#c’mon now you’re british you should know this
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hurt-you · 2 years ago
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i wish we could collar chris on stage, ollie please whisper in chris’ ear
*oli
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xoxochb · 1 month ago
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I’m BEGGING like srs on my KNEES for a athena kid! Reader X Percy PLSPLSPSLSPLSPSLSPSLPSLPSLEPELEPLEPSL
PLSSS
🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️
— cake baking ౨ৎ ⊹ �� ˖
♪ ༘⋆ on the radio… glue song by beabadoobee!
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warnings: none! pairing: percy jackson x daughter of athena
⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡
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“okay, since you’re so smart, then you do it!”
“fine! I will!” frustrated, you snatch the whisk and metal bowl from your boyfriend, taking them into your own arms and beginning to stir the cake batter.
it’s silent for a while, the only sound being the clattering of metal-against-metal and the swooshing of the smooth beige batter. you enjoy this silence. it’s not often when you can get percy to stay quiet this long so you enjoy his calmness.
when you finish whisking, you place it down on a towel to prevent dirtying the counter any further (baking with percy was an utter disaster). you place down the bowl as well, quickly taking a finger of the batter and taking it between your lips— tasting it.
percy goes to do the same but you slap his hand and stop him. “do not!”
he frowns. “but you did it.”
“because my hands are clean— on the other hand, yours, have been touching everything since we began. now would you be a lamb and hand me the pan?”
percy sighs. nonetheless, he does as you ask without argument, walking to the other end of the room to retrieve the cake pan, and then walking back to where you stand next to the counter, handing you the pan.
“thank youuuu!” you sing-song, taking it in front of you and beginning to pour the batter into it. percy watches you attentively, awaiting his next instructions since you had taken a leadership role in the ‘couples baking’ situation.
though he didn’t blame you for it. he knew, like most of the children in cabin six, taking this role was natural and wasn’t something you had done on purpose. he loved you for it anyways.
“so when do I get to do something?” he leans against the counter and places his head on his chin.
“when I tell you.”
“c’mon, smartie-pants, there’s gotta be something I can do other than admire you.”
“no. that’s actually your job.”
true. but he will not give up on this.
you finish pouring the rest of the batter into the pan, placing the mixing bowl back down onto the counter. right before you can pick the pan up, percy takes a finger of the cake and licks it clean off his finger.
“what the fuck is wrong with you?!”
“it’s really good. we should apply for the great british bake off.”
“key word: british— you are not last time I checked.”
he rolls his eyes, leaning back against the counter and watching as you make your way to the oven, placing the pan atop the stove as you grab your pink oven mittens (courtesy of percy who had hand-made them for you), then opening the door and placing the cake atop a rack (admittedly his eyes had glued themselves to your bottom as you did so).
you finish by taking the mitts off and setting the timer, walking back to where percy stands. you cross your arms and look up to him, smirk prominent across his lips. a no-good smirk you unfortunately know all too well.
“what?” your voice is nonchalant compared to your racing heart.
“I can’t look at my girlfriend?”
“not like that.”
“c’mere, smartie-pants.”
without warning, you’re taken into percy’s chest, his arms absentmindedly wrapping around your frame. your worried demeanor diminishes nearly instantly, the ocean scent washing over your senses calming you. you inhale it sharply, nuzzling your face into his shirt.
“you can help me frost the cake after,” you murmur, half-stifled from your current position.
“that’s fine,” here it is. “I’d rather admire you. that’s my job isn’t it?”
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lakebella · 7 days ago
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Angel’s Unwell - Remus Lupin
I’m so excited to finally get round to posting on here! I hope you all like this one, and please send me any requests you might have!
WC: 700
Remus can’t find you at first when he comes home. After a long day at work, all he wants is to curl up on the sofa with his love for hours on end, but that’s proving to be difficult when he can’t actually locate her. After getting rid of his hundreds of layers of protection against the unforgiving British weather, he makes his way through your shared apartment, checking room by room in search of you. His eyebrows furrow with confusion - you weren’t working today, and surely it was too early for you to be asleep. Despite his doubts, he heads towards your bedroom, opening the door gently and poking his head in.
You’re curled up in the middle of the bed, covers sticky with sweat and twisted around your body. Your face is scrunched up, and you almost look like you’re in pain. Remus’ heart clenches at the sight of his baby hurting, and darts forward as quietly as he can, desperate to get to you. He sits down on the bed next to your sleeping form and gently pushes some hair away from your face. ‘Angel’ he murmurs, bringing his head right next to yours. ‘Wake up sweetheart, come on’. You begin to stir, stretching uncomfortably, the pained expression still displayed on your face. ‘That’s it baby, good girl’ he whispers, cupping your face as your eyelids start to lift. ‘Hi sweet girl’ he coos stroking your cheek ‘what’s going on, hmm? Why are you in bed already?’ You blink up at him, confusion lacing your features ‘What?’ You croak, your through feeling suddenly dry. ‘When are you going to work’. Remus looks down at you in concern, tilting his head to one side. ‘I’ve already been to work angel. It’s 5pm. Have you been asleep all day sweetheart?’ Now your confusion morphes into panic. All day? Surely not. You try to sit up but pain shoots through your head and you let out a groan lying back down.
Remus lays one hand on your forehead, pushing your hair back as he removes it again, frowning softly at you. ‘You’re burning up sweetheart, you’ve got a nasty fever.’ He whispers softly to you as you shut your eyes. The confusion is overwhelming, and you can barely think through the pounding of your head. ‘I don’t feel good’ you murmer, so quietly you wonder if you didn’t just think it. But Remus hears, his eyes softening as he presses a kiss to your forehead. ‘I know honey, you’re really under the weather aren’t you. Why didn’t you tell me this morning you weren’t feeling well?’ You sigh, straining to remember that morning. You can vaguely recall Remus getting up for work and kissing you goodbye. Had you felt sick then? ‘I don’t know’ is all you can muster up. The exhaustion is slowly taking over, and all you want to do is lay down with Rem and try to sleep this off. Unfortunately, he has other plans.
‘C’mon honey, up you get’ he says softly, gently pulling you up to his chest and scooping you up. You protest weakly, muttering something about wanting to sleep, but Remus carries you all the way into the kitchen and sets you down on the counter. ‘Let’s get you some medicine, then you’ll feel better okay angel?’ He gives the top of your head one last kiss as he lets you go, making his way to the sink to pour you a glass of water and get you some painkillers from the cupboard above it. After much coaxing and some gently bribery, he manages to get the medication into you and takes a step back, assessing his patient.
‘That should kick in soon Dovey. Is there anything else I can get you for now?’ His kind eyes find your droopy ones as he smiles softly at you. ‘Will you come lay with me’ you ask, looking up at him tiredly. His heart softens, as it always seems to with you, and he pulls you into him. ‘Of course I will sweet girl, anything for you honey. Couch or bed?’
Soon you’re both situated on the couch, surrounded by blankets and pillows. You curl into Remus’s side contentedly as he muses over Netflix choices, rubbing your back subconsciously. You already feel better, although somehow you don’t think it’s the medicine healing you.
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mikaelsonstanaccount · 2 months ago
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Klonnie Mischief Movie Night
Before anyone roasts me I would like to mention that I have never seen a horror movie before and this is loosely based off of Monster House.
“C'mon Bonnie it’s not that scary.” Caroline teased as Elena, Tyler, Matt, and Bonnie stood outside the abandoned Mikaelson residence. “Caroline we aren’t kids anymore. I mean, we are about to graduate from college for heaven's sake!” Bonnie exclaimed as she crossed her arms. She knew she should probably just get on the road and head back to her apartment in Maryland, but she couldn’t leave her friends. Caroline pouted and stomped her foot like a child, looking at Bonnie. “I mean, we will be in there together.” Elena smiled, trying to remain hopeful. Something about the house rubbed Bonnie the wrong way and no matter what she did, she couldn’t shake it. 
“Fine, I’ll go. Just so we all are clear, I will be the final girl.” Bonnie sighed as she walked inside with her two friends. The trio lost a bet to Matt and since they lost, this was the punishment. Bonnie walked inside behind Elena, clutching the flashlight in her hand. The door suddenly slammed and the three of them screamed. Not thinking, they all ran off, terrified of the slam. Bonnie seemed to be lost, looking around for some source of light. She sighed and found a nearby bathroom and wet her palm. She quickly put a flame in her hand, thankful that she learned early on to manage her pyrokinesis. 
She sighed as she walked around, looking for a sign of her friends. She called their names out timidly, listening for any sign of life. She heard a high-pitch scream, followed by silence and her fear kicked up a notch. “Caroline I swear to God if you are fucking with me I am fucking you up when I see you!” She called out, trying to swallow her scream. She continued down the hall before tripping over what felt like a log. She groaned as her body hit the ground before she looked down and saw blonde hair. She froze and tried to gather herself to turn around and look. She blinked a few times before looking at the face and seeing Caroline. She felt like she was going to puke as she tried to tell herself it was a prank. “C’mon Caroline enough is enough, get up.” She cried, looking down at the body.
She saw two oval-like holes in her neck and blood dripping below her. She began crying, still shaking her friend to wake up. “She’s not waking up love.” A British voice called out as she looked around. It sounded so close but so far away. “Caroline stop playing with me please.” She cried as a hand walked over and held hers. She looked up in fear as she saw a pair of black eyes and yellow irises. Swallowing her scream, she took off running, trying to find somewhere else to hide or to escape. She heard laughing in the background, like the person was taunting her. She tripped again, groaning as she tumbled hard. She looked down and noticed Tyler lying there and she froze.
Bonnie didn’t know what to do but it was clear her friends were now dead. The final girl thing was only meant to be a joke, but now it’s coming true. “You’re all alone with me, scaredy cat.” The same voice called out as it approached her. She looked up and now saw blue eyes as the stranger looked at her. She blinked a few times before realizing that she recognized the face. It was Niklaus Mikaelson, the man in all the photos. “Yes yes love, it’s me.” He chuckled, squatting down to look at Bonnie. He hummed as he held her chin and looked at her. He gently moved her face around to get a good look at her in the moonlight. “You are very beautiful my love but there is something about you. I can feel it, even just by holding your chin.” Klaus smiled as Bonnie thought. She realized that he knew she was a witch. 
“Don’t worry pretty girl, I don’t want to harm you, I just want to taste you. You, my love, will be spared. I could never kill such a beautiful creature.” Klaus smiled before his eyes turned black. He suddenly pulled her close and sank his fangs into her neck. Bonnie let out a gasp, but for some reason couldn’t scream. The bite hurt at first but then it was replaced with a layer of pleasure. She didn’t know if it was his doing or hers but she knew that she wasn’t thinking straight. She blinked a few times before realizing she needed to escape. She held her hand out, summoning the nearby vase to her hand. Thankfully it was clear so she could see the water in the vase that was more than likely used to hold flowers.
She dipped her hand in the vase and then set it on fire. “Burn in hell.” She said angrily before gripping the hand that was on top of her hips. Suddenly he pulled away from the bite but only chuckled. “Fire won’t kill me love” Klaus whispered in her ear as the pair slowly were engulfed in flames. The two were fireproof but for vastly different reasons. Bonnie was able to use her magic to make herself a human match essentially but he was a mystery to her. “Flames can’t kill an original.” He whispered in her ear as they both stood there, two matches burning. Bonnie felt another bite on her neck and this time she let out a moan. Between the flames and his touch, something about this gave her a new high she’d never experienced. Almost like an addiction.
She soon felt her eyes getting heavy, realizing that he was taking a lot. She began to panic as she dismissed the flames, both of them now skin to skin. “Relax my love, I told you, I can’t harm such an innocent creature.” Klaus whispered before he bit his wrist and pressed it to her mouth. Bonnie began to drink from him, almost immediately getting used to the metallic flavor. It was strange for her and she worried that he somehow turned her into a vampire. She’d seen Twilight before and knew how fast humans became vampires. “Easy love, I would have to kill you to turn you. I will make sure that you make it home safely. Rest.” He whispered in her ear as she felt her eyes getting heavier. Soon she ended up passing out, her body limp in his hold.
When she woke up the next morning everything set in. She panicked as she tried to think of what to do. She grabbed her phone and immediately searched for a news report on the house. She saw Caroline’s name go across her screen and she teared up. “Bonnie? Oh my gosh, that goodness you’re okay. I had a horrible dream you and Elena were killed by some psychopath but then I woke up and saw Elena here but you weren’t and I panicked. I’m sorry to call you so early but I just wanted to hear your voice.” Caroline cried on the other end as Bonnie let out a sigh of relief. “I’m okay Care. I had a dream like yours so it’s good to hear your voice too.” Bonnie sniffled as the two girls began to calm down. Soon after Bonnie got a text from Tyler and Matt, checking on her. Bonnie was willing to dismiss everything as a bad dream until she noticed the bite marks on her neck. She tried to concentrate on Caroline talking and trying to soothe herself but her brain couldn’t stop staring at the bite marks. 
Bonnie began to look at her entire body before realizing that she was in a henley. No man in her family owned a henley so clearly this was a stranger’s shirt. She headed out to the kitchen and she froze as she saw the vase from last night with fresh roses in it. She ended her call with Caroline before walking over to the vase and reading the letter that was below it. 
  “Last night was perfect my love. We burned like flames in an open field, fueling one another to continue on. I hope I can experience more of your fiery passion as well as your taste. Your blood is my new favorite addiction and I hope to have another bite soon” ~Niklaus 
She read as she froze. It wasn’t some dream. What happened last night was real and the passion she felt was real too. She saw his number on the back of the card and thought about whether to call or not. 
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annisassintchaska · 1 year ago
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Jealousy: Toto Wolff x Black! Reader ft. Christian Horner
TW: Violence, Cursing
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In the Formula 1 paddock, Toto had been known for working mostly alone, not asking for help unless it was a last option. So imagine the look on the media and other faces when he was spotted walking in next to a beautifully short, black haired woman as he appeared to be listening to her rant from notes on her IPad. At this point the whole paddock of drivers and a few Team Principals went into chaos trying to get to know her in a personal way yet they remained unsuccessful as Toto kept her locked away in his office.
For weeks on end, the paddock watched them arrive and disappear behind the walls of the garage only to be seen when it was time to leave. The men were going out of their minds trying to find some way to get the woman alone but it was very unfortunate that she could never even be found.
Today was scheduled to be Media day where all the drivers were packed into one room to be ‘interrogated’. “So Lewis and George. I’m sure you both already know the question I have in mind. Toto has been spotted recently with a beautiful girl who we supposed works with you all. Do you by any chance have any tea to spill with us? Even a little would be fine?” A female reporter asked eagerly causing the two Mercedes drivers to laugh. “Yeah, Y/n, she’s Toto’s personal assistant. She’s been working with him for about one and a half years now; However Toto keeps her hidden from everyone. We think he’s in love with her but he denies it and for that we gave her the nickname ‘Lady Wolff’” Lewis explained causing excitement among the other drivers.
A couple days later, Toto had Y/n enter through the back while he came through the front, only to be met by Christian himself. “Forger Wolff, nice to see you. Haven’t you seen my emails asking for your assistance number or even her email?” He asked suggestively. “And I responded saying that you should let it go because she’s uninterested in seeing or hearing from you?” Toto responded perplexed. “Can’t you just please give it a rest?” Toto asked irritated at the shorter man. “Oh c’mon Toto, that’s not fair! It’s not nice to gatekeeper and not share! And besides, maybe she would prefer a guy with a wining team and man who knows how to build and upgrade a perfect car” Christian whined and taunted which led to the furious reaction from the taller man.
Toto became infuriated as he grabbed Christian by his throat, pulling him up into the air with one arm as he held him up against the wall choking him out, while his other hand held his file bag.
“Now you listen to me Horner, I know what you’re intentions are and frankly I don’t care, but if I ever hear of or see you anywhere near my assistant, I will tear you apart piece by piece down to your very last fucking atom. Do you understand me?!” Tot asked angrily making the British native nod rapidly begging silently for release.
The cameras had caught everything with audio and Y/n had to be called out to the scene where she screamed in panic. “Toto, you can’t do that. You’re going to kill him!” She yelled out at her boss, seeing he victim turning purple in the face. “Let him go and come inside m, are you insane?! You’re twice his size, you can’t be doing this you giant!” Y/n yelled while prying her boss’ hand away from his opponent who started coughing wildly as soon as he was freed. Everyone watched on in amazement as the 5’2 woman dragged her giant of a boss away from the scene and pushed him into the office before entering and closing the door. Continuing forward everyone went back to work.
In the office, Y/n messaged her boss’ shoulders in an attempt to calm him down as he grumbled on about the fight until she decided to advise him. “Mr. Wolff you don’t have to be this upset. You should just try to ignore him” The brown-eyed woman stated as she his mood.
