#but I have learned so much about myself! and although I can’t go about making art in exactly the same way that I used to

[danxiously]

just escaped from cryosleep (autistic burnout) and im seeking creative fuel (your ocs/drawing requests)

[ko-eko-ev-go-ms]

It continues to trip me up how much human brains are just weird organic computers

[vividxpages]

✩‧˚౨ৎ˚✩₊ The Great War PART 2₊✩‧˚౨ৎ˚✩‧

PART 1 + PART 3

pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!Reader

words: 2800

summary: after meeting Jace by the shore of the sea in secret, the Blacks do everything to reunite the two of you. But will you make it to him safely? And how much are you both willing to risk for each other?

warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, arguments and tears, kissing, happy ending

a/n: Part 1 has gotten such love, I needed to write a little sequel. Hope you like it <3

𓆩♡𓆪

Always remember Uh-huh, tears on the letter I vowed not to cry anymore If we survived the Great War

It was like every cell of your being was fueled with fire when you returned to King’s Landing much later that night. Vignettes of the beach and Jace were replaying themselves in your mind, making you walk towards your chambers as if in a trance.

You had seen him again.

You had kissed him goodbye as if it was your last time, although he had whispered promises into your ear that it wouldn’t be. Be alert, stay safe, he had said to you between those last breathless kisses. Mother and I will figure out something.

You smiled to yourself, feeling as if the world suddenly looked just a little brighter, although the corridor in front of you was only lit by torches on the wall.

If had been any more concentrated, you would’ve seen him first.

A shadow slipped from the darkness and before you could scream out or even blink, your older brother had pushed you against the hard stone wall, caging you in and scanning your face with his one remaining eye.

“Taking a walk at midnight, sister?” Aemond rasped out and you wanted to squirm away from him, the sudden unpleasant encounter washing all those happy moments from before away. As you tried to slip past him, he caught your wrist so hard, it hurt.

“Let go of me, Aemond.” You gritted your teeth, struggling against his much stronger hold of you.

“What would mother say if she heard you were without a chaperone, hm?” He challenged you, a cruel smile on his face. “Or even worse…what will our great king say if he learns you’ve been with the enemy?”

Everything in you froze at his implication.

You stared at him with wide eyes, heavily breathing. “I have no idea what you are talking about.” You finally ripped your hand free and resisted the urge to caress the burn in your wrist. This would come later, in the safety of your chambers.

Suddenly, you became painfully aware of how you looked. The disheveled hair, rosy cheeks from the cold by the sea, plump lips bruised from kissing… At least, Jace had been careful enough not to leave purple blue flowers on your neck.

Aemond regarded you with an unreadable expression, crossing his hands behind his back. “I’m not saying anything, since you surely are reminded your place and have not crossed paths with our enemies, am I right, dear sister? But if I catch you riding your dragon to where Vhagar can’t have an eye on you, I’ll shoot you out of the sky myself.”

You stared at each other for a very long time. You hated how mute you were always becoming in your brother’s presence, how powerless they both made you feel, like every bravery Jacaerys had breathed into you had suddenly vanished. A flame blown out by ice cold wind.

“Sleep well.” Aemond whispered before he walked away from you.

With each of his leaving steps, you could breathe a little more freely.

ㅤ♡☁︎⋆｡˚

The following weeks only continued to darken the clouds on your horizon.

A concerning new routine found its way into your days, sleeping in late and staying in bed as you watched the grey sky outside your window. Food you only accepted when you really needed to and although your mother gave you concerning and sometimes scolding looks, no one really cared about how you spent your meaningless days.

You had not attended council and you didn’t believe Aegon was going to let you again any time soon. Helaena sometimes visited you, but she spoke in riddles and could not comfort you. The only person who could haunted your dreams and was miles and miles away, across the Blackwater Bay and out of reach.

Jace had told you to be patient and alert, but it was getting harder to get out of bed every day.

“An afternoon refreshment, my princess.”

You looked away from your window, just as the servant turned away from you and left the room. On the table near your bed, a plate of small cakes and fruit waited for you and in the middle of it, was a small roll of parchment.

You furrowed your brows. No one in the castle sent messages to you.

You slowly unrolled it, your eyes reading over the words written, but not quite understanding them yet.

Tomorrow night. We’ll stage a distraction. North gate. We’ll meet you over the Gullet.

Your head snapped up and hope filled your chest once more.

♡☁︎⋆｡˚

You squinted your eyes once more as you looked over your shoulder, the massive fire at the feet of the Red Keep painting the night red. The Blacks had outdone themselves; every eye of the city was looking towards the destruction the flames caused.

How poetic. You were leaving your home behind unseen, unheard, while it burned.

You focused on the way ahead of you, the dark sea underneath you and your dragon sparkling underneath the moonlight. You concentrated on the rhythmical wing swing and the prospect of arriving at Dragonstone soon, once again reunited with Jacaerys. Forever this time.

You were not coming back. The next time you’d face your family, you would stand on the other side of this war. And you were ready for it.

But so was Aemond.

A giant beast suddenly busted through the clouds beneath you, your scream being swallowed by Vhagar’s roar as Aemond stirred her towards you. You threw yourself to the right, barely slipping past her giant maw as it snapped shut only inches away from your dragon’s wing.

You heard Aemond screaming your name in fury.

“Naejot!“ You screamed, urging your dragon on to go faster, impossibly faster than the beast chasing you. Your heart was pounding all the way up into your throat as you heard Vhagar roaring behind you. One command from Aemond and you’d fall into the ocean like a burned star. You silently prayed the Gullet was almost under you, praying for just another day, just one more-

“Dracarys!”

You braced yourself, thinking of the dark eyes you had loved so much one more time.

But the dragon fire did not come.

Not for you, at least.

♡☁︎⋆｡˚

You still had no idea how Rhaenys had reached you in time or why Aemond had decided to flee then.

Perhaps, you were not worth the fight.

You would’ve never thought to be so thankful at such an idea.

You barely had the time to thank Rhaenys before you had been led through the darkness around Dragonstone, still needing to stay invisible until you had reached the safety inside those walls.

And once you reached them, Jacaerys was there, pulling you tightly against his chest and holding you as if you could simply vanish with the wind every second. You had allowed him to look you over, still shaken and with your mind still on this disastrous flight before he had led you to the hall where his parents had been anxiously waiting.

When you had sat down and his hand had slipped out of yours, you already wanted it back.

But first, they needed to know what had happened out there.

You still couldn’t believe your brother had really wanted to kill you.

After you had finished, Daemon sympathetically pushed over his goblet with wine and you gratefully took it and resisted the urge to chug it back in one gulp.

“How could this have happened?” Jace had been thundering for a while now, walking up and down the room, tense and still out of his mind with worry for you. “Our sources have told us Vhagar has been away from King’s Landing earlier today.”

It seemed like not even the queen had an answer for it.

But you had. You sat up a little straighter, biting your lip before you looked into the flames next to you and spoke. “Aemond has been getting suspicious. He knew of our meeting by the sea and…he had warned me not to pursue it again.”

Rhaenyra and Daemon looked at you with surprise, but Jace was a whole different story.

“What?” He looked at you with wild disbelief. “So you are telling me you’ve went out tonight even though you knew Aemond could’ve caught you and done what not to you?”

“What do you think I should’ve done instead?” You asked him quietly, barely a whisper.

He fixed you with a wide-eyed stare, his fingers trembling as he raked them through his curls. “Perhaps not shown up to our invitation if you knew Aemond was suspicious?” He suggested shakingly. “We would’ve found another way without risking your life.”

“There is no other way, Jace!” You shot back, just as hot-headed as he was now. Rhaenyra and Daemon shared a look over the table, perhaps thinking of their own heated discussions in the past. You drew the blanket you had been given tighter around yourself, taming your tongue. “I would’ve died in that castle, one way or another. I might as well could’ve tried to reach you before my end.”

“Do not talk of such things.” Jace whispered, shaking his head. You saw his brown eyes getting teary at the mere thought of it. “Do not-“

“It doesn’t matter now-“

“It matters to me!” He exploded and you leaned back, shocked at his sudden outburst.

“Alright, that’s enough.” Rhaenyra said calmly, jaw tense. “I think this night has been eventful enough for the two of you. We will deal with everything in the morning, but now I believe you should retire. Jace’s room has been readied for the two of you. We are glad to have you with us here, my dear, we truly are.”

The tension could’ve been cut with a knife as you walked back to Jacaerys’ room.

You had started to shiver, the wet strands of your hair clinging to your neck, clothes ruined and dirty by the stormy weather between the clouds. When the door closed behind you and you took off the blanket, you hissed with pain.

“What is it?” Jace looked at you, alarmed. “Are you hurt?”

You shook your head. “Not really, but…I think when I took a turn in the sky, one of the reigns came loose and cut me.” It would explain the burning pain in your shoulder. When you tried to raise your arm to take a look, a sudden whimper tore through you.

Jace was in front of you in an instant, steadying you as he intently looked at your face. “Don’t move too much. I’ll take a look at it, okay?”

“It’s fine…” You did not feel fine.

“Let me help.” Jace said, adding in a whisper: “Please.”

It was quiet once again between you as he slowly led you to the edge of his bed. It would’ve been romantic if you hadn’t been such a mess, but Jacaerys did not seem to care about your appearance. He walked around his room with a mission, collecting a warm washcloth from the basin and a bandage, just in case.

You watched him silently as he went on his knee in front of you and slowly started to peel away your rider’s jacket from your shoulder. You breathed through your teeth as the fabric came away bloody, the burn of the rope worse than you had expected. Now, with the adrenaline leaving your body, the pain came knocking at your door.

Jace grimaced at your pain, intertwining your hand with one of his own as the other gently began to dab at the cut, making you wince with every little motion. “Sorry.” He mumbled, his thumb brushing soothingly over your palm. “It looks like the bleeding has stopped some time ago. That’s good.”

You nodded, still mute and exhausted as you let him take care of you. You almost wanted to sink back into his sheets and simply disappear in them.

“I’m sorry for losing my temper like this.” He said quietly after a while as he wrung out the cloth into the small basin to his feet. “I should’ve stayed composed, especially after the night you had. You are braver than all of us, ñuha jorrāeliarzy. I just- I could never forgive myself if something happened to you. We were thoughtless with this idea and impulsive and-“

“And I am glad of it.” You interrupted him softly. You argued with yourself if you should tell him how you had slowly rotted away in King’s Landing, withering without his light and the love his family embraced you with.

“You’ve gotten hurt.” He interjected gravely.

“Which wasn’t your fault.”

“But-“

You raised a hand, wanting to cup his cheek, but quickly stopped when it burned.

Jace was still kneeling in front of you, taking your hand in his and bringing it to his lips so he could softly kiss your knuckles. You could almost smell how worried he was about you, how he was still battling with himself, making himself think this was his fault. He brushed back a lost curl from your face and smiled sadly. “I forget myself. You’ve had a long journey. I do not want you to suffer even more, I’ll go fetch a Maester.”

“It’s only a scratch.” You joked tiredly, which earned you a doubting look. “Please, Jace. I’ll be fine until morning. I just need you. I’ve longed to be with you like this again for so long.”

“I’ve missed you too.” He said hoarsely, slowly rising to his feet, adoration burning in his eyes. “I could barely stay calm all day. Perhaps I’ve dreamed up that you’re here now.  If so, I never want to wake up again.”

You smiled at him, a real smile this time. “Then I’ll be dreaming with you, Jace.”

And finally, you could see a smile on his face too. “I will get some clothes for you.”

Quietness came down on the room once more, the comfortable kind this time.

You watched from the bed as Jace rummaged through his closet and pulled out one of his longer tunics, all warm cotton and his scent coating it. He helped you with your shoes, insisting that you should not move a finger anymore tonight. He lovingly kissed your ankles and took the most care that you wouldn’t have to lift your injured arm too much as he slid the piece of clothing over your form.

“There.” He looked at you warmly as you shuffled back into the sheets. “Gods, I have missed seeing you in my clothes. My bed.”

The words sent a shiver down your spine, although you knew you did not have the strength anymore to do exactly what you wanted to do with him. Your muscles were sore and your bandaged shoulder only good for one night, but you knew Jace was going to wait a lifetime for you if he had to.

Perhaps a whole lifetime laid ahead for the two of you now.

You nestled yourself against his chest as he slipped beneath the covers with you, sighing happily as your head fit perfectly into the place where his neck met his strong shoulder. A dark curl was tickling your forehead and as he closed his arms around you, one leg shifting to fit between your thigh, you knew you were home.

