#and the pink and yellow suit her so well

[whos-hotter-jjba]

Hottest JJBA Outfit Bracket - Higashikata Mitsuba Preliminary Poll

[lackablazeical]

Redid my Empires season 1 Joel, easily my favorite perspective to watch

While I DO understand the point of the full British suit. I hate it and I wanted to do smthn different

So I took inspiration from Arabic Sultans as well as the Anasazi tribes (the ppl who built the Mesa-Verde ), I wanted to give a colorful but sharp and prideful air to him, sort of like a flashy bird

So mostly pinks, blues, and greens that would stand out strongly against the dusty oranges of the Mesa, as he wants to be seen EASY. His main color is the pinkish-purple of his original jacket w/ complementaries of the yellow and green, with blue to add visual diversity. The patterns are inspired off of north-mexican native weaving patterns & Arabic geometric architecture, but heavily simplified

He has pearls littered around his clothes from Lizzie bc he loves her <33 he has a leaf on his head that he insists is normal and natural bc he doesn't believe in magic (he also ignores his enchanted items)

Joel is also actually usually really dirty/dusty, and he takes extreme care to be presentable to any other rulers, he goes thru like 7 pairs of gloves a day cus they get stained real easily

He's very strong tho, from carrying all the clay/concrete, he can pick up lizzie no probles 💪💪 may redraw Joey next idk

[lovebugism]

shy!reader goes to the pool with Eddie and is too afraid to wear her swimsuit in front of him? Maybe she’s wearing clothes over her bikini/one piece and doesn’t want to undress at first because of her nerves lol

hope u like it! — you still get a little nervous showing your body, but eddie takes it all in stride (shy!fem!r, established relationship, cw for mentions of body insecurity, 1.1k)

Eddie’s rubber flip-flops are much too big on your feet. You fight to keep them on and match his longer strides at the same time. He leads you down the scenic trail of the Harrington vacation home with one hand curled intently around your own. He doesn’t seem phased by the dirt clinging to his bare feet.

“Think Steve’s folks will get mad if we skinny dip?” he jokes over his shoulder, wild curls billowing in the late afternoon wind.

You shrug. “I don’t think they own the lake, so…”

“I wouldn’t put it past them,” he scoffs.

“Me neither,” you concur with a quiet laugh.

A set of wooden steps lead off the trail and towards the shore. They creak under your weight, ancient and half-eroded with time. Eddie stands beside you on the dock, lips curled into a pink, lopsided smile. “Well, what they don’t know won’t hurt ‘em,” he quips before reaching for the hem of his shirt.

You giggle when he lifts the fabric up and over his head. His milky white torso is left on display for you, sprinkled with sparse hair and a couple of faded tattoos. His body is lanky and lean — stomach soft with gentle pudge where his happy trail begins. You couldn’t hide your leering if you wanted to.

“You’re crazy,” you say, still laughing.

“Crazy for you,” the boy croons. 

You watch him reach for the buttons of his jeans, fumbling with them for a moment. Your chest swirls with a strange, hollow feeling. “Wait— Are you serious?” you wonder with wide, glimmering eyes. You’ve never felt totally comfortable swimming in a bathing suit, let alone naked.

Eddie shrugs his freckled shoulders and tugs his jeans down his scruffy thighs. “Yeah. Why not?”

He’s left in his thin, plaid boxers now. He doesn’t seem nearly as fazed by it as you do. Heart thrumming like an anxious hummingbird, your eyes dart over your shoulder and back to him. “What if the others see?!”

“Then let ‘em see,” he chuckles, golden like the early setting sun. “Who cares?”

I care, you almost say, ‘cause you’re too pretty, and I’m not pretty enough. 

You swallow your loathing and instead reply, “Steve would never let you live it down if he caught you out here. You know that.”

Eddie’s bare feet pad against the creaking wooden dock. The sound is mostly drowned out by the waves ebbing and flowing beneath you. Nothing could hide the heavenly sound of his laughter, though. “What? That I’m skinnydipping with the prettiest girl in Indiana?” the boy retorts with a boyish chuckle. “I wouldn’t want him to let me live it down.”

You swallow hard, not swayed by the compliment. Your unsure gaze flits to your feet and the black sandals Eddie lent you on the way down. You see his paler, bare ones come into view just before his calloused palms smooth over your waist — above the oversized t-shirt you wear, which also belongs to the boy in front of you.

“I’m just… I’m just kidding, you know? About the skinnydipping thing,” Eddie assures you, suddenly serious and much quieter with it. His head ducks down to catch your falling gaze. His chocolate eyes sparkle beneath the yellow sun. His lips curl into a lopsided smile. “We don’t have to do it if it makes you uncomfortable. We never have to do anything you don’t want, you know that.”

You purse your lips to the side and think for a moment. You’re not nearly as at ease swimming naked as he is, but you’d be silly to turn down the opportunity to be alone with him. You have spent the entire weekend babysitting, after all.

“Can I keep my bathing suit on?” you wonder sheepishly.

Eddie scoffs. “Of course you can! You can do whatever you want, doll. I’m followin’ your lead here.”

He smacks a kiss to your lips, mouth tasting of nicotine, soda, and strawberries — like nostalgia and springtime.

“Can you turn around?”

Eddie meets your coy look with a wider smile. “Yeah. Sure,” he hums and steps back from you to spin on his heel. You know he’ll see you in your bathing suit before you step foot in the water, but you’ve always felt distinctly smothered by his gaze. You don’t feel half deserving of the adoration always swimming in the deep brown of them.

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before, you know?” he quips without looking at you.

“It’s different,” you insist, pulling your t-shirt up and over your head. You fold it neatly before setting it gingerly on the dock. You’re left in the pretty one-piece you thrifted before the trip — a floral number that dips low at the chest and ties into a bow at the back.

Eddie doesn’t really understand, but he figures he doesn’t have to. He’ll do whatever makes you most comfortable, no questions asked. “Sure,” he nods. “Can I look now?”

You hesitate for a reason you can’t name. You feel more at ease with Eddie than anyone else in the whole wide world — and besides the fact that he’s seen you in much, much less — you shouldn’t be as nervous as you are now.

“Yeah…” you waver.

Eddie peeks at you over his shoulder for a moment before turning to face you fully. His pink lips purse and a low whistle sounds between them. “Damn,” he mumbles.

You fight back a smile and look away from him, wringing your anxious hands into a knot. “Hush…”

“You’re a total smokeshow, baby.”

“Eddie!”

“Don’t know why you wanna hide from me so bad…” he teases lowly, gravitating towards you without thinking. His hands are warm and wide as they smooth over your sides. His palms curl around your lower back and idle there, fingers lingering just above your ass. “All I wanna do is look at you, and you won’t even let me…” he jokes, mostly serious, but with a playful pout on his lips.

Your arms cross between your bodies. You glare up at him with pretty doe eyes that swim with all the love you have for him. You couldn’t pretend to be annoyed if you tried. “It’s ‘cause you’re so nice…”

His brows raise and disappear behind his fluffy bangs. “You’re shy because I think you’re hot?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “It’s weird.”

“Maybe,” Eddie laughs. He figures it’s on-brand enough for him, as the resident freak and all. But loving you has never felt unnatural or strange. It feels normal, like an instinct he’s always had, something he’s always been destined to do. So he just tilts his pretty head and smiles sweetly down at you. “Can’t help it, though.”

[bubsmiraculousau]

These r my first brainstorm pages for the ot5 civillian miraculous designs! Some of their styles I imagine would shift throughout the hypothetical series, esp Adrien and Marinette.

Adrien dresses like a little businessman, preppy in the most direct sense of the word, was taught to dress well to leave a good impression. Gabriel believes that every man should just wear a suit all the time, so Adrien's sweaters and khakis are a compromise. He basically only wears neutrals.

Marinette dresses in mainly pink, but dabbles in other colors as well. I think she would always have some kind of comfortable fabric on, and customizes her clothing with embroidery and things like that. I think she also just likes all the rainbow colors too.

Chloe is a true y2k girlie, Megan Fox's character's outfits from confessions of a teenage drama queen is her vibe. Blue, yellow, brown/beige, b&w, are her main look.

Ngl I have no idea what to do with Nino he just dresses like a guy. I think he's the most comfortable in looser clothing. I try to incorporate green into his outfits to tie into the turtle miraculous and him being friends with Adrien. His in-show design literally has like every color in it probably to tie all the characters into each other but it kills me to draw that lol. I'm much better with designing women's clothes...

Alya has tumblr girl style. She loves a black graphic tee and takes black and white pictures of her converse. She basically dresses like the girls I thought were so cool in middle school. Like c'mon she has a blog and Balayage hair, what other style would she be? (Also random fact but when I heard of 'twee' style I thought it just meant all Tumblr girl style not just the peter pan collar stuff lol) I think people call it Tumblr grunge as well? idk

I have a different updated lineup of the civilian classmates and I might make individual posts describing their vibe, background, inspiration, and style because fashion is very important w my characters lol. xx

[natalievoncatte]

Lena felt something crumble inside her. Kara was sitting in the Tower, head bowed and arms resting on her thighs, staring at her own hands. Her cape lay unclasped and thrown haphazardly over the back of the couch, and it was covered in scorch marks like the rest of her. Her new sleeveless suit revealed bruises running up and down her arms, already fading to a sicky yellow.

Alex let out a low sigh of relief as she removed the bomb collar from Lena’s neck and gently placed it in a sealed container, which J’onn immediately took and flew directly out of the tower. When he returned he said, gravely, “Kara. You can let go now.”

Lena looked away from the gruesome sight as Kara released the contents of her hands and let out a choking sob.

“He made me. He made me.”

Alex took the… the…

Well. They called it a dead man’s switch for a reason.

There was a heavy pause.

“Give me the room,” said Lena.

“Lena,” Alex admonished, “we need to get you cleaned up, make sure you’re okay, that the gas didn’t-“

“Please?”

Lena looked at her with pleading eyes and Alex relented at once, brushing at her own, swiping back angry tears. Lena knew what would happen: Alex would pummel the hell out of a heavy bag and then go home to Kelly.

Kara would have to bear this herself.

Alex put a hand on Nia’s shoulder and motion for J’onn to join her and left Lena with Kara.

Lena stood and crossed the room to the sink, finding the biggest bowl she could and a wash cloth. Taking it, she knelt in front of Kara and very gently took her right hand and began washing away the blood.

Kara said nothing. The water soon turned pink, flicked with bits of blood too dry to dilute. It took a lot of effort to get all of it off, especially clingy bits in the creases of her palms and knuckles.

Kara stared at her clean hands.

“It shouldn’t be that easy,” Kara rasped. “I took a man’s life tonight.”

Lena shifted to sit on the floor in front of her and brushed back her hair, running her hand gently over the fuzzy side that Kara had recently buzzed. She tucked the longer locks on the other side back and behind her ear.

“Look at me.”

Kara met her gaze, eyes wet with tears.

“You did what you had to do.”

“How could he be so stupid?” Kara whimpered. “I couldn’t do the things he was demanding. I couldn’t hurt people for him.”

“I know.”

Kara fell back against the sofa and pounded her thigh her with her fist, and Lena felt the impact in her chest. Kara winced and looked down at her.

Lena lifted herself up and sat down beside Kara.

“I know what this feels like.”

There was a brief flash of confusion on Kara’s face, then… “Lex.”

Lena nodded. “I killed my brother to protect you, and I’d do it again.”

“I should have found another way,” Kara whispered. “I’m always supposed to find another way. I just… I just snapped. When he said he’d let go and set off the bomb on your neck, I didn’t even think, I just…”

She looked down at her hands.

“I’m a killer.”

Lena took Kara’s hand in both of hers and lifted it, always amazed how the strongest being in the solar system just… let her. She brought Kara’s palm to her cheek and rested against it, letting Kara’s warm fingers curl tenderly against her skin.

“Maybe. I won’t tell you that you’re not, but that’s not all you are. You’ve given so much, sacrificed so much, endured so much pain, and you’ve always been so wise and kind with your power. Lots of people would have gone down a darker path with the gifts that you have. I would have.”

“You never went down the path. You came back. You came back to me.”

“I always will.”

Kara’s face fell and the crying began in earnest. Lena pulled her in and carded through her hair with her fingers and whisper-sang a half remembered Gaelic lullaby from her mother while Kara let it out.

“I can’t live without you,” Kara admitted. “I tried it once and it was hell.”

“I know exactly what you mean.”

“Lena, I lo-“

“Shhhh,” Lena whispered. “I know, darling. I know you do, and I do too… but don’t say it now. Not like this, not because of this, not now. Wait for a happy time. Maybe tomorrow, maybe the day after, when we wake up.”

“I’ve wanted to for so long, but I was so scared.”

“I know, I know, Kara. It’ll be alright. Everything will be alright and you can do it right, when we’re both ready.”

“Okay,” Kara choked out, “but I can’t wait so long. I waited too long already and I want to keep you forever.”

Lena smiled, pressing her cheek to the crown of Kara’s head.

“Well, when you get around to asking me I’m sure I’ll say yes.”

That worked, it seemed to calm her. It took a while before the hitching stopped and Kara could sit up and walk to drink a glass of water, before the layers and layers of armor she’d built up around her fragile soul were starting to raise themselves again.

She made good on her promise, though, pressing a ting Kryptonian phrase into Lena’s ear as they lay curled in a mound of comforters and blankets in the sun in Kara’s loft.

[threadbearsweater]

one warm day is all i really need | arthur morgan

When you find yourself taken in by a gang of outlaws, the last thing you expect is to grow sweet on one of them- and have the feelings reciprocated. Arthur Morgan doesn't have time for romantic nonsense, but a few memebers of the gang want to make sure that he gets to indulge in his obvious affection toward you. Tags: 3.9k words, an unlikely romance, meddling gang members (with the purest of intentions, one might suppose); female reader, alcohol use, smoking, emotional smut. A repost from a (regretfully) deactivated blog.

Arthur first notices your eyes on him one evening around the campfire at Shady Belle. He won’t accuse you of staring– Lord knows he’s been known to look at you with the same foolish grin you’re wearing now– but he tips his hat to acknowledge you. The heat in your cheeks is suddenly warmer than what the fire has already provided; your grin only grows until your teeth are showing, and you duck your head into your shoulder to hide. Arthur takes a long swig from his whiskey bottle and grimaces as it goes down. He hasn't had a drop of anything in days, and the burn takes a little while to grow numb to now.

“Think she's sweet on you, Morgan,” Sean says in his Irish lilt, giving Arthur an elbow in the ribs.

“Naw, she's lookin’ at you,” Arthur deflects, though he hopes he's wrong. He thinks he knows.

“She told me last week to keep my eyes on my own work,” Sean continues. “I really don't think it's me she wants, Arthur.”

You turn to whisper something to Sadie, who laughs out loud with her face tilted toward the stars. You dare a glance back at Arthur, who is, in fact, looking at you.

Maybe there's some truth to what Mary Beth told you yesterday.

“Arthur's been awful quiet lately.”

The sun shines through the trees and dapples the table where you're seated with bright spots of pale yellow. It's your third round of dominoes with Mary-Beth, and she's whooping your ass, as usual. You don't know how she does it, but each game you play, you're a little more privy to her prowess.

“You think so? I don't know him as well as you.” You hope it isn't obvious that your heart started beating a little faster at the mention of his name. It leaves you breathless.

“Oh yeah,” Mary-Beth continues. “He's been scratchin’ away in that journal of his a lot more, too.” She leans closer, conspiratorial, her eyes twinkling with the gossip she's about to share. “Karen said he went to town twice last week to have a hot bath. If you knew Arthur like I know Arthur, why…you'd know that's highly out of character for him.”

“But you said he'd been quiet. Is that unusual for him, too?”

She hums and purses her lips. “Well you see, Arthur isn't usually a man of many words on a good day. But it's been real bad lately. He don't even give John a hard time like usual.”

You ponder the dominoes for a moment and then make your move. It doesn't earn you any points, but at least you didn't have to draw. “What do you think the problem is?” you ask, nonchalant as possible.

Mary-Beth smiles. Big and bright and sparkling. “Oh, it's not a problem at all.” She lowers her voice and cups her hand to her mouth. “Arthur's in love.”

You gasp, then giggle behind your hand, and Mary-Beth follows suit. Hosea looks on and shakes his head, so you quiet down, reaching across to grab Mary-Beth's hands. “Who do you think it is?”

Her cheeks are tinted pink, and she looks around to make sure there aren't any ears to hear. Word travels fast around camp if one isn't prudent. “I think it's you.”

A thunderstorm rips through Shady Belle a little over a week later. Your little tent that you share with Sadie is ripped straight off its supports in a terrible gust of wind, and you and the others hightail it inside the house to take cover just as it begins to hail. There's quite a ruckus as everyone huddles inside, windblown and rain-soaked. A few of the men hold up lanterns to illuminate the darkness while you watch the lightning and feel the thunder shake the old bones of the house.

“Everyone just calm down,” Dutch calls, descending the stairs, wearing some ridiculous robe with his arms spread wide. “Are we really gonna let a little old thunderstorm keep us from getting a good night's sleep?”

“Says the man with a bed inside the house,” Arthur bites, rounding the corner from what used to be the kitchen, holding a lantern up high in front of him. “Dutch, you better allow these ladies to take cover in here for tonight, or I'll–”

“Or you'll what, Mister Morgan? Pray tell, what kind of man do you take me for?” Dutch's eyes are fiery as he stares Arthur down; a display of dominance. A veritable cockfight.

Arthur's jaw twitches, but he doesn't back down. “The kind of man I should hope would have some goddamn respect for his family.”

There's a tense moment or two where everyone is quiet, then Dutch relents. “Fine, fine! But I expect everyone out there pitching in to clean up in the morning.” He points at Arthur and raises his voice again. “That includes the other man with a bed inside the house,” he sneers.

Arthur shakes his head, then looks away only to catch sight of you, shivering in your wet undergarments, huddled close to Mary-Beth for what little warmth the two of you can share. For a minute, he forgets to breathe, then composes himself enough to cross the room.