“That’s the thing schatz, I can’t ignore him when he’s inquiring to make advances towards anything that I already claimed!” Toto yelled as he got up, pacing the room. “What?” Y/n asked, confused as to how she was mixed in with something he ‘claimed’. “Y/n…I know this might come as a shock to you, but I’ve been in love with you for a while now. I just didn’t know how to say it and then he came along and made suggestions towards you so I got angry. I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you”. Toto explained shyly while blushing from being under the young woman’s gaze.
Y/n smiled as she got up from her chair and walked towards her boss, pulling him down into an earth-shattering kiss that turned into a make out session. She pulled away from the kiss giggling cutely while Toto blushed, feeling like a school boy when Y/n said “I’m in love with you too”.
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talesfromthesnogbox · 3 months ago
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Oh, and I Told my Sister
Summary: “And Bea, who found out when she walked in on one of their after-dark FaceTime sessions, leaving Henry capable of nothing but flustered British stammering and thousand-yard stares for the next day and a half.” Henry's POV of the most mortifying moment of his life thus far. An extension of a moment from Red, White & Royal Blue, chapter six, page 182.
Word Count: 3,931
Rating: Explicit
AO3 Link
It was a gloomy Saturday night in April, and Kensington Palace was absolutely silent. Pip and Martha were on tour somewhere in Australia, Catherine had returned from her own time abroad, but had holed up in her room all day, Henry had David snuggled up in his room watching Bake Off, and Bea, well Bea was catching up on another one of the trashy romance novels she loved.
Mr. Wobbles the cat had seemingly decided to spend the night with her for once, and lounged on the end of her bed, tail swishing gently. Even he’d been fairly quiet on that rainy early spring night, until he let out a loud meow and headed towards the hallway. “Hang on…” Bea said aloud as the aforementioned beagle circled around himself and laid down just outside her bedroom door. It was nearing half two in the morning, and Henry, though an insomniac, rarely left his fluffy companion out of his room at night. In fact, he’d rather have both David and her stubborn cat take residence on the end of his bed than let David roam the halls once the lights had gone out. 
She put the marker in her book and stepped into a fuzzy pair of bunny slippers. David lifted his head as she approached, tail wagging slightly. “Hey little Prince, why aren’t you with your dad?” Bea bent down, patting David on the head, and he stood fully to lick her chin. David’s best friend Mr. Wobbles had joined in, pawing at his tail, but he paid the cat no mind. “Alright, let’s get you back to bed now.” 
Although Mr. Wobbles had no intention of leaving the warm dim light of Bea’s bedroom, David followed behind her dutifully down the hall. Henry’s room was not far from hers, just down the hall and around the corner. She fondly remembers being a little girl and hiding around this same corner so she could scare Henry. It usually worked, and her dad usually got upset with her, but every once and a while she’d pull the same trick, and still get him every time. 
“C’mon Davey, I know you’re tired but we’re almost there.” David groaned, following behind the redheaded princess. “See, wasn’t so bad, sweet boy. Now, we should give dad a little scare.” She snickered, putting her hand on the doorknob as quietly as she could so not to rattle it. Then, swinging the door open in a louder voice, “Henry, you seem to have forgotten—OH MY GOD!”
~~~~~
Henry had insisted he didn’t want anything for his birthday, but Alex was nothing if not persistent. A brown box with the White House’s return address was dropped off with his morning mail in mid April after Alex had pre-warned him he didn’t listen, and Henry immediately was filled with warmth. 
In the months he’d been finally talking to Alex again, their flirting was kicked into overdrive. What used to be casual teasing now carried heated undertones, their phone calls verged into dangerous territory on more than one occasion, and earlier that month he’d even sent Alex off with a hickey or two… which he knew Zahra was not happy about. Henry had been skeptical about the whole friends with benefits thing right from the get go, but he’d been easing up on the idea recently. The flicker of fear still whispered in his ear whenever he felt himself getting too close, thinking things about feelings he needed to avoid, but other than that, their friendship had been stronger than ever.
Henry eyed the box in front of him. Inside the brown shipping package was a slightly smaller box, wrapped in black and gold paper with a gold glittery ribbon. A typed note rested atop it that read:
Open when alone… I’m serious 😉😘
Dear God.
Though he was a prince, he still had matters to attend to, so Henry put the box out of his mind until later that day. Finally when he was ready to see what was inside, he opened his text conversation to shoot Alex a message.
HRH Prince Dickhead 💩 [3:05 p.m.]
What’s this I’ve received in the mail after I specified no gifts?
Alex Claremont Diaz [3:06 p.m.]
a surprise 😉
have you opened it yet?
HRH Prince Dickhead 💩 [3:08 p.m.]
No, you cretin. Should I be scared?
Alex Claremont Diaz [3:10 p.m.]
nah it’s a bit of fun
but call me later 
you’ll see why
He rolled his eyes, but took the wrapped package out of its shipping box and made his way to his bedroom. Truth be told, he was a little giddy at the idea of Alex picking something out just for Henry, wrapping it, and sending it on its way. They talked about their arrangement, and Henry knew it was purely just sex, but little gestures like this made him feel special, important, loved. He could never have Alex the way he wanted him, but at least he knew what it was like to have him at all. 
Butterflies unleashed themselves in Henry’s tummy as he pulled the knot of the ribbon. Carefully, he pulled the paper off the box, and immediately his cheeks burned at the sight of what was inside. He knew the branding, well if he was telling the truth, but he didn’t have this little gadget (it was still on his wish list). His mouth gaped open, he lifted the lid of the box to see the little remote control that was supposed to be included was suspiciously gone, all that lay inside was the sleek looking prostate massager and the charging cable. Immediately, Henry called Alex.
“I take it you opened my gift?”
“A-Alex, what in God’s name?”
“Oh shit, I’m sorry I should have asked…”
Henry chuckled as he touched the soft black silicone. “No Alex, it’s not—you just have to be careful sending things to me at KP, they scan all our packages at the gate for security.”
He hears Alex breathe a sigh of relief. “So you’re not mad?” 
“Quite the opposite, this one has been on my shopping list for a while, saved me a trip.”
Henry could feel Alex’s eyes going wide through the phone. “What, do you have a collection or something, your highness?”
He smirked. “Hm, I guess you could call it that, though they’re not something I keep out on display like some other collections. I’ll have to show you sometime.”
“It’s a date,” Alex replied lowly. “Hey, so I, uh, I kept the remote. And I can control it through an app as long as you have the app too, so um… I was wondering, uh…”
“Alex, I’m well aware of how this little thing works,” he whispered, nerves creeping into his voice. He’d purchased from this brand before, even had the app when it was more convenient than the little remote control that ran through AAA’s like they were water. But Henry had never used the remotes or app for its intended purpose, that being with someone else. “Would you like to try it with me?”
“I—only if you’re okay with it.”
“Sweetheart, I… I’d look forward to it.” He grinned to himself, feeling the excitement stir within. 
~~~~~
The rest of the afternoon saw Henry floating on cloud nine. He was unable to focus on anything, quiet all through dinner, and even more in his own head than usual. By the time nightfall came around, he could only think about Alex’s gift. 
He tried watching reruns of Bake Off, tried picking up one of his favourite books, hell, he even took David around the palace grounds for a midnight stroll. But by two in the morning, Henry was still keyed up and wide awake.
Throwing himself on his bed, he groaned, lacing his fingers together over his forehead. He couldn’t get Alex out of his head, his broad shoulders, dark curls, chocolate eyes… 
“Fuck.” He sighed, feeling his cock stir in his pants. Henry grabbed his phone, his thumb hovering over Alex’s contact. 
Alex answers on the second ring. “Isn’t it like two am in London? What, are you gonna ask me what I’m wearing or something next?” 
“What are you wearing?” Henry deadpans.
Alex lets out a laugh from the other side of the ocean. Henry swears he can feel it in his chest, and cracks a smile. “Your royal highness, are you trying to initiate phone sex?”
“No… switch to FaceTime I wanna see you.”
Alex huffs. “Wait, you’re serious? Are we doing this now?”
When Henry rolls his eyes, he’s sure Alex can practically hear it from the White House. “I’ve been at half-mast since opening your gift this afternoon. Alex I swear to god…”
“Do I make you horny, baby?” 
He lets out an exasperated sigh and switches immediately to FaceTime. Alex is giggling, and shirtless, and red from laughter, and shirtless, and sitting in his bed, shirtless. 
“If you ever want to touch my prick again you will not quote Austin Powers when I’m trying to have perfectly good phone sex with you.” 
“Shit baby, you really weren’t joking about this. Did you—“
“No, I didn’t really… prepare for that so we’ll have to use the toy another time. I just want to see you when I come.” 
“Fuck you’re so hot.” Alex drops his phone for a split second, and there’s rustling on the other end of the line, and Henry knows he’s over there getting good and naked. 
“Two minutes, I really don’t want to scar my dog.” Henry puts the phone down and carries David out of his room. “Sorry my boy, but daddy needs some alone time.” He sheds his shirt and pyjama pants on the way back to the bed, and by the time he’s face to face with Alex again, he’s begun palming himself through his Calvins. “You are alright with this, yeah?” 
Alex smirks. “What do you think?” He flips the camera to show himself mirroring Henry’s own ministrations, his cock hardening in his hand. “God Henry, I wish you were here. The things I’d do to you…”
“Mmmmm, tell me?”
The camera flipped back to Alex’s face, his eyes dark and sultry as he blinked through his lashes. “I will, but you’ve gotta be a good boy and not touch yourself until I say so. Can you do that for me sweetheart?”
He whimpers, nodding frantically. Reluctantly, Henry moved his hand away and rested it beside him on the bed. Normally Alex followed Henry’s lead in the bedroom, so seeing him confidently take control of the situation that Henry started had him feeling dizzy. He’d already been so keyed up, he knew this would be over quickly, and he wanted to savour every second of sexual tension with Alex. 
“Remember when I came to see you play Polo a few months back?” 
Henry nods. “You have no idea how often I think about that mouth of yours and just what it accomplished that day.”
Alex smirks. “Okay before the rich white people sex dungeon happened. Can I walk you through what was going through my mind?” 
His grip on the sheets tightened, and Henry worried his lip between his teeth, nodding in invitation for Alex to continue.
“Never thought I’d go for a horse girl but fuck sweetheart, I couldn’t take my eyes off your ass. You’re a very… adept rider, got me thinking about what you might look like riding something else.” The camera angle widened, Alex’s tight abs and the angry looking head of his cock came into view. 
“Please—”
“Go ahead baby, spit into your hand and show me how you touch yourself.”
Henry did just that, groaning as he finally took himself out of his briefs. “More Alex, tell me more.” 
The chuckle that left Alex’s lips was low and sultry. “Oh, you’re ready to go there baby? You want to hear about how fucking good you’d look riding my cock? How I think you’d get drunk on how I feel filling you up? I bet you’d go dumb with pleasure, taking whatever you can for yourself. Your ass in my lap, my hands on your thighs, your nails in my shoulders… fuck baby I want it so bad.” 
His head rolled back against the headboard with a light ‘thud’, and his hips bucked up into his hand unconsciously. “Sh-shit, would you let me touch myself if I was with you?”
“Absolutely not. I want to see you demonstrate firsthand if the prostate is really that sensitive before I give myself some hands on experience for myself.”
“Christ, I promise you it is. Next time I’ll show you, can’t wait for you to torture me with your gift. I’ll go hands off and all, would you like that Alex?”
“Fuck yeah, can I tie your hands together with that leather strap you locked the door with?” 
Henry parted his legs further and exhaled, watching a bead of pre-cum dribble from the tip of his dick. “God, I’d fucking love you to.”
Alex’s groan on the other end of the line sent Henry’s heart into a frenzy. The only sound between them was their heavy breaths, the slick sound of skin on skin, and the occasional groan. He was so lost in the moment, he’d missed the voice coming from the hall, and instead jumped to tuck himself back into his pants at the sound of his door flying open.
“OH MY GOD!”
“BEATRICE!”
A third, distinct sounding shout resonated through the speaker of Henry’s phone as Bea retreated, hand over eyes.
“Henry, what the fuck!”
“GET OUT!”
Bea deposited David just inside Henry’s door, and promptly ran, closing it behind her.
Henry’s hands shook, he wiped a hand… the wrong hand… across his face with a grimace. “I cannot believe that just happened.”
Alex let out a hearty laugh as the tips of Henry’s ears turned pink. “Glad to know royalty or not, older sisters will still have no concept of boundaries.”
“Please don’t.” He sighed in disappointment. “I’m investing in a lock for my door. I’m sorry Alex, I don’t think I can continue tonight.”
“Understandable, I’d have a hard time keeping it up too if my sister saw my dick not five minutes ago.”
Henry winced. “Too fucking soon. I’m hanging up now.” 
The grin on Alex’s face was blinding, happiness radiating through him. “We can try again some other time. You can actually get yourself ready and we can test out your new toy, maybe when I need a break from finals?”
“That sounds lovely, but I will not be thinking another sexy thought for the next five to seven business days.”
~~~~~
The next morning, Henry waited until Bea was gone to leave his room. Shaan gave him a questioning frown, to which Henry shook his head at.
He managed to avoid her through breakfast and well into the afternoon, an easy task when you live in a palace as big as Kensington Palace. David even came to lay with Henry in his bed just after dinner thinking his human was having a dark day. He didn’t leave his room again until the next day.
Unfortunately, it was inevitable that they’d eventually have to interact before Henry had the chance to forget about what happened.
It was lunchtime, and Henry was looking forward to catching up on a podcast he’d been listening to while he ate, but fate had other plans.
“Ah Henry, there you are.” Philip was the last person he’d expected to be there alongside Bea. “Come sit, we were just going through the proceedings for Gran’s birthday parade.” He cautiously approached the table and sat across from his siblings. “I’m doing the speech at the gala, and Beatrice will be riding alongside her in the parade, I thought maybe you could play her a piano piece at the gala after my speech?”
“Yeah, great, sure.” He said, only half hearing what Philip was saying. His voice was drowned out by the feeling of Bea’s eyes on him, and Henry could feel himself going redder and redder with each passing second. He wasn’t getting out of this meeting unscathed, as much as he just wanted to eat his lunch in peace. 
“Henry!”
“Sorry, what?”
Philip rolled his eyes, standing up. “Won’t you listen? Friday afternoon, two o’clock sharp we meet with the event planners at Buckingham. Be there.” With the shake of his head and a mutter under his breath, Philip left the room.
“Wanker.” Henry shot Bea a look, shock in his eyes. “Sorry not you, him. I know he’s trying to take the lead and all but he can be such a prick about it.”
He nodded, face reddening again. He was worried he’d be stuck with a permanent blush after this whole ordeal. “So, um, how are you?”
“Oh my god Hen, can we please just forget that I saw what I saw?”
Henry let out the breath he was holding and dropped his head to the table. “Yes please, you have no idea how mortifying that was.”
“Trust me, as your big sister, I have some idea. It never happened, I saw nothing, we’ll continue to live our lives.”
“Right. Yep. Nothing to talk about.”
They both nodded, the silence dragging on, until Bea’s curiosity got the better of her. “So who was on FaceTime then?” 
“I thought we were dropping this—”
“I know! But as your big sister I think I should get to know when you’re dating someone!”
He splutters, wringing his fingers together. “I-I mean, I wouldn’t call it dating per se…”
Bea gasps. “Are we seeing a rare appearance from Oxford slut phase Henry again?”
“No! No, I resent Pez for telling you about that. It’s just the one man, but we haven’t really… we’ve agreed to just keep it casual.”
She raises her eyebrow. “Do I know him? God, it’s not one of Philip’s dryer than toast friends again, is it?”
He chuckles. “No, couldn’t be any more different to be honest.” When he glances at his sister, the look on her face is a genuine one, interested, supportive… since rehab, Beatrice had been able to read Henry like a children’s book. Without the extra substances in her system, he was loud and clear, a whole other person than she’d known growing up, with hopes and dreams, a romantic soul underneath that stony exterior. So when Henry mused on how different this boy was than any of them before, she could tell that this wasn’t just casual to her brother. It was the sparkle in his eye, the lingering smile, the faint blush, Henry liked this one.
“Good. So who is the mystery man then?” 
Henry chances a look at his sister. “If I tell you, you have to promise to keep it secret. I don’t think he’s even out yet really.”
She made a zipping motion across her lips. “Swear it.”
He nodded, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes, wincing a bit when he said, “it’s Alex.” 
Bea tilted her head, furrowing her brows. “Alex…”
“Claremont-Diaz.”
She gasped dramatically as the realization hit. “As in the American president’s son, Alex?”
Henry reached across the table to shush his sister. “Oh my god what did I say, not so loud!”
“Sorry, but my baby brother just told me he’s been low key hooking up with the guy he’s been crushing on for years? How else was I supposed to react, Henry?”