You listened to the sound of him breathing, your bruised hearts slowly calming down until you were sure they were beating in sync. Only a few candles by the bed lit the room and you felt yourself slowly drift into a well-deserved sleep.

But there was one thing still tormenting your love’s mind.

“It’s just…” Jacaerys whispered into the darkness of his room. You could feel him swallow tightly, his fingers trying to calm himself by caressing your spine. “Tonight made me think of Luke. And knowing you’ve been up there, with Vhagar so close to you- I can’t lose you, my love. I can’t.”

You shuffled until you could look at him, chest aching at the unshed tears in his beautiful eyes.

“You won’t lose me.” You promised him, wiping away his tears. “You will never lose me, Jace, I promise you. I’m here now and I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

He sniffled, but nodded fiercely. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You whispered and lifted his chin so you could kiss him.

The kiss by the beach had grown into a wildfire, untamed and fueled by the desperation of wanting each other for so long. This one made you dizzy for a different reason.

There was a final calmness to it as your lips softly moved against each other, tasting every second like the world only slowed down for you. It was slow and relishing, like the first breath of fresh air after a lifetime of holding your breath. Your nose brushed against his as your hand found its way into his curls and if your shoulder had been any healthier, he would’ve hoisted you into his lap.

But unlike the other times you had come together, you had all the time in the world now.

And tomorrow, the sun would rise and shine just a little brighter, because you had finally found each other.

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

(I'm writing a third and final part 3, so let me know if anyone would like to be tagged when I post it 🥰🎀)

[sigma-alpha-writer-chad]

Grow Up, Would You? [Josh Washington]

“I don’t know if you’ve changed any since middle school but I really hope you’ve learned the difference between pranking somebody and just being a fucking bully.”

You can also find this story on Ao3!

Chapter One / Chapter Two / Chapter Three

[CHAPTER TWO]

CW: Marijuanna use

“Chris, I’m not so sure about this,” I mumble, crossing my arms as I follow my cousin down the forest trail. “Things are just going to get super awkward.”

“Then just… don’t talk to him. Can’t be that hard, right?” Chris responds. I can tell that he knows as well as I do that Josh himself would do whatever it takes to get under my skin in any given circumstance.

“It’s his house,” I retort.

“It’s Hannah’s get together,” he replies. “She knows how you guys are, hopefully she’ll get him off your ass.” I say nothing. "Just..." Chris stops walking and turns around to look me in the eyes.

"What?"

"Just please try to get along?" He asks. His expression is serious and pleading. I sigh, heavily. Why wasn't he on my side? Why can't Josh try to get along with me?

"Sure, Chris," I relent. "I'll... do my best." Chris smiles at me appreciatively and continues down the trail. I hate this. I don't want to be walked over, I don't want to be the doormat or the verbal punching bag for whoever was in a bad mood that day - especially Josh's. But I didn't want to ruin everybody else's good mood, either. If no one else sees a problem, why am I so upset?

The autumn trees towered above us, providing shelter from the warm sun – although some warmth would be appreciated as the temperatures dropped lower by the day. I’d only been to the Washington house before for some rager of a graduation party, when the sky was dark. With the sun, however, the gorgeous forest could make me almost forget I was on a death march to the lair of my enemy.

Chris and I finally make it to the porch of the Washington home. He turns to me, as if to say “after you!” I hold my arms tighter to my body and shake my head. So, after a roll of the eyes, he knocks. There’s a muffled call from the other side to let us know someone was coming to let us in. Just my luck, Joshua opens the door.

“What are you, Chris, a vampire? Gotta be invited in, now?” Josh jokes, a wide grin on his face.

“I’m with Jordan,” Chris says, as if clarifying. Josh looks over Chris’s shoulder to see me. I swear I see his smile widen, and I can only think that can’t be good.

“You can leave her outside, Chris, no worries,” Josh snickers as he steps aside, holding open the door for Chris and I. As I walk past, I nod and offer a gentle thanks. “You’re welcome, pet.” Immediately, Chris sighs as if he knows whats coming. He knows I want to say something – but the guilt I feel in my chest for ruining every good mood keeps me from speaking. Instead, I just give him a hurt, frustrated look.

Josh seems surprised. Next to the shock, though, is a flash of an emotion I can’t quite catch. It’s Josh, however. So I didn’t much care. I walked into the living room, where everyone else was waiting. Hannah stands up and hurries to greet me, walking straight past Chris to pull me into a hug.

“Ahh, thank you for coming! I’m glad you could make it!”

“Oh, uhm, thank you!” I pause. “For inviting me, I mean. You have a lovely home.” I give an awkward bow, staring wide-eyed at the floor. You’re so fucking weird, what are you doing?! I scold myself. I know they’re thinking it, too, but I once again push the negative thoughts away.

“We’re gonna head down to the basement,” Hannah says, smiling as if I hadn’t just made the most awkward air possible. “Do you smoke?” I’m taken by surprise. Chris, Josh, and everyone else walks past Hannah and I and towards the stairs.

“Smoke?” I repeat. “What, like, weed?” Hannah giggles.

“Yes, like, weed,” she says.

“Yeah, sometimes. Not often, though.”

“Great! We have weed.”

“Sounds… good.” A part of me is relieved. Maybe with something in my system I’ll be able to relax for once. Especially around Josh. I feel a burning anger in my chest at just the thought of him. Hannah takes my hand firmly and begins to lead me to the stairs the others had gone down. I make a mental note that the twins both really seem to like holding hands. Not that I minded. It just wasn’t that common for someone to take your hand in theirs when showing you around their house.

We get to the basement, and it’s noticeably colder. And massive. My eyebrows raise as I look around the room. There’s a huge TV mounted on the wall, a large circular wooden table in the middle of the room on a round, purple rug. Around the table for seating were two L couches, and on the couches were Hannah’s friends. Not everyone, though.

Matt, Sam, and Jess were missing, leaving just Ashley, Mike, and his girlfriend Emily, who was casually sitting on his lap. Next to Mike and Emily, Chris unsurprisingly had sat next to Ashley, leaving the other couch to Hannah, Beth, Joshua and I. For a moment I wondered if this could be some kind of set up. Hannah quickly left my side to sit next to Beth on the furthest end of the couch. On the other side was, of course, Joshua, rolling a joint. And, of course, the only open seat was next to him.

And he knew it.

I didn’t want to be rude or, again, make things awkward. And so, I sat next to Joshua Washington. It’s here, watching him focused on something that I suddenly realize how tired he looks. The underside of his eyes were dark, as if he hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep in days.

“Like what you see?” Josh smiles, eyebrows raised. I frown in response.

“No.” I immediately regret this as the vibe is instantly brought down by my rude answer. “I mean, like, not NO, but I just mean I didn’t -”

“Calm down, girl, I’m just… just JOSHING ya,” he laughs. I roll my eyes but I can’t help the small smile that hints at my face. Josh’s head snapped to his sisters, mouth wide open in a smile as if he can’t believe I was capable of anything but a straight face or a frown. “I made her smile!” He whisper yells. I hate it, but it makes it harder to keep the smile down. Somehow I manage not to fully grin.

“Alright, you first, Mike,” Josh says, handing the dark haired boy the joint. Mike takes a long drag and shotguns it to Emily. My lip twitches, threatening to make an obvious sneer at the strong PDA.

“Ohh, spicey,” I hear Josh laugh. “Chris and Ashley next.” Ashley and Chris immediately chime in in a chorus of no’s. Chris takes the joint and takes a hit. I notice his hands are shaking. The idea of his lips so close to Ashley’s is more than it appears he can take. I can hear Josh continue to laugh to himself as Ashley is handed the joint.

“So, what’s the plan for the winter this year?” Beth says, her face shining with excitement. “Are you guys coming?” Mike and Emily look away from each other, their teasing and giggling cut short by Beth’s question. Despite the unhappy look on Emily’s face, she answers. Ashley passes the joint to Hannah.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, hon,” she smiles, but it looks forced and sarcastic, even. I furrow my eyebrows in confusion as to why she’s here – and why does she keep getting invited? Mike nods next to her, a smile on his handsome face. He seems much more laid back and agreeable than his girlfriend, who I notice is looking me up and down. “Do you have a problem or something, weird girl?” I’m taken aback at the sudden confrontation and I sit up straight. My heart begins to pound. Hannah passes the joint to Beth.

“No, I don’t. I was just -”

“Staring at me like some sort of creep? Yeah, I saw. I saw you look at my man, too. What’s up? You want him?”

“What? No, I -”

“You can’t have him. So eyes off, bitch.” I clench my jaw, hard. I swear I almost cracked a tooth.

"Emily -" Mike starts, his eyebrows furrowed in frustration and embarrassment. He shoots me a worried, apologetic look.

"No, it's fine," I say, staring Emily directly in the eyes. As I expected, she takes it as a challenge. "I looked at you, yeah. When you're sucking face like that it's hard to ignore." Beth passes the joint to Josh.

"Well, keep looking." Emily hisses, throwing her arms around Mike and holding his neck tightly. I wonder if he can breathe. I clear my throat and look up at Chris. His eyes are already a bit droopier, but through his mild high he still looks back at me with a sort of pity and embarrassment that I just can't stand.

Josh hands me the joint.

"Go on, take a big drag, babydoll," Josh grins at me. I frown at him. He did nothing wrong, but I still can't help but feel like he's making fun of me in some way. Still, I ignore the nickname. I know he's just trying to get under my skin, yet I can feel the tips of my ears heat up in embarrassment. I side-eye Josh as I put the blunt in between my lips. He's staring at me as if he's studying me, his ever present smile missing from his face, eyes half closed. He couldn't be high that quickly, could he?

As he suggested, I take a long drag, adding a bit of 'coolness' by French inhaling.

"Oh, so cool, I've never seen that before," Emily says sarcastically. I ignore her as I pass the weed back to Mike. Mike doesn't look at me as he takes it, instead glaring at Emily. I can tell he's embarrassed by her cruelty.

I don't hate Mike. He's never been my favorite person in the world, but he's never done anything to me or that I've seen that could make me dislike him other than his habit of... Well, women. However, I could tell that despite her attitude Mike saw something beneath that and really did care about Emily. He was handsome, I could never deny that. Thick, dark hair and brown eyes, a chiseled jaw and a decent body to match. The more time I spent near him the more I understood that he really wasn't a stereotypical 'high school hot guy.' Mr. Class President. He locks eyes with me and gives me an awkward smile. I can sense an apology in his expression. I want to return a look, but I quicky shift my gaze before Emily catches on to the telepathic conversation.

As we continue the rotation, the conversation of their winter plans continues on. I listen, but I don't contribute due to my lack of invitation. I look around me, and everyone looks happy and content. I can feel my own high start to creep up under my eyes, and I can't help but smile to myself. It was pleasant. Even though these were people I didn't yet consider friends outside of Chris, Beth, and Hannah, I didn't feel completely out of place in this moment. I felt content for the first time in a long time.

An hour passes.

"Hey, I'm sorry, where's your bathroom?" I ask. I start to think I might be greening out and I needed a moment to myself. Josh turns to me, a dopey grin on his face.

"The bathroom?" He asks. I smile back at him.

"Yeah, the bathroom."

"What for?" Josh scoots closer as if to hear me better.

"I'm getting anxious, I think," I admit. This surprises me. Why would I tell Josh I'm anxious? So he can make it worse? Instead of poking fun at me and telling everyone to look, his smile fades slightly and his eyebrows twitch in what looks like concern.

"Anxious? Are you ok?"

"I'm greening," I say, widening my eyes for a moment to exaggerate. Josh takes my hand.

"I will escort you to the bathroom," he says, standing up. "It's kind of a maze, this house." He's smiling at me. Even under the influence I can't help but search for any sign of malicious intent. My anxiety spikes further. What does he have planned?

"Can't you just tell me how to get there?" I ask, though I stand with him anyway.

"Yeah, but you'll get lost."

"Joshua Washington," Hannah starts, her tone that of a parent warning their child. "You better not upset her or I swear..."

"Yeah!" Beth chimes in.

"Awe, guys, give me a chance! Give me a chance..." He trails off, beginning to lead me to the stairs, still holding my hand. When we're further away, I inform him that my hand was still in his. "Oh, can I just keep holding it? Your hands are just so soft." I say nothing. How do I respond to that? Is this some sort of joke?

"Your hands are calloused," is all I can muster.

"Oh, man, is that bad?"

"No."

