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#does this mean mary can come back?
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Was l supposed to be shipping Dr. Jillian Salvius and Sister Lilith?
Because that also happened.
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loserboyfriendrjl · 2 years
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when i die, don't look for me in the sunsets...
sirius — look for me in the sky. i know it's a cliché, but there is where you will see me. am i scared of death? no, of course not. i am endless, i am invincible, i am bright; i am the brightest star, actually. i will reach out for you, and i will light up your way. you will find me.
james — look for me in the sky. you will see the sun, bright and scorching. i will warm you up when you will grieve for me, and i will bring closure to you. i might be gone, but i haven't left you alone. i am here, still. and i always will be.
remus — look for me in the river. see the stones, smooth and cold. look at the water, running. its way is freedom, isn't it? it's all ended; it's over. however, that does not mean you can't go on. fall in love. live. without me. we'll meet again soon.
peter — look for me somewhere quiet. there is beauty in quiet, although some people can't see it. it's peaceful. come sit with me, won't you? death is imminent, of course; however, why won't we make the most of life?
dorcas — look for me in my lover's arms. i have been deceived so many times, death does not scare me anymore; it's the last bit of closure i have. look for me in the little things, where i hide. many do not see me, yet i am here. you just have to look for me.
lily — look for me at home. everything has a start and an ending, and i am always coming back. look for me where i can be myself, where everything is warm. look for me at home. maybe, one day, it will be ours to share.
mary — look for me somewhere bright. the sky, maybe. or somewhere colourful. it helps me forget how alone i am, really. i forget about the loneliness that aches in me. someday, i wish you'd search for me. for now, grieve.
marlene — look for me somewhere loud. it helps me forget. scared of death? of course, so i don't think of it. i let myself be washed away with adrenaline, pumped through my brain, and with a moment of pleasure. life is short, after all.
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cestacruz · 6 months
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Mmm Jeanne
#servants cant learn new stuff (i'll talk about jalter in a second) therefore#jeanne shouldnt know how to read or write#we actually Dont get a confirmation that she can do those things in summer 3. because the book that jalter thought jeanne wrote#was actually Her own book#jeanne works with marie. maybe she comes up with the ideas and does rough drawings that marie would be Delighted to bring to life#marie reads to jeanne is my image#jalter taught herself how to read and write and i think that was possible because of the unstability of her existence#if you try to teach jeanne how to read and write it will stick for a second but if like idk 15-20 min pass she would likely find herself#unable to read again and her writting to be suboptimal#she can sign her own name ofc thats historical#she can recite the bible from memory iirc#i love jalter's ability to be her own person even if it comes with the fact that she is very much. an ephemeral dream#like her FCKING SKILL IS CALLED.#WHY MUST YOU HURT ME LIKE THIS FGO#anyway. now jeanne again but physical#oughhh thank u for the support in the tags when i said jeanne should have self image issues because she looked different in life#i hadnt fully talked bout it i just went with hair but yeah. i need to check again because im pretty sure her body wasnt Suuuper different#but i just gotta confirm#but im just so i love the idea of her just not liking the way she manifested abd not knowing Why she manifested like that#when there are Countless depictions of her with her short brown hair#sieg looks to the side whistling (its not his fault but he knows the pseudo servant part#and its probably a mix of . fate apocrypha's manifestation and of how some people imagined jeanne looked like#but it still upsets her#not that she'd ever complain to people#you can probably get it out of her tho#unrelated and only to those who reached this far: im thinking of a singularity set in 15th century orleans in the Middle of the hundred year#war. but the difference aint “oh jeanne d'arc came back to life evil” rather than “there seems to be a battle here where it shouldnt and oh#my god is that jeanne- oh god jeanne d'arc fucking died--#and chaldeas has to try and fix the war without living breathing jeanne d'arc#actually thats not the middle of the 100yearwar but yknow what i mean. also haha jk unless...
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wilwheaton · 5 months
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In a new interview with the New Yorker ahead of his 70th birthday on Monday, the comedian explained his theory about why there’s no “funny stuff” to watch on TV anymore. “Nothing really affects comedy,” he said, “People always need it. They need it so badly and they don’t get it.” Instead of getting sitcoms like M*A*S*H, The Mary Tyler Moore Show, and All in the Family, audiences miss out, he said, as a “result of the extreme left and P.C. crap, and people worrying so much about offending other people.” [...] A look back at some of his earlier comments on a similar subject adds some context, if not clarity. In 2015, Seinfeld sat down for an episode of The Herd with Colin Cowherd podcast, where he explained his aversion to performing stand-up on college campuses. “I don’t play colleges, but I hear a lot of people tell me, ‘Don't go near colleges. They’re so PC,’” he said on the show. After giving an example of his teenage daughter using the word “sexist,” he concluded that young people “just want to use these words: ‘That’s racist’; 'That’s sexist’; ‘That’s prejudice.’ They don’t know what they’re talking about.”
Jerry Seinfeld Draws Right-Wing Praise for Comments on ‘Extreme Left’
This is such a bummer. Tell me you’re a privileged, entitled, myopic Boomer without telling me you’re a privileged, entitled, myopic Boomer.
It’s interesting to me that he says these legendary sit-coms, none of which were cruel, punching down, or hurtful, but were actually satirizing power, celebrating women, changing societal norms through representation, and using comedy to do it all, wouldn’t exist if “the extreme left” had anything to do with it.
Umm. Who does he think created these shows? And is he really that ignorant? Has this guy never read a single interview with Norman Lear? Or literally anyone in the cast of Mary Tyler Moore? I mean. Come on, man!
Teenagers and college students don’t know what they’re talking about when they tell a privileged, entitled, multimillionaire Boomer that his “jokes” can be hurtful, and maybe he could use his tremendous talent to do comedy that is just as funny without being hurtful. Okay. Got it. Keep saying that, and see how far it gets you, buddy.
Hey, Jerry Seinfeld: when blue checks on Twitter are celebrating you being a dick, it’s not because you’re so funny and such a brilliant comic; it’s because they love how you’re validating what garbage they are. You can’t see that, or don’t care, and that’s such a huge bummer.
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racew1nn3rs · 4 months
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─ 𝘚𝘌𝘊𝘙𝘌𝘛𝘚, 𝘚𝘌𝘊𝘙𝘌𝘛𝘚 🫀
max verstappen x singer!fem reader // smau
⤷ summary: when max verstappen starts commenting on the posts of the beloved singer y/n l/n, fans are confused and less than enthusiastic at the new friendship. what they could never expect is just how long they've been 'friends'...
based on this request <3
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liked by sabrinacarpenter, maxverstappen1, and 46,908 others
tagged sabrinacarpenter
ynusername my new album is now officially out on all platforms! thank you so so much for all of the love and support, and special thanks to sab for her feature on the song <33 love u bb girl 🫦🫦 now that the album's out, tour next!!! see you all soon!