“Hey! I have not been crushing on him for years.”
Bea shoots him a look, a single eyebrow raised, challenging him. “And I never had a crush on any of the Jonas Brothers. Are we going to continue lying about things that are clearly true?”
“Wh-what… how… I barely even knew him until Pip’s wedding, how could I be crushing on him?”
“Did you forget how you clammed up at the Olympics that year? And how you’d always go red when his family was even mentioned? That weekend he was here at KP and you were absolutely peacocking. Oh, what about New Years? I’ve known you your whole life Hen, did you forget? You rolled your eyes at the invitation, but you still had that hint of a smile there. You like him.” Bea slid her hands across the table to take one of Henry’s. “I knew you seemed lighter. These past few weeks, months, whatever. You came back from that gala at the White House and something about you had changed, you had a pep in your step.”
He was silent for a few moments. “Pez is the only other person who knows, but he never read into it as much as you did. I’m scared Bea, I’m scared to say it out loud, cause it’ll make it real.” 
“It’s just me Hen.”
“I—I just… I’m worried that I’ve buggered it up right from the start. I told him we could only be casual.”
“And is that what you really want?”
Henry looked up, dared to glance into his sister’s eyes. “Do you really think a world exists where I can have what I really want?” 
“Pardon my French, but fuck that old cow. You can have what you want Henry, even as a prince. You know dad told me to remind you of that every once in a while before he passed? I’ve not been so good at remembering to do so, but I’m telling you now. You deserve to be happy.”
With the hand that wasn’t in Bea’s grasp, Henry pinched the bridge of his nose as the tears came. 
“Sorry, sorry I just…”
She handed him a tissue, shooting him a watery smile. “I know you miss him.”
He nodded. “I really like him, Bea. Alex I mean. And I think dad would have too.”
Bea laughed, wiping away a tear of her own. “I’m sure he would have loved him. I’m happy for you, Hen.”
“Thanks Bea. And I’m sorry you walked in on… well that.”
She giggled, rolling her eyes in mock disgust. “So how did it happen then?”
“W-what the other night?”
Bea took a hand away from his and whacked him across the shoulder. “No, idiot. I mean in general. You two. Doing… whatever it is you’re doing.” 
“Oh. Um, I kissed him on New Years.”
“At midnight? How romantic!”
“Well, after midnight. See, Nora, you remember her from the wedding, she kissed him at midnight and well, my ego was more than a bit bruised from that so…” 
He continued on, telling her the story of their first kiss, how he’d avoided Alex, and then reunited all in the same month. By the time he’d finished telling her their entire history (save the really dirty details, those memories were just for him), nearly half an hour had gone past, and Henry’s phone was buzzing with a text.
“Is that him now?” Henry blushed, but nodded confirming her suspicions. “How sweet! Send him my love, and that I’ll see him at the next event.”
~~~~~
“And who knows about this?” Zarah looks green, and in just about as much shock as Henry thought she would after finding him in Alex’s hotel room half naked the morning of the DNC.
“Literally no one but you. And the secret service.”
Henry winced. “And Percy.”
“Right, and June and Nora.”
He brightened. “Oh, and I told my sister.”
The smile on Alex’s face made his own wider. “Aw, I didn’t know that.”
“Yeah, she was really happy for us.” 
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charlywrites · 2 years ago
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Requested by anon
Request; Hey lovely, so I've been on a George's video marathon and I saw a interview with Toto talking abt Valtteri and George's crash last year, and how he could still be a Mercedes driver. Soooo, since you're taking requests I was wondering if you could come up something where George's is secretly in a relationship with Toto's daughter (reader) while he's still in William but close to move to Mercedes and she doesn't want to screw things for him but can't keep the secret from Toto anymore
Warnings; not really angsty but still a little bit i guess? italic + italic and bold are for the flashback <3
Note; look at my boy <3
✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩
Over the years, you had met so many drivers and befriended some that were around your age, being the Mercedes’ CEO’s daughter gave you some privileges like walking around the paddock and garage freely.
Most of the times, you would stick around with the Mercedes’ team though, but that was until you met George, one of the two drivers for Williams. Even if you already had friends amongst the other drivers, with George, it was different.
He was just so nice and sweet, it almost felt like it was impossible to have an argument with him. One of the things you loved the most with him was his old fashioned british expression, they would always make you laugh.
Walking around the different garages with Roscoe next to your feet, you were almost regretting when you suggested you would walk him around as he was asking for his walk of the day- it had been raining all morning and afternoon until a couple of minutes ago.
Thinking it was going to be a quick walk and since you loved Lewis’ dog so much, you thought it was going to be fun- you should have guessed that he liked long walks.
You had wrapped your arms around yourself to keep yourself from the cold, you were wearing the Mercedes’ coat and the hood was on your head but it wasn’t as protecting as it seemed. You didn’t understand how Roscoe could enjoy having his paws wet like this.
Especially since the rain was going to pour again soon as you had felt a few droplets falling on your face. Sighing, you tried to hurry Roscoe but he was being his little stubborn self, “ c’mon Roscoe, I’m sure Lewis isn’t going to be too happy if I bring you back soaking wet.”
“ Do you need help?”
Not recognizing the voice, you quickly turned around and saw one of the few drivers you hadn’t properly met yet, “ unless you know how to convince Roscoe to go back to Mercedes’ garage, not really.”
“ Ah yeah, I can’t help with that but I can offer you a place under my umbrella?”
“ That’s very kind, thank you!”
As he got closer to share his umbrella with you, the driver smiled as he presented himself, “ I’m George by the way, it’s lovely to meet you.”
“ I’m y/n, Toto Wolff’s daughter and Roscoe’s dogsitter occasionally.”
Just as you finished presenting yourself, the rain started to fall heavily again, now you had no other choice than quickly head back to the garage, getting to Roscoe, you lifted the dog and held him in your arms.
“ Blimey! The rain is stronger than before, let me walk you and Roscoe back to your team’s garage.”
Hearing the very british expression, you had to hold back a laugh, “ oh god, you’re so british!”
“ What?”
“ I’ve known Lewis for years and he never used that kind of slang I guess? But it’s cute!”
Maybe it played its part to make you fall for George because after knowing him for a few weeks only, you were already developing feelings for him- what felt surreal though, was that your feelings ended up being reciprocated, something you didn’t even dare to imagine at first.
As you two started dating, you agreed to keep it secret for now, after all the season hadn’t ended yet, George was in talk to take Valterri’s seat for the next season and you didn’t want to screw over his opportunity by dating him.
From the very beginning when you agreed on keeping the relationship secret for now, you knew the hardest part about it would be hiding it from your father- you had always been really close to him and you never kept anything important from him.
And you being in love and dating someone was something important. George made you so happy even if the time you had together was always limited and having to hide your happiness was incredibly hard- even more than you imagined.
A couple of times you thought about telling Toto about it, but you felt like you would be selfish to do so. Even if he was most likely going to be happy for you, you didn’t want to take the risk of getting in the way of your boyfriend’s move to Mercedes.
You promised yourself that you would not potentially ruin George’s chances of getting the seat he had always dreamed to have and would wait for the next season to break the news to your family and friends.
———
The past week had been rough for you, as the season was getting closer to its end, you were struggling with keeping your relationship with George secret. At this point, it felt like you were held back and couldn’t enjoy being in love.
You wanted to walk to the paddock with your boyfriend, be able to hold hands in public and kiss him whenever you wanted without having the fear of getting caught by someone. You just didn’t want to hide anymore, the thrill of having to sneak out was long gone.
George’s deal with Mercedes was close to be signed, you hoped that once it would be done, you’d be able to make it official and not wait until the start of the next season- you knew you wouldn’t be able to wait for another couple of months.
Even looking into your father’s eyes was getting hard, and with how down you had been feeling the past days, he was starting to question you about your current mood- he knew something was up but had no idea what it was.
You had talked to George about your struggles and had been very understanding and comforting. He even suggested that you’d tell Toto now instead of waiting until he was officially signed with Mercedes.
It was tempting but you loved George too much to do that, you knew how hard he had worked to get this opportunity- you were also aware of how hard it was for him to drive for Williams after doing so well in F2, he wanted more than to be stuck in the back of the grid.
You had been so lost between your feelings and what you should do about the current situation that you had almost forgotten it was another race weekend and if it hadn’t been for George’s texts reminding you, you wouldn’t have showed up on thursday.
The thursday weren’t the most interesting when you were just there to support the team, it was mostly press conferences and sometimes meeting fans. Most of the times, you’d stay with Angela, your dad or Bono but today you stayed on your own in a corner of the garage.
You had left George not more than ten minutes ago as he was needed for his press conference and you were already back to looking all broody. Trying to focus on something else, you opened your phone and navigated through your apps only to end up scrolling up on your camera roll and look at the album you had containing all the pictures you had taken with your boyfriend.
You were only taken out of your little bubble when you heard your father’s voice next to you,“ we really need to talk, y/n.”
“ About what?”
“ About what’s going on with you. Something happened, I don’t know what but it’s clearly hurting you.”
“ I’m alright dad, nothing happened.”
Saying this was harder than the last time, you had to look at your hands to avoid breaking down, to avoid telling him the truth, you had to keep this for only a few more weeks.
Toto sighed as he sat on the seat next to you, his arm wrapping around your shoulders, he pulled you in a hug, if you didn’t want to talk, the least he could do was to comfort you. But that gesture alone was enough to make you break down, keeping this for you was just too much.
Your reaction was far from being reassuring to your dad who could only worry more, he didn’t want to force the words out of your mouth but he needed to know what was going on, “ you can tell me what’s going on sweetheart, I promise to keep it for myself.”
“ Promise me that you won’t do anything if I tell you.”
“ I promise.”
“ I’ve been dating George for a couple months and I love him so much but please, don’t find another driver to take Valterri’s seat next season.”
Your father frowned at your words, even if the contract wasn’t officially signed yet, nothing would change his mind on the fact that George would be their new driver, “ George is not going to lose his seat, sweetheart.”
“ Really?”
“ Yes, why would he? The fact that he is dating you won’t change a thing, he’s a good guy and as long as he makes you happy, it’s all that matters to me.”
“ So, you’re not upset?”
“ No. All I want for you is to be happy and George seems to do that well, you’re always smiling when he’s around. And I’m going to be honest, I knew already about you two.”
You didn’t expect the conversation to go this well but even less to learn that your father already knew about George and you, “ how?”
“ I’m not blind, y/n. George looks at you the same way I look at Susie and your smile doesn’t lie, the way you smile at him is very telling.”
“ You know you’re the best dad ever?”
“ Well, I try my best.”
Smiling, you wiped the remaining of your tears from your cheeks and hugged your dad tightly- you couldn’t wait to tell George once he’d be out of the conference.
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ohworm-writes · 3 years ago
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main m.list •• •• •• mcyt m.list
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▬▬ Clair de Lune ▬▬
And sometimes I have kept my
feelings to myself, because I could
find no language to describe them in. 
Jane Austen, Sense and Sensibility
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Pairing - irl!Jschlatt x gn!Reader
Warnings - one [ 1 ] suggestive joke , regular Schlatt foolishness
Note - i wrote this in the dead of night, so i apologize if it sounds off in any way. the title of this is based off of my favorite song sharing the name. it’s a beautiful piece, of which i fully reccomend listening to if you’d like! otherwise, i hope you enjoy this.
Word Count - 1.2k
Prompt -  Your lover makes a fool of himself while you’re out shopping, and with some convincing, you decide to join in. 
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You had never particularly minded the fact that you were often the one who went grocery shopping in your relationship. It was never something to be viewed in a negative light, rather it was more of an ‘if we plan to eat something sustainable tonight, I should probably head out to the store.’
Your partner, Schlatt, was a wonderful man. He was caring, funny, charismatic; everything you could have hoped for in a partner. However, ‘good at grocery shopping’ was not something on that list.
Whenever you sent him out to shop on his own, he’d end up forgetting the main objective and come back hours later with $200 worth of items neither of you would ever need, the ingredients for that night’s dinner plan left forgotten on the shelves in the market. 
Instead of viewing the task as a chore, you found it rather calming. Sure, a bustling grocery store with rowdy patrons and underpaid workers wasn’t calming in and of itself, but being able to be out and doing something productive was. Days could be stressful, no matter the cause, and could leave you drained. So, a quick car ride to do some light shopping was a great way to clear your head.
Now, however, you wished you would have done it alone as you normally did.
“Pushing you around in the cart wouldn’t get us kicked out of the store, believe me. Scout’s honor.” 
A sigh leaves your lips as you listen, once again, to the absurd thoughts that seem to pass through your boyfriend’s head and out of his mouth.
“Schlatt, you were never a scout in the first place.”
He feigns offense, bringing a hand up to splay against his chest as you push the rickety metal along down the aisle.
See, you and your partner had both had a rather busy past few weeks. Caught up with work, social lives, and whatever else had plagued the two of you, you seemed to have no time to spend alone with one another. So, when the opportunity presented itself, with both of your schedules cleared for the hour, he took his chance to join you on your little outing. 
Since entering the store not 15 minutes ago, Schlatt seemed to have made it his top priority to embarrass you in any way possible. While this chaos was in character for him, you’d rather not have the other patrons in the store send you looks while your partner makes a fool out of himself. 
“You wound me. But- c’mon! What would they do to us? Kick us out?!”
With slow movements, you bring the cart to a stop in the middle of the aisle, taking an unimpressed glance at him over your shoulder. He has a smug grin on his lips, one where self-confidence seems to radiate off of him.
“That is exactly what they would do.”
Your voice comes out breathy and desperate, but the two of you know that it’s lighthearted. You had always come to adore the little bits he’d do, never minding the stupidity of them. Sometimes you’d even play along! Now, however, you just wanted to finish your shopping and get home.
His grin seems to widen as he tucks both of his hands behind his back, bowing slightly as to appear more innocent. Taking his spot at the side of the cart, he nods his head down the aisle, keeping eye contact with you as he bats his lashes playfully.
“I do believe we have places to be. Chop chop!”
The horrible British accent he puts on cracks your facade the slightest bit, a glimpse of a smile showing on your lips. However, before he can call you out on it, you’re pushing the cart down the aisle once more, Schlatt following suit.
The wheels of the cart squeak against the cheap market floors, providing an unpleasant sound each and every time you turn it more than an inch. Schlatt, of course, takes this as an opportunity to mess with you, purposefully bumping his side into the cart when the store seems to be the most silent. 
Once you reach the produce section, though, that’s where all hell breaks loose. 
While you take your time to look over the different products, Schlatt hums from behind you. 
“I think we should get this.”
A beat of silence.
“We are not buying a fucking eggplant, Schlatt, put it down.” 
You bring your hand up to rest right below your hairline, looking at your boyfriend with an unimpressed look. He holds the vegetable with both hands, his grin widening like a child on their birthday. 
“Look, I’m just saying, we could have fun with it-”
An expression of horror takes over your features as you make quick work to shut him up. 
“We are in the produce section of a supermarket! This is not the time nor the place!”
The desperation in your voice makes him erupt with a laugh you know he’s only doing to annoy you. The shrill sound attracts the attention of other shoppers, most of which shoot the two of you looks. With your face flushed and burning from the second-hand embarrassment, you grab a hold of his arms and lead him away, mumbling ‘sorry’ to the other shoppers as they continue on with their afternoons. 
“You are impossible.”
He only tightens his grip as you lead him back to the cart, grinning from behind you. He lets go of your hand abruptly, long legs carrying him to the cart before you can get there. Sending a look of mischief to you, he grips the handle of the vehicle and runs.
You can only follow after him, watching from behind as he leans over the front of it to gain speed. For a few moments, you only walk after him, keeping him in your sights with slow paces. The second he turns a corner and out of your vision, then you book it. 
You would not be losing track of this idiot right now. 
When you turn the corner of the aisle he had disappeared behind, you see him patiently waiting for you, the shopping cart blocking your access to the rest of the empty aisle. You cast a glance his way, watching as a much softer grin forms on his lips. 
“So, hear me out.”
You can already tell he has something up his sleeve, but decide to humor him, staying silent as he smiles.
“Let me push you around. In the cart. This aisle is empty, so we don’t have any old fucks bothering us.”
You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head at him. 
“Baby, we’ve got to go home and have dinner though-”
“Yeah, but when else are you going to do something like this? It’ll be worth your time, I swear. Just- let me do this for you, okay?”
If it wasn’t for the lovesick expression on his face, you would have told him no and just have gone home with him then and there. But his words stick to you like honey. ‘When else are you going to do something like this.’
“If we get in trouble, you’re doing the dishes tonight.”
For the next few minutes, you let him race you up and down the aisle. More than likely, the store’s patrons and workers can hear your combined laughs and giggles as the two of you have fun. Walled in by the sides of the cart, you let yourself back in the bliss of the pure moment.