We stand in front of a door. I assume it's the bathroom but I can't think clearly. Josh just stares at me. I ask him if this is the bathroom. He says nothing. He's expressionless.

"You seem anxious around me, do I make you anxious?"

"Is this the bathroom?" I ask. Silence. My heart is pounding. What is he trying to do? Embarrass me? He's staring into my very being. Of course he makes me anxious.

"...yeah." He steps aside, opening the door for me. He suddenly seems sober. I feel a pang of guilt as I walk past him and into the bathroom. Why? I stare at myself in the mirror, studying my own features. I'm not wearing any makeup, but I kind of wish I did. Maybe some mascara, or something. My cheeks and the tips of my ears were a light red, my flustered state obvious. As I observe myself, my mind wanders to the people out there, in the basement. Chris seems to really enjoy their company. Outside of Emily and Josh, I do too. Yet I still can't help but question it all.

Did they see me as a charity case? They never invited me to anything before, no texts after I'd moved. The friendship or my classmates was utterly and completely out of nowhere. Why did Beth and Hannah invite me? My pupils are dilated. I look tired. My eyes water. Will I be invited again? I think I hope so.

A knock on the door makes me jump.

"Are you ok in there?"

"It's been like, 10 seconds."

"It's been like, 10 minutes, J." Had it really been that long? There was no way. J? I find myself wondering where such a familiar sounding nickname came from.

"Are you timing me?" I ask.

"No," he answers. "I'm not." A beat of silence.

"Have you been waiting for me this whole time?" Josh doesn't answer. After a moment of silence, he knocks again.

"Are you ok in there?" I roll my eyes and sigh in frustration, opening the door and stepping out. Well, trying to. Josh is standing directly in the opening and I bump into him, hard, but he doesn't stumble. He grabs both my shoulders as if to hold me still, keep me from falling over. I only notice now he's taller than me by a few inches, my eyes in line with his mouth.

"Yeah," I say, frozen in place. He's touching me

Why is he touching me? Why? His grip loosens, noticing how tense I am.

"You were just in there for a while, and," he paused, taking a step back. "I dunno, sometimes people cry at get togethers or whatever." I chew on my lower lip. I had almost cried. "It would've been a major bummer, or whatever."

"Do I look like I was crying?"

"Yes." I'm taken aback, lifting my hands to my face. Sure enough, my cheeks are wet with what can only be tears.

"How would - how would you know?" Now it's his turn to be embarrassed. He takes another step back from me as he looks at the wall to my left, shifting his weight. Is he nervous?

"...I've seen you cry a lot."

"Oh. Right." The silence is deafening. "Let's go back downstairs." I wipe my face dry with the sleeves of my sweater. "Thanks for showing me where the bathroom is." I try to change the subject. He says nothing, only offering me a nod this time. He doesn't take my hand.

"Next time you're on your own." He huffs, turning on his heel and walking quickly away from me and back towards the basement. I'm taken aback by the sudden shift in attitude but I bite my tongue. I promised Chris I would do my best to get along with Josh, and I intended to keep it. But damn was it difficult.

Back into the basement, Josh is already sat and smoking. I furrow my eyebrows. Did he have to be high to tolerate my presence? I shake the thought from my head and take my place next to him. He shifts, scooting slightly further away from me. My chest fills with a deep, rumbling anger, and I grip the sides of the couch tightly. I didn't do anything to him.

"You'll be coming, right, Jordan?" Beth asks. I snap out of my thoughts and lean forward to see her over her brother, who stiffens.

"What? Coming to what?" I ask. Beth smiles and rolls her eyes playfully. I can hear Emily snicker and Mike sigh at her in mild frustration, saying her name as if in a warning - again. Chris is watching Josh, his eyes seemingly scanning for something.

"Our parents own a lodge up on a mountain," Hannah answers for Beth. "In the winter we all spend a few days up there. No parents, if you were wondering."

"And you're invited," Beth butts in. "It would be rude of us to talk about it so much in front of you if we didn't plan on taking you along." I'm passed the blunt, but I don't hit it this time. I'm high enough.

"Uh, well, I don't know," I start, chewing at my bottom lip. I glance at Josh, who is staring at me intensely. The sudden eye contact kind of freaks me out. I look at Chris, who shrugs at me, his expression wide eyed and clueless. Emily rolls her eyes, and the twins look at me expectantly. "I... I don't think I would be any fun." My heart pounds. I don't want to spend time trapped on a mountain for days near Joshua Washington. I would expect to wake up one morning with my mattress somehow moved outside as a "joke."

"What? Why?"

"I'm just not a partier." I gulp. I look again at Chris. I can't tell what he's thinking. Does he want me to come? Does he think I'll ruin it for him? For everyone?

I think I would.

"Jordan, please. Just think about it?" Hannah pleads, standing up from her place on the couch to crouch down in front of me like a parent talking to their child. I can feel Josh's gaze boring into me, telling me I'd better not dare to say yes. My eyes snap to his, my head unmoving.

If you come to the lodge I will make your life hell.

The anger in me bubbles and burns to the point of pain, my jaw clenching. I can't help but think about how many times I'd missed out on something because Joshua Washington would be there or even nearby. How many tears have I shed over this asshole? And now what? Now he thought he could control me?

"Jordan?" Hannah repeats. I know she can see the staring battle between Josh and I.

"You know what, Hannah?" I start. Something in Josh's expression changes. The warning is still there, but now there's something else. Shock? Admiration?

"Yeah?" Hannah starts to smile, though there's a hint of nervousness to it. I wonder if regret ever creeped into her head.

Fear?

I don't know. But I know I'm done with agreeing to be put down and pushed around for the comfort of others. If Joshua Washington wanted a battle he sure as hell would get one, though this time there was no winning for him. I'm not laying down anymore. I turn my head so I'm fully facing him. His expression shifts further towards surprise and realization that something was different.

"I'll be there."

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

Whoo!! Sorry for the wait! Thank you for your patience.

Taglist: @sc4rrc @mattymxmo @cellyx33 @jenepleurepasbaby

[tinygrove]

Decent Man Pt.1

The second part

Pairing: Cregan Stark/fem!reader

Author's Note: I've decided to split this into 2 parts just to give myself a chance to work on the ending but I was eager to get something written. This is the first fanfiction I've wrote, or at least posted on this account so I hope it's not too bad.

Summary: You're newly wed to Lord Stark after having only been courted for barely a month. Although the anxieties of having to perform as a 'royal' wife start to eat at you, Cregan proves to be a decent husband.

You must have done it, how else would you be alone in his chambers. Blocking out all the noise and going through the motions would only get you so far. You couldn’t even remember the vows. Lord Stark had arranged for there to be no bedding ceremony, perhaps an act of mercy. You’ve heard some lords complain they simply want their lady wives all to themselves, untouched and unspoiled. You were neither. You weren’t sure if your Lord husband was either. 

You hadn’t learned much about him during your courting, not that it lasted long. Your father practically jumped at the opportunity for a stronger alliance to the most powerful house in the North. It must have appeased Lord Stark as well, seeing how quickly he’d agreed to the marriage, it had barely taken place a fortnight after you’d met. Now though, you were in his room, none to accompany you but your ladies in waiting. A few had come with you from your own keep, or rather your fathers. And one or two had been appointed to you since coming to Winterfell to stay. You could hardly form the words to tell them you could undress yourself. Maybe it was the cloak weighing you down, making it harder to breath the harsh winter air. You let it slip off your shoulders and yet you still feel heavy, a weight in your chest and a hard lump in your throat. 

Hearing the thick wooden door swing open and shut after heavy footfalls and quick scurrying of feet made the pit in your stomach sink even lower. “Are you well?” He asked, definitely due to your silent stewing. The whole night you’ve been lost in your own thoughts. 

“Yes, I am well, thank you.” You force a courteous smile to you face, although more brief and sour than you’d intended. You figure you’ll have to do a lot more of that in the coming years. “You do not look well.” Your not sure he says so in a demeaning way, more so that he’s seen through your flimsy facade. Or maybe he’s focused on the way your hands desperately seek purchase on your gown as your eyes start to brim with tears. You can’t control it when they start to spill. 

“There is no need for us to,” He gestures between you with a sigh, trying to supplement actions for words. “Consummate the marriage tonight, if you do not wish it.” He tries to search your eyes for any sort of answer but you avoid his gaze. “Did you hear-” 

“Let’s just get it over with.” You say, voice low and wavering with all it’s strength to keep it from cracking. Another stray tear falls down your cheek as you reach behind yourself for the laces of your gown but two large hands hold your arms still. 

“You truly think so little of me? That I would– Like I said, there is no need to consummate the marriage tonight.” He brings your arms out from behind your back, holding your chilled hands in his. His fingers and palms are calloused, yet his grip gentle. “I barely had a chance to court you before we wed, perhaps we might come to know each other before; that.” Your eyes flicker down to where his hands encompass yours, and he quickly recedes after catching on but strangely, you find yourself missing his warmth. 

As your eyes find his once more he continues. “I shall have a few ladies in your service prepare a chamber for you. I know you’ve not had space for your things but I assure you they’ve been taken care of. In the mean time though you’ll need to take your rest here.” He turns to make for the door and surprisingly a part of you longs for him to stay. The brief bit of kindness he’s shown to you is more than you can say for those that attended your wedding. Your father truly had not exaggerated the icy attitude of those in the North. Lord Stark however, to see his wintry exterior slowly melt away has made it almost impossible to detest him. “I will see you on the morrow, my lady.” He opens the door and a cold breeze comes over you, yet you don’t shiver, the cold only emboldens you. “Thank you, Lord Stark, for your kindness.” your voice is somewhat steady now, no longer fighting an imminent sob. He nods at your words, “Cregan will do just fine, my lady.” You’re alone now and the chill is gone. All the warmth radiating from the hearth is slowly becoming too much to bear even as it smolders to embers. The absence of your Lord husband leaves you feeling alone now, more than you’ve ever been.

[3igbootyl0ver]

A New Face (Pt.4) | Home

pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

summary: after eight months, you and Tara are closer than ever. Her playful texts pull you away from a project, and you spend the night cuddling, reassuring her you're not going anywhere.

word count: 981

a/n: hi guys this is literally so short bc I didn't want to ruin it + I'm already working on another part for who hurt you. this can read as a oneshot by itself hence the extra title; anyways I hope u guys like it, any feedback is appreciated and I'm proud of myself for figuring out how to do this collage thing below xoxo

Pt.1 | Pt.2 | Pt.3

It’s been 8 months since you and Tara went on your first date and started dating; since then, you’ve shared countless memories, learned more about each other than you ever expected, and your bond only has deepened, making you both excited to see what the future holds together. There’s been a mix of growth, fun and intimate moments; and although there’s a few challenges, there’s always playfulness and banter in the relationship. 

Tonight, you’re focused on finishing your project, eager to submit it at least a day before the deadline so you won’t have to rush and send in poor quality work. But then, a ping on your phone distracts you.

Tara <3

can you come over? i miss you and I’m bored

Sent at 11.45pm

You

sorry babe, I can’t. i have a project due in a few days

Sent at 11.47pm

Tara <3

guess i’ll just sit in bed..alone,cold

all by myself

w nobody to cuddle with. allll alone

You

oh shut up I’m putting my shoes on

Sent at 11.55pm

This usual banter happens often. Honestly, you didn’t mind how clingy Tara is, you knew what the younger Carpenter has been through. She decided to let you know about her past after a month of dating, with what happened to her and the core four a year ago; and you comforted her with cuddles and kisses with soft whispers for being brave and having to go through all of that.

It’s almost midnight, but the way Tara’s playful messages cut through the tranquil night, it’s hard not to smile. You know her well enough to recognize when she’s pretending to be dramatic—and when she’s genuinely feeling a little lonely or vulnerable.The little banter between the two of you has become a ritual, a comfort. But beneath it all, there’s that deep understanding of each other’s lives, pasts, and fears. You know Tara’s history, and you know she’s been through a lot. You could never understand how anyone would willingly put her in harms way. A single glance from her could make you melt into a puddle, as if the weight of the world disappeared in the softness of her eyes, leaving you both grounded and utterly undone at the same time.

 You know that when you get to her place, all the tension in your body will melt away. As you head out, a small part of you can’t help but reflect on how far you’ve both come in just eight months—how much you’ve both grown together. Every little moment, where you can simply drop everything and be there for each other, makes all the difference.