23,560 comments
user1 THE ALBUM OUT. THIS IS NOT A DRILL PEOPLE THIS IS NOT A DRILL.
user2 i cannot be normal about this i fear
user3 ik her back hurts from CARRYING the music industry on her back 😩
user4 hey so WHO TF IS SO AMERICAN ABOUT?? A LOVE SONG
user5 y/n writing a love song in god's year of 2024... wow
user6 y/n in the top 10 charts, fork found in kitchen
user7 sabrina and y/n are never beating the gf allegations
ynusername damn right we're not 😏
user7 HOLY SHIR HOKY SHIT HOKST SHUT
user8 y/n's in love and it's not with me, hanging myself as we speak
user9 the comment is gonna get reported but so real op
user8 can't a woman hang herself in peace 😣
user10 album's such a banger i had this shit bumpin at my grandmas funeral 🙏🏼 rest in piece nancy 🕊️💪🏻
user11 OH MY GOD???
user12 rest in piece nancy you would've loved make you mine 😔
ynusername oh my god please tell me your joking
user10 sorry queen the grind never stops
ynusername NO SHOT
maxverstappen1 great album! 👍🏼
user13 why does he text like my father 🧍🏻‍♀️
user14 brother eughh
user15 what da hell is a polar bear doin in arlington texas
ynusername thank you max!!!
user16 y/n l/n to redbull in 2025
user17 hellurrrrr who is this man in ur likes y/n
user18 f1 driver!!
user17 Y/N NO ATHELETES PLEAEJEWK 🫵
user18 tour content soon??? i'm sat
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user19 bro looks like he snuck onto earth, get his ass outta here
user20 grammy-award winner, vogue cover model, new york university graduate and Some Fucking Guy
user21 not y'all coming to her defense like the mighty morphin power rangers 💀💀 he's literally a world class athete and she writes pop music
user20 17.172.224.47
user21 IS THAT MY IP ADDRESS??
user20 melinda charleton
user22 IS THAT HIS MOTHER'S NAME!!?1?1!
user20 you want me to do you too???
user22 no we good 😃
user23 ruth bader ginsberg did not die for this
user24 now wtf does this have to do with babe ruth 🤨
user25 WHOOOOO 😧
user24 ... that wasn't right was it
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user26 now let's be fr he does NAWT have a chance
user27 have u seen the marble-carved  goddesses these men pull, i fear he does 😔
user28 please no i feel ill
user29 TWO???? OH HELL NAW
user30 two might be pushing it, only one was confirmed
user31 jesus christ
user32 first taylor, now this
user33 yall, all he commented was great album 💀💀 yall are LEAPING to conclusions
user34 what can i say it's an art
user35 i do not see 👁️👄👁️
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user36 no like 💀💀 im in your walls
user37 haha max verstappen!! right!!! (theres a sniper at ur location)
user38 omg ur so right 🤩 it is about him (i have a bomb strapped to my chest)
user39 i dont mean to sound stupid, idk who that man is, if i saw him on the streets i wouldnt know a thing 🥱
user40 this is so random too like what 😭
user41 the power of kindness won't work here, i have to throw him off a building
user42 i used to be a max verslsjjwwo lover 🤩 now im just a max verslsjjwwo hater 😔
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user43 NURSE 🫵 SHE'S OUT AGAIN
user44 why would u put that into the universe 😧
user45 alright, lets get you to bed grandma
user46 mari stop being delusion and go touch grass 🧍🏻‍♀️
user47 ENOUGHHHH
user48 ain't no way in hell 😭
user49 ik ur feet hurt from all this jumping to conclusions babe
user50 lets leave the parkour to the athletes 😃
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liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris, and 54,789 others
ynusername italy thanks for letting me be inside you (; it was such a lovely show, expect me back asap!!!!
15,267 comments
user51 IT WAS SO GOOD I THNK I BLACKED OUT THE WHOLE TIME THO
user52 oh!
user51 oh so now this isn't a safe space
user53 LANDO AND MAX IN TGE LIKES??? NO NO NO NO
user54 ABORT ABORT ABORT
user55 y'all are doing too much 🙄 she's one of the top artists in the world, i think it's safe to say they might like her music
user56 the second picture 🧎🏻‍♀️do you need a stool cause i can kneel and be really quiet
user57 y/n fans be normal challenge (impossible!!!) (never done before)
user56 WOMP WOMP
maxverstappen1 wonderful show! 🙏🏼 you are so talented
ynusername ty max (: im glad you could come see me
user57 ain't NO WAYYYYYY
user59 THIS IS SIXKENJNG IM GONNA PUKE
sabrinacarpenter my gf looking sexy 🫦🫦🫦
ynusername only for u bbg 🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️
user60 BOOOO 🗣️ GET A ROOM
user61 do y'all need a third!!!!
user62 mamma mia pizza pasta mozzerella moment
user63 i just put u on a watchlist
user62 🧍🏻‍♀️
landonorris RAHHHHHH 🦅🫵🗣️‼️
ynusername RAHHH RAHHH RAHHH RISE POWER POWER 💪🏻‼️
user63 what the fuck
user64 OH GOD WHAT IF SHES DATING HIM????
ynusername brother eughhhh
landonorris WHAT THE FUCK????
user65 SINCE WHEN IS SHE FRIENDS WITH F1 DRIVERS HOW MANY CHAPTWRS DID I MISS
user66 apparently we all went into a universal coma while she was out galavanting cause idk how else this could've happened
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maxverstappen1 posted to his story!