“Come on in here. Get yourself warm and dry by the fire.” His hand on your elbow is rough but warm as he leads you toward the fireplace. You nod and look back at Mary-Beth, who shoos you away with a flick of her wrist and a wink; you notice that her teeth are chattering. Despite the humidity that hangs heavy in the air, the temperature has turned chilly with the storm.

Arms crossed over your bosom to preserve any shred of modesty you might have left, you allow yourself to be led away by Arthur. Dutch and some of the others head upstairs while Charles and Javier keep watch from the front porch.

“You alright?” Arthur asks. He covers your shoulders with one of his heavy winter coats, and you pull it around you, grateful for the weight and warmth of it. Another clap of thunder shakes the house and you jump. Arthur chuckles.

“You laughin’ at me?” you quip, placing your palms flat in the direction of the fireplace. You don't even bother to hide the grin you feel curling on your lips.

“No madam, I am not,” Arthur says earnestly, taking a seat beside you on the old wooden crate he's set up as a makeshift bench.

“Then just what do you find so funny, Mister Morgan?”

He scratches the back of his neck, looking into the flames. “Aw, I dunno. I'm sorry. It's just that you're…”

You bump him with your hip, unable to stop the giggles that bubble up from your chest. “I'm what?” you pry.

There's a clatter of something falling on the front porch, and Arthur uses it as a good excuse to get out of this hole he's dug for himself. “I better go see what's going on out there. Charles might need my help.”

“I'm what, Arthur?!” you call, to no avail. He's gone before he can see the proverbial hearts in your eyes.

The saloon in Rhodes is a little nicer than the ones you visited in Valentine, though it's a far cry from the ones you used to frequent in Saint Denis. Still, when Sadie and the other girls decide that it's high time you have a little fun in town, you throw on your best dress and let Karen curl your hair and even apply a little of the makeup you snagged from a homestead up north. For the first time in months, you feel like a proper woman. There isn't time to be melancholy about the past, though, when the boys start whistling and cat-calling upon the sight of you and the other girls.

“Aw, knock it off!” Sadie hollers. She's decided to dress up a little tonight, too, much to everyone's surprise. But she hikes up her skirts to hop into the wagon, calling for the rest of you all to hurry it up. “I've got a bottle of rum with my name on it that's waiting for me to come drink her all down!”

You catch the sunset on the way to town. It's dazzling over the meadows, all golden light and warm, blazing oranges and reds that settle into a brilliant pink by the time your reach the main road into Rhodes. You wish you could see Arthur's eyes, but he's got a handle on the reins next to Charles in the front of the wagon. You've seen him watching the sunset before; he always looks so peaceful those evenings at camp, and you often wonder what he thinks about in those few minutes before the horizon is painted in pastel hues.

Karen starts singing a song that everyone eventually joins, and before you know it, you're pulling up in front of the Rhodes Parlour House. You can already hear the piano and a few voices from outside; the sound of it stirs something in your soul that makes you long for the familiarity of home, but you quickly shove it aside in favor of the company of your new family.

“Madam.” Arthur's voice brings you out of your thoughts and back into the present, where he waits at the back of the wagon with his hand extended to you. You beam at him, and he feels dizzy. And when your soft hand fits into his, he straightens his knees so they don't buckle and betray him.

“Why, thank you, kind sir,” you say, lifting the hem of your skirts to step out onto the dirt road.

Arthur leans in, dangerously close to your ear. You can smell the whisky and cigarettes on his breath, along with the faint tang of gunpowder and hair pomade. “You sure do look nice in that dress.”

You demure and fan yourself with your hand. “Just how much have you had to drink already tonight?” you giggle.

“Ahh, just a little nip to take the edge off.”

“Mm-hm. Sure, Arthur. Whatever you say.”

The night starts off relatively calm, as most nights do. You and the other girls find an empty table to sit and pick up on the town gossip, and the men start a hand of poker. It grows loud and crowded sometime around midnight, and it's hard to have a conversation without shouting over the din of voices, the clink of glass bottles, and the slow drag ragtime music from the piano. The ambiance is charming and lighthearted, and there are even a few couples drunkenly dancing on the porch.

You push back in your chair and find that when you stand, you're a little more wobbly than you thought you would be. The alcohol has loosened you more than you realize, and you grip the table for support until you feel a firm arm around your waist. “Whoa there.”

It's Arthur, who has won the last round of poker and has come to check in on you and the other ladies. You're pulled tight against his chest for one fleeting moment, and you look up into his eyes. He, too, seems drunk, with his eyes gleaming and drooping at the corners, his smile easy and his cheeks flushed.

“My knight in shining armor,” you slur, pretending to faint in his embrace. He only pulls you tighter against him, both of his broad hands splayed across your back. You laugh, and he smiles.

“You weren't getting another drink, were ya?” he questions with a raise of his brow.

“‘m thirsty,” you whine, lifting your empty glass entirely too close to his face. It knocks against his nose, which sends you into another fit of laughter.

Arthur takes your wrist– gentle but firm– and lowers the glass away. “Think you need to drink something that's not whiskey,” he drawls. You can't help but watch the way his lips form around the words; the slip of his tongue between his teeth, the way his mouth turns up into the hint of a smile when you pout. Before you can think too long and hard about it, you lunge forward and kiss him. Hard and clumsy and impulsive. You don't give him time to react. You're far too involved in the kiss to notice, but the girls at the table behind you have all gone silent. Arthur slides his hand along the side of your face and presses his fingers upon the nape of your neck, kissing you back like he really means it. (He really does.)

You pull back suddenly, breathless and reeling, swiping the back of your hand over your mouth. You're still held firm in his embrace, but the playfulness in his gaze has been replaced with an intensity that makes your knees weak all over again.

“What'd ya do that for?” he asks.

“Could ask you the same thing.”

“Well, you started it.”

“And you finished it.”

“Oh, I ain't finished with you, yet.”

“That a promise or a threat?” Your pulse is thumping wildly in your ears.

“Ya know, they got rooms upstairs for that!” Sadie shouts. There's a ripple of laughter across the table. Arthur's hand on your cheek feels like a brand, his arm about your waist an anchor. The rest of the room comes back to you in a woozy blur, and you look around, a little lovestruck and a whole lot drunk. Arthur's lips at your temple make your eyes flutter shut, and the room fades to black as tIt'weight of you slumps against him. He staggers only slightly, but holds you firm, chuckling softly.

“It's a promise,” he whispers.

You come to some hours later. Your mouth is dry as the desert, your head feels like lead, your skin broken out in a cold, uncomfortable sweat. At some point, it seems you were covered with a downy soft blanket, and the pillow at your head is much more fluffy than the makeshift one you made out of a bedroll at camp. At first, you think you're dreaming. Then, you wonder very briefly if you're back at your childhood home in Saint Denis. You almost call out to your mother when you hear a soft snore from the other side of your bed.

The room spins when you turn your head, and you rub your eyes until Arthur comes into focus. He's sprawled in an armchair a few feet away. His arms are crossed over his chest while his chin is tucked into his chest. Off to the side, you spy his boots; his big toe pokes through a hole in his sock and you smile at how vulnerable he looks.

“Arthur,” you whisper, shifting slightly as you pull the blanket up around your chin.

He grunts and lifts his head slowly. He frowns a little at first, but when he focuses on you lying there, so close he could reach out and kiss you again like he did last night, there's a slow, easy smile that spreads across his face.

“Hey there, party girl. You feeling alright?”

You could kick yourself for all the giggling you've done around him lately, but you can't help it. He brings out something giddy and downright foolish inside you, so you toss a pillow at him and bury your face in the sheets.

“Aw, come on now. I'm just messin’ with ya.” He leans forward and rubs your head affectionately. “I'd say you were feeling pretty good last night.”

It's in that moment a white-hot jolt of sheer panic shoots down your spine. Quickly, you check to make sure you're still wearing clothes. Aside from your breasts being a little lopsided in the confines of your bodice, you're relieved to find that your dress is still intact and– more importantly– on your body. You dare another peek at Arthur and notice that his shirt is unbuttoned down to the middle of his chest and he's discarded his vest somewhere, but he, too, is fully clothed. Thank the good Lord above.

You must've said that last part aloud, because Arthur laughs. “Don't worry, nothing happened. Though it weren't for lack of tryin’ on your part,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. “Thought I was gonna have to lock you in here like some feral cat till you settled down.”

Oh. Oh Lord. You try to recall what happened that led you to this room, but all that comes to mind is a lot of loud conversation, some dancing, a spilled drink across Sadie's lap, and Arthur's hand on the side of your cheek. “Oh…”

Now you remember it in vivid detail.

“Didn't know you cared for me like that,” he says. It's earnest and tender, a few shades less intense than the kiss you now recall, the one where it felt like he wanted to eat you alive right there in the middle of the saloon. Now, he thumbs your cheek and looks at you so fondly you swear your heart jumps right up in your throat. “I mean, I'd been hoping. Wasn't sure you was looking for a romance.” He huffs a short sigh, frustrated with himself. “Aw, hell, what am I saying? ‘Course you weren't. You're just looking to survive, just like the rest of us, and here I–”

“Shut up,” you say, taking hold of his hand and tugging him closer. He resists until you pull even harder, watching the fire in your eyes blaze to life. “You talk too much, Yankee.”

“I ain't no damn–”

“Kiss me.”

He's over you in an instant; you're pressed flat against the bed, completely and totally at his mercy. This kiss feels different than the drunken one last night. It's sober and honest, if not a little hesitant, as if he's holding himself back from devouring you wholly. The warmth of his body against yours takes your breath away. Or maybe it's the way his tongue laves heavy into your mouth, unashamed of how badly he craves the taste of you. You grip his hair at the roots and tug him down to kiss him harder, lifting your upper body to meet him until he presses down, his chest flush with yours.

Things get heated quickly.

His mouth moves across your cheek, down your neck, and he groans against your skin, rutting his cock against your thigh. You fleetingly wish that he had managed to get you out of that dress before he presumably tucked you into bed and passed out in that chair, because there’s a whole lot of fabric between you and him that really pisses you off right now. Arthur must feel much the same, because he’s bunching your skirts up past your knees while you’re fumbling with his belt buckle, desperate to feel him against you, inside you. It’s clumsy and crazed, rushed and rough, but you manage somehow to shuck off every last bit of your clothes and his until you’re breathless and so, so eager beneath him.

“Need you now,” you whine. You feel insane. Dizzy and dehydrated, impossibly turned on, every nerve ending on fire when his callused hands grip the fat of your thighs and open you to him.

“Greedy little thing, ain’t ya?” One of his hands slips between your legs to find you wet and swollen. He presses the pad of his thumb against your clit and pushes a finger inside you; the sound you make nearly has him finishing there on the sheets, so he wastes no time in getting himself as close to you as humanly possible.

“Never wanted something so bad,” he murmurs into the dip of your shoulder. He wants all of you– all at once– wants to fuse his hands against your skin and sink himself into you so deep that it would be impossible to tell where he ends and you begin. The heat from his body takes away what little breath you have left, his mouth on each part of your body building the buzz in your chest until you feel like you might just burst open. You grabbed at each other like it was the first and last time you might have this opportunity, as if you wanted more than what the other of you was able to give.

Considering the kind of life you’ve both led so far, it’s a good possibility that you might never get to do this again.

“Give it to me,” you plead, opening yourself further to him, fingers wrapped firm around the base of his cock. “Please.”

Arthur Morgan is a man of incredible strength and self restraint, except when it comes to a woman like you.

There’s nothing gentle about the way he takes you. It’s primal, sweaty, filthy, rough. Arthur pushes as far inside you as he can go, then pushes further when you beg for more. He cups your knees with slick palms and presses you open as far as you can bend; you tug roughly at his hair and bite down on his shoulder when the pleasure builds to a blinding ferocity. The wooden bedframe knocks angrily against the wall with each thrust, but you can’t bring yourself to care if anyone hears. You can’t focus on anything beyond the feeling of him filling you with every stroke of his cock, of the taut, corded muscle in his back and shoulders as you grapple to hang on as tight as you can. Your orgasm hits your hard and fast, and he encourages you through it, taking his time to give you long, controlled strokes. It’s as pleasurable for him as it is for you. “‘Atta girl,” he rasps, lips moving against your ear. Your hand flies to your mouth to muffle your cries, but he pulls it away and threads his fingers with yours, pressing it onto the pillow. “I wanna hear it.”

Your moans are what drive him over the edge.

He buries his face against the side of your neck, panting heavily as he comes, driving into you so hard that you can almost feel the mattress beneath you begin to sag under the weight. You cradle his head in your hands and link your legs around his waist, boneless and languid in the aftermath of your own pleasure. When he moves, you move with him, riding out the waves together until you’re both too tired to move another muscle.

Neither of you speak for a while. He lies on his back with an arm around your shoulders while you curl against him, tuned into his heartbeat and swirling little patterns into the hair on his chest. It’s comforting to feel him next to you, to watch his chest rise and fall as he steadies his breathing, to soak up the warmth of his skin against yours.

You’re the first to break the silence. “Did everyone else go back to camp last night?”

Arthur nods slowly. “Something tells me they planned all this.”

“Planned it? You mean…” You lift your arm slowly and flick your wrist to acknowledge the room you’re laying in. “This?” You lift your chin and grin at him. “Or getting us together?”

“Room was paid for before I even had a chance to ask if they had one,” he explains. “Think it was Mrs. Adler.”

You vaguely recall her shouting something about a room after you kissed Arthur last night, and you shake your head. “You complaining?”

He turns to his side, draping an arm across your hip. “Me? Never.” You’re suddenly pressed beneath him once again; from the looks of it, you won’t be getting out of this bed anytime soon. “Specially when I’ve got you here to help me keep warm.”

[zombyjuice]

nights like this —- jj maybank. 🐶🪽🌸☀️

when jj has a crush on a kook but not just any kook.

season one jj i miss you. smut smut smut smut.

i haven’t written in so long wth !

playlist

—————————————————————————

“Mom! That's not fair; Kie gets to stay up all night with those boys, but I can’t have a simple sleepover with my friend." You huff, closing the refrigerator door. "Y/N I will figure that out later. That has nothing to do with this; remember you're grounded." You roll your eyes. “Oh my gosh, that’s ridiculous mom, so what? I brought in a stray cat...”

“and dog, bird, oh yeah, and a SPIDER too, you know I’m scared of those,” she frowns and lowers her tone at the end; you stifle a laugh. “Also that piercing.” Your smile fades away quickly. “It’s a nose piercing! Be glad I didn’t get the lip ... yet. Your mom coughs on her water a bit and slaps your head. “Go. Go!” 

“gladly” throwing your hands in the air and rushing to leave the house bumping into no other than kiera “your introublee” you push past her and she huffs getting prepared for her mothers nagging voice.

You and Kie are twins yet almost nothing alike. Kie is the “stronger one.” She’s louder and more outspoken than you, more chaotic, and not as friendly but caring and kind just like you. You’ve always been a calm, peaceful, gentle soul, bubbly and sweet, feeling everything to the core and loving deeply and strongly, quick to stand up for your friend and not yourself, but as you grow, you find your voice more and more. You both have a little bit of each other.

jj had a thing for kie, but it was more like he had a thing for a lot of girls and especially you, well, mostly you. He tried not to since, unlike Kie, you hung out with the Kooks, and to them, it seemed like the kook year Kie experienced, you got stuck in, and, well, we know how JJ feels about the Kooks, but gosh … he couldn’t help it.

He noticed things about you that typically other people would point out as weird, at least to the people of Outer Banks, but JJ would say it’s different, a breath of fresh air even. You had pretty, dyed, curly hair and somewhat fair skin that’s always sun-kissed and the prettiest makeup that made your puppy eyes pop, and he noticed the way each piece of jewelry or how you did your makeup was an expression of you on the inside and matched or complimented you perfectly, almost like everything you wore was meant and made particularly for you; he noticed how everything depicted a phase in your life, whether good or bad, and he noticed you even had a palette: teals, greens, yellows, and what suited you the most, pink. You had different pieces of clothes; he could tell you didn’t shop where the rest of the kooks shopped, and he loved your staple piece, your short shorts, and everything hugged you so well. to say the least, he noticed things he had never noticed in anybody. He became so detail-oriented, and he couldn’t understand why he noticed everything about your beautiful, soft soul. 

“Oh, J, hey, you smile softly, waving at no other than JJ. “Hey, princess, still too cool for us?” He smiles smugly, taking his hat off. “Pft, shut up. What are you doing here?” You eye him while you continue to walk, him following closely behind. “Yeah, you know, I just came to drop off your sister, fulfilling my duties as soon-to-be boyfriend.” You raise your eyebrow at this and stop in your tracks, causing him to bump into you as well. “Damn—” 

“You? and Kiara? I thought she had, like, a thing for John B." You say, questioning his intentions, “Yeah, maybe. I dunno... Why do you care?" He rolls his eyes as if he won an argument you guys aren't even having; you chuckle and continue to walk with him at your side. “I don’t care! I’m just asking a question on the topic; I can’t ask a question? about my sister?” You nudge at his shoulder, and he smirks, staring down at you. “Yeah, whatever, princess.”

“so where are we going?” “i’m going away from you asshole.”

—-

“Hey Dad, hey Mom, where’s Kie?” You sigh, putting everything on the counters and going to give them kisses on the cheek. “In her room getting ready… She’s punished, and she has to bring you to hang out with those pogues.” You cringe. “Wow, what a great punishment! and Pogue's mom, really, what a dumb name. That’s just so dumb it makes me mad." You say quickly, making your mom chuckle, “Yeah, yeah.” 

You didn't mind this happening more often, and you're open to hanging out with anybody you like, Kie's friends, especially JJ. It's like you're a part of them but just not all the way, not willing to give up your friendships with certain people over a dumb name.

You make your way up the stairs and into your room, making sure to shout a quick “Hurry up!” to Kie in the process. In your room, you try and get yourself a little dolled up. You don’t want to admit it, but it’s for JJ. You wanted weird things when it came to him, like you wanted him to think you’re pretty or… take off your clothes, but that’s a different story. 

