to again. But right now—right now it’s not.

It’s not raining when Eddie takes the baggie of baked something from Buck and turns it over in his hands and so if the universe is giving him this small moment of peace before the storm, he’s going to take it.

“Chocolate chip peanut butter Snickerdoodles,” Buck tells him proudly before turning a little sheepish when Eddie gives him a look and then adds: “Jee came up with the recipe a few weeks ago. It’s actually not that bad. Surprisingly.”

And that’s just—well. It can’t be bad, can it?

“Thank you.”

“Yeah, of course,” Buck shrugs effortlessly and shoves his hands deeper into his pockets. “Try not to devour them on the way, though. Save some for Chris. And—and text. When you get there.”

Eddie inhales sharply through his nose, frozen in it for a moment too long, so he might as well take it to make sure his early breakfast doesn’t spill out onto the asphalt when he eventually parts his lips and lets out a choked, “Yeah. I will. Thank you.”

“You said that already,” Buck’s brow furrows slightly and Eddie suddenly has the very real and very terrifying urge to let it anyway.

Because it’s impossible to look at him. At the bright blue of his best friend’s eyes that are daring to bore a hole in Eddie’s soul even on the greyest of days like this one.

“No, I mean—” he swallows instead, fingers tightening around the bag as he lets something else out: “Thank you. For everything. Honestly, I don’t know where I’d be right now without you. This move probably would’ve happened before I even finished my probie year.”

He laughs and it’s a self deprecating thing but it’s also the only kind he has right now.

“Yeah, same.” It’s quiet when Buck says it, not as self deprecating as Eddie was expecting but maybe just as honest. “I mean not with the move but um…”

He looks down, shifting on his feet, and Eddie is caught in this quiet moment before the storm, unable to do anything but watch it come closer and see the way Buck licks his lips, turning the words over in this overthinker brain of his before he lets out: “Can I say something? Since we’re here and… Can I say something and can you promise not to make it a big deal?”

Eddie shrugs. He doesn’t know he’s in the eye of it. “Sure.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“No—I mean. I love you,” Buck repeats but the words have an entire different meaning now. “I am currently in love with with you, and I know that’s weird for you to hear but I wanted you to… hear it. Probably not the best timing though, but y’know.”

And that’s not fair. Because How can Eddie not make a big deal out of it when he’s long since lost hope that Buck would ever love him the same way he does Buck? How can he not when he’s long since convinced himself that Buck would never be a part of that joy he’s learning to allow himself to want and to have, not in the way he wants him to be. But how can he let that confession out, when he’s the one leaving?

And when Buck shrugs, looks at the ground, rocking on his hills, Eddie doesn’t have the time to think of a better response than the one that inevitably leaves his lips and he knows he’ll regret it later when the one that finds it’s way out is:

“Buck I gotta go…”

“I know,” Buck nods. “You should uh—you should go. I just needed to say it to your face while you’re still here and—y’know, not over the phone.”

Eddie gets that. He wishes he was brave enough to do it himself. He thinks maybe if it was any other time he would find it in him eventually, but he does need to get going if he wants to be in El Paso before night comes.

So Eddie stays quiet, and then Buck’s shaking his head frantically but still doesn’t meet his eyes, and he must think Eddie is breaking his promise and he probably is but Buck doesn’t need to know that so when Buck says—

“No, hey. You gotta go. And you promised.”

—it breaks Eddie’s heart to just leave it at that.

It’s the coward’s move, but it’s better than Buck knowing the truth and watching Eddie leave him anyway. Because this thing Eddie is feeling—this thing he’s been carrying inside for longer than he cares to admit—it’s not the kind of feeling Eddie would walk out on. And it’s not the kind of feeling he wants Buck to think it is when he does.

It’s not raining but the air is thick and wet and cold so it’s a near thing, and when Eddie pulls Buck into a hug, forces his head up to rest over his shoulder, grips him tight and breathes him in for what he’d never want to be the last time—there’s dampness on his cheeks when he pulls away.

He chooses to blame it on the air and not the stinging of his eyes.

It’s not raining when he closes the truck door behind him after another promise to call when you get there, Eddie, but the cold doesn’t bite the same way anymore, and his cheeks are still wet, and his eyes still sting, and so he can’t blame it on the air anymore.

It’s not raining, but there’s this heavy cloud around him that refuses to let the sunlight in. The one that he left standing on the curb and knows would blind him if he was brave enough to send a glance at its direction in the rearview mirror.

It’s not raining when he leaves his quiet suburban neighborhood.

But it is when he makes a U-turn a few blocks later.

It’s raining hard when he slams the door closed and runs up the walkway back to his own front door and it’s raining hard when Buck opens it with wide eyes and a confused look on his face.

“Eddie—what—?”

Eddie still isn’t sure about a lot of things. About this move or about how he’s going to fix everything with his kid and get him to come home, wherever that might be, as much as Eddie wants it to be LA. He doesn’t know a lot of things but he does know one thing and right now it’s the only one that matters and it’s this:

“I’m in love with you too,” he tells him on a shaky exhale. “I think I’ve always been in love with you. And—and I’m coming back, I promise, and we’ll have all the time in the world to figure it all out, but I needed to say it to your face before—”

It’s still raining when Buck crosses the threshold, stepping into the pouring rain with him and it’s still raining when he grabs Eddie by the collar of his shirt, drags him closer like a promise of his own, and kisses him.

It’s still raining when Eddie feels Buck’s hands shaking against the nape of his neck and the warmth of Buck’s cheeks against the palms of his own. Feels the shape of plump pink lips curling into a smile against his.

And it’s still raining.

But Eddie’s not as cold anymore.

Not with the sun shining through his closed eyelids, wrapping him in it’s arms.

#buddie fic #911 #911 abc #911 on abc #buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 fanfic #on ao3 #911 ao3 #my take on the goodbye scene that's been stuck in my head since the bts dropped

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silentstyx · 4 months ago

Note

Helloo could you do a mortal reader x percy jackson. Where percy gets tartarus nightmares and reader comforts him and he begins to open up and tell her the truth about him . And reader just continues to support him and comforts him

Orrr instead of rachel leading the labyrinth. Percy asks his mortal girlfriend and she meets annabeth and I want to see that interaction since the reader is pretty affectionate with percy and vice versa

PROTECTIVE ANNIE OR PERCYYY

No pressure ofc!!