Tara’s got a special place in your heart, and tonight, it’s all about making her feel seen, heard, and loved. For so long, the idea of "home" felt like a distant concept, something that belonged to a life you couldn’t fully reclaim after your parents passed. You thought you’d never feel settled again, that kind of deep connection, the feeling of being truly seen and understood. But with Tara, it’s different. It’s effortless, the way she makes you feel both grounded and free. Her presence fills spaces in your heart you didn’t know were empty.

As you may your way to her place, a soft smile tugs at the corner of your lips. It’s funny how simply being with her, in her space, cuddling under the blankets, or sharing small moments of laughter, feels more like home than anything else ever has. When you knock on her door, she’s already standing there, as if she already felt your presence from a block away; wrapped in a blanket, her hair falling messily around her face, and that familiar twinkle of mischief in her eyes. “You’re late,” she teases, her voice a soft mixture of playfulness and a hint of relief. Ever since you both got together, Tara’s been more anxious, fearing that Ghostface might pop out and take you from her. She’s expressed her concerns to you, and you’ve made sure to constantly remind her that you aren’t going anywhere. “I’m not going anywhere, Tara— you’re stuck with me, no matter what.” Besides, you don’t mind constantly texting her and sending pictures of whatever you’re up to.

“Lay with me? Please?” You fold almost instantly, allowing her to pull you into her bedroom while making sure to keep quiet, since Sam is asleep. Just as you settle onto her bed beside her, Tara does her little grabby hands and you pull her against you, her legs over yours and hugged your torso, resting her head and smiling into your shoulder, inhaling your scent as she had always associated you with safety. You smiled fondly, caressing her thigh with your hand before leaning forward to place a kiss on her forehead. Tara’s eyes fluttered at the gesture, and you can feel your heart soar at how adorable she is.

“I love you, so, so much. Did you know that?” You whispered close to her forehead. The warmth of your whisper sent a gentle shiver down her spine. “I know, but I don’t mind hearing you say it again, and again..” You chuckled softly at her statement.

“I don’t mind it either, because I’ll keep saying it; every day if I have to” You smiled softly, the words lingering between you.

Before you could say more, she pressed her lips to yours, soft and gentle—the familiar taste of cherry from her lip balm making you sigh in content. The kiss was warm, comforting, like coming home. When she pulled back, her eyes fluttered open, a shy smile tugging at her corner of her lips. “I love you more,” she whispered, her breath mingling with yours.

It was safe to say that you didn’t manage to finish your project anytime soon. But with Tara in your arms, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

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

a/n: i hope this is enough for ya'll bc i literally couldn't figure out a way to continue without it being too draggy and boring. fyi 'who hurt you' pt 2 should be coming out in 2 days hopefully idk AND idk how this taglist thing works so lmk if you'd be interested in it

taglist: @bella423

[bohoteacher]

Navigating Betrayal: Reconciling Admiration with Disillusionment

Like many Neil Gaiman fans this month, I've been shocked and distressed by the news regarding the SA allegations. I won't go over the details, as they're readily available online. I'll start by saying that I believe the accusers, and even the most lenient interpretation of events is still troubling enough to discredit Gaiman. For a long time, I didn't know what to say. I was just shocked and, somewhat naively, felt betrayed. I don't typically idolize actors, authors, or other public figures—I'm here for the characters, they're who I love and believe in. So, how did I end up believing in this man and his rhetoric?

I only had a parasocial relationship with him, which is to say no real relationship at all. But I took his Masterclass on writing, spent hours taking notes, and learned from him. I feel betrayed by someone I saw as a beloved teacher. I know this is insignificant compared to what the women who came forward experienced, but it's a valid feeling, and I needed time to process it. My initial reaction was to throw out and discount everything he’s ever written or done—of course it was.

This isn't just about my love for Good Omens, although how can it not be? I learned so much from this man—about writing, about not being too hard on myself, about the creative process. I read his books to my middle school classes, and we all learned how to be better people from them. Today, I saw and bought Instructions, a children’s book by Neil Gaiman illustrated by Charles Vess, from the used bookstore where I volunteer. It was a used copy, so no royalties will go to him. It’s a beautifully illustrated book where the main character walks through a land that clearly symbolizes life, learning lessons like saying please and "if any creature cries to you that it hurts, if you can, ease its pain." How could someone write this and then do what he did? I asked myself. "What an evil hypocrite," was my first thought. But then I recalled a line from another author, Stephen King. In The Stand, a character is described as "awake at the lectern, but asleep at the switch," meaning they know the right thing to do and can talk about it, but in the moment of choice, they act without integrity.

I don’t know if I’m making sense, but I think it’s too easy to label Gaiman as simply evil, as if he intentionally manipulated us by saying the right things just to make us read or watch his creations. The reality is likely far more complicated. Within this man is the amazing, thought-provoking, life-affirming wisdom that many of us have tried to live by, but also the hard, thoughtless, selfish cruelty that led him to abuse young, vulnerable women. The wisdom does not justify the abuse, and the abuse does not nullify the wisdom.

I think it's too simplistic to say Gaiman is despicable and always has been, hiding it from us all along. This doesn't acknowledge the complexity of human nature—that there is potential for both good and bad within us all. As it’s said, possibly by Terry Pratchett or possibly by Neil Gaiman, “It may help to understand human affairs to be clear that most of the great triumphs and tragedies of history are caused, not by people being fundamentally good or fundamentally bad, but by people being fundamentally people.”

Gaiman is a man who has done some fundamentally good things and some fundamentally bad things. I can’t forget either one.

This is just my opinion. I know some people want to cancel him, while others want to exonerate him. You do you. As for me, I will continue to love Aziraphale and Crowley. I will continue to read and create fan-fiction. I will continue to find comfort and wisdom in books that have meant so much to me over the years. But I will also remember that they were created by a very flawed man whom I can no longer trust.

I understand that opinions on this matter vary widely. I know some people might feel that not discarding everything associated with him is wrong, but this is where I stand. I’m not looking to debate this or be told how I should react. I just needed to process my thoughts in writing and move forward in the way that feels right for me.

[thatoneweirdgirl17]

Okay I came up with this at work because I was left alone with my thoughts for 10 hrs.

Imagine a feyd x single mom reader except the baby is Paul’s. Reader used to be a servant in caladan and eventually her and Paul messed around, she approached lady Jessica in confidence for help but instead got sold off because Paul getting a servant girl pregnant was not part of her plan. Later feyd kinda saves reader from the a-hole who bought her but in reality he was there to kill the guy for betraying the baron and saw reader and decided he wanted her. He finds out she’s already pregnant but instead of killing her of getting rid of her he kinda hides her away so he can have his own secret lil family (maybe as a way to cope with the childhood that was stolen from him). Feyd has his harpies protect and hide her and the baby and over time the girls bond (baby is having the worlds most protective and feral aunties). Eventually reader tell feyd who the baby’s dad is and explains how she ended up at the a-holes house. Feyd finds the situation hilarious but still decides to protect reader and raise the baby as his own (not really out of love but more as a jab at Paul like haha I have your toys but they do eventually grow to care about each other, maybe not love but definitely a codependency). When the baby is born he immediately becomes attached to her (I must protect this tiny creature) which is a new emotion to him.For a couple of years baby girl grows up seeing feyd as her dad. Eventually the events of dune happen and right before Paul is about to stab him, feyd says something along the lines “ go ahead and kill me in front of your daughter”. Paul is understandingly confused until a lil 4-5 year old comes running out to feyd screaming daddy and using the voice to make Paul back off. Everyone can instantly see who her biological father is since she has his hair, eyes and is able to use the voice. Feyd would definitely have a shit eating grin when Paul learns that his mother is the reason his daughter grew up without him. Paul tries to approach her but she turns her head and says to feyd “daddy I wanna go home” and Paul’s heart just breaks at the realization that he lost his daughter before he even knew about her. Paul can’t kill Feyd since he would loose his daughter even more and they basically create a custody agreement where Paul can come and visit her every month.

Please if someone turns this into a fic tag me so I can read🙏

Edit: I am planning on writing this out but give me some time since it will be my first fanfic since high school

@dreamlandcreations @triluvial @austinbutlerslovers @sansaorgana @purejasmine @sebastianswallows

Update

I finally had time to start writing this and although it’s my first fic I’m really proud of it. I ended up making a second account with the intent to only post fics there to make things easier for myself. If you’re interested in reading I’ll add a link under this.

[dumbseee]

exposed.

f1 au: in which, you’re secretly dating carlos sainz but your boyfriend is very bad at social media.

carlos sainz jr x reader.

fc: shay mitchell.

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, danielricciardo and 790 097 others.

carlossainz55: just learned what a photo dump is so here’s one.

_

landonorris: he’s never beating the grandpa allegations guys…

fan1: OKAY YOU LOOK GOOD CARLOS BUT WHO IS THAT ON THE THIRD SLIDE???

fan2: since when does he have a girlfriend?

fan3: i’m not really surprised but at the same time i am bc wtf

fan4: didn’t see this one coming

fan5: not everyone completely ignoring the cute selfies he posted and focusing on that mysterious girl

danielricciardo: i know someone who’s going to sleep on the couch tonight.

liked by charlottesiine, lilymhe, carlossainz55 and 349 987 others.

y/n: thank you for having me @.vanityfair i had a great time.

_

lilymhe: such a pretty girl

liked by y/n.

charlottesiine: i am this close 🤏🏼 to ditch charles for you babe

charles_leclerc: @.y/n pls stay away from my girlfriend.

fan1: the girls and charles commenting on this 👀

fan2: carlos liked the post 👀

fan3: @.fan2 they’ve been friends since childhood, she’s a spanish socialite, her dad owns a law firm.

fan4: idk if she’s carlos’ mysterious gf but she’s stunning

fan5: people really think that y/n l/n, heir of a whole empire built for centuries and billionaire is going to date a driver?

fan6: @.fan5 as if carlos wasn’t well off himself.

y/n just posted a story!

tagged: @.charlottesiine.

caption: ferrari girls supporting their ferrari boys ♥️

liked by carlossainz55, charlottesiine, charles_leclerc and 3 782 006 others.

y/n: it was fun to see everyone’s theory about who was the mysterious girl in carlos’ post, but i think it’s time for me to reveal myself (although some of y’all already guessed it ;)) this was my first announcement, the second one is now obvious, a mini sainz is on the way and i couldn’t be happier. the fact that the product of our love is soon going to run around the house is still weird to me. but i can’t wait to be a mama, and i can’t wait for you to be a dad, because i know how much you’re going to cherish the little pea that’s growing inside of me.

_

carlossainz55: te quiero mi amor, sorry for being an idiot and exposing us 👀

landonorris: I’M GOING TO BE AN UNCLE

charles_leclerc: congrats! you guys will make perfect parents! (i actually have more trust in y/n)

danielricciardo: no need to ask me to be the godfather, it’s a yes already 😁

fan1: what in the mf

fan2: OMG CONGRATS

fan3: carlos is so dad coded omg this is perfect

fan4: well, this escalated quickly

fan5: carlos is going to be such a great father

[fastandcarlos]

Yeah, Life Is Pretty Good! : ̗̀➛ Carlos Sainz

summary: in which carlos finds himself daydreaming wondering how he managed to achieve such a perfect life

“Have you even been listening to a word that I’ve been saying?” 

The raise in volume of your voice had Carlos’ eyes snapping over in your direction, his eyes going wide. Your head shook, the guilt on his expression clear as he glanced back down at your son who he held tightly in his arms. 

“You weren’t were you?” You sighed, folding your arms in front of his chest. “I swear I might as well talk to myself sometimes with you, what’s been going on with you these days?” 

“Sorry,” Carlos sighed, “what was it that you were saying?” 

You dismissed Carlos as you left your son’s nursery, heading downstairs to get on with some work that you had to do. Carlos felt terrible as he watched you go, having tried his best to listen, but unable to quite concentrate enough. 

“That’s your fault,” Carlos scolded your son, “I can’t help but sit and watch you and that means I don’t hear your mummy.” 

Over the past three weeks since your son arrived, Carlos had felt new emotions that he’d never experienced before. He was overwhelmed, happy, a little bit tired, but above all else, he was so in love. 

Getting used to the newborn stage was exciting for him, each day he was finding out new things about your son, discovering new details or picking up on little habits. He was completely infatuated with his new status as dad, he couldn’t get enough of the massive learning curve. 

“Your mum just doesn’t understand, does she?” Carlos asked your son, “how can anyone not just be completely obsessed with you before anything else?” 

The bright eyes of your son stared up at Carlos, completely unaware of what he was saying. Carlos didn’t seem to mind too much, just getting your son familiar with the sound of his voice was the most important thing to him, knowing they’d have plenty of time for proper conversations in the future. 