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(caption: beautiful show)
22,456 replies
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user67 someone save my girl bro, she don't know any better 😭
user68 it's like a little kid trying to touch the hot stove, LIKE STOP THAT!! DON'T DO THAT
user69 am i the only one who thinks they'd be cute together....
user70 YES!?!?
user71 there is literally no fucking way he bagged her
user72 losing y/n to european f1 driver would be the biggest american tragedy since 2001
user73 i had to read this shit twice, op what r u waffling abt 🫵😧
user74 can't even be nonchalant about this one bro, i'm chalanting hard asf
user75 we do not care
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liked by redbullracing, f1, and 78,567 others
tagged maxverstappen1
ynusername first time in monaco, safe to say i enjoyed myself! so happy to see you shine this time my love<3
25,788 comments
user76 oh. my. fucking. god
user77 THEYRE FUCKING DATING OH MYFODNSJ
user78 THAT SHOULD BE MEEEE HOLDING YOUR HAND THAT SHOULD BE MEEE MAKING YOU LAUGHHH 🎤
user79 i'm in mourning
sabrinacarpenter CHEATER 🫵
ynusername BABY IT'S NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE, IT WAS JUST ONE TIME 😣😣😣 IT WAS A MISTAKE
maxverstappen1 we've been dating for 2 years??
sabrinacarpenter SHUT UP FAST & FURIOUS NO ONE ASKED YOU
user80 i'm sorry 😃 two Y EARS
user81 i feel like i just got dumped. y/n don't do this, the kids need you 😔
maxverstappen1 i got p1 for you, i love you 🫶🏼
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hope you all enjoyed! please let me know your thoughts and feel free to leave a request for me to write something for your fav <3
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Diet Pepsi (18+)
A modern Aemond Targaryen x girlfriend reader smutshot
When we drive in your car, I'm your baby So sweet Losing all my innocence in the backseat
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a/n : how do I explain this? I suppose the song Diet Pepsi got stuck in my head, and when I watched the music video, the only male lead I could envision in that sorta situation is our Aemond/Ewan. So here ya go! Reading time... depends on what you get into 😉💋
masterlist
themes/warnings : pure smut, filthy actions and filthy language, complete disregard for sports car interiors, old money boyfriend Aemond x bratty internet starlet girlfriend reader, sticky surfaces, foggy windows, wayward fingers, sliding tongues, and YES YES YES
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"What's goin' on in that pretty head of yours?"
Your boyfriend glances at you from the corner of his eye, barely, his attention remaining on the road. But his veiny hand reaches over to squeeze your thigh, fully exposed beneath the scrap of pale pink fabric that you try to pass off as a miniskirt.
Mission accomplished. After only a few minutes of pretending to stew while looking out the window, he is quick to sense that something is amiss with his kitten.
"Nothing," you respond in the best downcast tone you can manage, fighting the urge to clench your thighs to trap his thick fingers in the warmth between.
"Come on now," he clicks his tongue, "don't play around."
"I don't know what you mean."
"You've barely looked at me since you got in the fucking car." Poor baby. You're getting to him, as planned.
Time to rile him up in a way that only you can. "Do you think Maris is pretty?"
He scoffs, "Don't start, kitten."
"So you do," you egg him on. "I knew it. You were looking at her tits earlier. I bet you loved it when that skank bent over in front of you. Gave you a good view."
"Kitten, please," his grip on your flesh tightens, trying to get you stop. "You're being ridiculous."
"And you didn't answer my question, Aemond," you snap back, grabbing his hand and prying it from your leg.
"Fuck's sake," he groans. He then rests both his hands on the steering wheel, at the standard 10 and 2, grasping onto it so roughly that the leather squeaks.
You called him Aemond. Not babe. Not handsome. You must be pissed, for some imagined reason, and he simply does not have the time.
Impatient, he goes off on a tirade, "You've asked me this shit before, babe, and my answer remains the same. I don't care about any other girl. You're the only one that I want, that I will ever want."
Licking your lips, and looking slyly at him behind your done-up eyelashes, you say, "You could've fooled me." He raises his brow at your childishness, muscles flexing under his tight white shirt as he makes a sharp turn. You continue, "I know what I saw. You want her, is that it? Is it because she's got status like you?"
"You have status," he corrects you, "The whole damn country practically knows your name."
"But it's not the same," you moan. "I didn't come from money. My blood isn't blue."
He sighs audibly, "We talked about this. None of that fucking matters, kitten. Especially not to me."
You cross your legs, leaning against the car door as if to inch away from him, your devilishly handsome silver-haired aristocratic boyfriend. The very one you're so keen on tormenting now. "You don't know how I feel."
But he does. You've long since lost track of the countless times you've been blindsided by an uncharacteristic wave of self-doubt. You, infamous for being one of the bubbliest and most outgoing personalities on the internet, your lifestyle guides and fashion spreads a mainstay on every social media platform.
But ever since you started dating Aemond, you can't help but feel unworthy sometimes. He is Aemond Targaryen after all, a glowing young heir to one of the most powerful families in the country, his lineage extending back to the great Valyrian empire.
Old money, as they say. That was his life, but before him, you thought old money was just some fashion trend that dominated your Pinterest boards.
You met at a charity gala for the Hightower Foundation. Unaware of who he was, he was simply a hot guy you set your sights on, and you managed to get his attention by accidentally spilling your espresso martini down his crisp tailored shirt.
Women were not usually that forward when approaching him, especially not those who ran in the same circles as him, like the Baratheon sisters or the Tyrell heiress. But you were different. You were simply, unabashedly yourself. Your biggest asset was you - your personality, your style, your genuine warmth that allows you to build connections with anyone in the industry - you didn't walk into a room with the snootiness and entitlement of a girl born with a silver spoon in her mouth.
The chemistry was instant, overriding any superficial issues that may arise from someone like him getting with someone like you. Which is why you snuck out of the gala together, and fucked each other senseless in the backseat of his car, sweaty and giggling and whispering sweet nothings like you were already long-time lovers back then.
As you are now, nearly two years later. Aemond's love for you has only grown a thousand fold, and he shows this every day.
The car idles at a stop sign. He reaches for your face and implores, "Kitten, look at me, please."
"No," you impetuously say, making him drop his hand.
"Baby, come on."
"Don't feel like it, Aemond."
The light turns green. The car zooms past houses and open fields. Shops and smaller, unknown places of business. They all come together in a blur. The tension is at an all-time high in the car, just as you intended.
He makes several maneuvers, and the scenery outside begins to look unfamiliar to you. The street you enter next is particularly quiet, almost empty, all the shops closed for the day or boarded up. It's likely on the outskirts of King's Landing, far from the Targaryen estate in its central area of Red Keep.
"You still gonna be a brat?" he asks lowly.
You smirk, "Don't call me a fucking brat."
"Have it your way, kitten," he says, and it sounds like a promise. The car pulls up to a vacant parking lot behind an old restaurant, the surrounding area covered by a thin tree line. There is no one, and nothing in sight.
He leans back, and takes a few deep breaths.
"You've been a bad girl, my kitten."
"Have I?" you bite your lip, no longer fighting the urge to clench your thighs. The miniskirt rides up higher, and his eyes become drawn to the sight, his cock hardening underneath his blue jeans.
He hums, leaning over and grabbing your jaw towards him with one hand, "Yeah, bringing shit up like that. Like I would ever look at anyone besides you."
"Wouldn't you?"