You found everything JJ did so interesting, and you always wanted to get to know him more, but more than ever, you felt connected with him, like he was a part of you. When you saw him, your heart softened, and you wanted to just kiss all his worries away. You could tell he was sad, but he brought light to whatever darkness he was around, just like you. 

You giggle thinking about his goofy antics and fix up your makeup and hair. putting it up and continuing everything else you put on a cute but comfy outfit with your favorite low-rise Converse with pink laces and spraying a perfume that smells almost of laundry detergent, your favorite smell.

and you leave and wait for Kie on the porch. As the door flung open, you start walking towards your bike and Kie in front of you. “Hey, uh, where are we going anyway?” and Kie looking strangely tense. smirks, “Keege time, baby.” She slaps on the bike and hops on.

You smile a bit and shrug. What happens, happens.

—-

You already know the drama that’s about to unfold, and maybe, just maybe, you're secretly excited. especially as a kook hanging out with her kook sister who’s hanging out with her Pogue friends.

“Okay, here we are; gimme your bike.” You gladly hand it over to her and start your walk to everyone. 

“Hey, is that Y/N?” John B ran up to you. “Wassup? Haven’t seen you in a while, dude. Come help; we’re just starting everything. C’mon, Kie!” 

You look behind him to see Pope waving and JJ stupidly saluting you; you try and hide your smile, making your way towards them. “Hey, Pope,” you say softly, giving him a hug. “Hi, Y/N, I’ve missed doing your work in class. You know you could really—” JJ lets out a loud sigh and throws his hat at Pope's head. “Dude! Leave me alone!” He grabs at his hat and throws it back, and you giggle. “Hi, asshole.” JJ looks up at you and puts his hat back on and stands up from the huge branch. “What’s up, princess?” he smiles smugly, shoving his hands into his pocket. “I like this top; he pinches at it, and it slaps back on top of your skin, strangely making you blush and your stomach turn just a bit. You swat his hand away. “I don’t care. "Don't touch me?” you say in a teasing voice; you made him laugh. “Can you shut up? stop talking?” He started down at you and shoved you playfully, letting a giggle out, then a shriek, when he threw you over his shoulder and started running towards the water. “JJ, I’m going to kill you!” 

“Can they stop flirting it’s disgusting.”

—-

As everyone started to pile up, the more looks started to notice you on the other side, including Sarah, who gives you a… strange look. You can tell what she wanted to say: ‘What are you doing there with them?’ but you ignore it, continuing to talk with Pope about stupid stuff. “Okay, so why did NASA switch from the water to the shitty space dude? There are aliens down there.” “Define an alien right now, Y/n.” 

—-

It got darker, and more people came and went, and you could sense something was about to go down with the way Topper came up to JJ. You turn around to say goodbye to some guest. You turn around again, and boom! Topper and JJ are pushing each other around, John B trying to get in the middle. “Shit... idiot.” 

You quickly stand up and rush to the area. John B. now taking a blow from Topper and another guy trying to shove JJ, “Hey… hey! Get off him! J, come on, stop it!” You grab him by the shoulder, and it took him a second, but he listens. Surprisingly, you dust him off and look up at him. worry and concern all over your face, “Don’t do that, JJ; you can get hurt or hurt someone else.” If it weren’t for the fight happening just right next to you, JJ would want to kiss you, but he had to ignore the butterflies and your loving look, and he had to watch John B and Topper fight, ready at any moment to jump in. You turn your attention to Sarah, who’s screaming her boyfriend's name, and it all happened so fast. JJ is over Topper with a gun to his head; your eyes widen. “how the hell does he have that?” “JJ, stop it!” “Can you check your psycho friend?” Sarah shouts at Kie, who’s now next to you, “Can you check your psycho boyfriend?” You shout back, “Yeah, he tried to drown him!” Kie screams, “JJ, let go of the gun!” 

—-

“So you mean to tell me you found a crash. went onto it. found a key. decides, "Hey, let us go to this random hotel the day after a hurricane," finds money! a gun! then finds out it is now a part of an open investigation! your dirty, sticky fingerprints all over the place! and THEN you bring out that same gun! around a whole bunch of kooks, JJ, are you kidding me? How dumb can you be?" You shove your face into your hands. "I really don't feel like being lectured right now. He was going to drown him, Y/N/N. What else could I have done?" You look at him with a straight face. “Literally anything else.” 

“Whatever, dude! It happened already. What do you want me to do? Hold on. Why do you even give a shit? 

It’s still dark out, and you're outside by the hammock, JJ sitting down on the ground and you standing in front of him. Everyone else went home, and John B is inside.

“I don’t know, JJ, maybe because I care about you.” Your tone softens. “That’s really stupid; you can get in a lot of trouble,” you say, looking down. He stands up and makes his way towards you, feeling the tensions rising already with each step. You look up. “You’re lucky you’re so likable; you would’ve been in juvie by now.” He smiles and looks down at you. “I’m likable?” His tone lowers, and that stupid smirk is on his face, his stare heavy and his pupils blown out. “Well, I’ve got nothing to lose, and you’re a part of this now, so it looks like we’re both going to have to be stupid.” 

“Yeah?” You look up; he couldn’t take those eyes you give him. “Yeahh…” He smirks and runs his hands through his fingers, seemingly getting ready to get serious. “I, uh, I’ve missed you, Y/n like a lot. I missed you coming by my house and, you know, helping me when, you know, my dad... Yeah, when I needed someone the most. no one has ever done that for me, so willingly and i don’t know, im not crazy right, cause man it feels like you barely know me but yet know everything and i just want to-”

And without thinking, you throw your arms around his shoulder and pull him into a soft yet passionate kiss, his arms grabbing at your hips, deepening the kiss, leaving you breathless with every pent-up emotion and tension, all in the kiss.

You pull back for a second, catching your breath, his pretty eyes scanning your face. “You okay?” He asks softly, “Yeah,” you say back, taking a moment, his eyes on yours, and you blush. “I really like you a lot,” his eyes and his heart soften, but there’s this feeling of fear as well. “Me too.” And he quickly puts his lips back on yours; this time the kiss is more rough, leaving you breathless. Grabbing at your thighs, he swiftly lifts you up and carries you toward The Chateau. and straight into John B's spare room, laying you down on the bed, continuing the rough kisses, leaving you a whimpering mess.

“Mm, you're so pretty, princess. He lifts your leg up so it’s hanging by his side, and he slowly grinds his hips into yours; you let out a strangled moan into the kiss. “Shit.” 

The window was slightly open, so the cold breeze of the night filled the room's air, cooling you guys down as JJ filled you up to the brim, the moon's light shining just enough so he could see the pretty faces you make with each slow and long thrust. His head goes down to your neck while he whimpers so softly, fighting back the urge to say the three most beautiful words he could only show it as fucks any bad feeling out of you. "Fuck, baby, look at you." 

"What a mess." His thrusts started to become rougher yet still slow, the sound of his skin slapping yours, wet and juicy. You tried to keep quiet, but he fucked you so good you couldn't even think, "Mmph, I can't take it, JJ, too good." You let out with a squeak as he got rougher and rougher, grabbing at your face and kissing you nice and slow. It all was so passionate your heart fluttered with every movement. You could tell the love and care he put into everything; you felt seen; you felt loved. 

"Yeah, baby? You like that? Come on, be good for me, cum." 

You let out a series of the cutest moans he's ever heard. and he felt you make a mess all over his dick as he fucked into you faster. 

"Good girl, baby, good fucking girl," he moans as he pulls out and cums all over your stomach; you whimper, feeling shy. "Come here; do you want more?" He lifted your jaw up to look up at him and gave you a kiss on the forehead. You nodded, "Yeah? You want more?" His smile widened. "Come here." 

He turns around so you're on your stomach but still somewhat on your side; he wants to be able to hit every spot. "Fuck, you look so good; look at that ass, princess." He slaps your ass, not too hard but enough to get you red; you squeal. "Please, JJ, please," you cry, just dumb on his dick; that's all you want.

He doesn't say anything or warn you; he just starts to fuck into you hard and fast. causing a string of cries and moans, "Fuck, look at you. I love seeing you like this, baby."

It was sloppy, and he was quick, but the tempo slowed down, and he grabbed at your hips, slowly letting you bounce on his pretty dick, watching your ass giggle with each bounce, and slowly letting you start to do it on your own. Watching you struggle turned him on in ways he couldn't explain. "We're going to go all night, princess, all night." 

[artbysconnor]

The DnD party from Wildlife SMP in Episode 1! I just couldn't help trying my hand at these designs, since it combines two of my favorite things currently (Dungeons and Dragons and the Life Series) . Lizzie - Goliath Champion Fighter

BigB - Halfling Circle of Dreams Druid

Ren - Fairy College of Lore Bard

Jimmy - Half-Elf Oath of Redemption (Or Oath of Glory?) Paladin

See below for design notes!

Lizzie:

I knew Lizzie would be a Goliath, and was torn between giving her a martial class or making her a War Cleric. In the end, party composition won out, and she ended up a Champion Fighter, but I kept the half skirt design from her cleric thumbnails and gave her a big ol' mace. Given her pink hair is so iconic I didn't want to go full bald, so I made her hair long along the scalp and tied into two buns and a ponytail (not realistic, but it works in the drawing so I'm sticking with it!). I tried to put butterfly wings in her tattoos by her eyes, and added some flowers to further the fairy vibes on her armor and bring in the light blues from her skin as well.

BigB:

I probably was the least sure about what race and class I wanted to go with for BigB. He fluctuated between a Twilight Cleric and a Druid, and between Gnome, Dwarf, and Halfling. I ended up going with a Halfling to match his easygoing attitude, and leaned into his association with the Pale Garden as perhaps a caretaker and watchful hand over the Fey-like landscape as a Dream Druid. I knew I wanted his staff to reflect that by containing a creaking heart, but I also made his armor woven bark from the exteriors of the black and white trees, with flickers of the orange creaking magic within it, and kept his palette somewhat subdued and faded compared to his more saturated normal palette.

Ren:

Our bard Ren is probably the least detailed here on account of scale, but I put just the same amount of thought into his clothes, too! I wanted to work in little details that make use of materials that would be big for his small racial size as a fairy, such as a button for a poleyn, sewing pins for tuning pegs on his lute, and oversized ribbon ties on his costume. The main costume (a doublet and flouncy pants) is inspired by flashy, slashed Renaissance fashions - I think they suit a bard with a bragadocious energy like Ren. I added a tiny 'wolf pelt' as a cape that was probably a rat or perhaps an ermine, and his sunglasses are cut and polished crystal.

Jimmy:

Jimmy, our normal-sized normal man, was always a paladin in my mind. I wanted to put him in predominantly pretty heavy plate armor, almost like he's trying to protect himself at all costs, and pull in references to canaries and birds with the wing motif and feathered plume on the helmet and cloak clasp (and sword, which is now hidden behind BigB). The gold linear details both reinforce the pieces and provide a flash of yellow in his design to balance the cool blues and silvers, and his unpictured shield in my mind has the image of a great golden bird being pierced through the heart by an arrow or spear of some sort - a tragic house crest that Jimmy seeks to bring to glory.

[calummss]

Eye of the Beholder | Penelope Featherington

masterlist

summary: you had liked penelope for as long as you could remember and watched her change for someone else. at least so you thought

pairing: sapphic! penelope featherington x lesbian! reader

words: 1k

a/n: i <3 penelope sm and needed a wlw imagine so bad. spent 1 hour on this so if it’s bad i apologise but it’s 4am and i couldn’t sleep without finishing this story

“Pen!” You called out from the Featherington’s hallway. “Make haste, we are already late. Madame Delacroix promised us those fabrics from Paris and I am in desperate need of new garments.”

Farleigh raised her eyebrows at you but remained silent as she glanced up the stairs to see if Penelope had heard the lady shout from downstairs; improper manners but being late to an appointment was far more rude.

Penelope eventually made it downstairs wearing her bright yellow dress. Penelope hated the citrus colours her mamma always had her wear. You thought it rather suited her. It was a happy colour indeed and she looked the kindest in them. The details were too much—you agreed with Pen on that but she looked beautiful in any colour. How could she not? She had hair, orange like the sunsets over London; rosy cheeks that matched her fiery hair; when she was embarrassed or vexed, feeling too hot or cold, the apples of her cheeks would shine bright alike. She was so very bewitching but you could never tell her. It was unheard of—a woman in love with another? No one ever even uttered a word of queer affections. So you stayed silent and admired her from afar.

“Ready?”

“Indeed.” She beamed, taking your arms and headed towards the carriage that waited outside.

At the Modiste you eyed a pink fabric that Madame Delacroix had laid out for you. Pink like little piglets and flowers, decorated with the most marvellous design of glitter. Penelope had strayed away from the citrus colour and asked Madame Delacroix for the latest fabric from Paris that weren’t orange or yellow.

“Do you think it wise to alter your mamma’s signature colours?” You asked.

“I simply do not understand her fixation on citrus colours. ‘Happy’ colours indeed but it makes me look washed out. Sick even. It is not for me.”

“I think you look pretty.”

“You might be the only one in Mayfair who thinks so.”

“I doubt so,” you walked towards the mirror to stand opposite Penelope, “but if you must know, those colours Madam Delacroix chose rather suit you quite well..”

“You think so?” You swear you saw a tinkle in her eyes.

“Yes.”

Madame Delacroix promised Penelope six new gowns, one to be done in two days time just in time for Lady Danbury’s first ball of the season. It was both Pen’s and yours third season out with no prospects to show. Either men were too interested in you or not. Believed you to be some kind of dog they could just tell about. And with your conveyed feelings you weren’t even quite sure you wanted a love match with a man. A woman sounded much more pleasing but out of reach. Your family; your papa, mamma and younger sister knew of your unwise choices and savoured the word of acceptance over and over again but that it was a fantasy that could never be real. That you had to marry a man and that it would be easier to forget. Society liked women in brothels that performed together. Was queer love only good for the pleasure of others?

It was even harder knowing that Penelope felt for Colin Bridgerton. He barely eyed her and yet her affections were in a box with a key only he could open. Penelope had grown more silent on the matter and not staring too much out of her window. It was odd for Pen not to stare into Bridgerton house but you couldn’t blame her. A flame only lasted so long.

At the ball you had waited by the food table in hopes of Penelope finding you. The two of you enjoyed being stuck to the wall and observing the ton. The most peculiar things did happen when one thought no one was around to see. You saw the Featherington’s arrive when you noticed that Penelope hadn’t taken her cape off and when the staff helped her remove it, Pen stood on top of the stairs like a fallen angel. The green complimented her well. Well was an understatement. It was unmatched. You weren’t even able to get to Pen as the suitors went up one by one.

When the suitors did eventually leave, Cressida had walked up in the same moment and you saw her purposely edging the heel of her foot into her fabric so that when Pen tried to come towards you, her gown had ripped.

“How mortifying! I am so clumsy. My deepest apologies.” She said, cruelty marking her every word.

Penelope stared at you and without warning rushed outside. You followed her after telling Cressida off, hoping she would one day learn her lesson.

Outside Pen started weeping, a sight you wished you wouldn’t have to witness.

“Pen, I am so sorry.”

“I am the laughing stock of the ton even when I change my entire wardrobe!”

“You didn’t have to change to begin with.”

“All night I waited to be noticed. To be admired but who could I blame?” She let out a concealed sigh with a laugh.

“Pen,” you grabbed her hands, “I saw Colin look at you. I am very sure he was engaged by your charm.”

“Colin?” Pen pulled her hands back. “Who said I’m talking about Colin?”

“Are we not?” You asked carefully.

“No, I am talking about you!” She shouted, her chest rising and falling.

“What?” You mumbled.

“All day,” she breathed out, “I waited to be beholden by you. To see you gaze at me in a way that is considered forbidden but you didn’t.”

“I—“

“Nevermind, I should have never said what I said. I’m-a-fool-and-should’ve-stayed-quiet-and—“

“Shut up.” You muttered before kissing Penelope.

A momentarily calmness came over Penelope as she melted into the kiss. You had grabbed her by the face and pulled her in. Her hands held your wrists and she kissed you back so softly, unsure if the kiss was reality or fantasy.

“You have kissed me,” Pen pulled back.

“Shouldn’t I have?”

“I’m not sure, I—“

“Kiss me again.”

And she did. With the same tenderness as before as you nervously waited for the carriage to arrive and to take you two home.

[breezeflows]

The Long Road (Stanford Pines x Reader)

Chapter 3

WOOP WOOP CHAPTER 3 IS HERE AND BOY IS IT JUICY🫣 On a serious note though, we are finally getting into some of the exciting bits of the story!! I’m hoping by the next chapter we will finally be back in the present. No more sad flashbacks!! Also y’all writing Lizzy is genuinely my favorite. If this fic wasn’t about Ford I’d be wifing her up instead😔 Anyways- here’s chapter 3 you lovely souls!

Themes: Consumption of alcohol (reader lowkey gets wasted), major hangover, bill himself is a warning, suggestiveness kind of?? idk, heartache, lizzy is overall an amazing friend, alllll the angst and feelings, injuries, etc okay enjoy!

The drive to Lizzy’s place is quiet, the steady hum of the car engine and the sound of raindrops against the windshield the only background noise. You sit in the passenger seat, watching the trees pass by through the window as you fiddle with the wedding band around your finger. Lizzy glances at you occasionally, a small frown on her face as she senses your mood. She remains silent for most of the ride, giving you space to process your emotions if need be.

It's not long before the car rolls to a stop in front of her apartment building. You reach around to gather your belongings from the backseat and step out into the rainy afternoon. Lizzy follows suit, bright pink umbrella in hand as she leads you towards the entrance.

Once inside the building, she unlocks the door to her apartment building and the two of you usher inside. The soft yellow light of the living room envelopes you, creating a cozy atmosphere in stark contrast to the gloominess outside.

Lizzy begins to kick off her shoes, hanging her keys as she silently studies your face. She can see the turmoil in your eyes, and the uncertainty you’re trying to hide.

“So,” she says gently, breaking the silence. “You okay?”

Your eyes snap out of the daze they were in as you look over at Lizzy, giving her a weak smile.

“Oh, yeah I guess. Things went a lot better than I thought they would.”