You were sure it was the Spanish in him, but whenever Carlos spoke, your son listened. He was fascinated by Carlos’ voice, those little accents and flair that he had already had your son intrigued by him. 

You could already tell they were going to be quite the double act. 

You didn’t seem to mind though, watching Carlos in awe. He’d made no secret of the fact that he wanted to start a family, but even he couldn’t prepare himself for how incredible it would be. Above all else, he couldn’t quite believe just how lucky he got to have the two of you. 

“What do you do to me?” Carlos asked, standing your son up against his thighs. “You don’t even feel guilty for making me an emotional wreck, do you?” 

As he studied your son, Carlos could see himself in him perfectly, he had his eyes, without a shadow of a doubt, knowing he was going to a heartbreaker with those piercing orbs when he was a little bit older. 

Carlos couldn’t wait to teach him so much more about life, all the things his dad taught him, and although he wouldn’t admit it to you, he definitely couldn’t wait to show him all about race cars in the future too. 

He wasn’t quite sure how long the two of them were sat in the nursery for, disturbed by the door opening and you peering through, smiling softly at the scene that you saw unfolding in front of you. 

It was only as you walked in you noticed how Carlos’ bottom lip was stuck out, his eyes slightly bigger than usual, two habits of his you always recognised a sign for when he was feeling a little bit emotional. 

“What’s he done to you?” You laughed, taking a seat beside Carlos. 

Carlos’ head shook as he laid your son back down in his hold, using his now free hand to quickly wipe underneath his eyes and get rid of any tears that might’ve been threatening to spill for him before reaching across and taking a hold of your hand. 

You weren’t letting Carlos get away with things that easily though as you continued to stare at him, silently pushing him to open up to you and let you know what had suddenly got him feeling a little bit teary eyed. 

“Don’t,” Carlos chuckled, feeling you watching over him. “You’re going to laugh at me if I tell you what it is that I’ve been thinking about.” 

“You won’t know unless you tell me?” 

“It’s silly,” Carlos told you, but still you sat in anticipation. “I was just thinking about how amazing life is right now, with you, and of course this one.” 

“That’s not silly in the slightest,” you smiled, shuffling closer towards Carlos. “I think that’s a pretty natural thing to think and feel considering what we’ve just been through.” 

“I never expected life to be this good,” Carlos admitted, finding himself getting a little bit flustered once again. 

Carlos’ feelings were only matched by you, it was an overwhelming experience to say the least. The most amazing thing for you was watching Carlos as a dad, you knew that he was going to be good, but even Carlos surprised you with just how good he was. 

“I’m so proud to say that this is our team,” Carlos smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “It feels like we’re pretty untouchable when it’s the three of us together.” 

Your head nodded in agreement with him, “we always said having a baby would be what completes us, and I think we were absolutely right.” 

“There’s always room for one more,” Carlos replied, watching as your eyes went wide, quickly shaking your head to swat away any ideas that Carlos had. 

You’d only just had one, let alone start thinking about another. Maybe one day you could have those conversations with Carlos again, but for now you, and your body, were more than happy just making the most of having one baby safely with you both. 

“It makes me sad to know that he’s going to grow up,” Carlos spoke, changing the subject. “I wish he could stay this small and adorable forever.” 

Already the two of you were noticing changes, before your very eyes it already felt like your son was growing up at a rapid rate, and he’d only been with you for a couple of weeks. 

“He’s always going to be adorable,” you laughed, “he’s got our genes after all.” 

“That’s true,” Carlos chuckled, his eyes flickering between the two of you. “He’s going to get all the ladies when he’s older, I can already see it.” 

You dreaded to think how you would cope in the future, watching your son grow up, the terrible twos, the tantrums, and the teenage years too. But for now you were both on cloud nine, hoping that you could stay in your bubble for as long as you possibly could. 

“So, life is good then?” You jokingly asked Carlos. 

“Yeah, life is pretty good!” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[dark-fics-4-you]

possible rafe request?! rafes gf makes him mad by being too friendly at an event w wards business partners so he fucks her at the event 😈

Golden Boy

Warnings: domestic violence, noncon, toxic relationship, jealousy,

You chuckled politely, trying not to glare at the thirty-something year old man in front of you. Despite your best efforts, you couldn’t help but put a little venom in your reply, “Well, I actually do have plans outside of my boyfriend. I’m going to college right now, and I’m actually in a paid internship that I got before Rafe and I met.”

The somewhat handsome, but definitely too old to be your type, business partner, whose name you had already forgotten, gave you an annoyed look, not expecting you to respond that way to his poorly hidden dig at you not belonging at this event.

It was true, in some ways. You were far from your side of the island, and no matter how much time you put into your make up and hair or the price tags of the many expensive clothes Rafe had bought you, the Kooks could always sniff out the people who grew up with nothing.

Before he could respond though, you heard your name being called from behind. Peering past the man in front of you, you could see your boyfriend waving at you to come over to him.

You didn’t even bother telling the asshole in front of you that you were exiting the conversation, you just did, quickly returning to Rafe’s side.

“Ugh perfect timing, that guy I was just talking to was a total jerk,” you whispered in his ear as you gave him a hug.

“Baby, didn’t I tell you to try to get along with these guys?” He seemed angry and you could tell that this event was already stressing him out a lot. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides and everything about him was somewhat jittery, like he wasn’t in his right mind.

“I mean, you know I need to look good in front of them while my Dad’s watching. It means a lot to him.” You looked into his eyes at his words and noticed two things. One, Rafe said it meant a lot to his dad, but you knew it was more about how how much it meant to him. And two, his pupils were much wider than they should have been.

Rafe had obviously done some coke before tonight, trying to calm his nerves and give him some confidence, but it was only doing the opposite.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to make you look bad, but I don’t think it’s fair that I can’t defend myself in front of the people here who are looking down on me.” You shot back at him, annoyed for more reasons than one. “I’m being polite to them, but it would probably be easier for me if you were by my side to stop them from being so rude to me.”

You lowered your voice before speaking again, “And also… I don’t think you should be doing so much coke right now.”

Rafe’s burning glare alone was enough to make you regret saying anything, the return of his tight grip on your arm was just a sick formality at this point, reminding you of the previous bruise he had left in that same spot that you had to cover with makeup for this event.

After being with your boyfriend for so long, you knew the lengths he would go to when he felt personally wronged.

You learned very early on that Rafe was never one to hold back on his verbal abuse, and his physical abuse was no different, although he always tried to keep both incredibly private due to the damage that could come to the Cameron name if it ever came out that Ward’s son, the golden boy, was hitting his girlfriend.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, Rafe. I just care for you, that’s all. I promise I’ll be polite to your dad’s friends.” Your meager apology seemed to be good enough for the moment, and your boyfriend gave you a silent nod after staring at you for several unnerving seconds.

“Be polite, don’t share your opinion, and just keep your mouth shut for the most part. Let them talk about themselves, and they’ll probably think it was the best conversation they’ve had all day.” Rafe grumbled, but his mood improved when he tilted your head up, pressing his lips to yours, large hand still resting under your chin. You kissed him back for what you thought was an appropriate amount of time, but when you tried to pull away, he held you in place, tightly wrapping an arm around your waist and forcing you to kiss him back.

By the time he released you, you pulled away to see several people staring at the two of you, and you felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

Rafe was always doing things like that in public when he felt like other men were threatening your relationship, he always needed to prove himself and stake his claim on you. Let everyone there know that you belonged to him.

“Remember what I said sweetheart. Just try to act like you belong here.” He smirked at his obvious jab at the very thing you felt the most self conscious about right now, before he calmly turned heel, approaching another group of stuffy, rich assholes across the large room.

Your huff of frustration must have been loud enough to be heard by someone standing near you, and you nearly jumped out of your skin when you felt a tap on your shoulder.

To your surprise, when you turned around you were greeted by a man who looked to be about your age.

“You’re Y/N, right?” He held out his hand, which you grabbed, giving him a firm handshake, just like Rafe had taught you.

“Yes I am, although I’m not quite sure if we have met before?” You lightheartedly responded.

“Ah, my apologies, you haven’t, I’m James, I work with your boyfriend at Cameron Development. He’s honestly a blast,” the man, James apparently, chuckled as he recalled several stories of work assignments with Rafe. This led to the two of you exchanging several funny work and college tales.

Despite never having met James before, you felt an instant chemistry with him, nothing romantic at all, of course, but you found him very easy to talk to, and to your surprise, after glancing at your watch, you realized that the two of you had been chatting for nearly 25 minutes!

At this realization, your blood instantly ran cold. Where was Rafe? Why hadn’t he checked on you? Had he seen you talking to the same guy for nearly half an hour, clearly enjoying yourself the entire conversation?

As if he could tell that you were thinking of him, Rafe suddenly appeared several yards away from where your conversation with James was taking place. There was a scowl on his face, and you could tell by the way he was advancing on you that he was pissed.

“Hey, Y/N, why don’t I give you my number, just so you have it?” James innocently asked, completely unaware of the anxiety coursing through your veins and the fact that your boyfriend was in earshot, pushing through the small crowd behind him to reach you.

Before you could even open your mouth to politely decline, Rafe was speaking for you, “She’s not interested.”

You didn’t have time to say goodbye, because your boyfriend was dragging you away from your new friend, his grip harshly digging in to your bruised arm.

“What the fuck did I tell you, Y/N?” His voice was even and calculated, but he couldn’t hide the rage simmering beneath the surface.

“You told me to-”

“I told you to get along with them, not to try to get into their pants.” Rafe growled, pushing you into the closest room with a door he could find, which happened to be Ward’s office. You landed on the carpeted floor, wincing in pain when your elbow absorbed most of the fall.

“Rafe, I promise, I was just having a good conversation.” Your voice was beginning to waver, the weight of the situation that you had found yourself in was beginning to sink in. “He’s your coworker, is it so wrong that I talked to him?”

“Stop lying! I know what I saw! You would have to be an idiot to not realize that he’s trying to fuck you too.” You would have been worried that someone could hear your boyfriend berating you, had it not been for the music playing throughout the house, and the thick walls of Ward’s study.

You realized how sad it was that you only knew that because Rafe had now loudly hurled insults at you in every room in the house he could at this point.

The blond stalked towards you, grabbing you by the wrist and yanking you upright. “I mean, did you seriously think I wouldn’t notice? You think that little of me, Y/N?”

“Rafe no, I-”

You felt the air in your lungs disappear as your head snapped to the side, a sharp pain in your cheek blossoming across the now reddened skin.

“You don’t get to talk back to me right now!” Your boyfriend yelled in your face. You had barely processed his slap when you felt him moving you again, although now you felt much more numb.

Numb to Rafe roughly manhandling you before he bent you over his father’s desk, numb to the feeling of the cold, hard wood on your face as Rafe held you down, numb to the feeling of him pushing your fancy dress up and rudely yanking down your panties before harshly pushing two fingers inside you, and numb to the tears that were now spilling onto Ward’s desk.

“Such a fucking slut! You’re soaked,” he darkly chuckled, but there was no hint of humor in his voice. “Is this all for me, or is it for James?” He bitterly wondered aloud, and when you didn’t give him a response fast enough, you cried out at the feeling of him smacking your ass.

“F-for you, Rafe,” you choked out through your tears.

You could hear him removing his belt, the sound of it hitting the floor was enough to trigger your body to begin quaking with fear and anxiety.

“Aw baby,” he cooed, and you flinched when you felt his fingers in your hair, lightly brushing some of it out of your eyes so he could look at you. “Don’t act so scared. I promise I’m not going to hurt you. Well, at least, not until after the party’s over.”

His laughter made you feel sick, but even worse was the shock you felt when Rafe spread your pussy and sheathed himself inside of you without warning.

You saw stars for a few moments, the surprise catching you off guard and he was able to slide deeper into your tight walls.

“Rafe!” You gasped, unable to fight back, as your arms were pinned beneath you, and your boyfriend’s large chest prevented you from moving.

His fingers tangled into your hair, gripping a handful tightly as he pushed your face into the desk. His hips were snapping against your ass, fucking you harder whenever you futilely tried to break from his hold.

Every time you tried to escape mentally, to tear yourself from the reality of what your boyfriend was doing to you, he brought you back, snapping his fingers or groaning your name into your ear as he forced himself deeper into your wet cunt.

You were sure that your hips would be bruised from bumping into Ward’s desk as Rafe fucked you against your will. Another reminder of all the lessons he insisted that he had to teach you by force.