"Want me to fucking mention the time you actually flirted with the Stark boy in front of me?"
"I wasn't - "
"Shut up, kitten," he spits. "I'm not dumb."
His voice dips low, and you feel your cunny growing wet and slick. Gods, he is so hot like this. Assertive yet downright sensual. He only wants one thing, and you will surrender it to him in a heartbeat.
"What you gonna do 'bout it, handsome?" You lick your gloss-covered lips and you are caught off guard when he pushes his thumb inside and orders, "Suck."
You obey. His pupil significantly dilates in one eye, while the sapphire fixture in the other glints beautifully. He looks regal, and he's all yours.
"That's right," he breathes, his vision clouding over in lust as he feels the pad of your tongue, "fucking minx. Always so insolent, huh?"
"Mhmmm." When tears blur the corners of your eyes, he takes his hand and sucks right where you did. Then he pulls you in roughly, kissing you with everything in him, the lewdest grunts of pleasure escaping him when you push your tongue past his teeth.
"Come... come 'ere," he places you on top of himself, straddling him in the driver's seat, the lace of your underwear rubbing against his denim. "Gods, this fucking skirt." He pokes at it, lips curling. "You torture me, darlin'. Now you gotta make up for it."
You jut your bottom lip out, dragging your bright pink fingernails across his cheek. His mouth parts at the sight of his pretty little kitten practically begging for it.
"Is that so, handsome? Why don't you make me?"
He anchors his fingers in the thin bands of your underwear and in a sure and decisive flash of movement, he rips the material apart. He throws it over his shoulder, and it lands in the backseat, among the littered lollipop and bubblegum wrappers you leave behind. He loves it when you suck on that hard candy shell in front of him. It's partially the reason why your penchant for sweet treats has gotten worse.
Your pussy is exposed to the cool draft coming from the AC of his car, and it's a good and familiar sensation. He fondles your clit, little slow circles, making you whimper. He presses on, eager to unwrap his kitten like a piece of candy to be devoured. The zip of your miniscule skirt slides down, and your bare ass and cunny is revealed to him.
"Gods fucking damn, kitten," he rasps, then slowly buries three whole fingers into your slickness, spreading your folds, pumping in and out.
"Aghhhh, baby," erupts from your glossy mouth, breath hitching as he picks up the pace. In and out. Out and in.
His face appears almost sinister, clouded over in lust, his bottom lip trapped under bunny teeth, but then he whispers, "I love you, kitten. I love you so fucking much," and you see him as your Aemond. He's offering more than just his body - to you, he has already surrendered his heart and soul.
"I love you too, baby," you respond in as firm of a voice as you can manage, made even more difficult when he probes that sweet spot inside your sopping cunt.
You leak onto his fingers, droplets of your milky white substance beginning to pool in his palm.
"Ask me again," he snarls, shapely lips pulling back to reveal his sharp teeth.
"Wh-what?" you reply in a daze.
"That stupid question," he says. His pace doesn't slow; if he keeps up, you just might forget how to speak, save for incoherent noises that make his cock twitch.
"You'd rather be... b' with... a fancy heiress," you try, pausing when he pinches your hardened nipple over your crop top with his other hand. "Maris... Baratheon... or Floris... or - "
"Look at me, princess," he says, "You feel that? You feel me? There's your fucking answer."
"Not enough," you shake your head feebly, keeping up the ruse. Judging by the buldge he sports, he's into it too.
Smirking, he pulls his glistening fingers out of you, and helps you out of your crop top. He chucks the material somewhere, before ducking his head and nipping at the mounds of your breasts.
"Unnnghhh," you hear him, muffled by your flesh. He undoes your lace bra and sucks wildly. You cradle his head with both hands, keeping him pressed against your tits. His tongue flickers out to taste your skin, and he angles his face so that your eyes meet when he takes a nipple in his mouth.
"Shit, baby," you whimper, heating up all over from the sheer intimacy of it all.
His mouth lets you go with a resounding pop, and he tilts his head toward the backseat, hands gripping your hips to guide you. He follows suit, removing his white shirt in the process, as well as his jeans, shimmying them off his legs as he scrambles after you.
He smacks your ass with an open palm as it is raised in front of him in full view, the sharp sting of it only making you grow wetter.
You shuffle onto your hands and knees, looking back to see him already in position. His fine Valyrian steel chain dangles from his neck, the one thing still on his person. His boxers are also discarded, and his length is fully erect, slapping his stomach when he leans over to hastily cover your mouth with his. Your tongues battle for dominance, drool dripping down your chins. You feel a strain in your neck from twisting back to accommodate his kiss, but you don't care.
You feel it poking at your backside, feel him, his cock all slippery from hot precum dribbling down the sides.
He rocks back, hands digging into the soft flesh of your ass, keeping you in the prime position for him to take.
In a swift movement that nearly drives you insane, he twists downward until his face is level with your opening, and he buries his tongue in your soaking pussy. You know he likes it rough, so do you, and this is his way of getting you ready.
"Fuuckkk," you collapse forward, the side of your face colliding with the smooth leather seat. He twirls his tongue around, and you swear you can see stars.
You must have blacked out for a split second, delirious from the high only he can give you, because a moment later you feel his tip edging itself slowly into your cunt.
"Ready, baby?" he asks.
"Fuck me," is your strained plea.
His cock stretches you out, inch by inch, your slicked walls straining against his sheer size. A whining noise leaves you, music to Aemond's ears, and when he's fully sheathed, he exhales, "So pretty. Such a good little slut for me, kitten." That sends you over the edge.
You move forward slightly, then back again, your ass slamming right into his pelvis. He gets the message, smart boy that he is.
With an animalistic growl, he proceeds to frantically buck his hips into you, his huge cock just about splitting you open. He slaps your ass as he goes, making you tremble.
Each thrust sends shockwaves throughout your body, causing your eyes to roll back in your head. Your dripping cunt begins to feel that familiar ache, your lower belly spasming from his ceaseless thrusts. Your knees threaten to buckle, and if they do, you imagine that his firm throbbing shaft will be enough to keep you propped up.
"Aemond... baby... " your moans echo in the car, joined by his, "Yes... yes, kitten... so fucking good, taking me like this... pussy so sweet for me... "
The filthiest of words spill from the two of you like prayers from the damned, just begging to be answered. And seven hells, with the way Aemond makes you feel like you're floating amongst the skies, he just might be your salvation.
He does not relent, intent on rearranging your insides with how deep he buries his cock inside of you. You don't want him to stop. You never do.