Her expression relaxes at your response, a hint of relief showing on her face.

“That’s good,” she says as she walks over to the couch and plops down on it, gesturing for you to do the same. “I was half-expecting a tearful scene or something, honestly.”

You manage a light chuckle at her remark, plopping down on the couch next to her. You pull your knees to your chest as you grab a blanket draped across the back of it, wrapping it around you.

“Yeah,” you say softly. “Ford took it pretty well, actually. Better than I expected.”

Lizzy raises a brow as she leans against the back cushions, her arms crossing. “Girl, he better take it well after what he said to you. If it had been me, I would’ve dropped his ass on the spot.”

You can’t help but let out a small snort of laughter at her words, a genuine smile tugging at the corners of your lips for the first time in a while. It’s a relief to have Lizzy’s no-nonsense attitude around, her bluntness serving as a much-needed dose of honesty.

“Yeah, yeah Liz, I know.” you admit, the smile still lingering on your face. “I was a little tempted.”

Lizzy grins, satisfied with your response as she reaches over and pats your knee supportively.

“As you should,” she says with a nod. “You don’t deserve treatment like that of any kind, no matter how important his research is to him.”

You frown slightly at her words, opting to pick at the blanket below as a distraction.

“Yeah..”

Lizzy watches your expression carefully, sensing your discomfort. She tilts her head slightly, her gaze searching your face.

“But you don’t quite agree, do you?” she probes gently.

You let out a sigh, unsure how to articulate your feelings as you continue to fiddle with the fabric of the blanket.

“It’s just… complicated Liz,” you say, your voice tinged with guilt and frustration. “Yes, I’m hurt and angry with him, but I also understand where he’s coming from. We’ve been together almost our whole lives, and this is all he has ever worked towards. His research is important to him, and he’s under a lot of pressure.”

Lizzy nods slowly as she listens to your words, her expression a mix of understanding and concern. She reaches over and places a hand on top of yours, stopping your nervous fidgeting.

“I get that Y/N, I do,” she says quietly. “And I’m not saying he’s completely in the wrong. But you shouldn’t have to feel like an afterthought in his life either. That’s not fair to you.”

Your eyes brim with tears at her response, your hand twisting and taking hers tightly.

“I know,” you say, your voice threatening to break. “I just wish we could fix things..”

Lizzy squeezes your hand as your tear-filled eyes meet hers.

“And you will, Y/N. It’ll just take some time.”

A small, wobbly smile forms on your lips at her reassurance, a few tears slipping down your cheeks. The hope that you might be able to fix things with Ford, to find a way to bridge the gap that’s widened between you both, is a small but significant comfort.

“Thank you, Liz,” you murmur, your voice still shaky. “I really hope you’re right.”

Lizzy stands with a smile, her hand pulling away from yours and resting on your shoulder.

“I know I’m right chick, because you two love each other. I’ve seen it.”

Your heart warms at her confidence, a soft smile forming on your lips as you nod.

“Now, how about some pizza?”

The few weeks you spend with Lizzy fly by, days passing in a blur of movies, late-night conversations, and plenty of chocolate induced comfort eating. As the final night of your stay approaches, Lizzy turns to you with a sly grin on her face.

“Y/N, I know you’ve been pretty reclusive the past couple of weeks, but it’s your last night here and I refuse to let you spend it watching crappy movies in my living room.”

She places her hands on her hips and gives you a stern look.

“We’re going out for drinks and that’s final.”

You mope as you walk into her view from the bathroom, your voice annoyed and pleading as you speak.

“Liz, I don’t think this is a good idea. I’m a married woman, and this dress feels less than... modest.”

Lizzy rolls her eyes, her expression clearly unconvinced.

“Girl, you’re not here to pick up someone, you’re here to have fun. And as for the dress I picked out for you, it looks fantastic. Stop overthinking it.”

She gives you a onceover, inspecting your outfit.

“Besides, I’d like to see anyone who tries hitting on you tonight.”

You pout as you watch her, pulling down your dress so it covers your knees.

“I don’t know how Ford would feel about this..”

Lizzy scoffs, shaking her head.

“Ford’s not here, and we both know he should be the last person you’re trying to impress right now. You’re still young, and attractive Y/N, you deserve to enjoy yourself for one night without him on your mind. Not to mention you’ve got to live your life without kids while you can. I know the two of you have talked about it. ”

She grabs the hem of your dress and tugs it back up, flashing you a defiant look.

“And if he has a problem with you having fun, he can talk to me.”

You sigh as you give in, knowing Lizzy wouldn’t be changing her mind about your all’s plans for the night.

“Fine, fine. But we’re not staying out too late, okay?”

Lizzy grins, victorious.

“That’s more like it! And don’t worry, I promise we won’t be out until dawn,” she assures you. “Just a few drinks, maybe a little dancing, and then we’ll come back here. You trust me, right?”

“More than anything Liz.”

And that’s how you find yourself at the bar now, one too many drinks in and slumped against Lizzy’s shoulder.

She laughs at your state, her own cheeks flushed from drinking. She slings an arm around your shoulders, keeping you upright and steady in the booth the two of you occupied.

“Goodness chick, are you already trashed? We’ve barely been here an hour!” she teases, her voice lighthearted and amused.

You grumble something in response, your head spinning from the alcohol in your system. You take another sip from your glass, your tongue loose and inhibitions lowered.

“I blame you,” you slur, pointing an accusatory finger at Lizzy. “You’re a bad influence.”

Lizzy laughs loudly at your accusation, her eyes sparkling. “No one forced you to down those shots, Y/N,” she says, sliding out of the booth with ease. “I’m going to get you some water, alright? You stay right here in your seat.”

You nod lazily at her words, the idea of staying where you are very appealing. You watch groggily as she strides away, her bell bottoms and flare top in tow. She weaves through the crowd to make her way to the counter, your eyes becoming heavy.

Just as you’re starting to doze off from the alcohol, a presence suddenly sits down in the booth across from you. You blink in surprise, your vision clearing slightly as you focus on the newcomer.

Your eyes widen as you recognize your husband’s face, his features strangely serious and intense as he stares back at you. But there’s something off about him… Something otherworldly in his gaze that sends a chill down your spine.

“Well, well,” he says, his voice cool and calculated. “If it isn’t dear Y/N. You look a little worse for wear.”

Your vision blurs as you grip the side of the table, your words slurred as you speak.

“F.. Ford?”

Ford smiles widely, his eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief. The expression is slightly unfamiliar, different from the familiar warmth you’re used to. He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table.

“In the flesh, honey,” he drawls, his voice smooth and flirtatious.

“But I see you’ve had quite a few drinks already. Feeling a little dazed? I wonder how Sixer would feel about me seeing you in this state and not him. Hilarious!”

Your arm trembles weakly as you hold yourself up, vision blurring in and out as you sway slightly in your seat.

“Wha.. What? Why are you.. here..?”

His lips curl into a smug smirk as he eyes your disheveled form, eyes lingering on your exposed skin, clearly enjoying your confusion and intoxication.

“Oh, I had a little chat with Fordsy earlier. He agreed to let me take the reins for a few hours…”

He gives a careless shrug. “You know how he is. All work and no play. Figured I’d take advantage of the situation, hell, I even got him a new tattoo!”

You sit there, dumbfounded and wavering in and out of consciousness as your mind tried to process what Ford was talking about.

Ford’s – or rather, Bill’s – eyes rake over you again, giving an exaggerated sigh before his lips turned into a sly grin.

“You really are a sight for sore eyes, I can see why Sixer married you.”

Your thoughts are still spinning from the alcohol, making it hard to focus on the conversation. You struggle to keep yourself upright, your body feeling heavy and numb.

Bill notices your dazed state, chuckling as he gives a mockingly sympathetic tone.

“You look a little out of it, darling. You really shouldn’t have had so much to drink. Especially considering how easy it’d be to trick you into a deal right now.”

Your mind races with confusion as you stand up weakly, your gut telling you something wasn’t right as you sway back and forth, (Or maybe it was the alcohol) your vision blurring as you scan the place in search of Lizzy.

“Going somewhere? Those human legs of yours don’t look very stable!”

You wobble forward, ignoring his protests as you keep moving.

“You really should listen to me if you want to avoid that nasty bruise tomorrow!”

He calls out, and before you know it you trip, and everything goes black.

Hours later… aka early morning.

You slowly open your eyes, your head pounding and your memories fuzzy. You realize you’re lying on a couch in Lizzy’s apartment, a cool cloth pressed over what you assume to be a large tender bruise on your forehead.

Lizzy is sitting perched on the edge of the coffee table in front of you, her expression a mix of worry and frustration. She notices your eyes flutter open and lets out a relieved sigh.

“Oh thank god,” she mutters. “You had me worried for a second there. I stayed up with you all night waiting for you to wake up.”

“Liz?” you mumble, head pounding. “What the hell happened? My head is killing me..”

Her expression softens at your groggy murmur, her hand reaching out instinctively to brush the hair away from your face.

“Hey, take it easy,” she says, voice low and soothing. “You took a pretty nasty fall back at the bar. Hit your head on a table on the way down.”

Your eyes widen as your memory jogs itself.

“What..? Wait, Ford.. Ford was there?”

Lizzy freezes, her expression guarded at the mention of Ford. She averts her gaze, focusing her attention on the cloth that she’s holding against your forehead.

“Uh, yeah,” she says, her voice hesitant. “He showed up towards the end of the night when I went to grab you a water… You don’t remember?”

You think to yourself for a moment, your memory patchy and vague.

“I mean, I kind of do. But it was weird? Did something happen?”

Lizzy is silent, her gaze still firmly averted from yours. She adjusts the cloth, pressing it against your head with a little more pressure than necessary.

“Nothing happened,” she finally says, her voice tight. “You just had a little too much to drink and tripped, that’s all.”

Her words are curt and dismissive, clearly trying to downplay the situation. But there’s something in her expression, a flicker of unease that betrays her true emotions.

She glances at you briefly, her eyes meeting yours for a split second before moving back to your injury.

“Lizzy..?” you say, silently pleading with her to tell you the full truth.

She exhales slowly, her shoulders slumping in resignation. She knows you’re not going to let this go, and she owes you the truth.

“Alright, fine,” she mutters avoiding your gaze. “When I got back to the booth, it was exactly when you had fell..”

You listen closely, sitting yourself up slightly.

“I had noticed Ford when I got there, sure, but when I went to go help you..”

Lizzy pauses, a frown forming on her face as she continues.

“Ford laughed,” she says as her eyes meet yours, full of concern and.. fear? “And not in a lighthearted way, in a cruel mocking way Y/N..”

Lizzy lowers the cloth from your head, placing it in her lap as you sit there, dumbfounded.

“He was just… enjoying the view, I guess,” She mutters bitterly. “Like you were some kind of joke, I don’t know Y/N. It was fucking weird, really fucking weird. I didn’t like it. He laughed as if he was the one who had done it.”

Lizzy trails off, brows furrowed as she clenches her fists. While you, on the other hand, are utterly speechless.

Your mind reels with this new information, struggling to reconcile the image of Ford – laughing coldly and mockingly at your predicament - with the caring, affectionate husband you’ve known him to be your whole life.

“I… I don’t understand,” you stutter, your voice small and confused.

“He wouldn’t… he wouldn’t do that. Not Ford.”

But as you say those words, you can’t help but recall the other strange things that had happened earlier that night. Ford’s detached demeanor, his unfamiliar choice of words, the way he seemed so cold and calculating. Your heart clenches in your chest at the thought, leaving a sour taste in your mouth. Had something happened over the few weeks you’ve been gone? Did Ford get too deep in his research? Something wasn’t right.

As you try to make sense of the situation, Lizzy watches you with a mix of compassion and concern. She knows this is incredibly tough for you to hear, but she also seems to have her own worries about the situation.

“I don’t know Y/N,” she says quietly, her hands twisting in her lap. “It was just… so not him. I don’t know what the hell happened. But I’ve never seen him act like that before. It’s like he was a different person.”

Her voice trails off, leaving the two of you in silence as you’re both lost in thought.

Eventually, Lizzy breaks the silence, her voice sympathetic as she places a hand on top of yours.

“How about this, you rest up today, and when you’re ready, I’ll take you to the cabin to get some answers from Ford? Only if you feel comfortable, of course.”

You take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions inside of you.

“Alright,” you murmur. “I’m still feeling pretty rough, but I’d like to see him… tonight, if possible.”

Despite your confusion and worry, you know that facing your husband and talking with him is the only way to get answers. The answers that you crave so desperately in hopes that it’ll mend your breaking heart - and marriage.

Lizzy gives you a reassuring nod.

“Of course,” she says gently. “You rest up, and I’ll come get you when it’s time to go.”

She stands up, gently readjusting the cloth on your head.

“Try to get some sleep, okay?”

You nod, laying yourself back down.

You’re going to need it to cross the bridge that awaits you tonight.

READER AND BILL INTERACTION WOOP WOOP!! Also I’m not gonna lie, I feel like I messed up the timeline a little bit but I’m just gonna go for it. Thank you for reading! :)

Tag List: @artistic-gato @karmaisacatluzi @therottenheartofscum @violetvsworld @inquiit @catr4dora

[mrsriddles-blog]

Model | M.S

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo x Fem Reader

WC: 2.2k+

Warnings/Notes: Mild language, smutty scene, pregnancy, fluff, etc.

Summary: Unexpectedly, you hit it off with Matt at your new modeling gig for the Space Camp Lip Balm shoot.

"Alls Nick needs you to do is allow us to get some shots of you applying his lip balms. Try to look relaxed. For a few photos, make direct eye contact with the camera. Get into the vibe and just really try and feel yourself." Lora, your manager, says.

"I can do that." You murmur.

You were dragged off to the bathroom of the little set they've set up as some tropical themed location. You were given a black two piece swimsuit and they styled your hair while doing light makeup.

"What do you think?" The stylist asks her boss, Nick who stood with his brothers.

Nick looks at you and studies you as he realizes how professional you were compared to the other models that came in. The other models were all fan girls of him and his brothers, and to say the least...it was exhausting. Yet, your face was blank, and your eyes guarding any thoughts or worries you may be having.

"I like the black...but I almost think we need a color to make it pop...it needs to be yellow. Do we have a yellow cardigan thing?" Nick asks.

"Um...no." The stylist says slowly.

"Would my yellow button up work?" Matt asks.

"Try that. Go help her get that on and make sure her hair isn't tucked into the shirt." Nick says.

Matt motions you to follow him and you do. You admired his messy hair and his glasses in silence as he opened the door to the bathroom. He starts to unbutton the pastel yellow button up he wore to reveal a white tank top underneath it. He shrugs it off and your eyes follow his tattoos. His eyes follow yours and he smiles slyly.

"Like em'?" He asks as he helps you put your arms into the button up.

"Mhm. They look really cool. Does each one have a different meaning to you?" You ask softly.

He was thrown off by your velvety voice, but he somehow managed to keep his cool as he helps even out the button up and adjust your hair.

"Yeah...have you ever considered getting tattoos?" He asks.

"I want a lot, but it could affect my modeling career. My manager would kill me before I stepped foot into a tattoo shop." You say, a sad little laugh at the end.

"I'm Matt...Matt Sturniolo." He murmurs, his nerves getting the best of him as he prepared for a fan girl moment. 

"It's nice to meet you, Matt. I'm Y/n, but call me Y/n/n. I prefer it." You admit.

You didn't seemed fazed by his name and it was relieving to him. He looks you over slowly and Nick was right about it having to be yellow. He found himself liking the way you looked in his button up shirt. It went to about mid-thigh on you and it overall made you look even cuter to him.

"Well hold on there, Y/n/n...this collar is fucked up." He murmurs as he steps closer to you.

His hands brush down your neck, goosebumps following in their trail as you look up at him through your eyelashes unintentionally. He adjust the collar slowly before his eyes find yours.

"Has anyone told you how pretty you are?" He murmurs.

"I-I...thank you, Matt." You murmur, your cheeks flushing red.

He smirks slyly as he steps back. He has you do a slow turn so that he can make sure it's perfect and that Nick won't rip him a new hole.

"Alright, you look perfect. Almost think a white swimming suit would look good with a pink button up. I got one of those out in the car too." He murmurs.

"Thank fuck. It looks perfect." Nick says.

"What if you have her do a couple photos in a white swim suit with that pink button up I got in the car?" Matt suggests.

"Go grab it. So far we are doing good on time. The other model walked out. She was mad that I asked her to do more shots because she was too busy flirting with Chris." Nick sighs.

While Matt leaves, you were instructed on different poses by Nick. You stand by Nick as you both look over the shots.

"They all look great!" Nick exclaims excitedly.

It was the one shoot that went right. He admired your dedication to your work and the professionalism you had. There was a time and place for fooling around and another for being professional. You, thankfully knew the difference and for that, he was thankful.

"Alright, are you cool with us doing another shoot in a different outfit?" He asks.

"Yeah, of course." You say softly.

"The stylist stepped out for lunch." Laura, Nicks manager says.

"I can get changed and touch up my makeup and hair. It's not a big deal." You say, noticing the stress on Nick's face.

"Are you sure?" He asks.

"Mhm. And you can be honest when I come out and you're not a fan of the makeup or something. I can fix it." You say, trying to lighten the mood by smiling.

"You truly are the saving grace of today. Thank you." Nick says, a wave of relief washing over him.

You walk back to the room and grab your bag, even though typically the outfits are supplied. You had come prepared with options. You grab the white bikini set and put it on. You were trying to clasp the back, but you might've underestimated how small it was. The door opens and you look in the mirror to see Matt.

"Shit, I'm sorry. Nick said you were getting ready, but I assumed you were done changing." Matt says.

"Your okay! Actually, can you help me? I can't get this clasped..." You admit quietly, your cheeks flushing red as you catch him slyly smirk.

He closed the door and sets the button up over a chair. You move your hands to the front of the top to hold it in place as he clasps it.

"Hey, y/n/n?" He murmurs as he watches you adjust your top and bottoms.

"Hm?" You hum softly.

"Could I get your number?" He asks.