Have a lovely day/night/evening!!

uh im gonna do these both but in like two different ways idk how to explain. lemme cook, idk just read this please:

Divine Confessions

sum! "mortal reader x percy jackson. percy gets tartarus nightmares and reader comforts him and he begins to open up and tell her the truth about him. reader continues to support him and comforts him"

tw! erm idk nightmares, none rly

percy woke up with his chest heaving, his breaths unsteady as he tries to calm himself down. he tried to sit up, yet it was like he was pinned to the bed in the dark room. his loud, wheezy breaths woke up the girl sleeping peacefully next to him. she groaned and flipped to look at him, with a grumpy look because it's the middle of the night and she was awoken from her slumber.

she then saw the pure panic and fear on his face, making her features soften. her brows knitted as she moved a hair out of his face.

"percy its okay, im here, ive got you and no one can hurt you. i promise." you reassure him.

he couldnt even move his head to look at you. he hated this. he felt so weak and vulnerable. he tried to respond but he couldnt think of something.

"ok cmon breath with me, perce." you whisper to him, softly as not to scare him anymore. you press soft pecks to his temple before taking breaths to show him.

he copies your breathing, slightly calming down from the affection. his brain started to realize there is no real threat besides his own imagination. gods. his own imagination has betrayed him yet again.

he was finally able to look at you, the worry strung on your face.

" 'm okay love" he reaffirms. he looks up at you and sighs, "just a nightmare, promise."

You cup his face, thumbs rubbing comfortingly on his cheeks, "percy what was the dream about that was so bad that you had a panic attack about it?"

He sighs, how is he supposed to tell his girlfriend that has two normal human parents that his dad is a greek god. let alone poseidon himself. "okay pretty, i gotta tell you something. you're not gonna believe me but i need you to listen."

the seriousness in his tone catches you off guard, you face him more. your brows furrow more, "what is it? are you okay?"

"im a demigod, my dad is poseidon, my nightmare was about one of the quests i went on to tartarus where i thought my best friend, y'know the girl annabeth i talked about? yeah her moms athena, she almost died while we were in tartarus." he explains, too quickly to make sense in your brain. it was practically a word jumble.

you just looked at him with a dumbfound look on your face until you breathed in and nodded, "okay."

now it was his turn to be dumbfounded. what? okay? you're just accepting it?

"only okay? is that all you have to say?" he asks incredulously.

"right now im super tired and im only really hearing like a fourth of everything your saying, we can talk about this more in the morning, okay?" you explain, rubbing your left eye. once you finish talking you yawned.

he nods and lays all the way down, resting his head back on the pillow with a light sigh. he was facing the opposite way so you come up behind him closer, laying your left leg over his and gently rubbing his spine. up and down with your strokes. this repeated gentle motion eventually lulled you and him to sleep.

the other part: Bound by Fate

#percy jackson #annabeth chase #heroes of olympus #percy jackson x reader #reader x percy jackson #annabeth chase x reader #heroes of olympus x reader #HoO #HoO x reader #kate unfiltered . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁#kate writes 𓂃🖊

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quinnsbrain · 1 year ago

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Miscommunication (the fun kind) Part 2

This is part 2, trust when I say it makes very little sense without part 1.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Synopsis: You meet him for your date, but it’s cut a little short.

Warnings: None I can think of other than cringe writing.

A/N: This took ages man, I don’t know what happened but I just felt a block so many apologies for taking so long.

As you click the little green button, you feel unnecessarily nervous. “Hello.”

“Hi.” He replies, and the smile that graces your lips can be heard from the other end of the phone.

“Doc. I’m glad you called.” You try to play it cool, but you know he can sense your excitement anyway.

“I’m glad you asked me to. Look, I’m on my way to a case right now, but I was thinking that when I get back we could do something? Go for dinner, maybe?” He sounds as nervous as you feel, and your heart spikes a little.

“Dinner sounds great. Have you thought of a place?” You do a little spin in the living room of your small apartment and you hear chatter in the background of the call.

“There’s this little restaurant that I normally get takeout from. I know them pretty well so they’ll keep me a table on short notice. They’ve got everything so statistically there’s bound to be something you like.” The way he speaks reaches a spot in your brain, fast and passionate, even about the most mundane things.

“I know I’m gonna like it because you do, and I trust your taste.” You bite your lip, wondering if that was too much.

“You should, I’m very particular.” His voice betrays the fact that he’s grinning, and you match his expression.

“I like particular. Particular is good.” Your voice has dropped a little subconsciously, and he’s about to reply when you hear the familiar voice of Agent Hotchner alerting Spencer that they need him.

“I’ve gotta go, but I’ll call you when I’m home?” You almost sigh in contentment at just the sound of him, but you snap out of it quickly to reply.

“I’ll be waiting patiently, Doc. I’ll see you.” You hang up, and stand in the middle of your living room for what seems like an hour but truly is only a few minutes. Why are you so attracted to this guy you only met a few nights ago?

But you feel as though you know him, from the way Penelope has talked about him, from the time you spent together. You feel as though you know them all.

—

You just sent in the final draft of your latest article. This one had been an absolute nightmare, being asked to write a piece on climate change. Your editors loved you for your fresh takes, but after so long there was no angle on climate change that hadn’t already been written. They seem fairly happy with it, but you can’t help the nagging feeling of wishing you could have done the proposed piece on how tourism is ruining the economy like you had wanted.

Through the annoyance of knowing you could have done better, you still feel slightly more at ease knowing the article is finished and out of your hands, and that you can relax and drink your fourth mug of coffee for the day. It’s eleven am.

But as you stand to stretch your achy muscles and make some fresh coffee, your phone rings. You know who it is before you even pick up, but make sure to check anyway just in case.

‘Spencer’ flashes on your screen, and you immediately sit down on your sofa, hitting the answer button and taking a readying breath.

“Hey Doc.” Your voice is unintentionally airy, but he doesn’t seem to notice - or he pretends not to - as he replies.

“Hey. I got back from work late last night, but I didn’t wanna call in case you were asleep. I was just wondering what you had planned for tonight?” The grogginess in his voice is evident, and it raises a question before you can even think about answering his.

“Spencer, how long ago did you wake up?” The simple question makes him go quiet for a moment before he speaks.

“I woke up just before I called you.” He sounds nervous to admit it, like he’s embarrassed to be caught thinking of you so soon into his day.

“Must have been thinking about me in your sleep then. And to answer your question, I’m free tonight.” You can’t hide the tinge of satisfaction knowing he thought about you maybe as often as you thought about him.

The small breath he sucks in doesn’t pass by you. You may not be a behavioural analyst but you are a damn good journalist, and you know what that little breath means. It says “you caught me”. Was he really thinking of you in his slumber? You note it down in the back of your head to try and slip out of him later.

“Would you like to go for dinner to that restaurant tonight?” He seems to have composed himself as he asks his question, and you try not to sound too enthusiastic as you eagerly say yes. “Okay, great- that’s great! I’ll pick you up at six… I don’t drive.” The defeat in his voice makes you laugh.