You have to hold onto something to keep steady, to keep from utterly flopping down in a mindless haze. Your palms reach for the fogged up windows, and Aemond angles your bodies so that you're half-seated atop his thighs. He grabs hold of your breasts as leverage, squeezing them as your leaking cunt squeezes his cock.
The angle allows him to fill you better, and that heated coil unfurls in your belly, a signal that you are about to reach your peak.
He draws forward, pressing his mouth to the back of your neck, licking your sweat with reckless abandon.
"Baby," he moans, "I'm gonna cum... gonna fill you up... "
"Oh, yeah?" you answer in a high-pitched, wanton manner.
"Yeah," he breathes.
"You promise?"
He chuckles, and you feel the sound reverberating as your back is pressed to his chest.
"My sweet kitten," he purrs.
"I'm getting close, baby," you let him know, and he takes it as his cue to pound his cock inside faster. His lips are pressed to your ear, arms wrapped around your torso possessively.
He lets himself go, decorating your insides white with his Targaryen seed. You glance down and see it spilling out of your cunt, milky rivulets staining the once-pristine leather seat. His cock convulses in your pussy, waves of his release pulsing like fragmented aftershocks. It hits the right spot, bringing you to that little death, your walls contracting from the dizzying pleasure he gives you.
With that stupid and blissed-out smile on your face, you lean back, collapsing on top of him. You soon find yourselves curled together on the backseat, a mess of sweaty and satisfied limbs.
His silver hair is matted against his forehead, and you reach up and brush them away. He catches your hand and presses a loving kiss to the back of it.
He props his head up on one arm, as you draw lazy circles on the firm planes of his chest. You whisper sweet nothings to each other, as you had on the night you met.
"You should rile me up more often, you little brat," he smirks crookedly.
You roll your eyes, but peck his lips anyway with a cheeky smack, "Isn't that all I do, baby?"
"Sure, kitten," he says, "and I fucking love you for it."
"Oh, baby," you purr, and your wayward fingers reach down to stroke his half-erect cock. His brows raise in amusement, but it only takes several good pumps before his shaft is again taut from your touch. You whisper, "I love you too."
And so the second round begins.
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Taglists (refer here to be added)
Vhagar - @gwaynehightowerswhore @kravitzwhore @litchifaerie @g-cf2020 @9431789 @noxytopy @fan-goddess @m00n5t0n3 @diannnnsss @nsr-15 @the-awkward-barbie @rockstwrsz @yellowstonebaby @urdeftonesgrrrl @eddieslut69 @callsigncrushx @starwarsdinosaur @qweq-6802 @tulips2715 @hotdismylife @joyismm @itseunaimonia @just-mj-or-not @crystal-siren @zaldrizzes @all-for-aemond @ajantanijhum @darylandbethfanforever9 @vhwyrm @purpleskiesandroses @technicallystrangereview @jjkysnk
Targaryen - @angel6776 @different-tale-student @binchissimo @teasweeter @raging-panda @rhaenys-nyra @gelacat0413 @simplymurdock @yariany02 @barnes70stark @stupid---person @lonan-hane @thescooponsof @donalesaa @rosey1981 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @wabi-sabi1090 @girl-lost-not-found
P.S. eagle-eyed readers can probably spot the nod to chemical override ;)
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gothgoblinbabe · 30 days
Text
Babe, I'm Gonna Leave You
(chapter 1/2)
(Logan Howlett x afab reader)
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A/N: Yeah, the brain rot has reached a maximum and I've completely disregarded the consequences of a digital footprint! there's a couple descriptions of style of clothing/jewelry but you can imagine that as you please, also absolutely based off of "Babe Im Gonna Leave You" by Led Zeppelin bc idk somewhere in my delusions I think Logans a Zeppelin kinda guy and its what I've been listening to. For the sake of the plot, stick with me, you've got an imaginary ex bf and his random name I picked is gonna be Danny and he suuuucks real hard okay? okay and I need you to pretend dear lovely reader that you like led zeppelin if you don't 💔[holding your face ever so gently and smooching ur forehead] and I've seen only xmen origins, x-men, X2, and Deadpool x wolverine so pls pls forgive me if some stuff doesn't canonically fit. This is kind of cringe but I wrote too much of it to get rid of it just bare with me I beg of u and it was so long I had to split it into two parts
Summary: Meeting the infamous Wolverine got you roped into a liiiitle more than what you bargained for
Warnings: swearing, you have telekinesis and telepathy (cause that's cool, c'mon), mild angst, suggestive stuff kinda, mentions of cheating (Logan does not cheat on u I pinkie promise), Logan calls you kid but you're not actually a child lol, you're a good bit younger than him but also so is anyone else who isn't borderline immortal
Word Count: 4K
Pt 2!
[credit for text post dividers here and here]
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There had been muttering here and there between the students at the academy that Wolverine was coming back after a few years on his own, confirmed when Marie recognized the motorcycle now parked in the driveway of the mansion.
"Logan!"
He was immediately wrapped into a hug by Marie at the door, dropping his bags to the floor.
"Hey, kid, miss me?"
"Maybe," she smiled sweetly, tucking the white strands of hair behind her ears.
"Long time no see, huh?" Ororo's voice interrupted from behind her, earning a hug from Logan.
"Any one else around?" he questioned, hoisting his bag up over his shoulder again.
"Scott and Jean are around here somewhere, Charles as well. Oh, and there's a couple new faces you haven't met," she responded, smiling at the way Marie's eyes lit up at the chance to mention what she had been meaning to tell Logan.
Marie gasped and said your name, grabbing Logan's arm in excitement, "you have got to meet her. She joined us a couple of months ago, I think you'll really like her. She's kind of been like...our you, when you've been gone."
He quirked an eyebrow at that, looking between the both of them for an explanation as to what that was supposed to mean.
"You'll see," Ororo chuckled lightly, "oh, you will see."
"She's here now, I think, you should go introduce yourself to her!"
Logan had swiftly caught onto Marie's adorable attempt to play cupid and gave her a nod, "maybe when I settle in, okay, kid?"
She nodded in agreement and both her and Ororo watched him walk off further down the corridor.
"How do you think it will go when they meet?" the later of the two asked earnestly once he was out of sight.
"Well," Marie paused for a moment, thinking, "they'll be inseparable or absolutely hate each other."
Ororo nodded in agreement almost immediately, holding in a small laugh.
Much later in the evening, Logan had been beckoned into the study along with Ororo, Marie, Bobby, you, Jean and Scott by Charles.
He had been the last to enter, eyes immediately settling on your unfamiliar frame stood next to Marie with your back against the wall. You had plenty of rings adorning your fingers and necklaces dangling in front of your chest in the same kind of fashion he'd seen in those magazines with the Harley biker girls. You looked a little like one of them too, in well fitting jeans adorned with a belt, a band shirt and some chunky boots, except you were very much real and not on glossy paper.