With your boyfriend’s wide smile and your own giddy laughter, you swoon. For now, as the lights dim outside the store, you relish the moment, keeping it close to your heart and never letting go. 
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donald4spiderman · 3 years ago
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DON’T WISH ME WELL
one night together can change everything. for better or worse. inspired by ‘don’t wish me well’ by solange.
tom holland x fem!reader
tw: angst, temporary unrequited love
masterlist
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“and i’m going all the way
but i’ll leave on the lights for you
i’m going all the way
and now you’re almost out of view”
YOU NOTICE IT FROM ACROSS THE TABLE: his wide-eyed stare under the dim tungsten glow. The glistening of his irises draws you close. You’re weak but brave, choosing to hold the weight of his gaze for a moment, only for him to glance away meekly. Bashful, he attempts to busy himself with the straw in his glass. The warmth creeping up your neck isn’t visible, but you hate that it’s there in the first place.
Haz and Harry ease the spindling tension between you and Tom, their brash British voices deepened by inebriation. It makes you laugh a little more and think about the boy sitting across from you a little less. You catch his eyes on you in your peripherals but can’t muster the courage to tilt your head to face him. He hasn’t said much all night--not at the restaurant and not at the pub.
“Are you alright?” It’s a stupid question, but you owe it to him to ask.
Your inquisition remedies his silence, “Yeah, I’m alright. Why d’you ask?”
“No reason.” You know why.
Tom nods with pursed lips, taking a sip of his drink and resuming his vow of dissociation. The other boys are nearly blacked-out after multiple rounds of beers and whiskeys. You usher them out of the pub and into their respective cabs. Tom lingers next to you, waiting until the cars are a comfortable distance away before speaking to you.
“Do you wanna come back to my apartment?” He wrings his hands together, teeth gnawing on the flesh of his lower lip.
Your laugh is marked with wariness. “And do what?” The message is clear. Tom pushes forward anyway.
“I don’t know. Watch a movie?” He chuckles, “We’re friends. Friends watch movies.”
“Do they? Do we?”
“Sure, we do.”
“they say i’ve changed
what a pity if i stayed the same”
You huff, “I’m tired, Tom.”
“You’re such a liar.” He rasps, head falling into the cradle of his palms. “I thought you wanted to put it past us.”
You pivot on your heel to walk the three blocks to your apartment. “I don’t think we should see each other so often.”
“(Y/N).” Tom pleads, following your quickened pace with determination. “Don’t you think you’re being a little irrational?”
Halt. “Me? Really? I’m the irrational one?”
“Yes.” He states matter-of-factly. “Just because we…slept together… doesn’t mean you have to throw away years of friendship. I still love you and care about you. C’mon, (Y/N).”
“I don’t think we should hang out anymore.” You repeat once more, this time more firm with less room for negotiation. “At least, not while we’re alone.”
“Why? Is it because you’re afraid of what you’ll do?” The words ‘with me’ are implied, but he saves you the frustration.
“No.” You mutter, head hung low. You can’t even convince yourself that your words are truthful, let alone Tom.
You walk forward; he follows closely behind until you spot the entrance to your building. The brassy twist of the key in the lock fills the atmosphere, and you have to choose whether to accept him inside or send him far away. You make a fatal mistake, a miscalculation in keeping yourself unchanged and your heart guarded: You look at him, eyes glassy and nose rogue-colored, bundled in a sweater and fleece coat. Tom’s already smiling because he knows he has you trapped.
“You can come in.” Shame on you.
Are the two of you destined to repeat history? With a fate so twisted and cruel, it’s almost as though you can’t help yourself. The thought is comforting; blame it on passionate impulse rather than conscious decision. Separation should subdue the unnatural burning you feel for the boy who’s been no more than a best friend for the past three years. Tom feels it without restraint, something so admirable that you can’t bring yourself to do. It’s cowardly, really. And in a way, he’ll always be more deserving than you because of it.
The elevator suffocates you. There are not enough intricacies to distract yourself with, so you succumb to the awkward eye contact with Tom, finally relaxing the tautness in his neck. His posture is stiff until he’s passed the threshold of your apartment door. He grants you space, quietly resigning to your couch as you walk through the kitchen.
“I’m gonna go change.” You announce from the other side of your living room. You don’t bother with formalities or niceties. Believe it or not, before the consequential night that altered your relationship, Tom spent more time in your home than he did his own. You fail to remind yourself that the two of you are salvageable, it wasn’t always like this, and it doesn’t have to be.
Tom bites his tongue, the cheeky phrase ‘Can I come?’ almost slipping past the edge of his teeth. While you wish to be unchanged, he hopes to evolve into a proper relationship with you. He wants to love you all the ways he can without you avoiding him for an entire calendar year.
You return in familiar attire: cotton shorts and Tom’s old Brooklyn Projects shirt. If you were aware, you definitely wouldn’t have intended to wear it with him around. But his heart swells seeing you in it nonetheless. Lowering yourself next to him on the couch cautiously, you glance quickly to the side, unsurprised to discover him watching you with evident tenderness.
“Movie?” You suggest, sinking further into the seat. Tom’s arm hovers over your shoulders but settles onto the back of the sofa in a moment of insecurity.
“Sure.” He smiles. “Are we alright?”
“I don’t know.” You confess. “What does that even mean anymore?”
“I just don’t want you to hate me anymore, that’s all.”
“I don’t hate you, Tom.”
He shrugs, “Sometimes it feels like you do.” A moment of silence passes. “Do you regret it?” He asks.
Your throat feels like it’s filled with molasses. “I-I want to.”
“But you don’t. You don’t regret it.”
“You can’t tell me what I do or don’t--”
“I don’t regret it.” Tom declares, hoping to coax a similar confession out of you. “I don’t regret it at all.”
The words hang in the air until they shatter. Glimmering shards of admission fall onto you like snow, coating your lashes with heaviness, prickling the skin of your arms until the sensation becomes unbearable. But, on the other hand, Tom looks as though he’s welcoming the first snowfall of December--cupped hands collecting the fragments for future reminiscing. He desperately craves the cooling in his interior, while the sudden change in temperature causes you to freeze.
“What are you trying to do, Tom?” You let out a choked sob, suddenly feeling so vulnerable and open.
“I’m laying it all out there,” He states flatly, “That way, you can’t run from it anymore.”
“cause when i say what i mean you ought to know
you got to know
i won’t let it go”
“I miss the old us--before all of this happened.”
“When are you going to admit that it’s partly your fault--all of this.” You glare at Tom, who merely raises his hands up in defense. “I’m serious. You wanted to sleep with me too. You didn’t care about the consequences of your actions at the time, and now that you’re dealing with the aftermath, suddenly it was out of your hands entirely?”
“Stop,” you plead, “Stop, stop, stop.” You rush to the safety of your bedroom, tainted with memories of your lustful night. Tom follows you inside, bracing the door open with his forearm.
“I want to be with you, (Y/N). I want to be more than best friends.” You can’t tune it out any longer. “And if you truly don’t want that, if you’re being honest with yourself and you really don’t want to be with me--I’ll leave you alone, forever.”
It’s your turn to beg for him, “What?”
“I can’t just be friends with you anymore. It’ll kill me, (Y/N).” Tears well in the corners of his eyes.
What the fuck is wrong with you?
“As much as I love you--and I love you more than anything else in the world--I won’t let myself dangle in this space between friendship and love. I know what I want. The real question is, do you? And are you willing to admit it?”
When did you start crying? Between uneven breaths, you taste the salt on your tongue, your body betraying the will of your mind. “I don’t like being rushed.” You whisper, surrendering your heart to the boy in front of you the only way you know how.
Tom chuckles lightly, “I know, I know.”
“I’m scared.” You cry, eyes shut as sobs wrack your wilting frame.
Tom welcomes you into the embrace of his arms, enveloping you tightly. You cling onto him, head buried into the crook of his neck. The soothing shh as he strokes your hair reminds you that he’s always been yours.
“Thank you, Tom.” You mutter.
To him, it sounds a lot like ‘I love you.’
let me know what you think! requests are open!
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r3dac73d · 3 years ago
Text
YALL I STARTED HAVING TOMMYINNIT BRAINROT HERES A SHORT BLURB anyway lemme get to it
You’re streaming with Tommy for the first time, he notices you haven’t exactly been yourself.
You were sitting next to Tommy as he screamed into his mic. He was already a bit suspicious, I mean you haven’t said a single word. He was streaming for about a hour now. When the round of jackbox was over he spoke. “Hold on hold on, Chat we’ll be right back.“
With that he turned off his face cam and muted his stream. Stupidly forgetting to not mute on discord. He turned his head to you, “You alright?” “Yea, why?” You were confused as to why he would ask. “You haven’t said anything, I don’t know but that’s not exactly you.”
You rolled your eyes, you didn’t bother to say anything. He was right. “Oh c’mon,” he scoffed “chat doesn’t bite. Literally” “You know Tommy I might be starting to feel what you call” you mocked his British accent “mYseLf.” You both laughed
“Also you should really remember to mute on discord” “I did though” “Did you, did you really?” You spoke with sarcasm. He went to check discord to show you. He didn’t mute though. Suddenly tubbo spoke. “You didn’t mute, my chat just heard all of that”
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cthulhuliet · 3 years ago
Note
Hi hi ~~ big fan of your Lawlight work * chef kiss * So, if it serves to inspire you I got this little idea! NSFW A huge hc of mine is that Light loves L reading for him with that hot British accent of his, like come on, L`s dubbed voice with a brit accent??*agressive chef kiss* SOO imagine Light resting his head on L`s lap while L is reading to him and things get lewd in the novel :D maybe things coul get lewd in reality too 👀👀 oh, and another hc of mine is that Light rides D like a pro so ... maybe something with both? if you'd like 👉👈 No pressure at all tho!
Thank you so much for your kind words :') I am a fan of your Lawlight work as well, and even though it took a two weeks or so (my bad) I really hope you enjoy! (it also, as always, turned out to be a lot longer than I meant it).
close your eyes and imagine it
3.1k words | AO3 Link | warnings: explicit content, general kink, you know the drill
Most of the dreams were incomprehensible nonsense, and L had just about given up on the month of April when he saw a long entry that made him pause. His eyes widened at the contents. “Huh.”
Light shifted a little bit to make himself more comfortable, eyes only half open, “Hmm? Find something interesting?”
“I am in this one. Did you frequently dream about me?”
There was a beat, and Light responded coolly, “I cannot remember specifics. Hence, the journal.”
L hummed, a small smirk Light could not see grew on his face, “Well then, I will read this one out loud for your benefit.
OR
The one where Light discovers a dream journal he had written during the Kira investigation and can't help but be embarrassed by L's role in his fantasies. L, of course, does not mind. -
“A dream journal?” L questioned. He closed his laptop and Light smirked, raising an eyebrow, holding the notebook in his hands. L crossed the room and took the journal from Light, “Where did you find this?”
Light shrugged, “On my bookshelf with a lot of my other textbooks and such.”
“How old is this?”
“Was in my late teens, I suspect.”
L flipped through the book idly, Light’s neat handwriting was pleasant and clean compared to L’s own scrawled and messy penmanship. The pages slightly stuck together, as the old notebook seemed to have not been touched in years. L stopped at a page and briefly read the contents and looked at the date, before his own eyes widened.
“Hang on, this is during-”
“The Kira investigation? Yeah.” Light’s slight smirk turned into a large cheshire. “I figured you might be interested in reading what I wrote.”
L bit his bottom lip, looking up at Light, one eyebrow raised, “Does the Death Note still give you nightmares to this day?”
Shrugging, Light came up to L and looked over his shoulder at the notebook, “I mean, sometimes? But I also believe that having nightmares is just a part of being a person.”
“Or you have become so numb to your own murderous tendencies the nightmares do not affect you that much anymore.” L muttered, just loud enough for Light to hear.
He did hear him, of course, and he retaliated by shoving L hard enough for him to fall backwards onto their bed. Light socked L on the arm when he flopped down onto his back as well as L went to read Light’s journal to himself.
“Leave me alone, Light, can’t you see I am busy?” L teased, which earned him another hit on his arm, “You are being bothersome.”
Light crossed his arms, now sitting next to L laying down on the bed, “Those are my dreams, you are not reading without me, obviously.”
“Well then lie down so I can read them to you.” Light was the most frustrating man that L had ever been with. He wouldn’t have him any other way.
L sat up and rested his back against the headboard. Light assumed his usual position and rested his head on L’s lap. L idly put his hands through Light soft brown locks, twirling his soft hair through his fingers.
This was not an unusual position to find the pair in. Light often requests that L read to him, the other man finding the restrained but smooth baritone of L’s voice to be incredibly attractive, but also incredibly calming to listen to. It is not the first time his voice has been complimented, and it certainly will not be the last. Sayu has told L multiple times that he should become a voice over actor. He politely declined. The rest of the people do not matter, really. The only praise he needs is when Light humbly hands him a book he reads before bed, and falls asleep to L’s voice quicker than any amount reading on his own.
“‘ April 1st, 2004: I was present for class at To-Oh university, however we were all forced to give a presentation about when we believe all of our classmates will die and why. This was a horribly dark and drab lecture hall, and I had forgotten my cue cards about why Sakurano Mari was going to die due to dementia .’  This is not exactly a fun read.”
“It was not exactly fun to think about either.”
“I am going to find a different one.”
L used one hand to run his fingers through Light’s hair and the other to flip through the journal, skimming through the contents. Most of the recounts were incomprehensible nonsense, though there is no judgement to be had there. Whenever L does sleep, most of his dreams are disconnected fragments of stories -- feelings and emotions rather than a complete narrative.
L had just about given up on the month of April when he saw a long entry that made him pause. His eyes widened at the contents.
“Huh.”
Light shifted a little bit to make himself more comfortable, eyes only half open, “Hmm? Find something interesting?”
“I am in this one.”
“Are you?”
“Did you frequently dream about me?”
There was a beat, and Light responded coolly, “I cannot remember specifics. Hence, the journal.”
L hummed, a small smirk Light could not see grew on his face, “Well then, I will read this one out loud for your benefit:
“‘ Damn that Ryuzaki. He is plaguing my thoughts not only during the day, but I cannot even escape the damn bastard in my dreams’, I love you too, dearest ,” L sardonically snided. Light pinched his thigh , “ ‘Last night's events were particularly egregious, as this is not the first time something like this has happened, but I feel mortified even writing this down. Though, maybe if I recount what happened (like with the nightmares) these dreams will go down in their numbers.
“‘Ryuzaki and myself were in the library studying next to one another. I was eating a biscotti with tea. As it was in my mouth, Ryuzaki came up and bit off the end of my biscotti and just chuckled at me. I wasn’t sure what to do or say, but I just know I felt really hot an -’”
“L…” Light gripped his thigh dangerously, “What are you doing.” It was phrased as a question, but Light said it as a command. He ignored him. Light was never the one to give out commands anyway.
“‘ I cannot remember much but the next moment Ryuzaki’s lips were on my neck. Everything was fuzzy, but I could feel him biting marks into me and was teasing me by grinding against my di- ’”
Light growled, “I’m taking this away from you. Now.” He moved to sit up, but L’s hand was still in his hair. L gripped his roots harshly and shoved him back down. Light whined at the action, swallowing hard.
“You are not going anywhere.” That was a command, and Light took it as such.
“This is mortifying…” Light muttered against the mattress, his speech breathy.
L hummed and pulled Light’s hair up, forcing him to look at him, “I disagree.” He lied. “You are going to be good and listen to me read this whole thing.”
Light laughed, cocky, though his eyes were glassy with flushed cheeks, “Oh yeah? Or what?”
“Or how about I get to come and you don’t, hmm?” Light opened his mouth and closed it again, face flushed with shame. L let go of his hair and Light buried his head in L’s lap. L smirked and chuckled, “You are so adorable, all blushy and embarrassed…” Light whined at that, running his fingernail down the inside of L’s thigh.
“‘ This is not the first time this has happened, though I have to admit, it was the best incident. Even hazy, I had never felt that sensitive and stimulated. I just wanted to stay like that forever.’” L had one hand on the book, the other held a distracted, but firm, grip in Light’s hair, who was presently biting his lip and running soft strokes over L’s cock. “‘It was even better when I got to put my mouth on Ryuzaki. I have never sucked a dick before, so my brain could only supply what it imagines it feels like, but it was not even that that made it so good. Ryuzaki would hold my hair tight and look down at me while I was on my knees. He kept telling me that I was a slut, but that I was doing such a good job for him. Even before this I thought Ryuzaki had such a nice voice, I wish I could hear him more…’ You think my voice is nice, huh?” L asked, keeping his voice level, as Light’s feather touches became firm palming.
He groaned again, “Tch, shut up.”