“How about I pick you up?” You suggest, calming his nerves. “You can tell me where to go.” Truthfully, you had already planned to drive him. Penelope told you once how he doesn’t drive, and you called her two days ago to reconfirm. This information, however, is not something you feel the need to tell him, because it seems a little obsessive - but you were just thinking logically of course - and you don’t want to weird him out quite so early.

He seems to be okay with the idea, and you’re thankful that he doesn’t take it as a blow to his ego like most men would. The call ends after a few short pleasantries - that are actually pleasant - and you immediately get to work.

You throw open the doors of your wardrobe and go straight to the dresses, very slowly narrowing it down to two options. A flowy red dress that you almost go with, and a simple black silk dress that ends just below your knees.

This one is for special occasions, and you deemed this a pretty special occasion. As you rummage through your box of shoes and stack of earrings trying desperately to find earrings and heels in the same colour, you come across a pair of purple strapped heels that you know you have drop earrings in a similar shade to. You just can’t find them.

Suddenly you notice that it’s 12:30 and your brain short circuits. Your entire room is thrown upside down and inside out until you find the earrings you’re looking for, and then neatly arranged back to its original state, all within thirty minutes. Now you have your little purple dewdrops and your outfit is complete, but you have four and a half hours until you need to leave and you know you’ll need it, albeit mostly to panic.

Four hours passes and you’ve showered, shaved, styled your hair and put on some light makeup. Your nail polish is just dry and you have your dress on, so you buckle your heels and stand. Twenty five minutes before you can leave. That’s not bad. You just have to wait twenty five minutes… But what if traffic is bad? You should probably leave fifteen minutes early for that, right? And if you think about it, the time between leaving your house and getting to the car wasn’t considered in the time it would take you to get there, and if you drag it out that’s a good five minutes. So really you only need to leave in five minutes. But what’s the point of waiting five minutes really? You should just leave now. Good idea.

As you park at his apartment building you realise you may have been a little over eager. The drive was ten minutes shorter than expected, so you’re around thirty minutes early. Which is embarrassing, so to speak. But you decide to head up early, a gut feeling telling you that it’ll be beneficial.

As you knock, he immediately opens the door and then a sheepish look comes over his face. “I saw you get out of your car.” He nervously rubs his hand on the back of his neck and it makes you smile. Then you take in his attire. He looks similar to when you met him in the bar, although he’s wearing white converse to match a white shirt underneath his brown suit. He’s also sporting a watch, and - most importantly - glasses. Damn those fucking glasses.

You realise you haven’t responded and are now intensely looking at his eyes, and he looks a little uncomfortable.

“Shit- sorry. I was just looking at you- I mean you look good- Great! You look great. You look… pretty. I like your glasses, do you wear them often?” Although you can feel yourself rambling into oblivion, you somehow can’t stop the flood of words that come out of your mouth.

His mouth opens for a moment as though he might speak, and then it shuts again. He stands aside to let you come in. “I never let you in.” He comments, sounding apologetic.

You shake your head in reassurance. “That’s alright, I wasn’t sure if you would even be ready since I’m so early. I never meant to be, I just kind of over thought it and now I’m here.” You wring your fingers together. Spencer noticed that you do it as a nervous habit when you met in the bar.

“I was ready an hour ago, I’ve just been reading while I waited for you. You can sit.” He motions to his sofa, and you sit next to the armrest so that you can turn and lean your back against it to face him sitting a little away from you. “You look beautiful. You remind me of a painting called ‘Madame X’, you probably know it. You could almost be a modernised retelling. Did you know that the painting caused an extreme public discourse as people thought the artist, John Singer Sargent, made the woman look deathly pale and scandalously unclothed.” He says all this with a little grin, and you can’t help but grin along with him.

The decision to tease him comes before you can truly think about it. “You think I look deathly pale and scandalously unclothed, Doc?” As the words come out of your mouth, he pales slightly.

“No, of course not! You remind me more of the principle. The woman was so beautiful she was renowned for her looks. Painters had all but begged her to do a portrait before, but she declined until she found Sargent. But even then, the people of Paris thought the painting didn’t do her beauty justice. Despite this, the painting became famous and beloved for hundreds of years around the world, and to this day is still considered a work of true historical art. A timeless beauty. That’s how I think you look.” His passion for little things shines through again, and your mouth is left slightly agape from his words.

“That was…” You can’t even think.

“A lot, I know. I tend to ramble a lot. I don’t really notice that I’m bothering people until it’s too late.” He rubs the back of his neck again, and the thought of people being bothered by him sends multiple emotions running down your spine.

You reach over and grab his hand with one of yours, the other going to touch his face. “I was going to say, that was awfully considerate of you. Never assume that you’re bothering me. Talk quite literally as much as you please, I want to know what you want to say… If we weren’t on our first date I’d readily teach you exactly how much I enjoy when you talk, but that can be saved for another time, maybe.” Your voice drops nearer the end, and he picks up on it as he sucks in a breath and nods vigorously.

“Definitely- I mean yes, sure. I will keep that in mind.” He’s still nodding as you smile at him, a proper smile.

“You’re pretty when you get flustered. You get all red, from the tops of your cheeks all the way down your neck.” You silently wonder if it goes further. You wish you could check. The hand on his face trails down his neck as you speak, emphasising what you mean.

He gets redder. How can he get redder? “Pretty. You’ve used that word on me twice now.” The comment seems to be more of an observation than a question, but you answer it as though it is one.

“I think you’re pretty. Handsome is a word I dislike. It reminds me of Ken, like Barbie and Ken. You’re not a doll, you’re a man, who just so happens to be pretty. I could call you beautiful instead, I’d say that adjective very accurately describes you too. Gorgeous, if that’s something you prefer.” You relent as the redness gets impossibly worse, and it makes you feel a little guilty. “Sorry, Doc, I just like seeing you flustered. I’ll call you handsome or something more masculine if you’re more comfortable with that.” You give him a little smile and pull your hand from his face.

He wouldn’t say it out loud but he wishes you would keep it there. He grasps your other hand tightly in his, and he shakes his head. “I don’t mind. You can call me whatever you feel like… You’re wearing purple. Purple is my favourite colour.” He looks away for a moment, and it warms your heart.

“Purple suits you, as a favourite colour I mean. Mine is green.” Your voice holds a gentleness in it that comes with caring for someone. It’s baffling. You’ve known him days. A week at most. You shouldn’t feel so… warm around him.

“Green makes sense. I think purple looks best on you though, which is definitely coming from a place of bias.” This makes you laugh, small and breathy, but he smiles at the sound.

You don’t realise how much time has passed until you hear a buzzing noise, and you both realise it’s a phone ringing. It’s coming from the other room so you assume it’s Spencer’s and he quickly gets up to answer. You can’t hear much from the wall between you, but when he comes back through looking thoroughly disappointed, you can tell it’s a work call. “Serial killers don’t stop for first dates sadly.” You remark, and he looks a little surprised.