"Sure." You say softly with a smile.

He smiles and grabs the pink button up and helps you put it on. You sit and do some touch ups to your makeup before going into the light and neutral shades of eyeshadow and going in with pinks.

You talked with Matt, giving him your number. He made you laugh and smile way more than you had in a long time.

You walk out, the two of you talking about a movie you both had watched recently.

"I love the eyeshadow! It all looks perfect. The eyeshadow look and colors was a good choice." Nick compliments.

Soon you were doing different poses for different shots. You began to feel more yourself as you got further along. It wasn’t long before Nick, his brothers, and you were around the screen and looking at the shots.

The park was becoming more empty, but you continued to enjoy every moment with Matt. You were excited when he texted you and asked to hang out.

"Look, there's a Photo Booth!" Matt says, dragging you towards it.

It was small and had enough for one person to sit at most. Matt sits and pulls you down on his knee. He pays and you both start with a smile, then silly faces, but before you both could do the next pose, he was gently guiding you to look at him.

He leans forward, kissing you softly. You respond softly—almost unsure of what to do. You move your hands to his hair, gently tugging at it as you hold him closer.

You throw your leg over him, straddling him as you sit on top of the growing bulge. He pulls away, kissing down your jaw before kissing down your neck. He reaches out and puts another dollar into the machine.

He nips at your neck and you gasp. He unbuttons your shirt before standing and pinning you against the back of the photo booth wall.

"Y/n/n, we are going to do a little bit of a risky game." He breathes.

"W-What is it?" You whisper.

"When I tell you to put a dollar in, put one in and let it take photos of us. We don't know who's going to walk past this photo booth, but we are going to continue. Okay?" He asks.

"Y-Yeah." She breathes.

He hands her a wad of dollars he had gotten before their outing today. He gets on his knees and puts her legs over his shoulders.

"No panties? Dirty girl." He murmurs as he lifts your skirt.

Your cheeks flush red before you gasp as his mouth attacks your clit. You had done things before and you've been eaten out, poorly, which made you uncomfortable at ever trying it again. But, Matt knew exactly what he was doing. 

"M-Matt!" You moan, arching your back as your hips move to their own accord. 

You whine in frustration as his mouth leaves your clit. He looks up at you, his chin glistening with your juices.

"Put a dollar in, baby." He murmurs.

You lean down a bit and put the dollar in before leaning back against the wall. He grins before he goes back to eating you out. You throw your head back as you bury your hand in his hair, pushing him closer to you. He buries two fingers in you, thrusting them out slowly. You whimper as you grind against his face before coming. You pant as you slump against the wall.

"Fuck baby, you taste like heaven." He murmurs.

He helps you adjust you clothes before picking up all the pictures on the ground. He smiles as he starts to look through them. Your cheeks flush red at them, but you do think it added to the fun.

"Come on. Let's go to Walmart before they close." He murmurs.

"Walmart? Why?" You ask, following behind him.

"We are getting a Polaroid camera because that was fucking fun. Maybe a lock box because no one but you and I will get to see these pictures. You truly are meant to be a model, baby." He murmurs, taking your hand in his.

"Just one more!" Nick sighs.

The model continues to storm away, throwing down a book. Chris bites his lip before looking at his brother.

"I can go...so that they focus, y'know." He mumbles.

"No, no, you're fine." Nick sighs.

"Hey guys!" Matt says, walking hand in hand with you.

"Y/n/n! Thank god you're here!" Nick exclaims.

"What's wrong?" You ask, rubbing your swollen five month belly with your hand.

To say the least, Matt got a bit carried away with the thought of you having his baby. You didn't regret it though.

"Could we do some shots of you?" He asks.

"Um...Nick...I'm five months pregnant." You say confused.

"I do shots of you all the time. I think you look like a fucking goddess pregnant." Matt says with a sly grin.

Both his brothers ew and cover their ears as you smack Matt who was laughing.

"Not appropriate Matthew!" You scold.

"Come on, baby. Do a couple shots for him. What's five months of being pregnant gotta do with some shots?" He murmurs.

"Matt...typically for shots like this, you don't want a pregnant woman. The most shoots I've been able to get my hands on is maternity shoots. You typically want someone...skinner and prettier." You explain.

"Okay, let's start with the fact that you are fucking gorgeous and you are creating a human in there. We need to break the fucking stigma of wanting skinny and blonde models. Go get your ass to that dressing room and find something autumn like and get out here for some shots!" Nick rants.

You look at him, awed with his speech as your eyes tear up. He pales, raising his hands as if to surrender.

"Y/n/n, what's wrong?" He asks.

You let a sob out as Matt goes to grab you, but you pull Nick into a hug.

"That's just the most wonderful thing I've ever heard. You truly are the sweetest and most feminist man I know." You say.

"Aww, Y/n/n, you're okay." He murmurs.

"I know. I know. I'm sorry. The hormones, y'know. Believe it or not, this isn't the first time I've cried today." You say, pulling back to wipe your tears.

"What? You? There's no way." Nick says, although he knew you had probably cried like ten times today as Matt looks off and nods slowly as he remembers this morning.

"Oh yeah. I'm a whole train wreck...gosh, how does Matt even deal with me." You mumble as your eyes well up again.

"Hey, no tears. Matt loves you and you love Matt. And the both of you love this baby. It's okay to be a train wreck. But, you both will look back and laugh at these silly moments you've been having." Nick says softly.

You laugh and nod before Matt was gently guiding you to the dressing room.

[planeteroticaaa]

“BE A GOOD GIRL FOR DADDY. . .”

content warnings ! : cheating (higuruma is married), corrupt business men, rough sex, nanami and higuruma are mean, cumming on face, creampie, photos taken after, porn w/o plot, names such as: slut, doll, good girl, daddy used, reader is a college student, higuruma and nanami are in their late 30s/early 40s, etcc etcc

word count ! : 1600+

“how about we send your “daddy” a message in return. . .” higuruma stepped in front of you just as you were leaving. you stared up at the man all big eyed and confused. “w-what do you—” your voice was just about a whisper, sentence stopping short when you felt nanami’s body pressed against yours, his chest to your back and his pelvis to your ass.

ceo!nanami and ceo!higuruma who were both very pissed off after an important business meeting with their rival company’s boss—your father—so when you walked inside the conference room on the top floor of the building only a few hours later in your cute little crop top and mini skirt set, high heel shoes, with your hands behind your back and a pout on your plump pink lipgloss coated lips, they were confused. what more could this man want?

“my daddy wanted me to relay a message. . .” you explained, fingers fiddling nervously with the letter your father’s secretary wrote behind your back. “well, out with it,” sighed nanami and you couldn’t help the way your body tensed. you walked around the glass table, slowly making your way to the two large men in suits that eyed you down. you now stood in front of them, holding out the envelope and avoiding their harsh stares before nanami took it from your hands and adjusted his glasses.

the words on the paper he read aloud to higuruma went in one ear and right out the other, your attention on their big, veiny hands, fingers thick and manicured—higuruma’s left adorned by a silver wedding band on his ring finger and nanami’s wrist covered by an expensive watch. they both wore rich suits—higuruma’s the plain black and white whereas nanami’s was his signature white with a blue button up with a brown dotted yellow tie, their muscles bulging through the fabrics.

you watched higuruma’s jaw clench, eyes narrowed at you, and his lips moving as though he were speaking to you, but you were too focused on just how fucking fine your father’s enemies were, your bottom lip inbetween your teeth. “did you hear me?” he spoke, deep voice pulling you out of the trance you were in. your eyes quickly darted between the two of them and upon watching nanami’s hand form a fist, crumbling up the paper, did you start backing away. “i’m sorry…i’m going to be late for class,” you mumbled and it was the last thing you said before the men cornered you.

“m-more! pleasepleaseplease—i need more!” you cried. they you had bent over—nanami holding your wrist that were tied behind your back with his tie to keep you standing, your skirt over your ass and thong pulled to the side so they could glide their fingertips up and down your slick folds, refraining from giving you the satisfaction of their fingers inside your pretty little pussy that pulsated at the mere thought.

“so fucking loud,” higuruma mumbled to himself and before you knew it, he was standing in front of you. you gazed up at him, watching him lick his lips as he undid his pants. he grabbed you by your hair, lifting your head up while creating a slight arch in your back and you came face to face with his long, girthy cock. “this ought to shut you up. . .” he mumbled, eyes narrowed down at you as he slapped his dick against your cheek then guided the oozing angry red tip across your already open mouth, coating your lips in his clear precum.

“look at that, little slut got her mouth all open and ready for me,” higuruma smirked, tapping the fat tip of his cock on your stuck out tongue. fuck, you were ready to have him in your mouth.

his grip on your hair remained strong, especially when he thrusted his full length down your throat. you choked—eyes rolling back to the feeling of the prominent vein running up his cock on your tongue, cheeks hollowing helplessly when tears stung your eyes, threatening to spill and ruin your mascara at any second. he was just so damn big.

your breast bounced to the rough, fast movement of his pelvis coming into contact with your face. you continued to gag, spit lubricating his cock and coating your chin, your tongue moving to swirl around the tip each time he pulled back slightly then back to give the base attention.

“taking this dick down your throat so damn good…you want daddy to cum all over your face, hmm?” he pulled out, his cock pressed firmly against your face as he moved your head down to suck his balls.

you were so distracted, lips wrapped tightly around his left nut, tongue rubbing the base faster the louder you heard his grunts and groans were, that you didn’t hear the sound of nanami’s pants being unbuckled or his fly being unzipped, so drunk on higuruma’s scent and the way his cock roughly hit the back of your throat before, thst you had almost completely forgotten about nanami until he pushed the entirety of his length inside you.

you screamed, eyes rolling back immediately at the feeling of the delicious burn of him stretching you out, filling you to the brim, his fat tip already pressed firmly against that spongy spot inside your tight, gummy walls that made you see stars. “fuckkkk! t-too…much,” you cried out, your hands behind your back pushing against nanami’s pelvis.

“oh? i could’ve sworn you were just begging for more,” nanami teased you, landing a harsh slap on your ass after. “mmm!” you whined, biting down hard on your bottom lip. “come on, i know you can take it. . .” he spoke low, moving his hips back to crash into you again, your ass rippling at the contact.

“oh s-shit!” you drooled, mouth gaped open as gasp spilled from your lips, legs helplessly shaking and cunt squeezing nanami tightly. the only reason you were even still standing was higuruma’s grip on your hair and nanami’s grip on your wrist.

“pussy’s so damn tight. . .” he groaned, pulling out a bit just to slam back into you. nanami watched as your pussy leaked cum all over his cock, making a mess down his balls onto the tiled floor. he stared at the ring of white coating the base and he couldn’t help, but chuckle. “cumming already? too bad i’m not finished with you yet,” he said, setting a fast rhythm of his cock thrusting inside your creamy pussy.

“just be a good girl for daddy and take it, yeah?” nanami grunted, eyebrows furrowing as he gave it to you hard, bullying his cock into you while higuruma took the opportunity of your mouth hung open to thrust himself back in your mouth.

you didn’t know what to focus on, your brain quickly turning to mush with how rough they were both being—their cock’s imprinting themselves into you, your moans from nanami’s dick fucking you so deep sending vibarations throughout higuruma’s body.

tears fell from your eyes, mascara staining your cheeks. your breasts bounced all over the place, legs involuntarily closing together as nanami’s balls slapped against your puffy, throbbing clit with each rough thrust. “shit doll—you’re gonna make me cum if you keep that up. . .” higuruma cursed, voice barely above a whisper.

you continued to move your tongue up and down his length even more at the idea of him cumming down your throat, looking up at him through glossy eyes. with one final hard thrust into your mouth, higuruma’s cock twitched—ropes of his cum spilling down your throat before pulling out and jerking himself through the rest of his orgasm, the remainder covering your face.

“yeahh, that’s it…good girl. . .” higuruma groaned, watching you lick your lips happily. “brain-dead slut,” he smirked a vile smirk, slapping his still hard cock against your cheek again. “i think she liked it hiromi…squeezing me even tighter now,” nanami bit his lips, his thrust into your pussy slowly becoming more and more sloppy. “oh really? i knew you were a little whore the second you walked in here in that small ass skirt,” higuruma lifted your chin, pushing his finger into your mouth and with his thumb pressed on your tongue, he spit down your mouth.

“mghh god—shit! gonna let me fill this pretty pussy up, yeah?” nanami cursed at the feeling of you squeezing him yet again at higuruma’s filthy words, letting go of your wrist and now keeping a tight hold on your hips, fingers digging into your skin. “y-yes! please don’t—d-don’t stop!” you loudly babbled, cunt pulsating around his length again, milking him for everything he had as you reached your own orgasm. nanami groaned, his cock twitching, soon after emptying his seed inside you with his tip pressed right against your cervix.

your eyes rolled back, legs shaking, pussy leaking yours and nanami’s mixed cum as you fell to the floor, no longer able to stand. drool seeped from your lips, completely unable to think about annything else, your cunt throbbing around nothing, so fucked out you hardly noticed flash of a phone camera and the snap following after it. soon, higuruma’s phone was flooded with calls and messages, but rather than answering he muted the device. “your father’s going to have to wait a while. after all, i haven’t had my turn inside that little pussy,” he smirked down at you.

— tags list!: @kashxyou, @lame-xxx, @ninacutebee16, @ynishalee (submit your tumblr username here if you wish to be added!)

[777heavengirl]

goodbye nostalgia

james potter x reader one-shot ! warnings: bittersweet? full of happy-sad, comfort? established relationship… actually kind of fluffy word count: 5,031 masterlist

a/n: ive been so so nostalgic and feeling bittersweet so this is what i threw up... enjoy! LMAO

It was so hot you felt the waves of rays from the sun on your skin like you were hovering your hand over a hot stove. Your skin dripped and your sunglasses were no longer enough to keep the glare away from your eyes. You stayed very still, listening, to the bugs in the bushes, the whisper of the breeze, James's laughter inside, and Remus talking more avidly than he usually did, you could hear Sirius burst into a roar of laughter. If you really focused, you could hear the vague hum of Fleamont's radio, the reports of a quidditch game buzzing through. You could hear the blades of grass shift and fold underneath the pink towel you had laid underneath your body when you breathed or moved. You could feel the beads of sweat start traveling down your body, but you didn't move. You didn't dare to, who were you to disturb such a moment? A moment of everything. When your boys laughed, and the cicadas buzzed and Mr Potter's team was winning.

"D'you fancy a bit of mango honey? Bought them at the muggle market yesterday, they said they were imported!" Mrs Potter, Euphemia, approached you, a small porcelain bowl in her hand, orange-yellow chunks sitting inside. They glistened under the sun, and you couldn't help but feel like the mango. Skin wet, juice dripping, the glare of the sun making both you and the mango sweat. 

"I would love some, thank you, Mrs Potter," She smiled at you, and you sat up, carefully cupping the bowl with both hands. 

"Anytime, be careful with the sun-" She winked as she trogged back inside. Euphemia Potter was the poster child for the perfect mother. She was warm and inviting, her laughter often bounced off the walls and the glint in her eyes told you that she was probably just as bad as James when she was young. She was still just as bad now. She was stern and rightfully so, as who could reel James and Sirius back in but Euphemia, barely a word from her lips, and the two boys would stand in front of her like soldiers. The boys loved her, and her warm nature made her easy to love and need. All of your friends ached to be in her presence. And you suspected she was the reason James was so magnetic as well.

"Whatcha doing out here all alone hm?" James's voice rang through the air, the hum of the cicadas falling secondary to his words. He crouched next to you, his fingers snatching a square of mango. He hummed in satisfaction as he savored the sweet, a drop of juice dripping from the fat of his lip. You wiped it wordlessly, the touch of his lips on your finger making your fingertips tingle. "We're going on a ride if you wanna come,"

"Where?" 

"Just the muggle village close by, Sirius is fascinated by the car Remus got" You contemplated it as he grabbed another chunk, this time pressing it against your lips until you opened, welcoming in the cloying taste. You nodded shortly after, a small brilliant! spilling from his lips as he got up, and extended his hands out to hoist you up as well. You pulled your shorts back on, and James pouted at the disappearance of your bathing suit bottoms, but it quickly turned into a crooked smile as you pulled one of his old muggle band tees over your frame. It was old, the logo of The Kinks was soft and faded. If you ran the pads of your fingers over it, you could feel the cracks in the paint. The top of it had been stretched out and cut off impulsively, it exposed your shoulders just enough for James to press kisses onto the skin there in delight. It was smaller, that's why you had kept it, he didn't fit in it anymore much to his dismay. It was from a time when he wasn't toned by quidditch and hadn't stretched to 182 centimeters. It felt like years away, he intertwined his hands with yours as you slipped on your sandals and walked to the front of the house.

You realized it truly hadn't been that long ago.

The car Remus got was an old blue Volkswagen Beatle, one that barely fit his lanky figure, much less the other two tall idiots he was friends with. But you found a way to fit in regardless. He "bought" it from the old muggle couple that lived next to his childhood home, they wanted to give it to him for free, we've been close your whole life Remus, please take it as a present. He refused, ever the humble man, but they agreed on a nice dinner instead.

As repayment for the car, for his childhood, for their memories. 

It felt bittersweet to stuff yourself in the back of the car with James. You wondered if the couple had ever done the same, stuff their closest friends onto the faded black seats, windows down to let the summer air roll in, drive with music blasting and barking fits of laughter. You wondered if they ever held hands as desperately as James clutched to yours, as longingly as you held his. The thought of you and James, all old and wrinkled but certainly not faded, flashed in your mind.

Did the old couple ever drive this far? Close to the coast and the ocean, enough to smell the salt of the sea, with sweat rolling down the skin, nevertheless a smile plastered on everyone's faces. You pondered on their life, of a couple you had met only once, in the fleeting exchange of Remus getting the car keys from them. You drove to the Potter's beach cottage with him that night, the better half of your group waiting for you there. 