“No.” L pulled him by his hair, forcing Light to look him in the eye, “I think it is time you shut up.” In only a few seconds, L manhandled Light and dropped him to his knees on the floor at the edge of the bed. L sat at the end, grabbing the journal with one hand and undoing his jeans with the other. “How many times have you sucked dick since writing this? Hundreds?” Light finished the job of removing L’s pants and underwear, his cock standing erect in front of him, “C’mon cock-slut, show me what you got.”
Light eagerly took L in his mouth, expertly utilizing his tongue on his head. L closed his eyes and tried to not become overwhelmed by the sensation. He opened his eyes to see Light’s cocky doe-eyes staring back up at him.
“What was it that you dreamed of? My hand tight in your hair, fucking your mouth, telling you you’re being a good slut, right?” L asked, rhetorically as he returned his hand to harshly grip Light’s locks. He slowly moved Light’s head up and down, spit dribbled out of the corners of his mouth. Light’s face was blood red with humiliation and lust, it was perfect.
L bit his lip as Light took him all the way down his throat, refusing to be the one to break first. He picked up the journal again, eyes focusing and unfocusing on the work in front of him. “‘ Ryuzaki kept calling me good boy, telling me I was taking him so well, and never had anyone ever made him feel as good as I was. I felt so overwhelmed. I had never felt such extreme desire for anyone, but I think at that moment I would do anything for him.’ Do you still want to hear all that? Still want me to call you a good boy, and tell you you are taking me so well?”
Light groaned around L’s cock, the vibrations from his throat sent a shiver up his spine and L suppressed a needy whine on his end. After years of doing this, Light knows exactly how to push him to the very edge-- to give him so much and yet not enough.
“‘ My memory gets a little fuzzy here, but Ryuzaki laid down on the desk, and he grabbed me by the thighs so hard I think I would have had bruises in reality. I grabbed him by the throat and rode him on the desk. A part of me was worried, because the conference room in the library was all glass, but also my head was so hazy and it felt so good.’” L pressed a thumb against his lips, “Had Light fucked himself on toys at this point?”
He pulled off of L, slowly stroking him as he thought about it, “I think at that time I had. I only realized I was not straight shortly after high school, and my sexual drive moved pretty fast after that.”
“‘Shortly after high school’, shortly after meeting me, right?” L smirked. Light opened his mouth to attempt a retort, but just narrowed his eyes.
“Such an egomaniac you are,” Light scoffed, “Not everything is about you.”
“No, not everything. But this is.” L reached under their bed and pulled out a box of toys and lube. He casually tossed the bottle and a large blue dildo in front of Light, “Stretch yourself open with that. I want to see you.”
“You don’t want to do it yourself?”
“Like you have earned that privilege yet.” L leaned forward (careful to not fall off the edge) and grabbed Light by the chin, forcing him to look L in the eye, “You’re going to open yourself up on that cock, and when your slutty hole is ready for me, you can ride me like in your fantasies.”
He could almost see the blood rushing to Light’s ears-- being literally talked down to-- condescended and scolded like a child. And yet, his pupils were blown all the way out, L barely seeing the amber color of Light’s eyes, and his jeans and underwear were, of course, already halfway to his ankles.
Light took the tip of the toy and fucked his mouth in and out with it, eyes never leaving L’s. He was already 3 fingers deep inside of himself, lewdly moaning around the cock very intentionally.
“This is a good look for you,” L remarked, breathily, slowly stroking his own cock.
Light suctioned the dick to the hardwood, and hovered over it, teasing his hole with the tip, “Well, if you are going to keep calling me a slut- fuck… I might as well lean into it.” Light bottomed out on the toy, one hand running through his hair, another sucking on two fingers as he slowly moved. Light, flushed and fucked out and using himself, was the pinnacle of sex and desire-- L began to question his decision about who exactly this was a punishment for.
“Ngh, this cock is so big , L… But it doesn’t feel nearly as good as yours.” Light dragged his teeth across the bottom of his lip, pointed looking at L’s cock, now leaking precum. Light knew he was getting to L. He knew exactly how he looked and exactly what L was thinking.
Fucker. Two can play at that.
L slowed down his own movements, raising an eyebrow at Light, “A common whore like yourself would be satisfied with any cock inside of him. You want mine so bad? Close your eyes, think…” L held the book open with one hand, “‘ I feel like I am going crazy. I am supposed to want this stupid bastard dead. And yet all I want right now are my hands on him and his on mine-’” Light groaned, finally touching his neglected aching cock, “‘-and it is so hard to focus on bringing him down, when the entire time I am dreaming about Ryuzaki’s voice in my ear, and my hands around his throat, and his tongue and mouth on me everywhere . I may just have to take care of him so I stop feeling this way... ’ My my, Kira... ” Light groaned at the name, “I thought you would be a bit more careful than to let your inner thoughts so out in the open like this. What would have happened if someone had gotten a hold of this?”
“I- Fuck- Academic rivalries are not uncommon....”
“I wanted to sentence you to death and you still could not stop thinking about me inside of you-”
“Oh shit L…”
“-or my hands on your cock or my fingers stretching you wide open. You still want me to whisper in your ear and moan , telling you what a good boy you are, right?”
“Yes… yes I want that L…”
L tutted, “And yet you aren’t a good boy. Desperate and begging… Writing down naughty thoughts and fantasies about someone who you wanted to die?” L shook his head, casually tossing the book aside. He reached for his own cock again, slowly stroking it watching Light fall apart, giving himself dual sensations, “Kira needs to make up his mind about what he wants. Because I don’t think he is good at all.”
“ L please…”
“Please, what?”
“Please let me on your cock.”
“Why would I allow that?”
Light stopped his movements on the dildo, only slowly stroking his cock at the same speed as L was his own, “I am not a good boy, I am a cock-slut for you, and only ever you. Fuck me please,” Light begged, broken and desperate.
L stood up and grabbed Light’s hands, pulling him off of the toy. He brushed the hair out of Light’s eyes and pulled Light on top of him, “So good, Kira. You don’t have to be a good boy for me, you can just be my good slut.”
He kissed L, hard, biting his bottom lip as he lined himself up on L’s dick and sunk down on him.
“ Fuck, you feel so much better than that cheap plastic,” Light straddled L properly, pressing his hands against L’s chest as he rode him, not wasting anytime picking up speed.
“Such a good whore for me, Kira,” L said, kissing his wrist, “You really do ride cock like you get paid to do it.”
“I know,” Light said, breathy and fucked.
L huffed, “A bit cocky, aren-”
“Now it’s your turn to shut up,” Light said, pressing down on L’s pressure points, his fingertips pushing hard enough into his throat it will surely leave marks against his pale skin.
L’s eyes rolled in the back of his head and Light moved his hips faster, L snapping back up to meet his thrusts, which quickly became sloppy as black dots began dancing in the corners of his eyes and his lungs started burning. His eyes welled up with tears and his entire body was on fire, his limbs going limp. He felt the white, hot edge so close and tangible. Every thrust felt like a rattle of electricity hitting every nerve and every part of his consciousness so closely and he just needed more -- Light relented, moving his hands away from his throat. L eyes snapped open wide and he coughed, taking heavy breaths. Tears fell from the corners of his eyes, and he dug his fingertips into Light’s waist, harshly grabbing him by the hips.
“L? I’m sorry, you told me you would tap out if-”
“Kira, more-- again-- now.” L commanded, and Light did not hesitate. He grabbed him by the throat and put his fingers in L’s mouth for good measure. Light was riding him with expert pace and precision, his lower body strength and years of running paying off. L’s legs trembled, and he used the last bit of his unfucked mind to dig his nails into Light’s hips and rock him faster and faster on his cock, reaching that beautiful and terrible and intense edge.
“ Ah- L! ” Light comes only a few seconds before L himself, moaning around Light’s fingers as he loosened his grip, but still only letting a fraction of the air healthy for the human brain into his head.
Light did not move himself off of L immediately. He moved his hand away from his throat, but kept small pressure on his neck with one of his thumbs.
“What are you doing?” L muttered. Light said nothing. L opened his eyes, tapping him. “Light?”
Light blinked, looking back, “Sorry, was feeling your pulse.”
“Why?”
“Wanted to make sure I didn’t kill you.”
L smiled softly, “Don’t want me dead anymore?”
“Sometimes. Certainly not like this, it’s too personal.”
“What, killing me while my cock is in your ass is too close for comfort?”
“Something like.” Light smirked and pressed a soft kiss against L’s lips.
After cleaning up, Light told L he wanted to burn the dream journal to prevent further embarrassment.
“Over my dead body.” L said, holding the notebook just out of reach.
Light smirked, “I have no problem arranging that.”
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omg-im-such-a-masochist · 4 years ago
Text
☕️WOULD YOU FANCY A CUP OF TEA?☕️
Prompt: This was an idea that @drewmcintyrekoccsrocbwdgfan gave me in a cold winter night of 1845, and I was only able to finish it now 😂 Sorry this took me so long, girl! But hey, better late than never, right? 😂😘
Word count: Long-ish
Pairings: Drew McIntyre x Reader
Warnings: Fluff, a reader with a ‘no no to the kids’ policy, a Drew who loves children (and is a teasing bastard), a sister who’s a pain in the ass and a niece that has a very smart mind (to say the least 🤣)
Editor: @thenightmareismyreality
Tag: @marlananicole , @akiko-tanaka , @blondekel77 , @theworldofotps , @sassymox , @new-zealand-chic , @yungbludjazz360 , @drew-is-boo
Notes: It’s a yes for Drew and a no to the kids for me 😂 If you’d like to check out my previous works you can find them on my Masterlist 😉
“UNCLE DREW” Emily screamed and ran as fast as her little legs could
“There she is!” He squatted down and grabbed her in his arms, before standing up and spinning her around
“She was so excited to see him” Annie, my sister, said
“I can’t imagine why” I joked, which made her laugh
We both knew Drew loved children and Emily somehow knew that, since she used all of her 4 years old wits to make Drew play any games she wanted to.
“Where are you and Bob going anyway?” I asked her
“We’re going to a fancy restaurant” She clapped, excitedly
“Uuuhhh..Bob wants to get some, huh?” I teased
“Ewww, shut up” She laughed
“I’m happy for you, sis! You guys deserve some alone time”
“Thanks” She smiled “It’s nice to have some adult time, with no kids around...I love Emily, but-”
“You can’t wait to get rid of her?” I joked
“Why are you so mean?” She tried to hold back a laugh, but failed “I don’t want to get rid of her! But kids do make you forget how it was before having them, so this is just a nice change for a night. Besides” She rested her hand on my belly “I’ll owe you a babysitting night for when you and Drew have your baby”
“Oh God, NO!” I slapped her hand away “You better knock on wood, you bitch!” I scowled
“What do you have against kids anyways?” She asked, laughing
“I’m not very fond of them, and you already know that” I frowned
“What will you do when Drew says he wants a baby with you?” She teased
“I’ll tell him to get a divorce and find another woman to pop out babies with”
“Yeah, right. Of course you will!” She said, with an incredulous tone
“Auntie Y/N, I need to pee” Emily tugged on my t-shirt
“Okay, let’s go” I held her tiny hand as we made our way to the bathroom
“Don’t want them, huh?” Annie screamed, and I pretended to scratch the back of my neck just so I could flip the bird at her
………………………………………………………….
I watched Drew and Emily play tea party. She grabbed her little teapot and three cups, one for her, one for Drew and one for Ruffles - her teddy bear
“Would you fancy a cup of tea?” She asked Drew, with a British accent she picked up from Bob (since he was from London)
I couldn’t help but laugh at her tiny figure holding the tea cup with her pinky up, and Drew struggling to hold the cup handle with his thick fingers.
I had to admit it was one of the most adorable scenes I’ve ever seen in my life.
“Uncle Drew, be careful! It’s very hot” She warned him “You have to blow on it, like this” She began to blow on her tea cup
“Oh” Drew said and repeated her actions
She offered a piece of her plastic cake and he accepted, complimenting her cooking skills.
After they were done, she asked if she could braid his hair, and of course he obliged
Her attempt at braiding turned his beautiful dark hair into a messy knot, but he didn’t mind whatsoever
They played spa day (for which she requested cucumber slices, so they could place them on their eyes), she painted his nails baby pink, to match hers. He played a very concerned doctor for a sick Ruffles, who turns out, just had too much honey for lunch, which caused him to have a stomach pain.
We all had dinner and then sat down to watch Beauty and The Beast, and in the middle of the movie Emily fell asleep on my lap.
“I’ll take her to bed” Drew whispered, picking her up in his arms
I watched him carefully carry her up the stairs, and felt my heart swell at watching such an adorable moment.
Drew returned a few minutes later and sat beside me as I searched Netflix for a movie. He placed his hand on my thigh and looked at me with puppy dog eyes
“What?” I asked, confused
“I was thinking that, maybe we should try for one” He tried his luck
“Try for one what?” I played dumb
“You know...a baby”
“Oh God, you too?” I rolled my eyes for dramatic effect “First Annie bugging me to be a baby factory, and now you! What’s up with you people and babies?”
“What’s wrong with them?” He asked, slightly offended
“Everything” I mumbled
“I think you would be a great mom, love”
I looked at him with a disgusted look on my face “Try again, Drew”
He laughed, before saying “You would look pretty cute with a baby bump” He smirked
“Ewww, no” I shoved him away when he tried to caress my belly
“I thought you liked to make babies” He said, quickly pinning me down on the couch
“I like the process of making them but not having them! There’s a big difference, you know?”
“C’mon, lass. Wouldn’t you like to have a little one running around, calling you mommy?” He teased, caressing my ribs softly
The bastard knew I couldn’t think straight when he talked to me or touched me like that.
“No” I shivered, when his fingertips lightly stroked over the tips of my breasts
“Are you sure?” He whispered, nibbling my bottom lip
I sighed in defeat “Damn you, McIntyre”
As I pulled his body closer to mine….
Please if you’re comfortable with it, let me know your thoughts on this? Feedbacks are always appreciated 🥰😘
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embrassemoi · 3 years ago
Text
Surrounded by the Moon and Stars ✷ 31
Pairings: Sirius B, F!Reader, Remus L  Warnings: Language, smoking weed, shitty parenting, mentions of death A/N: more of a filler but it helps establish stuff. *unbeta'd
【 Masterlist | Previous Chapter | ao3 】
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Chapter 31: Drowning on Dry Land
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The week before her flight back, Matthew’s parents invited her over for dinner.
Waiting to greet them at the door was Mrs. and Mr. Gaplin. Matthew’s father, a Half-Maj, was a Potioneer while his mother, an Old-Maj, was a Court Scribe. They wore large, kind smiles as Mrs. Gaplin pulled her into a tight, crushing hug.
After pleasantries, she and Matthew kicked off their shoes while his parents ushered them to the dining room.
“How are you darling? '' Mrs. Gaplin asked, floating plates in their direction as everyone began helping themselves to food. “Matt wouldn’t stop talking about you since we knew y’were coming.”
She side-eyed Matthew who groaned loudly. “Did not!”
“Sure thing,” she added, which caused Matthew to slump in his chair as his parents laughed at him.
It was a nice, charming evening; filled with laughter and heartfelt conversations. His parents continued to gloat about Mathew’s achievements that he hadn’t told her. It caused him to almost get up and run out of the room from embarrassment before moving to boast about Y/N. Even Mr. Gaplin asked her regarding her OWLs which pleasantly surprised her.
A few times, Mr. Gaplin pressed a few cheeky kisses to his wife’s face as Matthew made loud retching noises.
“Disgusting!”
Mr. Gaplin laughed. “Ya sixteen. Suck it up.”
“But you’re still my baby!” Mrs. Gaplin cooed, getting up to collect the plates.
Matthew tried to look insulted but she could see the small smile that threatened his lips as jealousy nipped at her toes.
The next few days were spent staying at the Gaplin household. Matthew’s parents insisted constantly that she should stay over so they could utilize the little time they had left before leaving. At first, the idea made her feel intrusive. Although, her mother hadn’t returned to the brownstone house, preferring to sleep in the on-call rooms at the Brooklyn Memorial Hospital. It quickly got lonely and boring before Y/N finally agreed. Besides, Mrs. and Mr. Gaplin were only around for breakfast and dinner - working for the day but never failed to return; always wearing larger smiles than the previous night.
They made her feel welcomed and warm - even taking her and Matthew to the local pictures. They included her in everything, even their trivia and board games after dinner.
It was quite the change compared to her family life.
Then an identical routine ensued. She would wake up, get ready for the day; spend hours with Matthew; then twilight fell as they stayed awake into the early hours of the morning.
The day before she was due to leave, she and Matthew ran up to his room after dinner. He went to lean on top of the small coffee table, rolling up a joint as she collected her possessions scattered around his room; not wanting to leave it for the last minute.