“How did you know?” He questions, coming closer to you and you stand up to face him.

“I may not be a behavioural analyst, but I can tell what that face means. It means ‘I’m so sorry but I have to go stop murders’.” You smile to try and reassure him, but you can see the cogs whirring in his brain.

He seems to be thinking too many thoughts to process, but suddenly he dips down and kisses you. It’s short, but it’s soft, and you have a look of surprise on your face as he pulls away. “I wish we had gotten to go on our date, but I really wish that this doesn’t stop us from going on another one.” He looks at you in anticipation, and you melt.

“I wouldn’t pass it up for the world, Doc. Why don’t you go get ready and I’ll drive you there. We can plan the next one in the car.” You kiss his cheek and go to sit back down, and he shuffles away to his bedroom with a stupid smile tugging at his lips.

A/N: So… thoughts on part 3 with newly established relationship reid x reader ? Equally, thoughts on me adding smut somewhere along the line?

#criminal minds #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #fem!reader

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feyhunter78 · 1 year ago

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Breakdowns in Study Town - Nerd!Miguel

Description: After a long study session, your emotions get the best of you.

Shout out to @cannolithedarkpoet for the idea!!!

“I can’t do it; I’m going to fail.” You say, slumping down onto the table, burying your head in your arms, the hum of the air conditioner adding to your sensory overload. Your head hurts, your hand hurts, your stomach hurts, everything hurts, and you just want to cry.

“Hey, hey, no you’re not, you’ve almost finished it, just a few more problems to go.” Miguel says, sliding your notebook from under you. “Why don’t you tell me what you’re having trouble with, and I’ll see if I can explain it.”

“Everything. I’m having trouble with everything; I hate this stupid class.” You say, lifting your head slightly to look at him.

He smiles and adjusts his glasses before clicking his pen and beginning to circle several problems on the page in front of him. “Why don’t we break it into sections, then?”

You roll your head to the side, your brain hurts, and the florescent lights are making your eyes water. “Why don’t I just jump off the roof instead, that seems easier.”

“Y/N.” Miguel sighs, running a hand through his hair.

You bite your lip, fatigue pulling at your bones, hunger gnawing at your stomach. You’ve been at this for hours and you still can’t crack it. You just want to go back to your apartment and lay face down on the floor until you feel better. “I can’t do it, this is just not my thing, I’m going to fail, I’ve accepted it.”

“Look, it’s easy, you just need to give it another try.” Miguel urges, the words coming out too fast, too insistent, and they sound harsh, as if he’s annoyed with you and you start to spiral.

He’s annoyed with you, you’re annoying him, because you’re annoying. Stupid and annoying, and honestly, probably not even that pretty so you can’t even coast on your looks because who wants an ugly, annoying, stupid girlfriend? Which is probably why you don’t have a boyfriend, why Miguel would never date you. Stupid, stupid y/n, why did you even think you could do this? Why would you drag him all the way out here when you know you’re not smart enough? And now you’ve wasted so much of his time, and he’s realizing you’re not the fun, pretty sorority girl who just needs a little help. Just a little, enough to be cute and make him feel like a man, but not enough that it burdens him, but now you’re dead weight, an annoyance.

You sit up and start to gather your things, hands shaking as you blink back tears. “Sorry, I—I gotta go, I’m so sorry, I wasted like four hours of your life, I’m just going to study at home and—”

Miguel’s hands catch yours, gently forcing them to still. “Y/N, it’s okay.”

A sob works its way up your throat, escaping past the prison of your tightly pressed lips. “I’m sorry…”

“No, no, hey, hey, why are you apologizing?” His hands are gentle, he’s always so gentle, as he turns you to face him.

“I just—I—” You can’t even get the words out.

He turns your hands in his, rubbing circles into your palms, then the inside of your wrists. “Don’t cry, y/n, it’ll be okay, so what if you don’t do well on this test, the professor said he drops a major test grade at the end of the semester anyways.”

You hang your head, full on sobbing now, unable to hold it in. “That’s not it—it’s, you, you think I’m annoying, and stupid, and I’m not even pretty, and I’m never going to understand anything in this stupid class, so you’re just wasting your time with me.”

“What? Y/N, dulzura, no, no, you’re not annoying, I don’t think that, I’ve never thought that.” Miguel rushes to say, his hands hovering above your shoulders, unsure of whether or not to touch you.

“But I’m stupid, and I’m like average pretty, and I keep making you stay late in the library to help me study and—”

Miguel does something that surprises you. He laughs.

The sound startles you, makes your eyes flicker up to his face, vision blurred with tears as another sob wrenches itself from your chest. “And now you’re laughing at me.”

He cups your face with both hands, fingers spreading out, in your hair, resting on the sides of your neck, his pinkies smoothing over the skin of your pulse point. “You’re funny, you know that?”

You stare at him, confused and miserable.

“Y/N, you’re not stupid, not annoying, not ugly, and you’re not wasting my time.” He says soothingly, his voice low, his hands warm against your skin. “You’re so smart, remember when you won that trivia contest for your sorority? You beat every other team, by yourself. And you’re not annoying, you’re never annoying, I wouldn’t be here if you were.”

You nod weakly, your sobs turning into sniffles, a deranged thought taking hold. “Do you think I’m pretty?”

Miguel’s face tints red and his eyes drop to the floor. “Y/N come on; everyone thinks you’re pretty.”

“But do you?” You ask quietly, your fingers finding purchase in his faded blue sweatshirt.

His eyes meet yours, and they’re stunning, flecked with gold and green, warm, and intent, staring straight into your soul but shying away right before you all but shove it into his hands. He leans into your touch, a subconscious movement that makes your heart flutter. “Creo que eres la chica más hermosa que he visto en mi vida.” Trsl: I think you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.

Your voice is barely above a whisper, afraid to ruin the moment, to shatter whatever lays between the two of you right now. “I don’t speak Spanish, Miguel, you know this.”

“Yes, dulzura, I think you’re pretty.” He admits, using his thumbs to wipe away the last of your mascara tainted tears.

“I think you’re pretty, too.” You say, biting back a smile when he short-circuits, his eyes darting around the room.

“Thank you…” He stutters out, leaning back suddenly, as if he’s just now realized how close together the two of you are.

Your stomach growls, the sound echoing in the small room.

“Do you want to get food?” You ask, pulling out a compact mirror from your backpack and trying to rid yourself of the remaining mascara stains.

“Sure, I could eat.” He says, his body is turned from you, but you can feel his eyes lingering.