"Oh! Logan!" Marie exclaimed upon noticing his arrival, beckoning him over with her hand. That turned your attention to him and he felt like the wind may have been knocked out of him when your eyes met his. You were far prettier than any of the girls he'd seen in any magazine.
"This is her," Marie whispered to Logan when he approached and nudged his arm, referring to when she had told him about you earlier.
"This is Logan," Marie said to you, gesturing towards him and leaning a little closer to you to whisper something he wouldn't catch, "and he's single, by the way."
A grin was plastered on her face when she pulled away and you rolled your eyes, "Marie - "
"I know, I know, too soon, but I just thought that was very good information for you to know," she raised her hands and stepped away a little, still intent on watching how the two of you interact for the first time.
Logan extended a hand for you to shake and you did the same. Your hands were small in his and your skin soft to the touch. It was almost hard for him to drop your grip when he did, nervous that he'd hold it even a second too long.
Nervous. Women had rarely ever made him nervous in the hundred - something years he'd been alive, and yet he could feel his heart pounding in his ears when you ran your hands through your hair to push it out of your face.
"Nice to meet you," he finally spoke, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket.
This may have been a good opportunity to try out your powers a little, concentrate hard enough on the handsome stranger's face to know what exactly was playing out behind his staring gaze, but you resisted the urge to do what you considered a tad bit violating.
"Same here," you responded at last, averting your gaze for just a moment to avoid inadvertently doing exactly what you had just decided you wouldn't.
Marie and Ororo had studied the small interaction between the two of you - of course - waiting for something more to happen, only to be disappointed when the both of you nodded courtly and turned away from each other.
"Well, that's not good. He'd be on her like a dog already - " Ororo started under her breath.
"No, no, I just think..." Marie interrupted, narrowing her eyes between the two of you, "I think they just need to get to know each other."
"Honey..."
"I'm telling you, I just feel like they'd be good together, they just need a chance to get to know each other!"
"Do you really think she's ready to get with another guy?" Ororo nodded her head in your direction, lowering her voice, "after all that stuff Danny pulled?"
Marie grimaced at the mention of one of the professors names, shaking her head in mild disgust, "have you seen him lately? always coming up to her in the halls and stuff, it's sad - for him, I mean."
Before either of them could further debate the topic, Charles gained everyone's attention to discuss a series of tasks he'd assigned to you all. As he spoke, you only tuned in once you heard your name.
"You are the one I'd like to send out to complete that with Daniel."
"Could, uh, can I do it with someone else? or have him do it alone, or something?"
Logan caught the confused look Jean shot your way, tilting her head before she spoke, "You don't want to go with Danny? What happened, I thought the two of you -"
You cut her off with a sharp shake of your head, scowling, "uh-uh. Hell no. He...uh, I'll tell you about it later."
You had realized the sudden vulnerability you'd found yourself experiencing in a room full of eyes on you and cleared your throat, attempting to change the subject.
"I can hang back and keep an eye on the kids, I don't mind."
"They do love you," Ororo chimed in, "and we need someone to stay back to watch them anyway."
"They only like her so much because she allows them to break the rules," Scott remarked, earning a nudge in the arm from Jean.
You sighed, rolling your eyes, "Scott, the thing with the kids in your room was one time and it was an accident - "
"Was it? Because one of them wrote 'asshole' on my bathroom mirror with sharpie."
"They're kids, they do that kind of stuff!"
"was that really one of the kids?"
You tucked your lower lip under your teeth in an attempt to smother a laugh. Logan almost immediately did the same when you darted your eyes around the room in a guilty attempt to avoid eye contact.
"You've gotta be fucking kidding me - " Scott started but Charles interrupted, holding up a hand.
"Alright, the both of you - enough. You," he continued, gesturing towards you, "may stay back with the children. Please do not allow them into anyone's personal quarters and I would advise you to hide the permanent markers for the time being, away from the children and perhaps yourself."
You nodded and hung your head low to hide the reappearing smile across your face. Logan stared inadvertently from then on, watching you twist your rings around your fingers and focusing on you intently when you spoke every now and then. When you were all dismissed by Charles and filed out of the room, you and Marie walked ahead of most of the group, almost out of ear shot.
Logan heard Jean's hushed voice behind him as she leaned into Scott, "so...what do you think happened? With Danny?"
"Who the hell is this Danny guy?" he finally asked, turning over his shoulder to interrogate the two of them.
"Well," Jean whispered your name, looking ahead to be sure you hadn't caught their conversation, "it's her boyfriend. Or was, I guess. They had a thing for awhile but they stopped hanging around each other all the sudden and she can't even stand to hear his name - she hasn't told me what it's about yet."
Logan simply hummed in acknowledgment, turning back ahead and finding his gaze caught on the sway of your hips as you walked.
"Oh no," he heard Ororo huff beside him, almost immediately following her gaze to see a guy he didn't recognize slip behind you and put an arm around your waist. Too far out of ear shot to hear the context, he watched you squirm out of the young mans grip and shake your head as you kept walking.
"Is it bad I want to get closer to hear what they're saying?" Ororo muttered, looking to the other three in her proximity.
"It's not our business," Jean reminded her.
"So, that's him?" Logan asked, gesturing to the guy still on your heels like a puppy.
"uh - huh," Ororo answered, frowning as she watched Danny make another pathetic attempt to put his arm around you.
When the two of you stopped at the far end of the hall and you told Marie it was okay to leave you, Logan, Ororo, Scott and Jean all turned the corner to the closest hallway.
"Oh, I know It's bad but I have got to know what lame excuse he's got this time," Ororo shook her head, stopping just around the corner to eavesdrop.
"Ororo - " Jean sighed, placing a gentle hand on her friend's arm, "come on."
"They're in the hallway! it's not like I'm standing outside a door," she reasoned, hushing them after so that the only voices hard were yours and Danny's.
"How many times do I have to tell you that I'm sorry - "
"Danny, many times do I have to tell you I don't care? Why won't you just leave me be?"
You sounded exasperated, your voice slightly muffled when you rubbed your face with your hands.
"What do you think he did?" Scott chimed in in a hushed town, now fully invested in the dialogue.
Logan was still stood there, though he wasn't too sure why. He could have and should have kept walking - let the three of them do their weird detective work - but instead found himself leaned against the wall with the rest of them.
"I love you, you know that, sweetheart, I - "
"ugh, don't call me that. You gross me the hell out, you know that?"