“Fancy some grass?” He asked in a poor British accent.
“Nah,” she shook her head, “But thanks love.”
Mathew’s smile turned bashful as he stood, turning on the radio in the background. She moved to open his window which was just above the roof of his shed as she stepped out with steady feet. Perching herself down on the blankets and pillows they hauled outside the night prior, she stared at the glowing city splayed in front. From the window, The Velvet Underground flowed softly.
Matthew proceeded to hop out, sauntering over as he threw a flirtatious wink.
“Brough this,” he said, tossing the camera he’d taken from her bag. She caught it as he nestled beside her and lit the joint; placed in his mouth. Billows of smoke clouded around them while she snapped a few photos of the view.
“Ya sure you gotta leave?” Matthew whined, embers of the end of the joint sparking with another huff. “Maybe you can smuggle me. Shove me into that trunk.”
She pulled the camera away from her face, inhaling the earthy, pungent scent. Her head felt a bit lightheaded from it. “A hardcore criminal at sixteen?”
Matthew was mildly amused until a troublesome look passed through his features. “Um — name something ya miss most about home.”
Home. What a funny word — place — feeling. Home was supposed to be something that made your heart glow, feel warm and happy — by that definition, a year ago home would’ve been her little house back in Toronto with the beautiful maple trees swaying in the backyard. Or home would’ve been Ilvermorny and its tall ivory walls. But now, London, or maybe just Hogwarts, had become her home. The scrolls around the Herbology greenhouse, the library, sneaking around past curfew; the Black Lake, Hogsmeade — Lily, James, Marlene, Dorcas, Remus, Regulus…
Unsure of what to say, she opted for, “You?”
Matthew rolled his eyes, bringing the joint to his lips. “Real charmer.” Then, smoke surrounded them. “But really.”
“Why?”
“C’mon! I need an answer! — I don’t know… say somethin’ like… lobstah.”
She chuckled. “Lobster? Really?”
“Or coffee from ya regular cafe.”
Deliberating it for a second, lips tugged up. “Coffee Crisp.”
He snorted. “A candy bar? Really?”
“Or Ketchup chips. Haven’t seen them in London yet.”
“That’s fucking disgusting.”
And then the silence returns but it makes Matthew shuffle in his spot. He blurted out, “Go — more brit insight.”
Y/N felt a bit hazy from the secondhand smoke. “More? You’ll get bored.”
“I won’t,” Matthew replied quickly, sounding oddly sincere. “Please, just… go on. Tell me everything.”
“Um… a friend of mine says crikey a lot. I think it just means to be mildly surprised? — They don’t say bloody or blimey as much as you’d think… Oh! Tea — they really drink that much tea. Also —”
Continuing, Matthew shut off again, going completely silent — not once speaking up or adding funny commentary; only staring at her, simply watching.
“Okay,” she turned to take the joint from his hand, “You're freaking me out. Spill, what's up?”
“S’nuthing.”
Whack!
“Jeez! Would ya stop wiv that! Gonna kill me…”
“Spill.”
“Fine! It’s just that…'' Matthew shifted, obscuring his face. Maybe if she didn’t feel so fuzzy, or if there wasn’t the smoke coming from the blunt or her small headache forming, she would’ve picked up on all the little signs. “It’s just —” he sighed, “I wanna hear ya talk — commit it to memory.”
“Obsessed with me? Not new.”
But that seemed to trouble him more. “It’s just… I don’t know if or when I’ll hear it again…” He looks up to the city in front. “Ya my… best friend. Could never forget ‘bout ya, but s’hard — keepin’ in touch.”
She pats him, encouraging and smiling. Her voice was hopeful, so much so that it made Matthew’s lip quirk up. “We’ll find each other. Always.” She said simply. “You and me, we’re like… salt and pepper. Soap and water — Hansel and Gretel!”
“Fuckin’ Dr. Seuss,” he smiled, that worried look fading away.
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The warm summer breeze flowed around them, just as the sun peeked above the airport. Expanse, clear skies with blue mingled with deep purples and pinks shimmered against the metal from the building.
“Gonna miss ya,” Matthew muttered into the crown of her head. Her mother didn’t want him to come, but Y/N simply ignored that request as he came to send her off.
“Don’t get mushy on me now,” she joked but felt her throat become tight.
“Betta get goin’ — Doc’s lookin’ like she’s ‘bout to butcher me if ya don’t.”
She snickered, pushing Matthew’s shoulder as she picked up her bags, walking backwards while waving. “Write me!”
“Course I will! Until next time!”
“Till next time!”
Once the plane took off, awkwardness swelled among the two women. Not once had her mother said anything to her — not to apologize or see how she was doing — although they never really did talk much. Honestly, she half-expected her to leave her in New York with the Gaplins. Easy to dispose of her.
The next few days Y/N, poorly, attempted to fix her sleeping schedule. It was a miracle that she managed to get up before dinner as her head poked into the master bedroom.
She cleared her throat, feeling herself swaying in place. “Um — hi. I’m making dinner tonight.”
Her mother was dressed in a simple, yet sleek dress. She was bent over, putting on high heels as she looked up.
“The hospital is throwing a party for me — the surgery was a success.”
“That’s amazing! Er — will you be back for dinner though? It’s just that I leave soon and... two parties are better than one.”
She considered her for a long time, eyes mostly distracted by her hair slowly changing to a different colour.
“Sure. But I have to go now.”
“Right, sorry, have fun.”
Thudding down the stairs and the door clicking shut, she followed not too long after. Making her way to the kitchen, she picked up a dusty cooking book, blowing off the dust and cracked it open; flicking through the pages.
Deciding on the seemingly easy noodle dish, she rushed out of the house to the local grocery shop for ingredients. It would be the first time they would be spending any time together. It had to be perfect. But she overestimated that no matter how closely she stuck with the dishes’ instructions, the outcome was a disaster.
The noodles somehow were rock hard. The sauce she made looked grey and was chunky, similar to badly mixed concrete and it tasted horrid. At one point, even the stove exploded into flames as she had to grab her wand and use magic to extinguish the fire.
Potions... She could use a cauldron, use multiple ingredients, make some of the most complicated spells and even had tricks of her own to make the process easier but she couldn’t make a simple dish…
Her face screwed together as she glanced up to the clock; she was going to come home soon as the dinner she made was disastrous. She panicked, cleaning up everything in a rush and decided to order food.
Waiting patiently at the dinner table, her eyes fluttered up to the clock in anticipation. She felt giddy, a surge of excitement rattling throughout her bones at the prospect. Her mother wanted to spend time with her! And she should be home any minute.
But then a minute turned to two, then five, ten, twenty, thirty — then an hour ticked by.
And then another.
Y/N got up, her chair squeaking loudly. Losing all her appetite, she went to her room, sleeping in early.
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August 20th, 1976
Going through the potential NEWT courses she could take was the highlight of her day. The possibilities were endless.
Wanting to take Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfigurations and most of all, Potions, left her excited for the school year.
But the more she thought about the upcoming school year or potential courses, she was left to contemplate what ther5 future entailed.
Was she ready to give up magic? Something that fundamentally altered her life and moulded her into what she was? Magic was her essence, something she developed and nurtured — but to put her life in danger…
Rethinking that word again: home… Was London her home? Was she willing to leave, move again to be safer? But practicing magic around the world these days for New-Majs was dangerous. Or the potential danger she would put her mother in if she continued with it?
But magic… Maybe home wasn’t necessarily a place — but rather something she carried. In all sense, magic made her heart glow, feel warm, safe and happy — it felt like what home was supposed to feel like. And the idea of being ripped away from it, forcing herself to live a normal, Muggle life…
Magic was home.
So die, but have what she cared and loved most was by her side or live a dull life without magic — ensuring her life would be miserable.
There was a clicking of shoes in the hallway that snapped her out of her thoughts. Her mother came walking by.
Lips smushed shut into a tight line, still annoyed from the other night but was determined to spend some time with one another.
“I was planning to go to Diagon Alley for the first time — to get my textbooks... '' She stood awkwardly. “Do you want to come with me?”
“I can’t,” she replied, so quickly that it had Y/N almost scoff in disbelief. “Work. But have fun.”
She sighed but still waved her off and said a small, ‘I love you, stay safe.’ Her mother only gave her a look, something unreadable and left without a word. With a heavy heart, she grabbed her purse filled with gold and left for Diagon Alley.
Passing through the Leaky Cauldron was an adventure in itself. The shabby, tiny pub was jammed with wizards and witches zipping by.
Diagon Alley was bustling with so much magic she could feel it pumping through her blood. Students were hypnotized by the shiny new Firebolt on display; others were giggling, running around with shopping bags while older witches and wizards took a scroll. Her head turned in every direction; walking into the Apothecary, a potions ingredients and book shop.
Emmeline was there. She gave a tight-lipped smile which she returned.
Emmeline by every definition was nice, extremely kind and neither girl ever had a problem with the other. James was the problem and Y/N would gladly stay out of their feud.
Passing clamouring students, she managed to get all her supplies but stopped in front of the potion ingredients. She took a few minutes, flicking through the Advance Potions textbook and grabbed everything listed needed for most of the potions.
She made her way around Diagon Alley, going through many shops. The shelves were stacked high to the ceiling with books and materials. She spent more time than necessary there but it was beautiful.
As she was paying for her Herbology textbook, a large boom! rumbled the ground. Y/N took her bags, ready to sprint to the Leaky Cauldron but the shouts caught everyone’s attention.
“WE WILL NOT BURN WITH THEM!” A crowd of witches and wizards shouted. Their wands were transformed into microphones as a few shot fireballs up in the air.
“What’s happening?” A woman asked an old wizard. He only shook his head, grabbing a copy of the Daily Prophet, handing it to the witch.
On the front page, there were moving photos of people protesting, similar to the wizards and witches currently shouting.
‘Protests Break out in Light of Muggleborns and Halfbloods Burned Alive
Voldemort and his followers have been attacking Muggleborn and ‘blood traitor' families with the usage of fire. By burning them alive, or their houses. They bonded the witch or wizard with magic, making it impossible to apparate or leave their houses. Their broken wands were found at the scene.
Since then, protests all around Britain and Scotland have broken out. The Ministry of Magic —’
“WE WILL NOT BURN WITH THEM!” The crowd chanted.
Rage filled every inch of her body as she stomped out of Diagon Alley.
If she wanted to stay in the magical world, she had to be the greatest at whatever she did, because if she wasn’t, someone of her status was never going to get anywhere.
Magic was home, and she wasn’t going to let them take it from her. She didn’t want to surrender. They weren’t going to take that away from her.
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Immediately after Diagonal Alley, she began working; taking in her thoughts from earlier to heart.
Making sure to cover any windows from prying eyes, Y/N fiddle with first with new charms. Still unassured by her abilities in Charms, she considered taking another class before realizing all the different routes it led to. To become a Healer, Auror or Potioneer, she needed Charms.
Multiple charms backfired, causing them to ricochet off the walls, leaving a dent or chipping the wallpaper.
After trying out more than half the Charms in the book, there was one spell in particular that she attempted to cast many times, but without fail, was never able to properly cast it. Frustrated, her hand made a sharp flick and the spell spurted out instantly.
She tried again with the same hand gesture. To her astonishment, the charm produced easily. Quickly, she jotted down the note in her book.
Next, she glossed over her Transfigurations and Defense Against the Dark Arts book until her eyes caught onto the word: werewolf.
She learned briefly about werewolves, but that was in third year. And now that she knew a werewolf, it would be good to rehash it.
A werewolf, also known as a Lycanthrope, is a non-magical or magical being who transforms under the rising of the full moon. However, non-magical beings have a greater risk of dying rather than turning.
As the name suggests, werewolves are closely related to the non-magical animal, wolves. However, they have distinct characteristics that make them easily identifiable from wolves.
She flipped the page.
Wolfsbane flowers are poisonous to the non-magical world but it has been proven to have no effects on werewolves like they do on wolves. Werewolves are immune from the poison they emit and there are reports that Wolfsbane flowers help alleviate symptoms.
She underlined that section.
It’s a uniquely magical illness known to spread by saliva and blood. Werewolves are dangerous, blood-thirsty beasts — she flipped the page.
They cannot choose to transform and will no longer retain their human mind. Given the opportunity, they would slaughter their loved ones — flipped the page.
A mixture of powdered silver and dittany applied to bites help seal bite wounds. It’s also commonly put in liquid and digested in anticipation of full moons to help with the symptoms of transforming.
Y/N’s face scrunched as she continued to read.
There is no known cure Potion used to help treat lycanthropy.
She felt oddly intrusive knowing parts about Remus’ condition. But then questions arose. How were there no Potions of any kind there to help werewolves during their transformation?
Pushing the thought away, she turned to the cauldron, picking a potion to brew. They all were fairly easy, some she’d even done before just by playing around. But one potion that grabbed her attention was Draught of Living Death. Even at Ilvermorny, that potion was notoriously difficult.
Starting up the cauldron, she grabbed hold of the sopophorous bean. However, it kept jumping when she tried to cut it. She quickly resorted to another method, running down to her kitchen and grabbing the handheld garlic press, placing the bean inside, squishing it down as so much juice spurted out, even going all over her clothing.
The potion turned into the light lilac like suggested. But then as she stirred, her potion quickly became ruined as she restarted immediately.
Hours ticked by; several items in her room were Transfigured into cauldrons, as she poured the existing solution into the nine other cauldrons as she conducted her experiment.
Stirring counterclockwise was a sham, so she stirred clockwise. Nothing, the potion went bad. The next cauldron, she stirred counterclockwise and then clockwise, alternating between every stir. It showed promising progress before it turned a bright red after the seventh stir, bubbling over.
The next cauldron, she stirred counterclockwise, then clockwise after the seventh stir as the potion turned a pink pale. That’s what the book said would happen. She quickly cleared the rest of the cauldrons, pouring in the pink liquid just in case.
She continued to stir until it became a clear liquid. Surely, that was good enough but she could never be sure. After all, she didn’t know if this was what it was supposed to look like.
Deeply immersed, she hadn’t realized how late it got.
She laid on her bed, her light on as she read the scribbles on the margins of the books she'd penned. The textbook was outdated and everything she’s written down, there were easier ways to perform spells, create Potions and more. The other books must’ve been outdated too.
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August 22nd, 1976
Today, her attention was drawn to her Herbology textbook as she flipped right to the medicine section. Y/N had sneakily stolen a few of her mother’s medical journals as she scribbled down notes.
She flicked through the diagrams. Wizards and No-Majs were different when it came to their bodies and sickness, she knew that, but their anatomy was still the same.
An opera played in the background as she sat in front of the television. It filled the silence as her mother came from behind her, creeping her way closer to the door.
Y/N called out from where she sat. “Care to join me?”
“Can't, work.” She grunted out.
She placed the pen down, full attention drawn to her. “I only have a few days until school starts… you can’t spend some time?”
Her mom wasn’t looking at her, ostensibly staring at the floor, anywhere other than her face.
“It’s not that interesting, but um - I need help with medical terms and illnesses. You’re the best at that!”
“I can’t,” she said roughly. “Can't you see? You have to stop bothering me when I’m busy.” And then she left again, leaving her alone. Y/N would’ve been more bothered had she not been so focused on her studies.
There was a pattern.
In the Herbology textbook, in the werewolf section, there were a few ingredients used to help alleviate symptoms of Lycanthropy.
Dittany, Powered silver, Powdered Moonstone, Aconite…
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August 26th, 1976
“Do you want to —” “Work.”
“But you always have work… can’t you take some time off?”
“You know it’s important to me. Why do you keep trying to limit that?”
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August 29th, 1976
She was partially through her Potions and Charms textbook. It was all she could fixate on.
Deciding to take a break, Y/N went to stretch, getting up to talk to her mom who again, was getting ready to leave. She opened the honey-coloured wood draw close to the door. She pulled out a set of keys, fixing her appearance in a nearby mirror.
She had already opened the door.
“Hey mom, I was thinking of getting lunch… Will you be back soon?”
But, there was faint muffling outside the door.
“Ready for our date?”
Y/N, desperate, seized hold of her wrist, pleading. “Please, I leave in a day.”
“I'll make it up to you,” mom replied, “I promise.” And then, the door clicked shut.
Again.
She stared at the door, trying to regulate what she was thinking.
What made them worthy of her time when their’s were limited.
Robotically, Y/N turned to walk to her room, her hip bumped into the drawer which hadn’t been fully closed. Her eyes flew to it, about to push it in as she caught a flash of white.
Yanking it open, she swore her heart could’ve shattered. White envelopes filled the draw; her familiar handwriting scribbled on top of each letter. She picked one up, twisting it over to the flap.
It was unopened.
She picked up another. Unopened.
Then another. Unopened.
Unopened.
All of them were unopened, sealed. Hardly tampered with and there was hardly a wrinkle.