TL: @bat-bae, @nyctophilic0vitnir, @smokeywhalee, @obi-mom-kenobi, @prowlingforfood, @penggion, @crystal-crax, @oharasfilipinawife, @generalkenobitrash, @melsimps, @chrishy973, @farrowroyale, @palesatan, @scaryplanetdestroyer

#meg's writing #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #college!miguel #college!reader #nerd!miguel #nerd miguel #nerd!miguel o'hara #sorority!reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n

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atsadi-shenanigans · 4 months ago

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FSBE 9 - Date Night

You get some.

On AO3.

It don’t work.

“Yet,” Gale stresses. “Which is the entire point of testing. We’ll try again here in, oh, three days’ time? That’s all part of a research strategy. Documentation.”

Man is such a nerd. It’s adorable. Especially since it seems to be pulling him outta that shitty ass commandment from his bitch-ass goddess to blow himself up.

Gods ain’t fucking shit. Goddamn shocker.

Astarion waits at your tent when you stagger over. You’re only a little bleary-eyed, just enough to soften his features and sharpen your tongue.

“Fuck,” you say.

“Hello to you as well, my sweet,” he says. “I take it that means the wizard is finished with you?”

You reach the tent. He does seem to have cleaned up. His hair is in its usual floof, his camp shirt only slightly musty (not a lot of washing y’all can do between a lava lake and this dump).

You ain’t cleaned shit, and you’re a beat down dog, tonight.

“Well?” Astarion says. Waits while you stand there like a loser.

You know, intellectually, that Gale is right. Standardized testing documents changes in a gradual process. One test, especially the first one, don’t necessarily mean shit. If he’s right about the other thing (your lungs go tight trying to form the word because you fucking failed, goddamn worthless) it’ll take time. Like learning any skill. Like them rich bitches from Texas who pay a hundred grand to get a Sherpa local to haul their ass up Everest. Even they gotta spend time at base camp. Let their body adapt. Can’t double the red blood count overnight, and trying tends to cause swelling in the lungs or brain. And then, like, death.

“Still a dud,” you say and almost bite the inside of your cheek to distract from the way your throat tightens.

“A dud?” He sounds out the word like somebody taking a bite of foreign food. Slow. Careful.

Oh, the limits of dirt potion.

“Means I don’t work,” you say.

He cocks his head to the side. There’s something on his face, around the edges of his eyes…then it’s gone, slipped beneath the surface as his usual smarm ass grin spreads across his lips. “You work for me, darling.”

And you can’t help it. It’s so fucking cheesy. Punctures right through the balloon of self-pity and it bursts out of you in a high snort. “Oh my god, you’re such a dork.”

He don’t even lose his grin. “A what?”

You shake your head. The literal etymology aside, you don’t wanna ruin the mood explaining. Besides, the two of you standing out here all but screaming “hookup” to anybody with a set of eyes…

You lift the tent flap. Duck inside. He follows after you.

“No owlbear this time?” he says.

Just your bedroll and your bag. You ain’t got no fancy rugs or nothing. Even if you had been inclined to start hoarding (and you was), the Underdark took everything. You probably didn’t need half a dozen mismatched forks anyway, right?

“I asked Wyll to take him,” you say.

“Oh~,” Astarion fucking drawls. Gives a shoulder shimmy. “Wanted the two of us alone at last?”

There ain’t no goddamn reason for you to get shy now. You was alone with him for over a week down in them caves. Sleeping in his tent, going full Poo-bear. And yeah, he was blind for that one, but you was wrapped up in only his blanket, cooch out, as he lit a fire in his hand to warm you.

All that before he done stuck his fingers up inside you.

Yet here y’all are. You dropped the fur baby off with a sitter and brought home a man. Elf. Vampire. And it’s taking all you got not to squirm at his proximity.

Especially as he closes the distance between y’all.

“It’s been days since I’ve tasted your lips,” he says. Like a normal person. “It’s all rather distracting. All I can think of, when I ought to be paying attention in battle. Terribly dangerous if I’m lost in remembering the next time we’re attacked.”

Holy god, you wonder when he came up with that one. If he practiced it in his head. How many times he did to make it come out like that. Fucking weirdo. (Yet your insides do a little loop-de-loop anyways.)

He’s so close. Offering you, well, you ain’t quite sure yet. But being close is nice. His touch is nice. And you feel rotten. Tired and sore, and that’s before you get to anything physical. All you want is to lean against him and let everything else disappear for a bit.

“So you’re saying I should kiss you better?” you say.

“I wouldn’t want to presume,” says the man sliding his hands along your hips to draw you closer as goosebumps sweep up your arms and down your thighs.

“I mean.” Your breath ghosts over his lips and you also have to fight the urge to twist away. It seems too…intimate. Almost rude. “It’s to save your life, right?”

“Most certainly.”

He’s so hard to figure out. So many different facets. And some of them is downright nasty. Then he goes and does shit like this, and it tugs at something inside you. A fishhook you went and swallowed, reeling you in by the guts.

“We can’t have that,” you say.

He closes the last, lingering distance.

You kissed him all of what, three times? Does one count each session or each kiss? Cause it turns out they come in groups. All blending together into a moment. Lips gliding. The vibration of his voice as he makes small noises. The mortifying sigh that escapes your nose as you fucking relax into him.

And then his cool fingers circle your wrists (arms hanging at your sides like a dork because you ain’t sure what to do with them) (you are, you just…it’s too forward). Bring them up to place your hands at his neck.

You squeak. Can’t help it. Regress twenty years into a sitcom teenager.

He breaks off. Seems more softly amused than anything, thank fuck. “My sweet little treat. You’re flushed, darling.”

You try (and fail) to regain your breath. Without panting all over him. “That’s supposed to happen.”

“Mmm,” he says. Nuzzles against the side of your face like a man-sized cat. “Only when you’re with a talented lover.”

This one comes out a giggle. A soft huff. When he pulls back again, he’s wearing the softest smile you ever seen.

Then he’s sitting. Tugging you down after him. You straddle his lap and your pulse thunders in your ears. Your stomach does a somersault as his hands circle around to the small of your back and he pulls you close. Spread over his lap again.

He kisses you more. Slips a little tongue, this time. And hey! You still ain’t used to that! Still make weird sounds and then your skin burns as you shudder in his grasp.

His lips move, slide up the side of your face. Up to your ear. “How would you like it this time, lover?”

Holy fucking god.

Nobody. Nobody. Has ever said anything like that to you. Your mouth goes dry as all the moisture in your body seems to slam down between your legs.

Any way you want, you want to say. Barely stop yourself (as the ghosts of shameful past scream in your head).

You search his face. Soft. Smarm. All heavy-lidded. The fingers of his left hand brush softly up and down the back of your neck (should you mimic that).