Both Jean and Ororo made almost the same shocked expression.
"oh, it has to be bad," Jean hissed, frowning at the venom in your tone.
"Tell me you're not still in love with me, you know you can't, we - " Danny's voice began again and yours cut him short with a sense of finality in your tone.
"Danny. I stopped being in love with you the day I walked in on you fucking another other girl."
Jean's hands flew to her mouth to muffle a shocked gasp. Scott stood with his arms crossed, his face in a grimace.
"ooh, that is bad," Ororo whispered just as a door slammed.
Logan furrowed his eyebrows, following everyone else as they continued their path down the hall again. This Danny kid had to be a real idiot.
⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄ * ⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄
Weeks had passed and you shared small talk with Logan every now and then, sometimes making snarky comments here and there - though more often than not together and at Scott's expense. Funnily enough, the ability to piss Scott off so much made Logan like you even more. Maybe Marie was right, you kind of are like him.
You walked alongside him down the corridor one afternoon, intending to fulfill Ororo's request for the both of you to check in on some of the newer students.
"So, do you always do your hair like that?" you raised your eyebrows up at him, eyeing the peaks in his hair.
"Yeah. What, you don't like it?" He grinned, expecting you to make some smart remark about it.
"No, not that," you giggled, "it's like lil' cat ears, it's cute."
He looked down at you quizzically, stopping in his tracks.
"cat ears?"
"mm-hm. You're like a big kitty."
You bit down another giggle, reaching up boldly to touch his hair.
He gently swatted your hand away, still with a small grin on his face.
"Don't call me that."
"Big kitty?"
"Yes."
"Okay, kitty meow - meow."
He narrowed his eyes as you turned to continue walking in an attempt to hide the huge smile plastered on your cheeks that threatened to transform into a rather loud laugh.
"Uh-huh, whatever. You better not let anyone else hear you call me that," he huffed as he caught up to you rather easily.
As you were about to make another retort, your smile dropped at the sight of a familiar and unfriendly face that had come from around a corner.
"Christ," you squeezed your eyes shut in frustration, rubbing your forehead at the sight of your ex-boyfriend.
"Hey," Logan leaned down a little, nudging you gently, "I'm here, you're good. You're fine, don't worry about him. It's just us, alright? Walk past him like you don't even see him."
Though he'd be embarrassed to admit and absolutely deny it if anyone asked, he'd unfortunately (for himself) harbored a crush on you that only took a couple weeks to develop. He hadn't even really gotten the chance to know you yet, though that was precisely why he was glad about moments like these. He wanted to, even if he felt like a school kid with a playground crush.
You had simply nodded at his words, allowing him to place a gentle hand on your upper back to guide you down the hall with him. Even through the layer of a jacket and t-shirt, you could feel the warmth of his hand on you.
Logan remembered that moment in the hall on the first day you'd met, but never pestered you for details about what the hell went on before he got back. He figured when and if you wanted to tell him, that was up to you.
Keeping your eyes straight ahead, it took what felt like years to pass your ex-boyfriend. When you finally did, you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, until his voice stopped you in your tracks.
"That's my shirt."
You whipped your head around, feeling Logan slip his arm a little further around you as a protective reflex.
"What?" you furrowed your eyebrows, looking down at your attire. The shirt, a tad oversized and well worn, was so familiar that you had completely forgotten it once did belong to him.
"I want it back," he spoke again, crossing his arms.
"Do you really want it back?"
You were beyond fed up with his pestering at this point, already having decided what may make the message clear.
"Yes."
"Okay. Fine."
You pulled away from Logan and slipped off your jacket, turning around to hand it to him. He gave you a confused look, hesitantly taking it out of your hands. In a matter of seconds, you turned back around and tugged the t-shirt up and over your head, tossing it directly at Danny's chest. You turned back and took your jacket from Logan's hands, zipping it far enough to cover your bra. In the few seconds you had stood facing him, he had done his best to keep his eyes away from your body and failed miserably, looking up after to see the asshole a few feet away already glaring at him.
"What, you're just gonna walk around like that? And what are you doing hanging out with him anyway, don't you know he - "
You groaned at the sound of Danny's voice again, gently tugging Logan by the hand in the opposite direction as you began to walk away, "yap, yap, yap - just shut the fuck up."
Logan couldn't help the smirk plastered across his face as you continued to walk, finally turning a corner. Before you could apologize to him for having to awkwardly stand witness to that, Scott's voice echoed from the stairway above you.
"Hey, Charles is looking for you two. He says he has something he needs you to take care of, he didn't say what."
"Thanks for the specifics, Scott," you replied sarcastically, "but we're supposed to check on - "
"I know," he interrupted, "I got Marie and Bobby to cover you. You're welcome, by the way."
You rolled your eyes and looked back to Logan, dreading what exactly it was Charles wanted from you.
That landed you where you were the next morning, heaving your bags into the back of Logan's truck.
"If we have to take the truck like two states over, can I at least drive?"
The plane being needed for another assignment that Jean, Scott and Ororo were assigned left the two of you with Logan's truck. You'd been asked to retrieve a rare mechanical piece needed for the construction of some new device; you'd only been half-listening when Charles started to explain the details, lost in thought after he'd mentioned it would require the two of you to sleep out overnight.
Man, that had made your chest feel tight. It had been almost physically painful trying to swallow down every tell that you really liked him for the past few weeks and now you had no choice than to be each others only company for nearly 2 days.
"Yeah, in your dreams, kid," Logan scoffed playfully and brought you back to reality, dangling the keys in his hand.
You narrowed your eyes at the keyring he began to spin around his finger. In a split second, the jangle of the metal could be heard as you snatched them from his hand with only a focused thought.
You caught them in your raised palm and tilted your head, a terribly smug smile across your cheeks.
"Looks like my dreams came true, huh?" you teased, walking past a still mildly distraught Logan to get into the drivers side.
"If you dent it, I'll kill ya," he warned as he finally slid into the passenger seat, watching your every move as you started the engine and carefully reversed out of the garage.
"Uh-huh, sure," you retorted sarcastically, "I'm terrified of the kitty claws."
"What did I say about calling me that?"
"Calling you what?" you feigned ignorance, fumbling with the knob on the stereo to change the station as your eyes stayed glued to the road.
"And don't mess with everything, kid, you'll end up breaking something. She's on old girl, you gotta - "
"Dude," you interrupted, simultaneously cranking down your window and fishing a pair of sunglasses out of his center console, "I know how to drive, chill out."
"Dude," he mocked, "this truck is probably almost as old as you, you gotta be careful."
You rolled your eyes under the shades of the worn aviators you had slipped onto your nose, simply nodding and continuing to flip through stations.