Was there something wrong with her? Something so disgraceful that made her so disgusting that people kept forgetting - pushing her away? Like an insidious disease.
Was she truly that unloveable? That much of a nuisance? What made someone else so much more important than her?
It was too much to process but if she had to describe the feeling, it was like drowning on dry land.
Whatever home was, it shouldn’t feel like this: cold, lonely, sad.
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【 Next Chapter 】
Slang dictionary (+ a bit of history bc i didn’t realize how many ppl didn’t actually understand what I was talking about in other chaps):
Coffee Crisp = a very popular chocolate bar sold in Canada. It was a variation of a treat made by a company from the UK. It was briefly introduced to the UK in the 60s but was pulled back because people thought it was too similar to Kit Kat. From what I know, Coffee Crisp is not commonly found in England (I've never seen it in stores) but it’s sold in Scotland.
Candy bar = US term for chocolate bar / chocolate
Grass = during the 60s - 70s, the term 'grass' was very popular slang for weed in New York bc it featured in vogue.
And yes, the British do drink that much tea.
© gotkindabored 2021. Do not repost or modify
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andilovetowrite · 4 years ago
Text
Party Favors P.P
Peter Parker x Reader
Summary: When trying to convince Peter to go to a party with you, a few secrets are revealed about a certain web-slinger’s crush, with your dad hanging onto every word. Total fluff here, guys!
Using the prompt: “come on, I can’t go to the party alone!”
Warnings: Nothing terrible, a swear word or two, I think. Just a lot of Flustered!Peter….. Oh, and Liz Allen being a prominent wing woman. Some suggestiveness as well. Sprinkles of angst but ends in fluff
Posted: April 30, 2021
Word Count: 3.2k
Here is my Masterlist in case you wanna read some more work of mine. Also, my requests are open :)
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“Pleaseee”, you pleaded, begging your best friend, “pretty please?” Peter Parker, the neighbour hood’s protector, Spiderman, an Avenger and your best friend stood in the middle of the room, arms crossed while he indignantly shook his head.
“Nope. Now way Y/N”
“C’mon, Pete. Just one time? Please, please, please?”
Peter sighed, raising his chocolate brown eyes to meet your Y/E/C eyes. “Is it necessary? Like life and death?”
“Yes! It is! Well, it saves lives and prevents death. And I need your help with this.”
Peter pursed his lips, looking a whole lot like a family member of yours you recently spoke to. “What’s in it for me?”
“Well, for starters, payback… Like the time I had to tell the press that ‘intern’ Peter Parker was doing a brilliant job working for my dad.”
“Yeah, I guess. But could you blame me? Y/N Stark saying to the world that I do a great job working as an intern was a sure way to make Flash shut up.”
“Ah, I get it. You’re just using me for my name!” you said, clasping a hand to your chest, faking hurt. Pretending to wipe off a tear, you whispered sorrowfully, “Another one bites the dust…”
“Uh-huh. And we are sure the amazing Y/N Stark didn’t have fun winding up Flash the next day at school when you strolled in and gave me an Intern Of The Month award in front of him?”
You laughed, remembering the moment fondly. “That was one of your better plans…”
Then you snapped out of your memories, smiling slightly. “Nuh-uh. You don’t get to make me reminisce about cute stories and get out of this deal. It’s happening.”, you said, gesturing to the two of you.
Peter groaned, falling back on your chair. “Dang it. I thought that would distract you for a while. But seriously? Do you want me to get killed?”
You rolled your eyes playfully, walking over to him. “Nobody is going to kill you! The party is at Liz’s house, and you’re Spiderman! Nobody can kill you.” For some reason, Peter face flushed pink when you mentioned Liz’s name.
But then he retorted. “Well, I’m not worried about our classmates. Or my enemies. I’m worried about… Mr Stark.” Peter said this almost worriedly, looking around, eyes locking onto his suit, which he grabbed, throwing it up into his attic.
Doubling over in laughter at his expression, you shakily walked over to your bed, jumping on it. “Why- why would you be afraid of my dad?!”
“Well, he specifically said you aren’t allowed to go to parties, but you want me to go with you to one of the biggest parties of the year.”
“Okay, well… that’s the reason you are coming with me. My dad said, and I quote. If one, just one, smart person attends that party, then you are allowed to go. And that’s where you come in. You are the ‘smart person!”
Peter chuckled, scratching the back of his neck, obviously relieved. “Uh, I don’t think that’s what he meant.”
“Oh, I know. But we are Starks. We never mean what we say.”, you say, backhandedly. “So, are you in?”
“Y/N, you know I love you, but…”
“Peter. I’m so sorry I have to do this, but… I’m going to have to use the best friend card.”
Peter gasped, looking at you in shock. “No, you didn’t.”
“Well, come on, I can’t go to the party alone!” you exclaim, jumping on the bed.
“Why can’t you go alone?”
“Why don’t you like parties?” you shoot back, turning to look at him, admiring the small clusters of freckles that adorn his face.
“I-I like parties. Just not Liz Allen’s parties.”
“Oh really?” you say, propping yourself up on your elbows, “that’s not what I heard when you and Ned went to her party in Freshmen year.”
“That… was different.”
Smiling victoriously, you let out a giggle. “Sure it wassss” He turned bright red again, turning away from you. You felt a pang in your heart, wondering why he was acting strange. “Wait, Peter, do you still like her?” You asked this, feeling your stomach sink down.
He flipped around so quickly; you. were sure he could’ve broken something. “No, NO, not at all.”
You squinted, trying to figure out what was wrong, but gave it up, vowing to figure it out later. “Alright, so will you come with me to the party?”
Peter looked at me, breaking into a grin. “Of course, I shall accompany you to the party, m’lady.”
“Well, thank you so much, my good man.”, you said in a horrible British accent. He smiled at me, his eyes crinkling as he glowed in the evening light. And as the two of you laughed, falling back into the bed, you wondered if you should tell Peter that you liked him.
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Soon, the day of the party arrived, and you honestly couldn’t wait for it. You bought a short dark blue dress, pairing it with some golden accessories and a pair of sneakers. Slipping them on, you headed into the driveway, making sure no one was around before activating your suit, flying off the ground and to Peter’s house. As you arrived, you knocked on the door, shifting from side to side, worried if you had worn too much for a casual party, but you were pleasantly surprised to see Peter dressed up nicely, dark blue jeans and a white shirt, a comfy sweater hanging off his shoulders.
“Woah,” Peter said, looking at you with adoration in his eyes, “you look amazing Y/N!”
You blushed, looking down. “Thanks, Pete, you look great as well.” Peter became red at your comment, not saying anything but holding his arm out to you instead. Looping your elbow through his, you went down to the car where May was going to take you to Liz’s house.
Arriving there, the music was blaring loud, the clinks of glass bottles in the air, while about 50 students and friends stood around the vast house, chatting and drinking.
“Hey guys!” Liz greeted, smiling warmly at us. “Come on in. We have drinks and snacks at the pool, DJ in the living room and a game of truth or dare upstairs.”
“Let’s do truth or dare”, you said, looking at Peter to see if it was alright. He nodded, letting Liz lead the way. Walking upstairs, we came into a guest bedroom, where about ten,eople were sitting in a circle, looking totally wasted.
“Is there alcohol?”, you asked, worried.
Liz laughed. “No no, they just all gotta act drunk. Gave them the dare.”
“Ah alright.” Peter said, glancing at me. Going over, you sat down, seated between Flash and Peter.
“Heyy Penis Parker. Hey there Stark.” He said, spitting out Peter’s fun nickname, but said yours flirtatiously. Almost glaring at him, you muttered back.
“Hello, Flash. What horrible thing are you doing on this evening?”
“Oh, nothing much. Just wondering why you walked in with Penis Parker here and not someone who can actually handle you. And your wealth and fame.”
Scoffing, you turn towards Peter, whose face is almost red with fury. You could see him clenching his fists, which he rarely does. You knew he was minutes away from punching Flash, but you didn’t want to make a whole scene, so you did something you never would have thought to do.
You grabbed Peter’s hand and kissed the back of it, leaning into him. You felt him tense behind you, breathing heavily. “Well Flash, who else would I come with if not the guy I have a crush on? Only seems fair rather than someone who makes a fool out of your best friend.”
Flash’s eyes went wide, looking between Peter and you, but then he cackled. Yeah, you said cackled. It’s what it sounds like. He doubled over, hitting his knee. “No way. I love this. Y/N Stark making Peter Parker, an intern of her multi-billion dollar father, and pretending to date him! There is no way in hell Penis Parker could get someone like you.” Flash said this maliciously, glaring at Peter.
You felt Peter lose his crip on you, taking in a sharp intake of air. “He’s right”, Peter whispered softly into your ear, his voice shaky and choked.
“Peter no!”, but it was too late. He stood up, walking out of the room at lightning speed. You glared at Flash but didn’t wait around, instead of running to find Peter. You ran to the stairs, where you saw him ask MJ where Liz was. Confused why he might want to talk to Liz, you walked down the stairs, staying out of his sights for the moment. You followed him as he walked into Liz’s room, leaving the door ajar. Tiptoeing to stand outside the room, you leaned against the wall, trying to make out what Peter was saying to Liz.
Peter’s POV
I ran down the stairs, quickly asking MJ where Liz was. I could hear someone’s heartbeat loud and clear, but I just assumed that it was my own. Ugh, I hate Flash. But it’s not like he was wrong. Y/N wouldn’t ever like me. She was just being a good friend by sticking up for me to a guy I should’ve beaten up long ago. I could feel my teeth grit together as I walked to Liz’s bedroom, knocking.
“Hey Peter, what’s wrong?”
I wiped my eyes on the back of my hand. Explaining to her what happened, she sat me down on the bed, rubbing my back. I could see the fury in her eyes when I told her about Flash.
“I have half a mind to go out and kick him out of my house.”
“It’s fine. But how do I tell her?”
Liz thought for a moment, and then lowered her voice down a bit, quickly glancing over to the door. Scruching my eyebrows, I wondered why she was now whispering but went along with it.
“Why don’t you pretend I’m Y/N. Tell her how you feel. Trust me, she will say yes.”
“Uh okay”, I said, not having too much of a problem, since I had this infront of the mirror dozens of times. “Hey-y. I just wanted to tell you something. I really really like you!”
“Louder”, Liz said, looking at me then at the door.
“Um, I really like you. Well, not just like. I literally love you. I love the way that you are sweet and charming, but also hard and firm. You look like a goddess, whether you are working out or going out in the city. Whenever you come over next to me, my senses go crazy because I am just so in love with you. I know you probably don’t think of me this way, but I had to get it off my chest.”
I finished rambling, when I saw Liz’s wide eyes. “Why? Was that too much?” I was worried, standing up quick.
Liz saw my expression, shaking her head hard. “No no, you’re good. But you gotta come with me right now. I-um know a way to get you and Y/N to like each other by the end of today”
Grabbing my hand, she pulled me up, pulling me quickly through the crowd, into a small closet at the end of the hall. “Okay, wait here”, she said, running off. I stood there, bouncing from side to side, wondering what Liz was doing. But I got my answer quite quickly when she ran back, basically pulling Y/N. “Come here!”, she said, pushing her to me.
“Okay, guys. I hope you two don’t hate me but this has to be done”, was all Liz said before she threw open the door behind us, pushing us both in with shocking strength and closing us in darkness. I reached to open the door but found it locked.
Y/N’s POV
Peter looked at the door, then glanced back at me. “It’s locked”, he said simply, scratching his neck, something he did when he was nervous.
“No shit sherlock. But did you forget, you are Spiderman? Just break it.”
He shook his head, mumbling something about not wanting to break Liz’s stuff. You rolled your eyes, sighing. You rummaged through your pocket, finding a small hairpin. Pushing him aside, you jammed it in, nudging it around until you heard a little click.
“There, it’s now open”, you said sarcastically, leaning back.
“Woah, I’ve never seen you do that!”
“Yeah, well, I don’t usually break open locks, do I?”
Peter picked up on your attitude, leaning back as well, sitting on the floor, making me look at him expectantly.
“Why don’t you just go back to your girlfriend?” you said bitterly, turning away from Peter. He scrunched his eyebrows, confused.
“What girlfriend?” he asked, trying to make space in the small closet.
“Liz. I heard you telling her how much you loved her earlier. An entire freaking speech if I remember correctly.”
He looked confused until his eyes lit up in recognition. “Wait-you thought, what- me and Liz, huh?”
“Yeah, aren’t you and Liz together? Or did she turn you down?”
Peter chuckled, eyes softening as he looked at me. “I don’t love Liz. I don’t even like her. What you heard earlier was Liz helping me out. Practising if you might.”
“Who was Liz pretending to be?”, you asked, disappointed.
“Well, she is smart, kind, badass and absolutely ethereal. She has such a strong spirit and is great at bringing people up. I have loved her for three years. Which, ironically, is how much time we have been best friends. By the way, her dad’s also Tony Stark”, Peter says this, coming closer to you, one hand coming up to hold your cheek gingerly. Searching in your eyes for confirmation, he leaned closer slowly, giving you enough time if you wanted to move away, but you didn’t, instead of moving up the last few inches and making your lips collide with his.
Time stopped as you pressed your lips together, hand finding its way to his curls, roughly holding on to them, while Peter held your waist, not wanting to let you go. You could’ve kissed Peter forever, but the need for oxygen became too much.
Pulling away from Peter, you rested your forehead on his, smiling contently. “I love you”, Peter whispered, cupping your face lightly, holding you at arm’s length.
Giving a small laugh at his nervousness, you kissed him softly, feeling him relax against you. “I love you too, Peter Parker.”
Peter grinned back at me with his signature smile, but the moment ended when we heard a loud bang from outside. “What the hell?” you exclaimed, running to the door; Peter following your footsteps. You could see Peter from the corner of your eye pull his shirt back slightly, revealing a pair of web-shooters he had underneath. Pushing a hand inside your pocket, you could feel the silver ring you carried with you. Slipping it on, you held your thumb over it, waiting for the moment to activate your suit. But when you and Peter burst outside, hands up to fight, you saw your dad, pacing the area, right now talking to a very scared looking Flash.
“Where is my daughter? You have one minute until I blast you off the face of this planet. And trust me when I say it, because bitch please, I’ve been to space.”
Covering your mouth with your hand to stifle your laughter, you walked closer, coming up behind your dad. “I think I might know where your daughter is”, you say in a solemn voice.
Tony whirled around quickly, looking you up and down. Pulling me into a hug for a second, he let go as soon as he did, holding you at arm’s length. “Why the heck are you at this party?!” he asked firmly.
“Well, dear father, you did say that at least one smart person had to be at this party, and that’s why,” you moved out of your dad’s grip, pushing Peter forward, “he is here.”
Peter came forward awkwardly, waving at Tony. “Hey, Mr Stark. How are you and Ms Potts?”
Tony nodded at Peter, clasping his hand on his shoulder. “We’re fine, Underoos. How are you and my daughter? You didn’t try anything with her, did you?”
Peter spluttered, mumbling at your dad. “N-n,o of course not Mr Stark. I-I respect and lo-love your daughter very much. We just kissed for a bit- and I mean, it felt terrific- wait, that’s not why I’m with her. I’m not wi-with her for her beauty. I mean-she i-is beautiful, but I don’t want that. Wait-uh-”
Giggling at what Peter was saying, you threaded your fingers through his own, squeezing them to give him some strength and to tell him to shut up before he said anything else. Tony sighed, giving an ‘I’m too old for this shit’ face.
“Okay, thank you for telling me about your love life, kiddo, but I’d rather not hear it. Both of you, meet me in the car. We can stay at the compound today, and I’ll tell Happy to text May.”
Tony turned around, walking to the car, while you and Peter stood there in shock. “Do you think he’ll let us sleep in the same room?” you asked Peter, nudging him playfully.
“NO”, your dad shouted from across the street, turning to look back at Peter, doing the ‘I’m watching you’ sign. Peter visibly gulped from beside you, making you chuckle.
“Hey! Peter, Y/N!” Liz called out, running from inside the house. “I saw your dad. Are you heading home?”
Nodding defeatedly, you confirmed it. She smiled lightly before telling us to wait here, running back in. In a minute, she ran back out, a small bag in each hand. “Here, a small return gift.”
“Aw, thanks, Liz!” Peter said, smiling at her.
She smirked. “You’ll like it even better when you find out what I put in yours, Peter. For a fact, both of you can use it.” She winked at us, making me worried.
“Wait, you what did you-”
“Face masks. Get your mind out of the gutter Y/N”, Liz said, laughing. Peter scoffed from beside me, laughing as well.
“Anyway, gotta go, Liz. See you at school.” Hugging the girl goodbye, you and Peter made your way to the car.
“That was nice of Liz”, Peter commented, looking up at the stars.