He’s done this once with you. And he didn’t get anything…reciprocal with it. You ain’t sure it’s okay to ask again. Relationships is about sharing, right? So he should have a turn. Right?

“Do you, uh.” You start strong. Chicken out halfway through. Then force yourself to commit like a grown ass woman straddling a man’s lap. “Do you want a turn?”

Yes. Great. Excellent phrasing there, Ripley. So mature. So self-confident.

He leans away a few inches, you think so he can see your face. Something in his eyes…but then it’s gone. And he’s all liquid lust again.

“But what of you, my sweet?”

Oh jesus. God help you. Fucking talking is hard. This is bullshit.

“I mean. I got to. Y’know. Last time.” It’s not sexy to cringe while straddling a man’s lap. Nobody’s lap, but especially not his when y’all are, well, dating (holy fuck). “And you didn’t. I mean. Unless later you, uh. Which is fine! I’m not. It. It doesn’t bother me or nothing!”

He blinks at you. Doesn’t seem like he’s gonna laugh in your face? Just looks…puzzled. “Are you asking if I’ve touched myself?”

No. Cool. Y’all’re talking about masturbation now. This is fine. Totally okay. You’ll just collect yourself, wish him a good night, and then walk outside to join the legion of shadow puppets.

“You don’t have to answer that,” you say. You’re dodging. Covering. It’s stupid obvious, but you don’t care because you wandered into an area you shouldn’t be in, and you need to get out and get out now. “Sorry. I just thought. Um. If you wanted. Uh.”

But he leans in so close his features go blurry. Might as well’ve slapped a hand over your mouth.

“You want to know?” he says, voice gone silky.

Holy shit.

…has he?

Oh neat, now your own voice done left the chat room. You hope it’s having a nice fucking time hanging out with your missing social awareness, common sense, and thirty-five-years-old fucking sense of maturity.

Then Astarion pecks you on the lips. Pulls you flush against him. “Shall I tell you, darling? How I took myself in hand thinking of you? Imagining you just…”

His hips lift. Yeah, he’s hard. He grinds right up against you and it punches the air clean outta your lungs.

“Like this?”

Grinds again. That is an erection. Rubbing between your legs. Y’all are both fully clothed, but that don’t diminish the knowledge one fucking bit.

He did. Holy fuckballs.

He lowers his head to kiss your neck. The tips of his fangs graze your skin as he suckles. He’s gonna leave another mark. Goddamnit.

“Would you like to know how I pictured you? Taking me so sweetly? Singing so prettily as I filled you?”

You clap a hand over your mouth. Who even talks like this?

“Do you think of me, darling? When you touch yourself? When you retrieve that toy of yours?”

Good god almighty, the man is obsessed with your dildo. But, not in a bad way. You think. You heard of that. It, like, challenges some guys and their sense of masculinity or whatever. But this seems almost…envious?

You think of him sliding down, onto one of his own, mouth falling open and you accidentally grind down hard on him.

So now you have to cover for that. “I. I haven’t. Used that, I mean.”

He still rocks you against him. Jesus lord, y’all are dry humping. This is goddamn dry humping.

“Whyever not?” he says.

“C-can’t just. Drop it into the camp pot, can I? Need to boil that sunuvabitch. So I don’t get Faerun herpes.”

One hand stays on the back of your neck. The other slides down, across your hips. Over your thigh. Traces up to the juncture between your legs. He lifts his head to look at you, a silent question. Asking permission.

But he says it, too. “May I?”

This is crazy. He’s crazy. You’re more crazy. A couple hours from killing a man (thing) and going into shock, and it turns out tomfoolery really does turn the brain to scrambled eggs. Because while part of you know this is a terrible idea and you might be a horrible fucking person. The rest of you? Doesn’t really care right now.

“Yes,” you say.

His hand slips between your legs to stroke the outside of your pants. It ain’t nowhere near like him dipping under that blanket in his tent in the Underdark. But it’s still enough you gasp and arch against him.

His lips find your throat again. His fangs scrape. You shiver against him. Then the hand behind your neck moves. Comes around to the front of your stays. He don’t ask, this time. Don’t even try to get under them; he done went and picked up how you shy from that (though sweet baby jesus, the thought of his mouth on your nipple, teeth nibbling…)

“It sounds like we ought to build our own fire, then,” he says. It takes you a minute to connect conversations. “And I don’t just mean like this.”

His hand disappears before his cool fingers slide over the hem of your pants. Settle on the buttons. You’re already slicker than a shit chute. Can feel it as you move.

“I could help you ready for it, darling,” he says. “Bring you to it, just like this.”

He gets the front open. His fingers move down, over your lower belly.

“I could watch you take it.”

But that. That one’s too far. Eyes on you, the whole congregation witnessing your shame. You can’t stop the flinch.

Astarion pauses. Looks to you, his gaze sharp. He plays airheaded, but you seen him demolish critters and people, and the way he looks at you now is similar. There’s brains behind them eyes.

“No,” he says. “Perhaps not that.”

He releases the front of your stays to guide you down to kiss him all sweet and gentle again. Just as his fingers slip inside your drawers and find your clit.

“Oh,” he hums directly into your mouth. “You certainly liked part of that, though. Is it the thought of using it, perhaps? Shall I hold it for you?”

You make a noise. Too loud, too loud. The others will hear. They know (or suspect, bare minimum) what’s going on in here, but you don’t gotta go hollering about it. Might literally die if anybody says anything tomorrow.

The image though. You only got to use that toy a few times (wasn’t even sure it’d fit, but some prep work and going slow and it was fine; only stung a little at the very first).

His fingertip brushes over your clit again. The contact jolts through you.

“You’re quite riled up,” Astarion says. “We mustn’t wait so long between the next time, hmm? Not when we can have this.”

Man sounds a bit frazzled, the edges of his words fraying. Even as he circles you, fingers slipping through the mess down there. Caressing slow and sure, until you start rocking against him despite yourself. You need more, goddamnit. You done this the one time with him, but your body remembers. It already knows his touch brings pleasure. It leaps at it. You want it. God almighty, you want it.

“Please,” you whisper, cheeks burning. “Astarion…”

“Mmm, yes?” His fangs linger over where he likes to bite you. Fingers trace up your spine as his other hands works inside your pants. It occurs to you that the only one holding you against his touch is you. You are the one putting pressure on his hand. And that sets your body on fire.

His tongue presses against your neck. And the idea just pops in there. All on its own. Too many movies. Too many social media posts. But.

You lift a hand. Press it carefully to the back of his head where his hair is downy soft, beneath the stiffer parts he must pomade up into them swoops. You urge him closer, to bury his face against your neck.

“Please,” you say again. “You can. You can.”