You and Remus exchanged knowing glances as the two pureblood boys stared in awe at everything, dragging you into a grocery store in front of where Remus parked the small blue car. The low fluorescent lights gave James’s skin a pale edge, the sunlight outside kept at bay by the door. His high cheekbones and strong nose had blue-tinged highlights. Especially as he dragged you to the back, venturing through the refrigerated section exclaiming at the variety of ice creams in pints and sticks.  He looked straight out of the muggle art films Lily was so fond of watching, you wondered how her vacation in Ireland was going.

“D’you want an ice lolly?” James held two in front of you, a bright red one and a blue one. He hummed in agreement as you grabbed the red one and he smiled at his blue one happily. he didn’t hesitate in opening it, licking it like a child as he continued to drag you around eventually falling into step with Sirius who had been passionately explaining to Remus how he just had to find the muggle strawberry marmalade cookies Evans’ parents gave us when we visited. Remus helped him scan the shelves.

You observed them. The way James approached and offered Remus and Sirius a taste of his blue ice cream the latter trying it curiously. Sirius’s face soured at the blue raspberry taste exclaiming how it tasted like the inside of a cauldron. There were no boundaries or lines to be crossed, for them, everything was shared and treasured. There were no secrets amongst brothers, no borders nor humiliations. 

“Oh so that’s what it is-“ James looked at it curiously, evidently having felt the same. He continued to lick it regardless and Sirius let out a ‘fuck yea’ as Remus handed him the pack of marmalade cookies he’d been hunting for. The marauders were endlessly entertaining to observe. You reckon you had never seen love and friendship in its purest form until you met them. 

James, ever the caring one, fussed and worried over his friends in a way you’ve never seen any boy— or anyone for that matter— do, it reminded you of his mother. The fussing and the insistent questions of Did you eat? did you sleep well? Are you feeling poorly? at any turn of mood was like hearing Euphemia herself. Not that you’d ever tell him how alike he was to his mother.

You loved watching the boys, the way James threw his arms over both of them, even crooked from Remus's stature. Under muscle and hard bone, your soft heart squeezed in something akin to nostalgia. It made you ache and yearn. You thought you could listen to the laughs that bounced from them, in between them, forever. You laughed as Remus scrunched his nose at James's ice cream as the lot of you paid, the cashier looked around your age, bored out of her mind with her summer job. 

"Come ooon Moony just try it-"

"Prongs I hate blue raspberry please-" James pouted, and Remus rolled his eyes, taking a small tentative nibble of the ice. He scrunched up his face again and shook his head. "Yup still tastes like chemicals, don't know why you like it- yer a freak"

James resorted to bickering about it, trying to get Sirius to rally behind him. The long-haired boy paid him no mind as he tried opening the red plastic cylinder of cookies. Remus fell into the bickering with James, both with a smirk pulling at the corners of their lips.

They were just boys after all. 

"D'you want one?" Sirius turned the package towards you, eyeing your red ice treat in return. You nodded, offering your ice cream to him as you wiggled a marmalade cookie from out of the package. He hummed in satisfaction at the sweeter tone of your ice lolly,

"I reckon your girlfriend's got you beat Prongs, hers is better-" 

"Nuh-uh!" He reached over and grabbed yours, pressing it against his lips as he nibbled a bit of it. "Oh-"

The three boys exploded in bickering, your ice dessert eventually falling back into your hands. You never minded, the fact that in the closeness to them, your limits were also blurred. It was comforting and intimate and familiar in ways you had never suspected. You had never had friendships like this, not ones that ended well anyway. They seemed to handle it well, the intimacy between them. The long limbs scrambled together, the way you knew that they secretly held hands sometimes, in reassurance, in strength. Even if for the other two, there were sparks of something more, they never failed to be the same with James. You had been in James' arms more than once, at a party, on the couch, in his dorm, with either Sirius or Remus pressed against the other side. Sometimes the both of them. Sometimes their hands connected, sometimes just the touch of their backs against each other, of knees touching, was enough.

The first time truly witnessing their closeness it was confusing. Their tendency to sleep on the same bed, still in uniform, and a mess of sheets and half of their bodies peeking and pouring out from the bed, made sure that the surprise and confusion eventually fell away. Who could judge when they have never looked so peaceful? Innocent even— Smirks of mischief gone, walls of strength and laughter down.

They really were just boys.

You continued exploring the muggle town, walking around aimlessly as James held your hand. His hands were soft, despite the quidditch-made ridge of callouses on the edge of his hands where his fingers met the palm. They felt awfully warm, but James tended to run on the hotter side. Both he and Sirius did, Remus and you were the cold-skinned ones. James often cupped your hands into his and blew hot air into them. There was no need for such things now, the sun blared down on the four of you mercilessly yet- more forgiving than earlier. As it began to sink in the sky, James's brown skin took on golden tones. He always did look good sunbathed. After watching him many times, you were convinced the sun was made to make James glow, his skin absorbing the radiance with ease. 

"Did you hear me?" James's lips repressed a smile, having caught you daydreaming, you shook your head in honesty "I asked if you wanted to take a stroll around the beach," you saw now, the entrance of the beach no less than three meters in front of you. You nodded wordlessly, being pulled by his hand into a sprint. His already unruly hair was even more windswept, a mess of curls and breeze. Sirius ran not far in front of you and James, his long black hair equally as wild, laughter pouring from deep within him, from his lungs, as he pulled at James's other hand. Remus did a light jog behind you, to pretend he was 'catching up'. He'd eventually get there, his laughter also reaching your ears. You couldn't help it, you really could not. Your lips seemed to have a mind of their own as they broke into a smile, laughter soon dribbling out as well. It was compulsive truly, completely out of your hands, they all had something magnetic that twisted your tummy into laughter, pure joy, and release pouring from your soul. You thought this was why they had become so popular, they were so inviting. The boys, all three of them, acted like youth had been created just for them— like they could eat the world raw.

It was hard not to get caught up in it. They were exhilarating and adrenaline-inducing. You settled on the fact that being with them— with James— felt like fireworks were exploding right next to you, booming and echoing in your chest, lighting up your eyes.

Sirius and James ended up wrestling in the sand, and you let go of James's hand to avoid falling, content with watching them. The sand wasn't wet but it was starting to get cold and you could hear Remus burst into laughter as he jogged towards you, his cheeky, you realized, chuckles reverberating as he knocked the two of you down next to the two undisciplined boys. James screeched in laughter, as he crawled towards you, dropping his head on your tummy seemingly exhausted. 

"I reckon I've won" Sirius sauntered over, tripping over his feet and letting himself fall on top of Remus, one of his legs thrown over you somehow.

"Nuh uh-" 

"You ran away first Prongs-" They squabbled about it like they were five, brotherly bites at each other. Remus let out a breathy laugh whispering to you;

"I think you guys might have to drag me back to the car-" you knew he meant it, not being able to imagine the sort of aches and joint pain he was feeling from the light jog alone, much less throwing the both of you down to the sand, but nevertheless you both exploded into a fit of giggles, the thought of carrying his lanky figure across town prompting your laugh. 

"Oi whats so funny there?" Sirius pressed a finger against your side eliciting more giggles from you as you squirmed away trying to push James off as he also started digging his fingers on your sides.

”Please stop oh my god- please please-“ your giggles left you gasping for air and you felt some relief as Remus pushed Sirius off. The dark-haired boy kneeled next to Remus, trying to catch his breath.

”You’re so paying for that Moony-“ he threw himself on top of the sandy-haired boy and they began to roll around in the sand, wrestling with bubbling fits of laughter as both tried to overpower the other.

”We should get going— mum's gonna have my head” you hummed in agreement, noting how dark it’s gotten. You didn't think of the sand in your hair or the grains that stuck to your skin, the one you'd inevitably be shaking out of everything you owned for the next three weeks. You couldn't think of it when James was now face to face with you. You couldn't help but press a kiss to his cheek, and then his lips, and then the other cheek.

"This wasn't much of a stroll-" your words were soft and slightly teasing, a small pull at the corner of your lip making his smirk grow. He pressed a kiss to your cheek, soft and damp in the way he knew made you laugh and wipe your cheek. You didn't this time, he did it again for good measure.

”I promise I’ll take you on a disgustingly romantic stroll tomorrow yeah?” you hummed in agreement again, and he shot you a dimpled smile. “Oi idiots! let’s go,” 

Sirius groaned in disagreement, trying to contain his laugh as Remus pinched his side and threw him off. They both got up, shaky and still laughing at each other. Remus clutched at Sirius’s shoulder for support.

”Moony I hate to say it but maybe you ought to get some sort of… cane” James hurried to throw Remus’s arm over his shoulders and the taller boy scowled, like a kid who was getting scolded by his mother. They vaguely tried to dust themselves off.

”Prongs I do not need a cane, I’m not 80-“ 

“Might be good for you Moons,” Sirius chewed at the last remaining cookie, the package having been shoved in the inside of his jacket. There was a surprising lack of sand but it was crushed, nevertheless, he picked up the pieces gingerly. "Just think on it yeah?" He said it casually like Remus had to pick between ice cream flavors, and you could see the sting in Remus's eyes. You knew Sirius did not say it in an uncaring way, quite the opposite. Madame Pompfrey had said it more than once, and every time Remus shook his head and walked through the pain.

The four of you made your way back in silence, Remus eventually disentangling himself from James and walking unsteadily to the car. 

"D'you want me to drive Rem?" Your words were low and close to him so the other two wouldn't hear. He shook his head, shooting you a small smile. 

"Come on Moony, let’s ride" Remus couldn’t help but smile as Sirius opened the driver's door with a bow, a goofy smile also playing on his lips. The tension dissipated quickly, it left as quickly as it came, Remus got in the car and James opened the door for you as well.

You started cruising again, down the road, this time the lowered windows let in the cool night air and Sirius stuck his torso out, eventually deciding on sitting on the window, the only thing keeping him tethered to the car being his legs inside and the hand on the roof that helped balance him. James followed soon after, his foot tapping your thigh as he laughed with Sirius. Their screams made you and Remus laugh too,

”What are you waiting for?”

Remus’s deep brown eyes looked at yours through the review mirror and you felt your breath caught in your throat. You felt your fingers shake as you nodded and maneuvered your way out the window, the speed working against you. Sirius cheered as you sat on the edge of the window, a nervous laughter bubbling out of you, the wind sweeping past your face making the tip of your nose and the apples of your cheeks feel chilly. Sirius’s hair flew wildly as he played fast and loose when he let go of the car shooting his arms up, but he didn’t fall, his chest echoed with laughter.

James extended his hand, still sticking on the roof, towards yours, and bravely so did you. His fingers came to a stop right above your knuckles, Remus pushed the car to its limit. The air was more than just cold now, it bit at your cheeks and made your eyes water— but you couldn’t find it within yourself to even mind. It was exhilarating and blood pumping, your heart was about ready to leap out of your chest as the boys let out roars of laughter. 

Soon enough you’d turn into the street where the Potter’s cottage resided in. The small, hidden stretch of street for the magical folks. Remus slowed to a stop expertly, and the grip of James and your other hand gripping the inside of the car helped you avoid the recoil of the stop. Sirius wasn’t so lucky, as he laid his whole upper body— or as much of it as he could— against the car. A terrified grin on his face. At least he didn't fall out.

You all climbed out, mindless chatter between them about what to eat or what to do. But as your heart began to slow down again, and the excitement seeped out of your body, you were left alone with your feelings once again. The moment passed and left you empty like your chest cavity had been hollowed out, scooped out by sentimentality. It made you angry, the way that your eyes felt hot with tears They had no use, truly they did not, they were tears spilled in vain. Nothing was wrong, your boyfriend loved you, you had amazing friends, and you had an amazing day, a thrilling ride home. What could possibly be nagging at your heart?

"Are you going to finally tell me what's been up with you today?" James whispered into your ear, from behind you. You had stayed by the door, shooing them in so they wouldn't notice. But James knew. He always knows. He rested his head on your shoulder, looking at the grassy fields in front of you. "Don't you dare say nothing because I know that look on your face love, besides you've been uncharacteristically quiet this fine evening" There was still a tinge of joke in his tone, an edge that he never really seemed to shake off even when he meant to be serious. 

"It's stupid James, I'm okay I promise" You pressed a small kiss against his temple and went around him to go inside, making a beeline for the kitchen. You hoped it'd be empty, so you could sit and marinate in your thoughts for longer. You could hear James's parents chatting upstairs, their voices traveling through the wooden floors, you could feel the breeze coming in through the patio doors and the boys' echoing laughter, bickering, and the avid conversation that was so characteristically them.

"I hope you didn't believe I'd let you get away with that-" he tsked "shoddy performance love-" James pressed a kiss against your cheek as he came close to you again. You hoped you'd push him off until later, but alas James was a pressing man. 

"Really? I've been told I'm quite an actress-" you tried joking, but the smirk on your lips didn't reach your eyes, and James knew— only from the absence of the singular dimple on the side of your face— that it was false. He took your hand in his, his expression turning somber, 

"I need you to tell me, you've been in the clouds all day-" you sighed as he played with your fingers, his lips pressing a kiss to the tips. You gave in, but for James you always did. You could never tell him no. "I promise I won't tease"

"Do you ever have like, flashes of memories and glimpses in your mind of all these beautiful things? like a montage kind of, just of…you know, beauty that- moves you and love that’s shared"

"A montage?" James' lips curled into a smile, "like a vision? of something you've lived before?"

"No… well ye- no- just everything, even of the moment you’re in... like it'll slip from your fingers and you're missing and aching for it before it's even over" You tried to articulate the feeling, the one that had been slowly eating at your heart. The feeling that makes you cry senselessly and haunts your dreams.

James seemed to think about it, regardless of how frustrated you felt with your own words, he seemed to understand. He mouled it over, and you could almost see the gears turn behind his eyes. For a second you thought you caught a glance of something, something sad and blue and tender—

"Yeah, I know," he bit his lip briefly, from the inside, a nervous habit he had picked up. "it's like you're nostalgic before it's even..."

"over" "over"

You played with his fingers now, pulling and massaging each one. He let you without refute as he went quiet again, deep in thought.

"I feel it when I look at my friends, at you, I think about if it'll last forever—" He looked straight out the window, into the pitch-dark sky, a sad tightening around his mouth "I reckon it is a matter of knowing, of treasuring it, the moment, or whatever 'it' is for you, and tucking it neatly inside your heart... I reckon the only way to deal with it is to force yourself to enjoy the moment"

He looked at you now, his brown eyes stared deep into your own, unwavering. James the ever-cocky one, always brave and always caring, so loud and rambunctious you'd think fireworks exploded in his veins, suddenly seemed so small, and raw. You didn't think he had such feelings, of course, he got down sometimes, but this? This existential mess that rotted and churched inside your heart until you were quiet and blue? No, James Potter could not possibly possess such feelings. He looked at you with tenderness, but the longing that lay under it shoved neatly and discretely in some dark corner of his soul, was new. And something you never expected him to feel.

"There's no need for nostalgia love," he grabbed your hands tightly in his "The time is now.” He said it with determination like it had been something he had arrived at. A conclusion to calm the ache in his chest and reassure himself that there was no need to live in the past, nor sad about something that had not yet passed.

He pressed a quick peck to your lips. But you pulled him closer, soft and yearning. It was delicate yet filled to the brim with love and you hoped he couldn't feel the tears that stained your cheeks, but you knew he did. James Potter knew everything. 

“don't cry lovely” He pressed another kiss to your lips and tucked you into his arms for a hug. 

You shook yourself off soon after, moving away from the kitchen counters. You took his hand now, along with a quick kiss to his lips, and for the first time today, you took the lead. You dragged him outside with his friends. The fire crackled and burned and the boys sat on Euphemia's wicker garden chairs, the cushions that usually decorated the space thrown about, Remus hoarding about four in his chair no doubt trying to calm the ache in his bones. Sirius was halfway through convincing Remus to try the strange cider concoction he had made the previous day, no doubt an alcoholic bomb. They both laughed as Remus continued to refuse the glass Sirius kept pushing in his hands. 

"I'll try it Pads-" You extended your hand and Sirius smiled wolfishly, at the nickname, and your initiative. He handed you the overfilled glass, the drops of the cold liquid spilling over your hand as you rushed to grab it and take a swing. The bitter taste hit your throat harshly the tangy-sweet flavor of the actual cider washing over your tongue as the gulp of liquid made its way down. It was like a punch to the face, but you couldn't help the shrieks of laughter that poured from you.

"Godric's balls-" Sirius let out a roar of laughter, taking the glass back from your trembling hands as you coughed. "Sirius Black you're a sick man- who would drink that" he took a shameless sip.

"That's the most you've spoken today doll I reckon it did its job-" he winked as your face turned hot, and laughter started to spill from both your lips as James grabbed the cup.

"It can't be that bad-" he took a reckless swing, not expecting much- before spitting it out on the grass with a yelp, "Padfoot you're going to hell for that atrocity" he gasped out as he handed Remus the cup. The sandy-haired boy glared at James mercilessly but accepted it, because if you can't beat them join them right?

Remus managed to gulp down more than James had even attempted, "Christ padfoot, seriously this is sick" and was next to succumb to the stomach-aching laughter, clutching his stomach as his features grew red with laughter. He put the glass down in the middle as the four of you continued to laugh. You teased James for spitting it out and Sirius for making it in the first place, James's arm around your shoulders, both of you shaking and clutching to each other trying to breathe from the laughter that impeded it. Remus slapped Sirius upside the head, but the dark-haired boy couldn't manage to retaliate, wiping tears from his eyes, his lungs wheezing.

You hoped it would always be this way, watching the three of them clutch at each other as they laughed, like brothers, like more than that. you dreamt of being in your forties still laughing this way, with nothing but joy in your cheeks and fireworks in your chest. still in the same beach house for the holiday, maybe married, maybe with children with their reckless but faithful friends of their own. 

Maybe it would always be this way.

You decided you’d focus on being 20, as you blinked joyful tears back. You’d focus on their thunderous laughs and their wicked winks. The triplet smirks and the way James pressed you close to your chest as you all laughed until your tummies hurt. You decided you were content now, at twenty. Yes, you were happy.

There was no need for nostalgia, the time is now.

[sophvilla]

Do that again, Baby.