“Yeah, but I got my party favour”, you said simply, putting your hand in Peter’s, pulling him down to give him one sweet kiss under the night sky.
“HEY HEY HEY, NO KISSING INFRONT OF ME!” Tony yelled from the car.
“Wait, how did Mr Stark know we're together?”
“YOUR SUIT OBVIOUSLY!”, Tony yelled, getting the car upfront.
Peter groaned, banging his head against the window. “I knew it!”
------------------------------------------------------------------------------Thanks for reading this, guys! Hope you enjoyed this small fic. I loved writing it, plus it’s one of my longest ones, so expect more one-shots like this. See you till the next one!
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starlessea · 4 years ago
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Ultimate Guide to Writing Accents and Dialogue
I recently saw an amazing post on how to keep your characters ‘in character,’  and I wanted to make my own about writing accents, dialects, and overall just creating dialogue that suits the people you are trying to portray.
I’m a language/linguistic student, so here are a few tips I think you should consider!
1) Standard Pronunciation: 
First you need to think about where your story is set, and what is the standard dialect of the majority of your characters compared to your main character. What I mean by this is, if your story is set in the South, and all of your characters therefore have that Southern drawl, then it becomes the STANDARD, and has nothing to contrast it unless you introduce something.
If your main character (your POV) has a different accent, then make it NOTICABLY different from the standard of your story. It’s good to have accent variety, otherwise all of your characters start to sound the same.
2) Constructing your Vocabulary: 
Next, you’ll want to consider the vocabulary of your character. Ask yourself questions about them: are they educated, what was their upbringing like, do they work in a field with specific vocabulary? You can strip it back even further than that - when you think of your character how would you describe them? Could you see a badass biker using long, sophisticated diction on a regular basis? Or an old woman swearing like a sailor?
Don’t get me wrong, these are very much stereotypes, and often the most interesting characters are created by subverting your expectations. But use these questions as a springboard for your characters. If you’re writing fanfiction, and know the characters well already from a movie / tv-show, then try to IMAGINE them saying your lines to see if they are something they would actually say. 
However, also note that the register of your characters is bound to change given the situation. Obviously, someone is more likely to use heightened vocabulary in a certain setting - e.g. within a classroom - and more casual language elsewhere - e.g. in a bar. See below for such a distinction:
Formal: Yes/No
Informal: Yeah/Nah
3) Orthography, Syntax and Morphology: 
Okay, so those words might look a little scary, but don’t worry. Orthography is just a fancy way of saying spelling (specifically, the standard spelling system of a time/place and how we might see a character deviate from it), syntax is word order, and morphology is how words are formed (such as grammar, inflections etc.). I’ll give some examples of what I mean.
Orthography: I’m going to use Daryl Dixon from TWD for reference (keywords: Southern drawl, redneck, country). For Daryl, some words he says I write phonetically (according to how he says them), so that the spelling matches the phonology. E.g.:
Standard: “Take care of yourself.”
Daryl: “Take care of yerself.” 
I tend to do this alot with pronouns, such as ‘you/ya,’ ‘your/yer.’ But I also use the long, standard forms for variety and emphasis - e.g. ‘you’re right.’
Syntax and Morphology:
Often, a character will use different syntax or morphological patterns that we aren’t used to. Often, non-native speakers are portrayed using types of English we often categorise as ‘incorrect’ - but are just non-standard. You can find good examples of this within Creole literature.
For example, past-tense verbs are usually conjugated in the present-tense form:
‘we was / if I was you’ instead of ‘we were / if I were you’ 
“I go now.” 
“She gives it to me yesterday.” 
Unfortunately, a lot of these conventions are also stereotypically used to portray characters who are uneducated - think of Joe or young Pip from Charles Dickens’ Great Expectations, for example.
But, you also want to avoid STEREOTYPING your character too much, as that can come across as amateur or cliche. What I mean by this is don’t over-rely on certain patterns - don’t overuse them. It’s okay to have variety, even if its with the SAME character. Just do it in a way that fits your overall construction. You can even change these speech patterns DURING your story to represent the development of your character, or them picking up an accent, or being around different people.
4) Apostrophe and Negatives:
Apostrophe: These can be used to mark a number of things - such as abbreviations, contractions, possession etc. If your character has a certain accent, they might roll certain words into one another - not stressing specific consonants, for example. We can see this in ‘C’mon.’
Alot of abbreviations are now recognised slang words, too. For instance:
C’mon = Come on 
‘Cos = Because
Lil’ = Little
‘Ma = Mama / mother
Ol’ = Old
Think about whether certain abbreviations and slang matches the register of your character, as well as their location. For example, slang words like ‘cuppa’ (cup of tea) are usually expected in a British setting.
Also, remember that the apostrophe goes in the position of the letter/letters you are getting RID OF, which is not always necessarily in the place of the contraction. E.g:
‘Do not’ contracts to ‘donot’ which abbreviates to the standard ‘don’t.’
Going back to my Daryl Dixon example, other common abbreviations I use for him include the following:
‘Ing’ contraction - walking becomes walkin’.
 Anyone, anything - becomes ‘nyone, ‘nything
Pronoun contractions - her becomes ‘er.
Connective contractions - and becomes an’ or n’.
Other contractions don’t even need apostrophes - such as ‘gonna,’ ‘gotta,’ ‘sorta,’ ‘wanna.’
Negatives: 
Even though Standard English doesn’t use double negatives anymore, we can use them in our writing of characters as an indicator of their background or dialect. They can also be used for emphasis.
Coming back to Daryl, he tends to use a lot of double negative constructions:
“I ain’t nobody’s bitch.”
“Don’t want nothin’.”
“Ain’t go no reason to.”
If you want to get even more complex, you can have a proclitic negative (where the negative attaches itself to the verb - e.g. don’t), and contract it further so you get a multiple contraction. For example:
You (pronoun), Are (verb, form of ‘be’), Not (negative) = you ain’t = y’aint.
“Y’aint never done shit for me!”
Because this is a three way contraction, it becomes a bit confusing where to put the apostrophe - is it y’aint or y’ain’t? To be honest, it becomes mostly your choice after that (stylistic). 
5) Loanwords and Imposition:
Loanword: This is a word borrowed INTO the native language FROM another one. For example, think of an American speaker using a French word or phrase in a sentence.
“Thought we were all takin’ a laissez faire approach now?”
Think of how this changes the sentence, and the impact it is going for. French is still seen as a prestigious language, so it can be used to heighten register, or can be used to mock/patronise/be sarcastic in a certain context (as in this example).
Imposition: This is when a speaker uses a word FROM their native language in the context of a non-native language they are speaking. It has connotations of power and agency. 
For example, a French speaker might use a French term in a conversation, despite it having a perfectly good English counterpart. This might be in order to demonstrate that a character is trying to show off, or is reminding their peers of their background or status.
6) Non-verbal Indicators:
This is more on the border of style, but I thought it was worth mentioning. Sometimes, the descriptive words you use can reflect a character's dialect. An obvious example can be how ‘drawled’ is associated with a Southern accent.
Although it might sound cliche, you should think about the vocabulary you want to use in order to describe a certain accent. If we were to compare perhaps Scottish or Welsh with French, for instance, you would be able to hear the distinct sound differences. The former are more harsh, guttural, have a lot of sounds that come from the back of the throat, whilst the latter is nasal and flows more.
Use your descriptions to emphasise this. Look up synonyms that describe the WAY in which your characters are pronouncing the words. Are they guttural, harsh, gravelly, thick? Or are they soft, fluid, smooth?
Anyway, I’ve rambled enough. Good luck writing, everyone!
Disclaimer: Even though this post is long, it’s actually really basic on a linguistic level - so I hope no true linguists read this haha. These are just some personal observations, but I hope they help!
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deja-you · 4 years ago
Text
Starlight
m. de lafayette x reader
chapter three | romeo and alpha
summary: it was never your intent to be anything more than a common thief, but fate -- and a rather attractive general -- have other plans for you.
word count: 1.8k
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In the months following your mission on Hesse, you only got better and better at your job. You learned the ins and outs of Philian nightlife, and you were proud to say you were getting more used to jobs on foreign planets. Mostly, you were getting more used to Lafayette and his division of soldiers. In between missions, you had time to lay low at headquarters, and the soldiers quickly became brothers to you.
As all siblings like to do, the soldiers would do their best to pull pranks and tease you when the occasion occurred. The growing relationship–you might even call it friendship–with the man who you had stolen from just a few months ago didn’t go unseen by the men in Lafayette’s division.
“We’ve compiled the information needed for your mission with Alpha,” Hamilton says, sliding a tablet across Lafayette’s desk for him to read.
Alpha–the squadron had affectionately given you the codename; named for the capital, Alpha Cersei, of the tiny planet you had grown up on. You wore the name with pride.
“Anything important I should know?” Lafayette asks as he begins scrolling through the information.
Hamilton coughs softy and nudges Laurens, who in turn nudges Mulligan. Mulligan shoots the other two men a dirty look, but nonetheless steps forward: “Well, the thing is… We thought it would be best, well… well why don’t you tell him, Hamilton?”
“Me? I put this together!”
“That’s why you should be the one to tell him!”
Lafayette sets the tablet down rather unceremoniously. “Would one of you just spit it out?”
A beat of silence.
“We… well, Hamilton decided that a couple of newlyweds would be a rather convincing cover for this particular mission,” Laurens finally says.
“Oh so now it was my idea, huh?” Hamilton says with irritation. “It was our idea when you thought it was funny.”
Lafayette looks between the three men incredulously before looking back down at the tablet to read further into the details. “You didn’t seriously…”
“If it makes you feel any better,” Hercules says (and he says it in a way that makes Lafayette think that the next thing he’s about to say won’t make him feel better at all), “we made sure to book you and Alpha the honeymoon suite. The reviews are great. Supposed to be very ro-man-tic.”
Hamilton and Laurens fail to hide their snickering, but Lafayette silences the two of them with a sharp look. He rests his forehead in his hand when the information he’s reading on the tablet confirms everything his soldiers told him.
“This is the last time I put any of you in charge of mission details,” Lafayette mutters.
“That’s not fair, we gave you a cool codename,” Laurens points out.
Hamilton’s eyes light up and he nods in agreement. “We did! Do you want to hear it?”
“Do I?”
“You’re Romeo,” Hercules says, and the three of them grin widely like it’s the cleverest thing they’ve ever come up with.
“Romeo?” You push open the door and take a seat in one of the chairs in front of Lafayette’s desk that you’ve grown accustomed to. You size Lafayette up with a look, noting how flustered he seems. “Are you a fan of Shakespeare, or somethin’?”
“Actu—” Laurens starts, but Lafayette silences him with a glare.
“Yes. Love Shakespeare. Laurens, Mulligan, and Hamilton were just about to leave.” His words are clipped and the three soldiers seem to understand him, quickly filing out the door in a fit of laughter, but not before muttering something about leaving the two of you alone together.
You raise an eyebrow at their strange behavior but shrug it off. You turn to face Lafayette and give him a mock salute. “Alright, general. Brief me on my mission.”
“Our mission, actually,” he corrects.
This surprises you. “You’re coming with? Ah, I suppose that makes sense. Hence the codename. Alright, Romeo, brief me on our mission.”
The codename catches him off-guard, but he doesn’t let it show. “There’s a British officer who has happened to obtain some… important information concerning future battle plans. We’ve been told he’s staying at a resort on Ambros while his ship is being repaired.”
“So we’re going to steal the information back before he can get it to New Britannia?”
“Exactly.”
“What’s our cover?”
“There’s more information on here,” Lafayette says, handing you the tablet, “but basically… we’re honeymooners.”
You pause, look up at him with wide eyes, then snort loudly. “You’re going to be my husband?”
He frowns at you. “Is there something funny about that?”
“No, of course not.” Your laughter contradicts your words. “It’s just that… you and I, well… we’d make an interesting pair?”
“Don’t worry, starlight, you’ll only have to put up with me for the length of the mission.”
“Oh, c’mon, don’t you think the situation is a little bit humorous?” You flash him a grin and his expression softens a little. “So should I meet you at the loading dock tomorrow morning, then?”
“Yes,” he nodded. Then, remembering something, Lafayette reached down and opened up a drawer, pulling out a little box. He set it on the desk in front of you.
“What’s this?”
“We’re married. You should have a ring.” He shrugs like it was obvious.
Gingerly, you open the box and your mouth falls open when you see the large diamond in front of you. The ring probably costs more than anything you’ve ever owned, and Lafayette is just giving it to you. You look from the ring to him in shock, and he gives you a small nod, encouraging you to try it on. You slide it onto your finger, and it just happens to fit perfectly.
“Wow” is all you manage to say as you admire the way it sparkles on your hand. You grin and your eyes meet Lafayette’s with a mischievous grin. “I’ve been waiting for this my whole life. Yes, yes, a thousand times, yes!”
Lafayette rolls his eyes at your antics, but he can’t help but smile. “Is it too early to file for divorce?”
You wave him off as a thought suddenly occurs to you. “I’ve got to go show the boys my engagement ring! I’ll see you tomorrow morning, bright and early, sweetheart.”
With that, you sweep out of the room and moments later, Lafayette can hear Hamilton, Laurens, and Mulligan all laughing and congratulating you on the fake engagement. Lafayette shakes his head, but he is incapable of wiping the smile off his face.
The flight to Ambros is short, and you and Lafayette spend most of the trip going over your cover in more detail. Lafayette is more focused on the important details: the name and appearance of your target, strategies, etc. You, on the other hand, argue that it’s just as important to come up with a believable background: how long the two of you have been together, where you got married, who your maid of honor was. You’re mostly teasing, but it would be beneficial to the both of you if your stories lined up.
“How did you propose? I think you took me back to the place we first met,” you muse.
“No, no. Not the place we first met. The place I first realized I loved you,” he suggests.
You look up at him, amusement playing on your features. “Oh, that’s much better.”
“Yes, and you had no idea. And I told you that ‘this is where I fell in love with you’ and suddenly I was down on one knee.”
“Our love story really is the sweetest, isn’t it?”
He nods. “The very best.”
You admire the ring on your hand and a thought occurs to you. “Do you just happen to keep wedding rings in your desk for impromptu proposals? Or… is there someone you were going to propose to?”
Lafayette shakes his head. “That was my mother’s ring.”
Your jaw drops when he says this. You’ve heard the stories about Lafayette’s past. Both of his parents died when he was young, leaving him one of the wealthiest Francos on the planet. Maybe he left Francosia because he had no family left there. Maybe it was something else. You don’t ask.
“This is your mother’s ring? I can’t wear this! Why didn’t you tell me?” You ask.
“We’re supposed to be married, starlight. Unless you’ve got a different ring in your pocket you’d prefer, I think our options are rather limited,” he says plainly.
You see the logic in his statement, but you’re still shocked he would trust you with his mother’s ring. “Yes, I understand, it’s just… this is something important to you. You just gave it to me.”
“Should I be worried about giving it to you?” He teases. “Were you planning on stealing it?”
“Well, now I’m not going to,” you say under your breath.
This elicits a chuckle from Lafayette. “My mother would’ve liked you. If anyone was going to wear her ring, I think she would’ve been glad it was you.”
Lafayette stands when the orange Ambrosian sea begins to cast hued light through the window, but his comment isn’t lost on you. For some reason, your chest grows all warm at the thought that his mother would’ve liked you.
“We’re going to be landing soon, we should both get changed,” Lafayette says.
He’s right. You’re wearing plain tan clothes, hardly suitable for the wife of a wealthy businessman. Lafayette is still wearing his white Amerigo Army uniform; he’ll have to change for obvious reasons. You give him a nod, getting up to your personal quarters to get changed.
For this mission, you’ve packed a closet of outfits that you would never have worn back home on Philia. Evening gowns, dresses that are equal parts too short and too sparkly, gold and silver necklaces, shoes you don’t understand how to put on, much less walk in. You decide you’ll wear one of your simpler options: a black gown that hugs your torso before cascading to the ground in waves, a slit exposes your left leg up to your mid-thigh. When you’re finished getting ready, you catch sight of your reflection in your mirror, and a surge of confidence flows through you. You look beautiful.
When you step back onto the bridge, the look on Lafayette’s face reaffirms your thoughts. His lips part as he takes in your appearance, eyes widening slightly before he remembers that it’s not polite to stare. He clears his throat.
“You look… nice,” he says.
“You don’t look so bad yourself,” you reply. You mean it. Lafayette has changed out of his usual uniform into a fitted suit of all black. A flash of deep red catches your eye when he adjusts his pocket square. He’s wearing the colors of the New Britannia flag; it’s all in the subtle details. You realize that this is the first time you’ve seen him in civilian clothes. You decide you like it.
“Shall we?” Lafayette offers you an arm.
You smile and take it, pulling yourself to his side. “Of course, darling.”
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