He bites. Hot, sharp pain lances up the side of your neck. You gasp and pull away. But that presses his other hand harder between your legs and it hits. The pleasure. The pain. How he grabs the back of your neck, moaning into you and the way his scent fills your nose and the wet sounds of him touching you and suckling at your neck.

The orgasm rips through you. Sends you bucking against him, trying like hell to stay quiet. Slapping your hand over your mouth even as you cradle his head, pressing him to you. You come right on his hand again, his fangs buried in your neck.

This, you realize, is how you’re going to accidentally train yourself into the most embarrassing Pavlovian response in human history.

#fsbe #these two shitheads #bg3 #astarion #astarion x tav #tavstarion #smut chapter #how you train an embarrassing Pavlovian response #tavstarion fic

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simpforpeterp · 7 months ago

Text

Stanford Pines x Reader

Movin’ Out

summary: ford gets a job at the very grocery store you work at to pay for college. lucky for you, you get to train him! enjoy

warnings: none

word count: 1.23k

“Hey, kid, feel comfortable training someone?” Miranda, the store manager, asks as your last customer walks away.

“Not at a-“

“Great! This is Ford.” She pushes a young man toward you as you slowly turn that way, not realizing he was right there.

“Hi. I would ask your name but it’s right there.” He points to your name badge.

“Hi,” You nod politely before realizing your manager is quickly walking away. “What am I training you in?”

“I don’t know, everything?” He says and you let out a sigh.

“I’m definitely not the right person for this, I just got hired two weeks ago so let’s see how this goes.” You smile as you go to shut off your register.

Ford waits until you’re walking in front of him to sigh. He doesn’t even want this job. He quite frankly doesn’t have the time but he has to pay his way through school somehow. Going to Backupsmore, there was a bunch of other rejected, tortured, smart kids just like him that got scholarships more than his. He needs money. He needs money so he can start eating real food again.

And just his luck, on his first day of work, he’s stuck getting trained by someone who barely knows what they’re doing.

“I’m barely starting to know what I’m doing.” You tell him as you reach a back room with a bunch of returns and left behinds.

You go on your tiptoes to reach a rope looking thing with a hook on the end and pull another one down for him. He accepts it when you put it in his hand and begin leading him out the front doors.

“We’re starting easy with carts. Here is our map of the different parking lot sections,” You point to a color coordinated map of the sections. “On each cart corral, there’s tape that matches to each section. If a manager asks you to go outside to, let’s say, yellow, you’d exit through produce and stick to the corrals with yellow tape. Simple enough, yeah?”

“More than simple enough,” He clears his throat. “I’m a physics major, I’m capable of reading a map.”

“You should be glad I’m taking my time with this, take a look around,” You gesture to the crowded store. “It’s a Sunday. Sunday’s are the worst because everyone is trying to shop for the week. We’re getting paid to do nothing right now. Now, come on, let’s go to purple.”

He reluctantly follows you as you lead him through the parking lot to the very back. You begin to explain the way you push carts here, how you put the hook through the metal and how many carts to push at a time and where to take them. He continues to check his watch and pray this training will be over soon.

As Ford checks his watch for the third time, you notice his impatient expression, and it’s hard not to smirk.

“You’re really in a hurry, huh?” You tease, keeping your tone light. “Don’t worry, Einstein, you’ll get to the actual brain work soon enough.”

Ford’s eyebrows raise slightly, and he gives a reluctant chuckle, glancing up at you. He notices the playful look on your face and that’s when he realizes how nice your smile is. There’s that smile crinkle by your eyes that make them shine even brighter.

“Yeah, well… let’s just say this isn’t exactly where I imagined myself on a Sunday. But, hey, everyone’s gotta start somewhere.” He sighs.

“Everyone’s gotta start somewhere,” You repeat, nodding. “And unfortunately, that somewhere is here in the back of the purple section, dragging carts in the heat.”

He lets out a sigh, his shoulders visibly slumping, and it hits you how worn-out he looks. He’s obviously intelligent, probably a lot smarter than the usual hires around here, but something about him seems weighed down, almost as if he’s been carrying too much for too long.

“Why are you here, anyway? You don’t exactly seem… thrilled about the job either.” As the two of you finish up with the carts, he speaks up again, almost out of nowhere.

“Why am I here? That’s a good question. I guess ‘barely making rent’ is a pretty good reason.” You laugh a little at his bluntness, pushing a stray hair behind your ear.

“Yeah… I get that. Tuition’s no joke, and the scholarships don’t cover everything.” He tells you.

“Oh, so you’re here to pay your way through school?” You ask as you both start pushing the last row of carts back toward the store.

“Pretty much. Not exactly by choice, but sometimes you have to do what you have to do.” He shrugs, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly in a resigned smile.

For a moment, he seems almost vulnerable, like he’s showing you a piece of himself he doesn’t usually share.

“Yeah, tell me about it,” You reply, feeling a small connection form between you two.

“You go to school out here too?” He asks as you reach the store entrance,

“UCLA,” You nod with a smile. “I’m studying anthropology. I took too long to pick a major so my dad picked for me.”

“UCLA, nice. Are you an antiquarian type?” He asks.

“Not really,” You laugh, shaking your head. “I mean, ancient artifacts are cool and all, but I’m more interested in people—why they do what they do, how cultures shape them. Plus, anthropology was the closest major to 'figuring out life' that my dad could find. I’ve never really been a school person but I like people. Most of the time.”

“I can see that. You seem pretty curious about the world. But I guess you’d have to be, working here and not losing your mind.” Ford smiles at that, and for the first time, it feels like he’s genuinely enjoying the conversation.

“Come on, let’s go do a basket pick up.” You nudge him.

After showing him how to do sweeps of the main floor, the baskets, bagging, returns, left-behinds, damages, propane exchanges, and ice purchases, you’re pretty much done.

You get him to talk more throughout and he becomes actually enjoyable to talk to. Spreading him open is the only one to know him, he doesn’t slowly open up. You have to push a little. But he eventually talks more and more. And talking turns to laughing which is even more fun.

As you head back to the registers after completing the rounds, Ford’s laughter lingers in the air—a sound that’s both rare and surprisingly warm. You can tell he doesn’t laugh like this often, maybe because he doesn’t have the time or maybe because he doesn’t think there’s much to laugh about. But today, you’ve somehow cracked through that careful, studious exterior, just a little.

“You know,” he says as you both lean against a counter, taking a breather, “I didn’t expect to actually enjoy this. I thought it’d just be another job. But… you make it interesting.”

“Well, I’m glad I could make ‘dragging carts in the heat’ slightly more bearable for you.” You smile, noticing a slight blush on his cheeks.

“So…when do you work next?” He asks almost nervously.

“Tuesday. You?”

“Tuesday.” He says with a small smile.