⋅˚₊‧ OT5 X Reader Series ‧₊˚ ⋅

Pairing: Husband! Yeonjun X PregnantWife Fem!reader

Warning: General Fluff, Tooth-roting fluff, Written au, Pregnancy, Husband x Wife

Genre: When Their Baby kicks for the First time

YEONJUN | 연준

Yeonjun was always all over you, one clingy and affectionate husband.

Truthfully, while you would like to say that he is annoying and is making you regret ever getting pregnant, you have to admit that he makes being pregnant a lot easier to endure. His light-hearted way of speaking puts you at easy somehow.

He also made it very obvious that he is excited for the baby, maybe even more than you’re. one of the many ways he shows his enthusiasm is through buying baby clothes and baby equipment and I mean a shit ton of them.

That’s why you’re not surprised when he enters the house with yet another batch of baby clothes, “wifey, I am home!”

You get up and waddle your way to him, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “what did you get this time?”

“I thought you would never ask,” he smirks before pulling out each and every one of the outfits he got.

You’re sat on the couch with a cup of your favourite warm drink as you listen to his rambles, “first off, I got this really cute pink dress! Call it a dad’s instinct but I think she will have these beautiful pink cheeks I swear I can feel it ,” he grins.

You nod absentmindedly as he continues, “second, I got this yellow jump suit? Cute right? Well I bought them in our size too, family matching night !!” he talks as if he is rapping and you roll your eyes smiling. He resumes, “eh, I don’t care, but it’s pretty so who cares?”

He puts the clothes aside before kneeling in front you, hand resting on your stomach, “right, baby?” he coos, “daddy’s going to get you all the pretty outfits you want!”

You’re about to drift to sleep while your husband busies himself with the baby, but you’re quickly brought back to consciousness when you feel her kick against your stomach.

Your husband’s gasp quickly follows after before he presses his ear to your stomach, “can you do that again for me, pretty?”

His other hand moves to hold your own and he guides your hand to his hair, “somehow, this is making me realize just how close she is to finally join us, right, wifey?”

“right, ‘junie,” you smile softly and he quickly starts peppering your face with kisses, murmuring about how his pretty wife is simply

Irresistible.

“ she’s going to be our sunshine right babe? ” Yeonjun asks after he settles down in the Crook of your neck.

“Of course she’s going to be our little sunshine bundle, she’ll have everyone wrapped around her tinny finger prepping her with love and gifts especially her Uncles” you reply with a laugh as you can imagine how they’re gonna spoil her with her dad.

“ yeahh’ but you know’ I have to keep her away from Beomgyu, I’m afraid he infect her with his Annoying presence ” Your husband mumbles against your neck as you smack his chest from his broken humour.

“ He’s funny Junie, also He is fun to be around with , I personally think our baby gonna love all four of them ” getting a nod from Yeonjun as he smiles while massaging your belly.

[katyaromanoffpetrova]

What if...they met in college? (1)

Instead of being forced into espionage, Kat and Nat grew up in society like normal kids. But fate always forces them together. As roommates in college this time. One popular girl and one nerdy girl.

• Natasha Romanoff x Fem!OC • Wordcount: 4.7k • Warnings: none • A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY @nataliasquote !!! This one is for you. The college AU you are so obsessed with. More parts to follow :) Masterlist

Do not repost my work as your own or translate my work!!

Katya

The hallways of the campus' dormitories were chaos. Bags, suitcases, instruments, and people, lots of people, blocked Katya's way as she tried to navigate her way to room 415. They bumped into her left and right, and screamed things in her ear as she parkoured over their stuff, yanking on the handle of her suitcase aggressively whenever it got stuck. 

Move-in day was busy, really busy. She meant to avoid rush hour by arriving early, but she'd gotten stuck in traffic. For two hours. Now her roommate had gotten to their room before she did and undoubtedly claimed the good side, probably leaving her with very little space and very possibly decorating the floor with the world's ugliest rug. 

Katya stopped halfway down the hall to catch her breath, dropping her heavy sports bag to the floor to give her poor, aching shoulder a break. With the back of her hand, she pushed her glasses up her nose and brushed some hair from her forehead. It would have been great to have some help. At the end of the hall, a girl had a whole team to help her move in. Parents, sister or friend, boyfriend or brother. But Katya didn't have anyone, so she had to take three roundtrips to the parking lot by herself.

With a sigh, she hoisted the bag up again and watched the room numbers climb the further she walked down the hall. The girls in room 410 had their door open, a song from fifteen years ago blasting from a portable speaker on their desks. They must know each other, because both their sides of the room were in coordinating colors. One of them caught Katya's nosy eye and gave her an awkward smile.

411, 412, 413, 414…

The door to room 415 was open. Katya stopped and took one last, deep breath before stepping into the doorway. 

She was right. Her roommate had already decorated her part of the room. Her eye immediately fell on the large rug between the beds. A fluffy, really soft looking beige one that looked very tempting for a nap. It suited the rest of the surprisingly calm decorations. 

White bed sheets with various neutral colored pillows on top, the subtle black and white prints on the wall, the beige colored plant pots, the fairylights that emitted a soft yellow glow, and the beige curtains that Katya also wasn't mad about. The only thing that held some color were the pictures on the corkboard above her headboard.

Whoever this girl was, she had good taste.

Katya dumped her suitcase by the unoccupied bed and threw her duffel bag on top, careful to avoid the rug with her shoes. The knot in her stomach unraveled a little bit. Maybe her worries about her roommate had been invalid. She had definitely been overthinking too much. It even smelled nice in here, like her roommate had lit a vanilla scented candle.

''Oh, you're here!'' A cheerful voice came from behind Katya. ''I went to pick up two muffins from downstairs because I was hungry and I figured you would be too.'' 

Katya turned around… and was met with the most stunning woman she'd ever seen in her entire life. 

The same height as her, lean build, fair skin—but that wasn't what Katya's gaze was drawn to. A pair of full, pink lips framed a beautiful wide smile that reached all the way up to her even more beautiful, sparkling green eyes. Her eyelashes were so long they nearly touched her perfectly defined eyebrows, and when she blinked, they brushed over her sharp cheekbones. Her nose wasn't small or pointy, and had a little bump that would make most people self-conscious, but fit her face so well that everyone would be jealous of it anyway.

But somehow, like that wasn't already enough to turn heads, this all paled in comparison to the long, slightly curly hair that fell down her shoulders. It was that kind of bright, deep red that non-redheads tried to achieve but never could. The kind that naturally looked darker in the winter and lit up slightly orange in the summer sun. Everchanging and unique, and part of the reason why Katya's heart was hammering in her chest. 

''I'm Natasha.''

Oh. My. God. 

Katya could not form a single thought. Her mouth was as dry as the Sahara desert in the middle of the summer. She could only stare. Stare at her roommate while she tried to fight off the gay panic that reduced her to a completely useless human being. 

This could not be happening. The girl she had to live with for a year could not be this excruciatingly attractive. Freshman year would be her end. 

Awkwardly, she cleared her throat when she saw that Natasha was waiting for a response, an amused eyebrow quirked up on her forehead. God, she was already making a fool of herself. ''Katya Petrova,'' she said shortly, her smile filled with embarrassment as she accepted the blueberry muffin Natasha kindly got her. Get yourself together, or she's gonna get tired of your weirdness quickly.

It wasn't physically possible, but Natasha's perfect eyes lit up even more. ''Russian?''

''Yeah.''

Her smile turned into a mysterious smirk that sent tingles down Katya's spine. ''Then we're gonna get along just fine,'' she said, and Katya couldn't help but feel like there was some sort of double meaning she was missing. Natasha looked at her like she was a meal, and her nerves intensified.

''Uh, thank you for the muffin,'' she blurted out.

''You're welcome,'' Natasha mused, totally cool as she leaned back against her desk. It was unfair, how she turned Katya into a complete mess while she remained confident and calm. But it was so attractive. Katya shivered as Natasha's green eyes slowly looked her up and down. ''I think I picked right. You look like a blueberry muffin girl.''

An awkward chuckle slipped past Katya's lips. She wanted to get away from that piercing gaze desperately, anything to think clearly again, but it wouldn't let her move. ''What does that mean?''

''I don't know.'' With a smirk—and intense eye contact—Natasha brought her ring finger to her lips and sucked the muffin crumbs off. Casually, she repeated the motion with her other fingers, her entire thumb disappearing in her mouth.

Katya felt her eyes widen, more gay panic flushing her veins until her heart thudded loudly in her chest. Images, ones she would never say out loud, filled her mind. Her lower stomach turned into knots while a blush covered her cheeks. She turned away, pretending to be really busy with unpacking. She swore she heard a soft chuckle behind her.

''I hope you don't mind the rug and the curtains. I took the liberty to decorate.''

''That's okay," Katya answered, having trouble remembering what the curtains even looked like. They were the very last thing on her mind as she rummaged aimlessly through her bag, hoping Natasha didn't notice that she wasn't doing anything.

''Is that all your stuff?''

Katya shook her head, risking a glance over her shoulder. She was relieved to see that Natasha's flirty expression had turned into something more puzzled. ''No, the rest is in my car.''

It wasn't hard to put two and two together. Natasha's eyes visibly softened. ''Are you here alone?''

''Yes," Katya answered casually, ignoring the stab in her heart.

It stayed quiet a moment longer than normal, painfully so. These silences were nothing new. She'd started to expect them. On Mother's day, on Father's day, on Christmas, on Thanksgiving, but also moments like these, where she didn't know she would be missing parents until she was in the moment. 

''Does your family live far away?'' Natasha asked carefully.

''Sort of.''

She put her muffin down and uncrossed her arms. ''Let me help you carry the rest up. I can't possibly let you walk back and forth countless times while I take a nap,'' she joked lightheartedly.

''Oh, no, it's okay. Really. You don't have to help me," Katya refused, not in the mood for pity. But Natasha stood up straight and tied her beautiful hair into a perfect messy bun.

''Well, I want to," she said with a tone so definitive that Katya lost all her will to protest. "And I'm not taking no for an answer.'' She looked ready to tackle a big job. Hands on her Lululemon shorts-clad hips, sports shoes on her feet. And those lean arms…they could surely carry a few boxes.

Katya considered it for a moment, and then nodded. It would be nice to have some help. ''Okay then.'' Natasha flashed her a big smile.

Somehow, she faced none of the struggles from before—having to parkour her way through the halls. People seemed to get out of their way for Natasha, driven by some invisible force that must have been her confident aura.

Katya felt entirely unworthy to be walking next to her. They attracted lots of eyes, and the reason they looked at them certainly wasn't her red, sweaty face. Nobody noticed a dull brunette next to a redheaded goddess in gym shorts and a crop top. 

Natasha didn't seem to notice anything. She kept talking to Katya, completely comfortable yapping to someone she'd only met five minutes ago, while Katya tried not to let her gay panic turn into real, uncontrollable panic. She only heard half of what her roommate was saying.

''Hey, Nat!''

They were in the quad, a huge field of grass between the main campus buildings. Today, the main path was lined with stalls full of information and help. If someone couldn't find their dorm or there was another problem, they could visit here. 

A guy, looking older than her, had called Natasha's name from one of the stands, his hand in the air to grab her attention. Katya's first instinct was; football player. He had the build for it.

''Jason!" She smiled, not stopping to talk to him. "How are you?''

He was the fourth guy to greet her like that. Like he knew her. They all looked vastly different—though good-looking—and they all looked older. Some closer to twenty-four than eighteen. It was odd. Where did she know all of them from? Katya was starting to gain suspicions that her roommate may be more well-known around here than she thought.

"So, what's your thing?" Natasha asked suddenly. Katya had been brooding over her roommate's popularity so hard that she didn't realize she'd fallen silent. Or that they were close to the parking lot. 

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"What are you here for?" Natasha clarified, smiling when she still saw the confusion on Katya's face. "Law and dance, that's my thing. Studying law, and I'll be trying out for the dance team."

Katya didn't find this surprising at all. Natasha looked like that kind of person who could do it both. Arts and literature. Body and brains. Someone good at absolutely everything. It also explained her subtle muscles and lean figure. Of course, the gorgeous, popular girl was a dancer. What were the chances she was a cheerleader in high school?

"Of course, you are." Katya paled when she realized the words had escaped her.

Natasha smirked amusedly. "What does that mean?"

"Nothing," Katya said quickly. Her roommate's need to fluster her all the time was starting to get on her nerves. She fiddled with her car keys, smiling nervously. "I'm not as interesting as you, I'm afraid."

Natasha tilted her head, her eyes sparkling with something flirty. "You interest me."

Heat rose on Katya's cheeks once more. She kept getting caught off guard by Natasha's simple yet effective smooth-talking. Everything she said seemed to have some sort of double meaning. Her body could not keep up with its reactions.

"History is my thing. History and literature. But the literature is just a hobby," she said awkwardly, trying to hide her red cheeks. Her studies and hobbies always sounded boring to begin with, but next to Natasha's they looked even worse. Katya grimaced. "I told you it's boring."

"No, it's not!" Natasha rushed to reassure her. "I've always envied people who could quote Hemmingway off the top of their heads. Are you one of those people?"

"Kind of." Katya smiled shyly when she realized that Natasha was being genuine. 

"That's cool." The redhead smiled. "Everyone has their own interests, don't be embarrassed of yours."

Katya wasn't used to the conversation going this way. It was a breath of fresh air. "Most people think it's lame," she said as she popped the trunk of her terribly plain and old Honda Civic.

Natasha shrugged, picking up the first box she saw. "People will always have opinions, so you are better off just doing what you like."

"Can't disagree." Katya smiled at her. Would things finally be different? Would she finally fit in somewhere? The day started off with lots of frustration but now the future looked very hopeful. Maybe she would finally feel at home somewhere.

It took the both of them three trips to get everything upstairs, after which Katya bought Natasha an iced coffee to thank her. She was drinking that as she scrolled on her phone and absentmindedly talked to Katya while Katya unpacked her stuff. 

Everything she had was in these boxes, her whole life. She had no family to store anything with, so all of it had to fit within the four walls of this room. There was some odd stuff in some of these boxes. But Natasha didn't ask her about anything. Overall, she had been nothing but considerate and an amazing roommate.

"This campus is full of disgusting boys."

Katya jumped. She had her back turned to the door, and with the business in the hallway hadn't heard someone stop in their doorway. It was a small blonde with her hands in her pockets. She looked annoyed, bored and disgusted all at the same time, like a moody teenager. Questionably, Katya looked at Natasha.

The woman sighed and put her phone down. "Kat, meet my little sister, Yelena. Yelena, this is Katya, my roommate."

As if she was only now realizing there was another person in the room, the blonde—Yelena—looked at Katya. Then she let out the loudest gasp. "Oh my god, they put you with a nerd." She laughed.

Katya blushed and looked away. That's not the first time she's heard that. In fact, people all throughout her life had taken the liberty of calling her that. It wasn't her looks per se—she didn't wear braces, outdated clothes, or thick-rimmed glasses. She was a normal kid, in normal clothes, with a delicate, modern-looking pair of glasses balancing on her nose. And, if Katya might say so herself, she wasn't ugly.

No, it was the things she did and liked that put a sticker on her. First of all, her introvertness and her shyness. It had gotten a lot better with age. She didn't stutter or stumble over her words as much anymore, but her shy nature stayed. It made that she never quite fit in with anyone. She didn't have big friend groups or hang around the popular kids. She usually had one good friend who she could sit in peaceful silence with.

Then there were the books, the literature, the movies she watched. Katya realized very young that she was different from the other girls in her class. She preferred the works of writers long gone, liked her movies black and white, and would rather spend her Friday afternoon reading than going to parties. They bullied her for having her lunch break in the library, reading alone, for getting an A on every test. Her interest lay with history, not with the latest Hollywood gossip. 

It shouldn't get to her, but in their cores, everyone wanted to belong, to be liked. She couldn't simply turn off her human instinct.

Natasha's hands curled into fists, and it looked like she was going to explode on her sister, until an older woman stepped into the room. Her hair was so dark brown it nearly looked black, and her face held a stern expression. She was also incredibly gorgeous. "Yelena Belova! That is not how I raised you!"

Yelena cringed. "Sorry, Mama," she muttered.

The woman's scowl disappeared as she turned to Katya, a warm, motherly smile appearing on her face instead. "Hello, my dear. I'm Melina, Natasha's mother. Please excuse my rude daughter. I promise I raised them both better than that."

A warm feeling flushed through Katya's body. "It's okay, ma'am. Natasha helped me carry the rest of my stuff up from my car."

"Good girl." Melina smiled proudly at her daughter. Natasha rolled her eyes, clearly not at ease with her family around a stranger. "If you don't need us anymore, Yelena and I will be leaving."

"Yes, please take her out of here." 

Anger flashed across Yelena's face. "I sacrificed my free day for you, you ungrateful—"

"Girls!" Melina sighed, shaking her head. With pity, she looked at Katya. "I wish you luck with her, my dear—"

"What does that mean?" Natasha exclaimed.

"---and be nice to each other. Natasha, if you need me, I'm just a call away."

"And just a town away." She rolled her green eyes again. "No need for emotional goodbyes."

"Well, I am gonna miss you."

"I'm not," Yelena mumbled under her breath, smiling innocently when her mother glared at her.

Natasha sighed and started to walk them out the door. Like a dog herding sheep. Katya tried not to laugh as Melina and Yelena stumbled over each other into the hallway. "Mhm, goodbye now. Thank you for helping me today." Natasha closed the door in their faces, locking it for good measure. A pleasant silence filled the room. "I'm sorry about her."

"It's alright." Katya shrugged, though her brain was still trying to process what just happened. "I'm used to being called a nerd. It's not an insult."

"She meant it as one. She's a dick." Natasha chewed on her lip, clearly ashamed and embarrassed of her sister's behavior. It meant a lot to Katya that it mattered so much to her.

"It's okay, Natasha, really." 

The redhead smiled carefully. "Melina is probably yelling at her now, though."

Katya laughed. "Their faces as you pushed them out the door..."

"If I hadn't, they would still be standing here, arguing." Natasha returned to her bed, falling back into the same position as before they were rudely interrupted. It already felt so domestic, so comfortable. They could exist together and do their own thing without bothering the other.