Every sharp thrust was a warning that this was him holding back. This was him being nice. And you knew better than to further aggravate Rafe when he was on a power trip.

And that was exactly what this was all about. The power and privilege that Rafe held over you, that he used to hurt you time and time again, without ever facing any real consequences. This was about reminding you that you belonged to him and at the end of the day, Rafe Cameron was untouchable and unstoppable, the Kook King, the golden boy of one of the richest families in the Outer Banks.

“You are my girlfriend, Y/N,” Rafe growled. “It’s time you started fucking acting like it.”

[daemour]

Dame Blanche Au Péche [C.S]

✿ Pairing: farmhand (again)! San x f! lady! YN

✿ Word count: 1450

✿ Genre: historical au, fluff, smut, light angst

✿ Warnings: none, smut warnings under cut

✿ Summary: Although many lords approach you with the intent of marriage, you only have eyes for one person...your lead farmhand.

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Written for Tipsy Drabbles <3 had this done in july but kept putting off the posting lol. and yes...this was supposed to be posted on daeddy but i put the wrong un on the banner and i dont have the file anymore :(((

-

✿ Smut Warnings: Oral (m), deepthroating, come swallowing, fingering (f), some dirty talk, wall sex, unprotected sex (!! don't do !!), creampie

“I can provide you with so much if you accept my proposal.” The young lord standing before attempts to grasp your hands but you gracefully dodge his touch.

“I have all I need,” you smile, letting your fan rest on your left cheek as you tilt your head ever so slightly. “Thank you for your visit.”

The man frowns and turns to leave, disappointed by his failure. As soon as he disappears from your sight, you look behind you to see your lead farmhand standing just behind the corner. He catches your gaze easily and you wink, slowly opening your fan wide. His face brightens and he turns to leave the other way. You can’t help but to smile at his eagerness, quickly gathering your skirts to follow him shortly after.

This isn’t the first time this has happened. As the only owner of the local peach orchard, and a woman at that, many young men have tried to ask for your hand, hoping to be able to take over the farm.

But like you told the young lord just now, you have everything you need. Your servants help around the house, and your farmhands keep your orchards tidy. And the leader, San, helps you more than you’d care to admit out loud.

As you step into the barn, a hand grabs your waist and spins you around. You giggle as you face a pouting San. “Hello, Mr ‘Everything I Need’,” you lean in to press a kiss to the tip of his nose and he scrunches it up adorably.

“I wish they’d stop proposing,” San mumbles sullenly. “You say ‘no’ everytime. When will they learn?”

You hum, carding your hand through his hair. “Sorry, Sanah. My money is just too tempting for them, but all I’ll do is turn them away. I promise.”

San sighs loudly, his arms tightening around your waist. “I know. I just want to keep you all to myself...”

Instead of replying, you bury your face in San’s hair, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “You’re the only one for me, Sanah,” you soothe him “You’re perfect, San. I couldn’t ever let you go.”

As you speak, you can feel San’s grip on your waist tighten even more as he peppers kisses on the skin of your neck where his head rests.

“Sanah, let me show you how much I care for you, okay? Please?” you hum into his hair.

Before gracing you with a response, his hands find the lacing of your dress and he quickly undoes them to pull the front of your dress down to reveal your breasts. “You wanna show me?” he all but growls. “Then get on your knees.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, you pick up your skirts and sink down, uncaring about the dirt getting on your white gown. With eager unhands you undo San’s belt and pull his half-hard cock out of hisp ants. Before he can say or do anything, you take the tip in your mouth and press your tongue against the tip, tasting the salty precum already beading.

San’s hands fly down to grasp your hair, his fingernails scratching your scalp and tugging at your locks. “Shit!” is the only word he manages to say.

You let his length rest in your mouth as your hands wrap around the base of his dick, grip tightening just enough to coax breathy moans out of your lover. Without much further warning, you let your head sink lower onto his cock, taking in the scent of his body as your throat tightens around San.

His whines and whimpers only serve to make you more eager, and you quickly take his cock down your throat completely, gagging around him and feeling yourself grow more wet at the feeling of his cock twitching in your throat.

It doesn’t take San long to finally reach orgasm, shooting ropes of hot come down your throat as his hips buck into your mouth subconsciously. Your nails dig into his thighs as you grip his legs to keep him buried deep in your throat.

When you finally pop off his dick, drops of come still slide down your chin and throat, pooling in your collarbones and staining your dress. “Well, I sure hope you’re planning on taking my dress to the cleaners for me, San. It’s a pain to get the stains out myself–” your playful jibes are cut off by San wrapping his arms under your thighs and lifting you up. “San!” you squeal, hands flying to grab his shirt, arms thrown around his shoulders.

“It’s my turn, my lady,” he hums, carrying you to the wall of the barn, pinning you between the sealed wood and his chest as he reaches down and presses his fingers against your sopping cunt. “Look at you, so ready for me. So ready to please.” Quickly, he taps your arms to get you to raise them as he pulls the dress over your head, leaving you in your slip.

It’s your turn to whine, pressing your face into his neck as your legs wrap around his waist. His fingers skillfully play with your clit, drawing more broken moans out of your mouth. It doesn’t take you long to grow impatient, sinking your teeth into the junction of his shoulder and neck. “Fuck me already,” you beg. “Please, I want to be filled up by you. Keep your come in my cunt and–”

Before you can continue your prodding, you throw your head back and moan as San pushes the head of his already-hard cock into your pussy. It stretches you out so deliciously, and you can’t help but wiggle your hips a little to try and get it further into you.

“Stop moving,” San groans, his hand squeezing your waist. “Unless you want me to come already you need to sit still.”

He punctuates his words with a harsh thrust and you groan, dropping your head back into the crook of his neck. It’s moments like these you strongly appreciate the strength of his arms as he holds you up like you weigh almost nothing. His hands push you down slightly so that his cock spears you even deeper, pressing against the perfect spot at the perfect angle, and you keep your face buried in his neck as you mouth at the sun kissed skin.

One of San’s firm arms wrap around your waist as his other moves back down to press a thumb against your clit. “Ah– San–” you hiss, your nails digging into his shoulder blades. “Please–”

“God, you always sound so pretty when you beg,” San sighs, his cock twitching with every soft pant and whine you emit. The wet sounds of your fucking fill the barn, and you’re vaguely relieved the rest of your employees are done for the day. “You’re squeezing around me so fucking well. Look at me, baby.”

It takes you a moment, but you finally raise your head only to be met by San pressing his lips onto yours, kissing you deeply as he thrusts one last time and comes, holding you down on his cock. You can feel your stomach tightening and your legs shaking as you come with a broken whine, hands scratching down San’s back as your eyes roll back in your head.

It takes you a moment to catch your breath, but San is already wiping you clean with your discarded dress and you laugh breathily and smack his shoulder. “San! That’s my dress!”

He shrugs. “It’s already dirty, my lady. Don’t worry, Joohyun is the best at getting stains out.”

You groan, amusedly. “Just because she can doesn’t mean we should subject her to deal with our…times together. Give it to me, I’ll deal with it later.”

San laughs but hands you the dress, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple as he does so. “I love you, YN. You know I’ll stay with you for as long as I live, right?”

You hum, leaning against his broad shoulders as you fold your dress neatly. “I do. And…and soon, I promise, I’ll declare my love for you from the rooftops. I just need more time. Build enough money that the town cannot lose me. Cannot afford to ostracise me.”

A frown pulls at San’s lips as he strokes your back. “I don’t care about their words, their judgement. You’re the one I need.”

His words warm your heart from inside out. “Then we’ll get married next year, in this orchard. I promise you.”

San’s eyes soften as he leans down to capture your lips once more, the kiss full of promises and dreams. “I’ll hold you to that, my lady.”

[solarmorrigan]

You know how cats seem to have an innate sense of when you’re about to get up, and they choose that exact moment to sit down on your lap? And no sooner have they made themselves comfortable than you realize that you have to go to the bathroom, or someone calls you over, or the phone starts ringing, and you have to shove the poor cat off your lap?

That’s basically Eddie’s sex life right now.

Well alright, no, not entirely, but – it’s a component that’s certainly starting to become an irritation.

It’s just that Steve has a wonderful lap.

At least, Eddie assumes it’s wonderful. It’s wonderfully inviting, at the very least; it’s wide enough to offer Eddie (who is not quite as generously endowed in the whole… thighs-ass department, he’ll admit) a good seat, and he’s had his hands on the area often enough to know it’s firm but with just the right amount of give to be very comfortable.

But Eddie’s never actually gotten to spend much time on it.

He doesn’t even mean that in a sexual way (although that much is also true). Every time he’s so much as tried to plop himself down on Steve’s lap to do something as innocent as watch a movie, Steve seems to remember something he needs to get up and do within just a few minutes.

For a little while, Eddie had been worried about what that meant. Did Steve not want to spend time with him? Did Steve not want Eddie near him? Did Steve not find him attractive? Did Steve just find him annoying?

But further time spent together has given Eddie more confidence. Clearly Steve enjoys spending time with him—submits to it willingly and often—and does find Eddie annoying but in a way he enjoys. Steve also most definitely finds Eddie attractive (and, in fact, has no trouble at all spending extended time on Eddie’s lap). So at this point, it’s more of a puzzle. A frustration.

It can’t be that Eddie’s too heavy for him; Eddie isn’t a small guy, really, but he isn’t huge, either. He’s seen Steve push and pull bigger people around – hell, he’s seen Steve carry Mike a good ways through the woods and back to the car after the kid had slipped and twisted his ankle when they’d been out walking (an incident which none of them are allowed to speak of ever, for varying reasons of blackmail and dignity), and he’s not too much smaller than Eddie.

Eddie is nothing if not a direct sort of guy, though – if he’s thinking something, he’s going to say it. This is mostly because he has very little brain-to-mouth filter, but he’s learned to make it part of his image. He’s pretty sure it works for him.

All of this to say that one afternoon, as they make out on Steve’s couch, Eddie freshly settled on Steve’s lap, Eddie decides to just… ask.

He waits until he can feel Steve’s hands sliding down around his thighs—not groping, but with the intent to move him—before he pulls back to say anything.

“Hey,” he says—gasps, really, still a little breathless with his attempt to seize the opportunity, “question.”

Steve blinks up at him, startled. “Uh. Shoot.”

“Do you not like it, when I sit on your lap? Because it kinda seems like you find other places to be when I try to make that happen.”

If Steve had been startled before, that’s nothing on how he looks now. He covers it in an instant, but Eddie’s seen it; Steve’s good, he’s very good, but Eddie is literally right in his face.

“What?” Steve pulls back, brows drawn in confusion. “No. Why would I have a problem with you being in my lap?”

Eddie shrugs. “Not a damn clue. That’s why I figured I’d ask. It’s just that whenever I get myself settled here, you suddenly remember you have to get up.”

“I don’t do that,” Steve scoffs, throwing in a good-natured eye roll.

“You kinda do, babe,” Eddie says, keeping it light; this isn’t an argument, nor an accusation – it’s literally just a question, and he doesn’t want to scare Steve off.

“So you’re saying, that every time I have my boyfriend on my lap – a guy I find insanely hot, by the way,” Steve’s hand slide back up Eddie’s thighs, edging towards his ass, and this time he’s groping, “you’re saying I don’t want him there, is that right?”

Eddie’s resolve almost breaks as Steve stares up at him with his ridiculous, pretty eyes (he’s good, he’s very good, Eddie will give him that) and tugs him closer with his ridiculous, strong hands, but he knows Steve is lying. He knows it.

He just doesn’t know why.

And isn’t that interesting? Eddie wouldn’t exactly call Steve an open book, but they know each other pretty well by now; Eddie can usually read Steve, but he has no idea what he’s thinking just at the moment.

So he decides to allow it.

He’ll see where it goes.

“Hm,” Eddie hums, as if he’s thinking. “That does sound a little silly, if you put it like that.”

“Completely silly.” Steve grins up at him, but there’s a thread of very genuine sincerity in what he says next. “Of course I want you here.”

And Eddie’s not sure what to say to that, so he leans back in to kiss Steve again.

And for a while, it’s fine. Great, even. Steve is a very good kisser, after all, and Eddie likes to think he’s no slouch himself, and a good time is being had by all, except before too long Eddie can feel Steve starting to tense up under him.

Once again, Eddie doesn’t mean this in a sexual way.

It’s not the fun, anticipatory kind of tensing, but the ready to run or punch something kind of tensing. The kind of tension that comes from a threat, not from having your boyfriend on your lap.