“Okay, Ford,” You smile back at him. “See you Tuesday. Maybe you’ll be able to help me finally memorize those produce codes.”

#gravity falls #stanford pines x reader #stanford pines #ford pines #gravity falls ford #my fic #grocery store #billy joel

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mattyriddlegf · 7 months ago

Text

The Stupid Closet (22)

Happy Sunday release day everyone! I really appreciate all of the love you guys have shown this story and I can't wait for the rest to come out! There's 35 chapters total!

enjoy

-----------

A week later, classes were back to normal and you didn’t feel near as much pressure as you had. It was nice to give your mind a break.

You're leaving your last class on Friday, talking to Michael Corner, a ravenclaw about your history of magic class.

“Hey I actually have a question for you” he mentions.

“If it’s about getting my notes again, you can forget it! Yours are just fine” you laugh, half joking. He had a tendency to get anxious about not taking good enough notes.

“No it’s not that. It actually doesn’t have to do with class…” he trails off.

“Oh…ok. What’s up?”

“Are you really dating Mattheo Riddle? If not, maybe we could have a study date?” He asks timidly.

“Oh Michael” you smile lightly, “I appreciate your offer but I am with Mattheo and…and it’s pretty serious”

“Oh…”

“Listen, I’ll see you in class next week and maybe we can study together but not as a date. How does that work?” You ask. You didn’t want to be rude and Michael has always been sweet to you.

“Ok sure. Thanks” he smiles lightly before walking away.

You felt kinda bad but it was so much fun to tell people you and Mattheo were together. You and Mattheo were in love.

You walk back to the slytherin house, switching out your books before heading to the library to meet with Draco. You normally didn’t meet on Fridays but you figured just an hour of doing homework wouldn’t hurt. That way, you had more free time over the weekend.

You and Draco work on transfiguration homework for a while until you finish the assignment and decide that that’s enough.

“Are we doing anything tonight as a group?” You ask.

“Probably not much since there’s a match tomorrow” ah yes, another quidditch match.

You walk back to the slytherin house together, talking about the most recent thing Potter did to annoy Draco, you always loved the entertainment.

You reach your dorm door and say goodbye as he walks to his. After you walk in, you go to your chest at the end of your bed and put your books away.

“Hey Pans” you say, seeing Pansy flipping through a magazine on her bed.

“Hey” she nonchalantly says before looking up, “uhm, have you talked to Mattheo?”

“No, not today, why?” You ask, turning your attention to her.

“You mean you haven’t heard?” She asks.

“Heard what? What is it?”

“Michael Corner? That ravenclaw? He got in a fight with Mattheo. He was getting fixed up in the hospital wing last I heard. Mattheo messed him up pretty good” she says before she flips to her next page.

You stand there, your brain not processing what she just said. Michael…got in a fight…with Mattheo? What?

“Uh, I’ll be back later” you say before leaving your dorm and walking to Mattheo’s dorm.

You barge in and he’s in the bathroom, washing off his hand.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” You ask, already mad.

“Excuse me?” He turns the faucet off and walks towards you, “say that again.”

“What happened? Why did you beat up Michael?” Mattheo scoffs at your questions before replying.

“You mean your next date?” He asks, emphasizing the last word.

“You’ve gotta be joking Mattheo.” You laugh before continuing, “I turned him down.”

“Yeah I know.” He says simply like that wasn’t enough.

“Okay then what’s the problem? And how the hell do you even know?” You ask, irritated.

“Daphne heard and then told pansy and she let it slip.” He says. “You are not the problem, he was.”

“Mattheo I had it handled.” You raise your voice, “you had no right.”

“Fuck off” Mattheo says quietly before walking right around you and leaving the room.

You stand there, dumbfounded. You knew exactly where he was headed. As you walk out, Theo is walking in, “hey is everything ok?”

“Just fine Theo.” You say, following after Mattheo. You follow him up to the astronomy tower. When you reach the top, you see him lighting a cigarette.

“You can’t just walk away from me Mattheo. We need to talk about this.” You say crossing your arms, the late fall chill was settling in.

“I was just trying to help you. He needed to be put in his place” he says, blowing out smoke as he shrugs.

“I don’t need you to fight my battles for me. You were way out of line.” You yell back at him.

“I mean who even is the guy? He’s a mudblood anyways, he deserved a punch to the face” he says nonchalantly.

“That’s bathsit crazy Mattheo! You’re acting like your parents!” You say without even thinking. You regret it as soon as it leaves your mouth.

Mattheo looks at you, going dead in the eyes. He lets his cigarette burn, his arm hanging down.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that” you immediately say.

“Yeah you did.” He says quietly, putting out the cigarette, not even half used.

“Mattheo…” you didn’t know what to say.

“Just leave. I don’t want you here.” Mattheo says, his voice raising just a bit.

“Matty come on…” you trail off. He couldn’t be serious.

He doesn’t say a word, he just stares at you. You cross your arms again, the cold suddenly hitting you.

“You’re gonna let me walk away?” You ask, hurt.

Again, no response.

You start shaking your head, tears forming, “Fine. Don’t bother stopping by any time soon.” You say before you turn around and leave without looking back.

Did you just break up? You weren’t sure but either way it hurt.

You walk back alone to your dorm, pansy still there.

“Woah are you okay?”

“No.” You say simply.

“What happened?” She asks, getting up.

“I don’t know, Mattheo and I got into a fight and I-” you wipe the silent tears off your cheeks, “I told him he was like his parents”

“You what?” She hugs you for a moment and then backs away.

“I think we just broke up.” You say. You still weren’t sure.

“Honey. That boy is so in love with you, you just broke his heart saying that.” Pansy says, shrugging.

“I didn’t mean it, I was just so mad at him” you try to explain yourself.

“I think you both need to cool off for the night. You guys won’t get anywhere trying to talk tonight.” She replies before slipping her shoes on, “wanna go down to dinner with me?”

“Uh no, I’m gonna stay here. Thanks” you smile lightly, trying to signify you were ok but you absolutely were not.

Pansy smiles back pitifully before leaving you alone to wallow.

You felt terrible, you didn’t want to lose him over this. You didn’t want to lose him at all.

You sit down on your bed, just thinking for a while before your eyes get tired. Pansy hadn’t come back but you suspected she was trying to hang out with Draco.

You lay down in bed for the night, drifting off to sleep soon after, still thinking about what you could say to Mattheo tomorrow.

taglist: @helendeath @mayamonroem @princessluvssleep @hatakemrs @feistyfox47 @malydiavsss @schaebickel @swamp-box @iamdnb @cindyss

#hogwarts fanfiction #slytherin #harry potter #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys #mattheo #mattheo riddle #mattheo x you #mattheoxreader

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