"Your sister is completely different from you, isn't she?" Katya asked as she continued her unpacking.

"Yes and no. She's more moody, sassy, rude." Katya chuckled when Natasha rolled her eyes. "But she's driven, hard working, and incredibly loyal to the people she loves. She will fight someone for you... Literally… She loves punching people."

Katya laughed. "She sounds like a good sister to have."

"She'll do." Natasha suddenly perked up, like someone flipped the switch of focus in her brain. Smirking, she studied the boxes on Katya's side of the room. "So, in which one of those is your lingerie?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Orientation had broken Katya's brain. She'd gotten so much information at once that she literally had a headache. A bad one. Add that to a bad night of sleep—only four hours in total because of her new surroundings and anxiety—and she was ready to crash.

She unlocked her door and stumbled into the room, not surprised to see it empty. Natasha's shoes were gone and her bed was made. From what Katya learned yesterday, she seemed to know a lot of people, so she was undoubtedly chatting with every person she ran into. Maybe she wouldn't even return until late. At least Katya had her number.

She took advantage of Natasha's absence to take a long shower. Then she drew the curtains closed and laid down for a nap, her headache already subsiding after chugging two glasses of water. Her eyelids were so heavy, sleep tugged on her brain… 

When her phone rang. 

Katya let out the loudest groan, hurting her head in the process. Who dared to interrupt her nap? Ideally, she would have ignored it, but it could be Natasha or somebody else important. Blindly, she felt around until her fingers wrapped around her phone, her eyes squinting against the bright light to read the name on the screen. 

Tony.

Yep, that made sense. That man always had the worst timing. 

"What?" Katya snapped.

"What a way to greet me. Are you busy?" He gasped dramatically, then lowered his voice. "Wait, are you finally getting laid?"

Katya sighed, the tips of her ears burning. Ever since he stopped seeing her as a kid, he was trying to get her laid. Unsuccessfully. "No."

"Then you got time for me. Did you get settled in?" 

"If you were actually here to help me, you would have known," she said accusingly. "But you're too busy slutting yourself out in Miami."

"Going on holidays is important," Tony said casually. Katya rolled her eyes. He wasn't vacationing, he was partying and drinking. Club music boomed in the background of the call. His classes didn't start for another week. "You know what's also important? If your roommate is hot."

Katya groaned, reaching for the curtain to tug it open. She was so glad this was not a FaceTime call, or he would have seen how red her face was. "I'm not entertaining you with an answer."

"So she is." His stupid grin could be heard in his voice. She wanted to slap him. "What's her name?"

Katya hesitated. Whenever she told him about her crushes, Tony would go and mingle. It wouldn't be the first time he scared one away, but if she didn't tell him now, he would show up next week on her doorstep. Even worse. "Natasha," she answered reluctantly. "You wouldn't like her, she's ginger."

"Wait. A Natasha with red hair? Does she have big tits and a great ass?"

As much as Katya wanted to yell at him for objectifying women, she couldn't help but blush. Of course, her gay ass had not been able to resist taking a look at Natasha's body. Subtly and respectfully, of course. Her thoughts had not been subtle or respectful though, but they were safely inside her head so it was okay. She wasn't that kind of person.

"She looks great, yes."

Exactly at that moment, Natasha freaking Romanoff herself burst through the door, looking incredible as always. Denim shorts, tank top, messy ponytail—Katya's heart skipped a beat. Nobody should look that good after a full day of walking around in the late summer heat. God, she was a mess for her. 

"Who looks great?" Natasha smirked, dropping her bag to the ground. "Some girl at orientation already grabbed your attention?"

"Uh—I…no. There's nobody," Katya stammered, watching wide-eyed as Natasha took the hair tie out her hair and shook all those gorgeous curls loose. Her biceps flexed subtly when she fluffed it up.

"Uhu. Better give me a chance too before you set your sights on someone," Natasha teased.

Katya's breath caught in her throat. Was she dreaming? "Y-You?"

"Yeah. Unless you're not into girls." Natasha smiled smugly when she glanced at Katya's stunned expression. "I thought so. Me too."

If this were a cartoon, Katya's eyeballs would have bulged out of her head. Surely, she was dreaming now. There was no way this was reality. "You're gay?"

Natasha shrugged, grabbing a towel from the cabinet. "I'm a little bit of everything. As long as it's hot and kissable, I'm kissing it." She smirked, and then she closed the bathroom door behind her like she hadn't just turned Katya's whole world upside down.

There was an error in her brain. Her brain had flatlined. Open-mouthed, Katya stared at the door her roommate had disappeared through. She was sweating. Did Natasha seriously just say that she is into girls and she wants a shot with her? Was her headache actually a stroke and was she hallucinating? 

"Shut the fuck up. Your roommate is Natasha Romanoff?" 

Katya jumped. She'd completely forgotten that she was on the phone with Tony, and that he just heard everything. Her heart was racing in her chest. "Is that supposed to mean anything to me?"

He sighed. "You're hopeless. You need to get out more. She has a reputation for crashing college parties since she was 15. She's basically a legend."

It all made sense now. The guys who knew her, her popularity, why she knew her way around campus so well. She cuddled up with college guys while she was still in high school. 

How in the world did Katya, a nerd, get matched up with someone like what? Some funny forces were at play here. Someone up there must be laughing very hard.

"Okay, bye now." She just caught the start of Tony's protests when she cut off the call. She loved him, but she needed a moment to process these developments, and his endless yapping in her ear did not let her think clearly. 

He came into her life at a time where she needed someone the most. Orphaned since birth, Katya grew up in orphanages across the country. The last one she lived in, from age thirteen to literally last week, she met him. He'd protected her on the first day, when some older guys bullied her, and from there, he'd become her big brother. She saw him as that, too; family. Did he know Natasha personally?

Katya panicked when the shower turned off in the other room. Like, had a full-on silent panic attack. Not enough time had passed to process anything or to calm down. She couldn't face Natasha again. Not yet. What if she continued the conversation where it left off?

Quickly, she dived for her laptop and headphones, and put on the first TV show she could find. When Natasha came out of the bathroom, she didn't even spare her a glance. It was possibly the best performance of her life, pretending she was interested in her show and her heart wasn't pounding in her ears.

But Katya looked at her from the corner of her eye whenever she could, trying to figure out what the hell she was doing. Natasha seemed to be getting ready for something. She did her makeup and spent at least ten minutes in front of her closet, trying to figure out what to wear. Katya's eyes widened when she came out of the bathroom in a short, tight party dress later. There were curves and skin everywhere.

Frowning, Katya slid her headphones off. "Are you going somewhere?"

Natasha smiled over her shoulder, slipping her earrings in. Her eyes looked incredibly bright with the dark eyeshadow around it. Mesmerizing. "There's a welcome-back party in the Kappa Delta Psi house." 

"Aren't those for older students?"

Amusement flickered across the redhead's face. "I have a fake ID." She grabbed a pair of heels from under her bed and slipped those on too. They made her toned legs look incredible, miles long. Katya tried not to drool. "You should come."

Katya quickly shook her head, her anxiety surging at the thought of a college party. "Oh, no, thank you. Parties are not really my thing."

Natasha chuckled, a beautiful sound that sent the butterflies in Katya's stomach into a frenzy. "Alright. I'll be back late. Don't wait up." She swung her small purse over her shoulder and set out for the door. Her beautiful hair swung left and right over her exposed back, her pale skin glowing in the light of the setting sun. She looked ethereal. Katya called her name before she decided to.

"Nat?"

With her hand hovering above the doorknob, Natasha looked back. "Yes?"

Katya wanted to tell her that she looked beautiful. That her hair was amazing, that her makeup was flawless, that the dress fit her perfectly. That she was the most beautiful woman she'd ever seen. But the moment she opened her mouth, she chickened out. "Have fun."

A bright smile curled on her dark red lips. "Thanks."

[lcverwrites]

bad for business ― aegon x reader, aemond x reader (modern au)

summary … aemond sees something he wasn't supposed to...or was he? pairings … aegon targaryen x tyrell!reader, aemond targaryen x tyrell!reader warnings ... smut, unprotected sex, voyeurism, public sex, aemond being a but of a creep (but not non-con), aegon being a little shit, unhealthy family dynamics note … here's a little something that i cooked up a bit ago, i've been working on possibly making this some kind of series between aegon x reader x aemond, so let me know if you wanna see a possible part two!

⠀⠀⠀Aemond's hand clenched around the brass handle, the cool metal biting the rough texture of his palm, but the cold was the last thing on his mind.

The lighting was dim in the room, muted almost, a sconce on the wall offered a shimmer of yellow light, enough for Aemond's good eye to lock onto the two bodies pressed against the pale wall.

Perhaps he should have known.

Should have realised what he might have been walking into, when his mother asked him to go searching for his missing brother. An inkling of mockery lingering in the back of his mind, taunting him with the logical thought of the kind of person his brother was.

And there was a small part of Aemond that hoped his brother was just running behind, fiddling with his appearance, as he often is.

But nothing could have prepared his mind for the sight before him.

Aegon's dishevelled dress shirt was untucked from his black suit pants, unbuttoned and half pushed down his shoulders. Aemond could only see his brother's back, the once crisp white shirt, was wrinkled beyond repair.

But that was only the first thing Aemond noticed.

The second was the smooth leg wrapped around his brother's waist. Barely a glimpse of green silk slithered around the leg, the fabric was so dark that one might have mistaken it for black, but Aemond knew that dark emerald green colour well. Strapped to the foot, of the leg wrapped around his brother's leg, was an elegant black heel, glimmering diamonds adorning the strap of the shoe.

The third, and most important piece of the picture, was the woman Aegon had slanted himself against, the woman who was pressed to the cream coloured wall.

Her slender neck was on full display, head thrown back against the wall beneath her back, full lips parted as a pleased cry fell past her puffy pink lips. The dip of her neck was covered by a chain of diamonds, catching in the yellow light, looking like pools of crystal water around her smooth skin. The chain dipped lower on her skin, curving past her collarbones, slipping below the neckline of the green silk of her dress, resting between the valley of her breast, each deep breath caused her chest to raise, the blood red jewel glowing against her skin.

For whatever reason, Aemond couldn't have imagined this...couldn't have imagined her, the sweetest of flowers, beneath his brother's undeserving hands.

Aegon had his face pressed into her slender neck, mouthing at the smooth skin, faint red marks were etched into her skin, no thanks to Aegon's ravenous attentions. Aegon's once nicely styled hairdo had been ruffled, her fingers threaded in Aegon's ivory strands, tugging him into her body, welcoming his unholy behaviour.

Aegon's hands were wrapped around her waist, palming at the silk covered skin on her waist, nails threatening to tear the flimsy fabric, from where he was stranding, Aemond knew she wouldn’t have protested. The other hand was caressing the smooth skin of her thigh, pushing the fabric of her skirt from his way, allowing more of her skin to be exposed, more for Aegon to get his hands on.

The sound of her breathy whimpers echoed through the empty hall, accompanied with the rhythm of skin meeting skin, slow and methodical slapping that ricocheted off the bare walls.

Aemond could not see where the pair were joined, but the sound was enough for him to know, the pleased look on her face was enough of a sight, Aemond didn’t need to see anymore.

The moment he seemingly made his decision, he watched his brother whisper quiet words into her ear, lips wrapping around the gentle slope of her ear, the light catching the matching red jewels dangling from her ears for a split second, as Aegon’s lips brushed against her ear, her panting stuttered, eyes fluttering open slowly, as if she were remembering where she was, slowing, her head tilted forward.

And in a heart racing moment, her eyes locked with Aemond’s.

Her lips were parted, a sulled moan fell past her lips, but her full attention was now directed on Aemond.

“Fuck” Her voice was breathless, the words barely reached Aemond’s ears, but he knew she was doing it for his benefit.

The grip she had on Aegon’s cropped strands of pale hair tightened, burying his face into the supple skin of her breasts, his lips lapped at the cleavage spilling from beneath her dress, nipples perked and pushing against the now taunt green silk.

“Please” Her voice was louder now, carrying the short length across the hall, allowing Aemond to hear the plea.

Her pleas went straight through Aemond, sinking into his skin, digging her nails beneath the surface and refusing to budge until she drew every last breath from his lungs.

And Aemond knew he would do anything for her.

Her pleasured features were all Aemond could focus on, her eyes were sharp and focused, pupils dilated, clouded with a lustfulled expression. Despite her attention being solely on Aemond, she pulled Aegon closer, her hips canting up to meet his rhythmic thrusts.

As if she were taunting him.

Keeping him at arm's length, while she drew his brother closer, allowing him to destroy the elegant facade she’s painted.

“I want to cum for you, please” She sighed, her lips pursed into a pretty pout, allowing Aemond to take in the abused way his brother had attacked the supple skin, red, raw and utterly alluring.

Only she could look dishevelled, yet sensually elegant at the same time.

He knew he should just close the door, allow the couple their moment alone, and confront them once they were finished, but Aemond couldn’t seem to pick his feet up, rooted to the tacky blue carpet beneath his polished dress shoes.

Not when she was begging for him.

She was being fucked by Aegon, but begging for Aemond.

The irony made him want to laugh, throw his brother from her body and capture her lips for his own, fuck her the way she deserved, not against a wall in a dimly lit hallway, he’d have the decency to worship her where no one else could see her. Allow her to invade his senses, breath in her scent, taste her skin, feel her smooth body beneath his roughened palms, watch as she falls apart by his hand and his hand alone, devour her in a manner that would have her unable to speak anything but his name, like a pray on her lips, for his ears only to hear.

His grip on the door handle grounded his imagination, bringing him back to earth, where he watched her be brought to the precipice of pleasure by another man.

Fate was a cruel woman.

“I want it inside me, I want you inside me” She purred into Aegon’s ear, but her eyes were still on Aemond, inviting him into her inner thoughts, her pleasures, her fantasies…her fantasies of him.

Aemond’s breath hitched in the back of his throat as her face changed, it was subtle, a subdued moan slipped past her lips, catching in the back of her throat. Her brows furrowed slightly, like her focus was slipping away, barely holding on by her fingertips. Her head tilted back, like she wasn’t in control of her body anymore, responding to the rapid motion of Aegon’s hips, drilling faster against her body, shaking her breasts with each bounce, threatening a mouth watering escape. Despite her body moving of his own accord, she kept her hooded gaze on Aemond, as pleasured shocks ran through her body, allowing him a glimpse at this intimate moment.

With Aemond’s watchful gaze keeping close attention to her, she allowed herself to fall off the edge of her pleasure, diving head first into euphoria. The sounds falling from her lips shook Aemond to his core, he felt his slacks tighten, yearning to hear more, to feel more…to feel her.

It was a whimper of a muffled curse, a loud string of pleasured moans, gasping for a breath she couldn’t quite catch, her body tightening, drawing Aegon closer to her, bringing him further into her orbit.

Aegon’s lips twitched into an amused smirk, muttering a few words against her cleavage, words that her faltering for a moment, as if not expecting him to say whatever it was he said.

Her delayed reactions took a moment to really take in what Aegon had said, and he was clearly enjoying taking her off guard, as if he didn’t do it all that often. But the moment of taken abackness washed away, being replaced with a pleading pout.

“Give it to me, please, please” She murmured in a sultry tone, the words spilling from her lips, begging for something Aemond wasn’t privy to.

She made sure to keep eye contact with Aemond as she uttered the next words, and Aemond was lucky he didn’t burst in his dress pants.

“I want you to cum inside me” She pressed the words into Aegon’s ears, but loud enough for Aemond to hear them, to know she was addressing him too. “I want it so bad, please give it to me, please”

Aegon groaned loudly, his hips stilling against her own, her lips ghosting over his reddened cheeks.

Aemond could make out the soft smile tugging at the corners of her lips, amusement painting her flushed features, and to top it all off, she gave Aemond a subtle wink, as if she and he were in on some sort of secret.

Had she really been talking to him, it wasn’t just him imagining it?

“Enjoy the show brother?” Aegon’s lazy drawl entered Aemond’s mind, causing the man to look at his older brother, who was casting a sidelong glance at him, a lazy smirk stretching across his mouth.

“Funny” Aemond hummed gruffly.

He straightened out his shoulders, standing taller than Aegon, ever from where he was standing. He held his hands behind his back, pressing his chest out a little, looking down his nose at his brother, who looked thoroughly amused by his attempt at looking intimidating.

“Mother is looking for you” Aemond’s monotone voice echoed through the hall, the only noise in the empty corridor now.

Aegon let out an amused hum, looking back at her. She offered Aegon a gentle smile, before looking at Aemond, her smile widened and she gave him a soft shrug.

“Sorry, we got a little caught up” She replied in a soft voice, sweet as honey.

“Very caught up” Aegon echoed, a teasing tone to his words.

He finally removed his hand from her thigh, allowing her leg to drop from around his waist. There was a moment where Aemond can only assume Aegon was removing his cock from her, only through the soft squelching sound that followed. A soft giggle passed her lips, cheeks turning a soft pink as she flattened her dress, to look as if she hadn’t just been taken up against a wall.

“Feel free to watch brother, she’s a very pretty girl” Aegon spoke again, zipping up his trousers, while she tried her best to smooth out the wrinkles in his dress shirt, buttoning the shirt up as she moved along.

“Stop it Aegon, leave him alone” She chastised, but her eyes trailed back to Aemond, biting her lips softly as she tried to stifle her smile.

“You can watch” Aegon reiterated, turning around to face Aemond.

His shirt was buttoned up, looking less dishevelled than before, but still not as presentable as he knew their mother would have wanted. She saddled herself to Aegon’s side, sliding an arm around Aegon’s waist, holding herself to his side. Aegon returned the favour by wrapping his arm around her shoulder, fiddling with the thin strap of her dress, as if deciding on actually leaving the room, or going to another round.

“But you know to keep your hands to yourself” Aegon finished, giving Aemond a wide and toothy grin that would have come across as charming, if one didn’t know Aegon well.

It was coated with malice, a warning, to stay away from what was his.

But was she really his, if she was asking for Aemond’s cock?