Eddie waits to see if Steve will do anything, say anything, but he does nothing. His kisses grow more distracted, quicker and shallower, but he doesn’t pull away. He doesn’t push Eddie away.

It’s when Steve starts shaking that Eddie gives up.

“Okay,” Eddie pulls away, shifting himself to the side so he doesn’t have more than an ankle draped over Steve’s legs, “what’s wrong?”

“What do you mean, what’s wrong? You’re the one who pulled away,” Steve snaps.

“Yeah, because it feels like you don’t want me up there,” Eddie shoots back.

Steve rolls his eyes again, irritated this time. “What, you don’t like it if I don’t let you sit on my lap, you don’t like it if I do let you sit on my lap– What the fuck do you want from me?”

“Maybe just the goddamn truth.”

Whatever Eddie expects, it isn’t for Steve to just… stare at him.

He stares at Eddie for a good five seconds in full silence before shaking his head. “No,” he says quietly, “you don’t want that.”

His sudden reticence only sparks Eddie’s irritation. “Don’t tell me what I do or don’t want, Steve. You don’t want to tell me, that’s on you, but don’t decide for me what I don’t want to know.”

“Well what do you think you’re going to hear, Eddie, huh?” Steve barks. “What do you want to hear? You wanna hear how Billy Hargrove sat on me – pinned me down while he beat me unconscious? Or you wanna hear how it felt to be handcuffed to a fucking chair while some Russians– while they– how it felt to be held down and not be able to stop them from doing anything?”

Steve has stood up now, pacing in front of Eddie, and Eddie wishes he could do anything other than fucking stare while his boyfriend has some kind of breakdown that he started.

“Or – or how about how I ruined multiple dates, or hookups, or whatevers when someone tried to sit themselves down on top of me and I damn near shoved them off onto the floor and then had to make up some dumb fucking excuse and run out on them before I had some kind of fucking panic attack? You wanna hear all that?” Steve demands, rounding back on Eddie. “No! You don’t… you don’t want to hear that.”

“Steve… no, I don’t wanna hear all that,” Eddie says, and hurries on when he can see Steve practically crumple in on himself, “I don’t want to hear that all that horrible shit has happened to you, but I need to.”

“Wh– what?”

“You don’t… I mean, you don’t have to give me specifics if you don’t want, but I need to know what might set you off so I don’t accidentally do it, okay?” Eddie says. “It fucking terrifies me that you went through all that, and I know I can’t do anything about it, but I’m at least not going to be one more thing that makes you hurt. I’m gonna make damn sure of that.”

“…Oh.”

It’s clearly not what Steve was expecting to hear, and for a moment he shifts uncertainly in front of Eddie. He wraps his arms around himself before seeming to think better of it and crossing them over his chest instead. Eddie wants nothing more than to draw him close and hold him, but Steve’s not quite ready yet.

“I’m not… I didn’t want to say anything. I don’t want it to be an issue,” Steve finally says.

I don’t want you to treat me differently, he doesn’t say.

“Then we won’t make it an issue.” Eddie shrugs. “You got some kind of trauma associated with sitting on other people, or can you come back over here to me?”

Steve blinks at Eddie, startled, before he gives in to a little huff of laughter, slowly crossing back over to the couch.

“You’re an ass,” he says, all fondness.

“Mm, so I’ve been told,” Eddie says, aiming a smug smile up at Steve as Steve settles himself right over Eddie’s lap. “And yet, here you are.”

“Yeah…” Steve leans in, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of Eddie’s mouth, quirking a little smile as he pulls away. “Here I am.”

[lovecla]

TAKE YOUR PAIN AWAY | quinn hughes.

chapter thirteen:

<last chapter> <epilogue>

➴ chapter warnings: none!

➴ word count: 2.3k

💌 from me to you: and finally, the last chapter of TYPA. when i started writing this, i had no idea how important (this) quinn and madison would be to me, and i’m really grateful for them. i learned a lot about myself during my time working on this, and although it was painful, it was also healing. i truly hope that this story touched every single one of you like it did to me, and i also hope it helped u to heal from things that weren’t you fault, but you still believed them to be. no one is worth changing for, if that person isn’t ourselves. i love you all and thank you for giving this story so much love ♡

౨ৎ

2024, JULY.

“come, love, make me better than i was.

come teach me a kinder way to say my own name.”

— andrea gibson.

THE ROOM was packed with people making you hold Quinn’s hand tighter.

He chuckles beside you. “What’s the matter, baby?”

“Wasn’t expecting the room to be so full,” you mumble, watching as people approached you both, and Quinn introduced you as “his girlfriend”, the title making you smile wider.

“I guess you’re having the same sensation as me whenever I go to your fashion events.”

“Probably, I don’t know,” you shrug, walking beside him and trying to find the table assigned for the two of you plus his family. “The thing is, you guys here work hard. All I do is look pretty.”

“You give yourself too little credit for the good things and too much credit for the bad things,” he smiles sadly, kissing the tip of your nose lightly. “If all you did was look pretty, then you wouldn’t have so many people enchanted by you.”

“Hum, actually—”

“Hello, dears,” Ellen greets you when you approach the table, getting up so she could hug you both. “You look gorgeous, Maddie.”

You smile back at her, shyly. You knew this was a gala, but of course it was much simpler than the ones you’re used to, so you chose not to wear anything too fancy— just a simple navy blue, maxi dress with a thigh slit, nothing too expensive since the star of the night was Quinn.

You also chose the color blue because you wanted to match the Canucks logo, apart from the tiny 43 you had on your necklace.

“Thank you, Ellen,” it was still weird for you to call her that way, but after the way she frowned at you the last time you called her Mrs., you knew you had to stop.

“Are you excited, M?” Luke asks you after you sit in the chair beside him.

“Yeah,” you whisper. “And I'm nervous too. I wasn’t expecting this many people. You said it would only be some of the captains.”

“Well, yeah, but just because not every captain will get a speech, it doesn’t mean they can’t come too.” He laughs, mischievously. “You’ll be fine.”

Quinn placed his hand on your thigh, squeezing it lightly, just to let you know that he was there, and he wouldn’t let you go.

You smile at him, wondering how you got so lucky. You were surrounded by people that actually loved you, and even if it hurts you to think that your family, the people who shared the same blood as you, didn’t even care enough about you to know if you were happy or not, you were thankful that you could rely on the Hughes.

The dinner turned out to be pretty fun, especially with two comedians like Jack and Luke sitting on your table. Jim was also extraordinarily funny that night, while Quinn and Ellen shared annoyed stares. You couldn’t help but laugh at everything they said, because they somehow grew up to be really funny— sometimes.

Twenty-ish minutes before your time to speak, a staff member came to your table and silently asked you to follow them, after you placed a light kiss on Quinn’s lips and waved to the rest of his family, thanking his "good luck” wishes.

In the backstage, at least fifteen people stood there. Mostly women and old ladies, a few men and two kids. You watched as all of them read the texts they wrote over and over again, and you asked yourself if you should’ve brought the text you wrote with you, even if you knew every word like the back of your hand.

“Mrs. Carter, you’re up next,” someone says, and you nod at them, getting up from your seat and patting your dress.

Surprisingly, as you walked on the stage, while they presented a short video about Quinn’s career, you didn’t feel nervous. The hundreds of eyes on you did nothing to make you want to give up and curl up in a quiet little corner, which was unusual. You were used to big crowds, of course you were, yet you still got nervous here and there. But not feeling anything as you’re about to speak in front of so many people? Yeah, that was new.

The video ended after you stopped in front of the mic, smiling widely as you watched Quinn in the crowd, his blue eyes somehow shining brighter than everything else. You could tell he was anxious, eager to know what you would say, even more because the only person who had read what you’d written had been Victoria, and totally by accident, since you wrote parts of your speech during your breaks on the set.

“Hey, guys,” you say, waving at your crowd, making them laugh softly. “A lot of you probably don’t know who I am, so I’m gonna introduce myself before I start speaking,” you breathe in deeply, adjusting the microphone in front of you. “I’m Madison Carter and I’m a model. But I’m also the person that Quinn Hughes chose to talk about him.”

“I met Quinn when I was eleven and he was thirteen. I was just his annoying neighbor who would spend hours at his house, and make stupid questions about Hockey or anything that I didn’t know. You guys had Google, I had Quinn Hughes,” more laughing. “Once, I even told him he should ask for something cooler for his birthday, because he had told me he’d asked for a stick because he needed it to play and I just thought that was the dumbest thing ever,” people laughed again.

“He quickly became my favorite person in the world, and I’m not even exaggerating. He took care of me until I turned fifteen and he had to move to Michigan so he could go to college, and that basically was the end of our friendship, until I met him again in March, and suddenly, it was almost like the seven years we spent away from each other hadn’t happened at all.”

“Quinn has a way of taking care of everyone around him, and that’s one of the things that make him a great captain. I don’t know much about Hockey, sorry about that by the way, but the one thing I know is that it’s all about teamwork and about caring about your teammates and Quinn is your perfect example of that.

Today I stand here, not as his girlfriend, and not as his friend— but as someone who watches Quinn give the best of himself every single day, asking for nothing in return. As someone who can see right through him, and understand that one thing about Quinn, is that what you see, is what you get.

He’s my number one everyday. He stood up for me in moments that I couldn’t, he gave me his hand whenever I needed it, he often looks at me like he’d give me the world if I asked him to. And it’s a weird thing, this so-called feeling of love. Sometimes I wake up with my chest heavy, and all I need to do to make it go away is look at him.

Because this is who Quinn Hughes is. And I truly hope that everyone, outside or inside of this room, can see him the way I do.”

You could see some people wiping their cheeks, and that made you smile even wider, like you have been doing during your entire speech.

“Quinn, this is for you, and for you only: I love you. Thank you for being who you are, and please, never change. Thank you everyone.”

Some people stood to clap for you as you left the stage, almost running to Quinn’s arms with how much you missed them, even after just a few minutes apart.

“I love you,” he whispered in your ear, hugging you close as people still clapped for the two of you. “I love you so much, Madison. You’re everything to me.”

You smile at him, feeling your eyes getting wet with tears, as you kiss his lips. His hands immediately found your waist, holding you close to his body, both of you not even caring about being in front of so many people, including his family.

“I love you more,” you tell him, blue eyes matching yours. “Since day one.”

And it was true. Loving Quinn wasn’t something that happened out of nowhere, just because. No. You have loved Quinn ever since the first time you laid your eyes on him, not understanding why a boy who was almost as tall as you, even when he was older, made your heart beat faster.

But now you get it.

Now, you finally get it.

౨ৎ

2027, JUNE.

“QUINN, WHERE the hell are we?”

“Last time we were here you weren’t so dirty mouthed, baby.” You hear his soft laugh beside you, as you carefully walk with your hands holding his arms tightly.

“If I only knew where here is…”

It was June, and it was also your three year anniversary with Quinn and third year living in Vancouver. You had both agreed not to do anything too crazy because in just a few days you’d have to travel for Paris Fashion week, and you needed to rest as much as you could. But Quinn probably forgot about what you had agreed on, because next thing you know, he’s leaving Bella with Mrs. Fernandez, her cat and her son, and dragging you to an airport, getting inside the private jet with you.

You were confused and excited. He hadn’t told you where you were going, neither had the pilots and flight attendants, so you were just following his orders.

But as soon as you landed, a few hours later, he covered your eyes with a blindfold, and helped you get out of the plane and get inside the car.

And now, you’ve arrived, or at least that’s what it seems. He thanked the driver as he opened the car door and took you with him, with you asking questions the entire time, not even caring if you sounded annoying or not.

“Well, it looks like today is your lucky day, sweets,” he chuckled before removing the blindfold from your eyes, making you blink fast as you adjusted your eyes to the daylight.

Your eyes doubled in size as soon as you recognised where you were.

“How… how… oh my God. Quinn, what?” You stutter, not even trusting your own mind.

Because it couldn’t be true that Quinn had brought you to his old house in Toronto.

“I just thought we should come back here to remind ourselves from the beginning,” he shrugs, like this isn’t anything at all, like this is an everyday thing. Like he didn’t rent a jet and flew to his old house just to celebrate your anniversary. “Where it all started.”

Both houses looked the same. Yours and his. Still standing side by side, as you remembered them to be.

You stared at your old house, remembering your days there, and wondering about everything and nothing at the same time. You recalled the day you first saw Quinn, how he talked with you, and how he came back the next day to play with you, which didn’t happen because you both spent hours talking.

“Do you like it?” You hear him asking, and you smile.

“Of course I do,” you sniffled, not even realizing you had started crying. “I’m still in shock because—”

You stop speaking mid-sentence, as you turn your head around to face Quinn, only to find him standing on one knee, with a tiny, velvet box in his hand. Inside it, the most beautiful ring you had ever seen, with the most beautiful and delicate diamond.

“Quinn,” you whisper, covering your mouth with your hand, the tears rolling down your face with ease.

“I know it might be soon, and I’ll understand if this isn’t what you want now,” he smiles, trying to reassure you. “But everyday you prove to me that you’re my forever, the person I want to spend the rest of my life with. I want to wake up with you by my side everyday, I want to argue with you about the wet towel on the bed, I want to fuck you every time you decide that inviting me and my team to a Lingerie Fashion Show is a good decision,”

“You liked it, though,” you let out a wet chuckle, watching as he rolls his eyes and nods.

“I guess I did, yes. I also liked punching Conor in the face after he asked me if you did private shows too,” he says, making you laugh between your tears. “I want everything with you, baby. Your bad days, your good days, your I-don’t-want-to-look-at-your-face days, your please-don’t-go-away days. I want to one day be able to call you my wife, and the mother of my kids. So I guess this is my way of asking; Madison Carter, will you make me the happiest man on earth and be my wife?”

“It’s bold of you to even ask,” you joke. “Of course I will.”

He grins at you, removing the ring from the box and putting it on your finger, the diamond feeling heavy against your skin.

He gets up, picks you up and twirls you around, making you laugh out loud with how happy you are. You kiss his lips fiercely, the taste of salt mixing with his minty taste, your favorite flavor in the entire world.

“You’ll get to be Mrs. Madison Hughes,” he whispers against your lips, and you can swear your heart has never felt fuller. “What do you think about that?”

You chuckle. “I think that’s all I ever wanted. I love you, Quinny.”

“I think we both know I love you more, Maddie.”

“I think that’s up for debate.”

the(ir) end.

taglist: @hischierswhore @ru-kru @alwaysclassyeagle @he6rtshaker @nope-i-am-done @nngkay @urthem00n 🤎

[justmeinatree]

A Wet Dream Just Dangling

Summary : vampire harry wants to eat you out.

TW : smut, period sex, oral (f receiving)

Word Count : 1.5k

“c’mon, darling,” harry coos, laying in bed, tangled up with you, using the softness of your tummy as a pillow. “don’t have to be shy with me.”

“harry,” you giggle, biting your lip, “never in a million years would i have thought of doing this.”

“hmm, i could wait a million years, but i’d really rather not,” he grumbles, fingertips gently stroking your skin. “you know it’ll make you feel better, my love.”

“s’embarrassing. and really awkward,” you groan, stuffing your face in a pillow, fingers carding through your boyfriend’s hair.

“nothing to be embarrassed about. totally normal thing,” he turns his head, chin pressed into your skin, peering up at you. “besides, s’not like it’s my first time.”

“that doesn’t exactly make me feel better,” you giggle. 

when you met harry, and inevitably fell deeply in love, you knew there would be a learning curve to dating him. the whole vampire thing being a bit of an adjustment for you. 

in the last 6 months, you’d gotten used to the feeding part of dating him. a weekly, sometimes twice a week, occurrence, that you’d grown to honestly be excited for. the intimate part of it all wasn’t lost on you. if anything, it made you feel closer to him.

so far, the idea of period sex hadn’t come up. that is, until today. your cramps were a little worse than usual, and although you know that sex has helped to alleviate them, you also know that he’s not just asking for sex. he’s asking to eat you out.

“beautiful girl, you’ll love it,” he hums, pecking over your stomach, tongue darting to take a few tentative licks of your skin. 

your taste invades his senses immediately, fangs poking out on their own accord, gently scraping against you, just enough to make a trail of goosebumps follow their path.

“harry,” you whine softly. he knows that whine, knows that what he’s doing is working. and the lower he makes his way down your stomach, kissing, sucking, licking, tasting, the more he can smell you. smell the blood, smell the arousal mixing in. his mind starts going hazy, only able to focus on blood, blood, blood. but more specifically your blood.

“please,” he mutters so softly you barely caught it, fingertips dancing by the waistband of your sweatpants, lips and tongue and fuck, so much harry, ghosting over your hips. “please, will you let me, my love ?” little puffs of warm air tickling your skin.

“do it,” you sigh contently, setting your reservations aside at the pure desperate neediness to his tone. you’re not sure you could have ever imagined your big scary vampire to sound so soft and small, it made you give into him even quicker than usual.

the next moment flies by in a flash, your pants ripped clean off you, legs spread wide, thighs held open with his hands, an animalistic growl echoing from harry’s chest, fangs on full display, dropping down to breathe you in.

“fuck, fuck,” harry groans, his temple resting against your inner thigh, eyes locked on your cunt. you were absolutely soaked. your hormones on overdrive from your period, plus well, day 2 of your period, he doesn’t remember the last time he’s seen something so fucking beautiful. 

his tongue tentatively pokes out, taking a lick at your sopping folds, harry’s eyes rolling back. “fucking christ, my beautiful girl, can’t-“ he shakes his head, taking another lick, “can’t hold myself back. stop me if it’s too much.”

and with that, he delves in. face instantly pressing into your cunt, tongue darting into you, licking at your inner walls with purpose.

you struggle to keep up with the quickness of it all, your body reacting to harry before your brain has a chance to keep up. with your back arching, a loud moan echoing through the room, you grip into his hair, pressing yourself more into his face.

you can feel the vibration from his groan, your pussy clenching on his lapping tongue. you can feel the bluntness of his fangs encompassing your heat, a slight sting from time to time, when they scrape particularly roughly. you can feel the nipping of his nails in your skin, thighs aching from his strength holding you spread open. 

with your period long forgotten, cramps seemingly swept away with the flick of harry’s tongue, you keep rolling your hips into his face, causing his moans to increase.

harry’s mind is reeling, so far gone, overtaken with the continuous flow of blood. he doesn’t have to pace himself, doesn’t have to worry about taking too much. he can slurp up as much as he likes. add in the sweet taste of your arousal, and all he can focus on is more, more, more.

his eyes flick up to meet yours, the darkest crimson you think you’ve ever seen looking back at you. you note the deep red smeared over his pale porcelain skin, and you feel yourself tug on his hair harder, the sight making your skin prickle. you weren’t sure how this scene could ever be so beautiful, but here it was. and it made your stomach clench. 

you can see the moment harry knows you’re going to cum, his eyes looking at you in recognition, cunt throbbing on his tongue, his mouth moving north for a moment to suck and flick at your clit. instantly, your orgasm crashes over you, back arching, legs trembling against his hold.

and harry’s ecstatic to lick you through it, scooping up the bubbles of blood, a guttural moan vibrating from the depths of his chest, his tongue migrating south again, face following suit.

without a moment to breathe, harry being hyper focused on blood, languidly stroking his tongue up and down and up and down through your slit, from entrance to clit, lapping up the blood, the arousal, the overwhelming sense of you, you, you.

“harry,” you whimper breathily, trying to compose yourself post orgasm, all while still having his tongue scooping from deep inside you. you couldn’t budge your legs at all, no matter how hard you tried to close them, your entire body prickling with heat every time he’d stroke your sweet spot.

your whines fall on deaf ears, harry much too busy with his face buried in your cunt. it was moments like these where he loves that breathing isn’t a problem he needs to worry about anymore. 

so he continues on, sucking and slurping, getting completely lost in the seemingly endless supply of sustenance. so much so, that you’re almost certain he’s completely missed the fact that you’re cumming again.

your moans had gotten increasingly loud, body trembling and wracking in his hands, fingers pulling tight on his hair. your cunt was clenched hard around his tongue, but his muscles were strong, and it didn’t stop him one bit. growling pants coming from between your legs, he flicked his tongue over and over and over against your inner walls.

body covered in a sheen of sweat, you were panting, whining, so fucking overstimulated. and yet, you couldn’t find it in yourself to stop him. even with your third orgasm looming, the coil in your stomach tighter than it’s been all night, almost painfully so, you could not stop.

your hips try to lift off the bed, muscles stretching and tensing all at once, an explosion of heat and tingles spreads through you, your cunt at the centre of the storm.

harry groans happily, his mouth working you through your third orgasm, hands sliding from your inner thighs, around to the small of your back, holding you. 

instantly, your legs close on his head, a moan vibrating from harry’s mouth, his hold leaving your back, sliding over your bum, up the back of your thighs, to press your knees into your chest.

and for the first moment since his escapade began, he pulls his mouth away from your pussy, looking at it, admiring his beautiful girl’s most intimate parts. he knows he’s pushed you to a limit, doesn’t have to ask, he absolutely knows you well enough by now. 

he still, however, unable to help himself, takes a gentle lick all the way up your slit, your body flinching in response. “m’sorry, darling. just so pretty.”

heat rises to your cheeks, wiggling your hips, trying to get away from him, as embarrassment, shyness creeps up on you.

and again, knowing you so well, harry notices, shaking his head, pecking against the back of your thigh, knees still pressed to your chest. he takes another gentle lick up your cunt, groaning, “don’t know why you even bother with pads and tampons. fuckin waste of money, if you ask me.”

……

Masterlist

tags : @gorlsinmultifandoms @cc-horan

[v0rtex-sys]

TMA disability headcanons time!! this is only michael, gerry, jon, and martin but i will add more later. mild CW for talk of disorders :}

lots of these are based off my own experiences, especially michael </3

also i literally read the DSM-5 for this.

michael:

Cyclothymic disorder - a bipolar disorder. michael definitely has mania + depressive episodes that only last a day or so at a time

separation anxiety - probably been left before, finally found someone he trusts so now (gerry) he’s obsessively worried

ocd - probably caused/related to some of their other issues, i think they have very strict schedules and they freak out if it gets messed up

persistent vocal tic disorder - i think they’d only have vocal tics (until they get spiraled). probably a whistle tic, cursing mayhaps, echolalia

probably was selectively mute as a child

panic disorder - do i even have to explain myself?? i headcanon that it is worse during hypomanic episodes

Hypersomnolence disorder - i bet he is an eepy eeper and regularly falls asleep in weird places

borderline personality - worsened by mania + depressive episodes, their self image is regularly changing and also spiral avatar

visual snow - again, spiral avatar. i have this :} i also just think it’d be interesting

some sort of joint issues in their hands, maybe arthritis but i haven’t decided

gerry:

NPD - this solely of vibes (not in a bad way!!!) i dont have NPD so i can’t say too much ab it, would be down to expand on it but i don’t want to spread misinformation:,}

reactive attachment disorder - i think this is only a diagnosis for children but i'm not certain. mary definitely fucked his mental state up and he avoids people in caregiver roles (might have presented as being extra rebellious as a teenager)

insomnia - it’s essentially canon. i also think he and michael having opposite sleep disorders would be funny :}

ADHD - hyper with zero attention span

chronic fatigue - cane user because of it, can’t walk for too long. fainting/dizzy spells. worsened by the lung cancer

epilepsy - also worsened by lung cancer. probably has migraines bc of the seizures. i bet he regularly has petit mal seizures

jon:

autism - no explanation needed. although i hc that he learned bsl in college cause he kept going nonverbal (or maybe georgie taught them? she seems like she knows bsl)

brief psychotic disorder - literally him all of season two. plus maybe the end of season 4 & the end of season 5.

hoarding disorder - idk they seem like a hoarder to me. but only a little? like they hoard but they’re so anxious about people judging them for it so they force themself to get rid of stuff which results in more horading

ARFID - sensory issues make it hard for them to eat:(

paranoid personality disorder - essentially canon, literally them all of season 2

schizoid personality disorder - ik it could be their autism but still, i think the relationship avoidance (especially with martin) is a bit more than just tism

schizotypal personality disorder - worsened by the eye.

(yes i know that’s all the cluster A personality disorders, it’s not my fault they all fit him!! /lh)

chronic fatigue - probably bc of the eye bullshit, they probably faint a lot

cane user - i dont know what physical disability they’d have, but i like the cane user jon HC soooo

i also think they’d have some nervous tics, not a tourette disorder tho

martin:

dissociative amnesia + derealisation/depersonalization - brought on by the lonely. probably struggles to recognise people (worsened by not-sasha)

rheumatoid arthritis in his hands (+ his feet from the walking in the fearpocalypse)

major depressive disorder - had since he was little, worsened by the lonely