"Pick one and stick with it, will you?"
"Ooh, is someone mad I got the keys?"
Before he could say something in response, you gasped at sound of the song playing on the station you had just switched to, twisting the knob almost as far as it could go.
Logan recognized the familiar thump of "babe I'm gonna leave you" by Led Zeppelin, furrowing his eyebrows when you began to nod your head and sing along.
"You like Led Zeppelin?" he nearly had to shout over the music, leaning in to you a little further.
"Yeah," you responded, reaching over to turn the music down just enough for you to hear each other and glancing at him momentarily, "How come you're looking at me like that?"
He unfurrowed his eyebrows and shrugged, keeping his gaze on the road ahead as he spoke, " just never pegged you for a Zeppelin kind of girl, I guess."
"No? What's that supposed to mean?"
You were smiling again and it was excruciatingly difficult for him not to stare when you looked so good in the spot he usually sat with his old sunglasses on.
"Didn't think you had good taste in music."
That made you giggle and you shook your head, turning the stereo back up to a booming volume.
He watched you tap your fingers on the steering wheel to the drums as you continued to drive, occasionally moving to push your windswept hair out of your face. The morning sun shining through your open window highlighted your features perfectly and Logan sighed without a thought, unheard over the music. Jesus, he had it bad.
You could feel his stare in your peripheral vision every time he looked to you and it felt far warmer than the sun beating down on you from the opposite direction. You truly rarely ever used your developing skill of telepathy, feeling it was only justified when absolutely necessary to obtain information, but his burning gaze nearly had you veering off the road at times and his prior answer to the question of why he was looking at you that way wasn't too convincing.
With a deep breath, already wondering if it was a mistake, you kept your eyes focused to the road but gradually concentrated on the man beside you. Sometimes people's thoughts would appear as inner dialogue, other times as imagined scenarios, daydreams or visuals. You were confused, then, when you only saw an image of yourself as you were now. If you concentrated too hard, your own thoughts would transfer to Logan's mind and it would be humiliatingly obvious that you had been poking around in his consciousness and so you tried to clear your mind and try again, assuming your own mind was too preoccupied with yourself to concentrate properly.
Still, you could only see the image of yourself driving from the perspective of the passengers seat, one hand on the wheel and the other in your hair as you propped your elbow on the door. This time, though, you could hear the accompanying echo of Logan's voice over the hum of the music you had tuned out.
Is her hair always like that? I like it that way. Pretty.
You swallowed hard, fidgeting with the hair that was between your fingers. It's a compliment - innocent enough, and undeniably kind of sweet. You felt guilty then for probing his thoughts and nearly shook yourself out of it, only to realize the image in Logan's mind was no longer of just your profile. He was thinking about your legs, thighs squished against the seat of the truck.
Fuck
You nearly choked on your own saliva, clearing your throat at the echo of his voice again and immediately withdrawing yourself from his mind.
"You okay?" Logan spoke aloud, putting a gentle hand on your upper arm.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," you lied, trying with every fiber of your being to just keep all focus on the road. You knew you shouldn't have done that. It was just a thought, though, nothing said aloud to change anything between the two of you, and so you pretended the best you could that you hadn't heard or seen a thing.
About eight hours, a handful of dad rock albums and a stop to switch seats later, you finally pulled into the parking lot of the nearest motel you had found didn't have a highlighted "no vacancy" sign.
"If there's fucking bed bugs in here, I will never let you hear the end of it," you warned from the passenger seat.
"I think you'd talk my ear off till the day I die anyway," he scoffed, shifting the truck into park and pulling the keys from the ignition.
"You won't die for another hundred-something years."
"Exactly my point, honey."
You rolled your eyes and slipped out of the truck as he did, pretending the nickname hadn't made your face burn. You both grabbed your belongings and once inside you looked around the small lobby as Logan checked you in, impressed with how surprisingly clean the place seemed to be.
"Hey, is that okay?"
Logan's voice took your attention from the painting on the wall you'd been inspecting and you raised your eyebrows.
"Huh?
"Uh, there's a room left but it's only got one bed."
Your face dropped and you looked between him and the poor kid behind the counter who already looked nervous as all hell.
"You're kidding."
"We can keep driving, but we've already been on the road all day and I don't think there's another place around here for a good few miles."
He was much more calm than you expected him to be and you exhaled, thinking of the literal pain in the ass caused by sitting in the car for so many hours.
"Ugh, fine."
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A/N: I had to split this in two because it was so long but If anyone likes this at all I will post da other part cause I like spewing my brain rot on the internet <3
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bettysupremacy · 3 months
Note
can u do something w james potter? a transfer student from america comes to hogwarts and he’s all love at first sight😭❤️do anything u want w it :)
Short n sweet but a good way to get back into writing<3
Your new friends are splayed in the room in front of you. Sirius is sprawled over Remus on the couch, watching him, very lackluster, doing his homework. Mary and Lily are squished into an armchair across from you and James, tangled limbs and giggles as Marlene lay on the rug in front of the fire with Dorcus, tired after supper feast.
The Scottish highlands were a drastic difference from the America you knew. The shops, the people, the boys. Everything seemed so hard to squeeze into. Your accent pushed you away from the people, and your culture pushed you away from fitting in. But they helped. The silly band of tired teens in front of you never once let you stand outside the circle of friendship they’d had formed years before your arrival.
“I could take you to hogsmeade? You know, to look around.” James looks up at you from where he leans against your arm. You sit higher than him, leg draped across his own. It makes his skin tingle.
He’s been a nonstop stream of words ever since supper, only pausing to stuff dining hall food into his mouth. He swears he doesn’t know what he’s going to do when he graduates, the dining haul being a necessary location in his schoolboy life.
He adds factually. “You know they actually have-“
“James,” Sirius snaps, a rubber band stretched too far. “Please.”
“What?”
Sirius only sighs. He doesn’t mean to be cruel to his closest friend.
James’ eyes flit around the room self consciously. All of his friends stare. Very unimpressed.
“What?” He repeats again, a little more desperate, a little more whiny.
“James,” Remus says gently. “Let her breathe.”
James looks to you suddenly, flames coloring his cheeks in the hue of orange light flickering off the grand fire.
It’s apparent James is embarrassed. His silence works its way into the cracks between Mary and Lily, the lulls in conversation between Remus and Sirius, until it becomes too much to handle. Sirius feels bad, he really does, but the way Remus shakes his head disappointedly fills him with something stubborn.
The vibe of the room is ruined subsequently. The boys go up to the dorm, Mary and Lily slip into their own room, shared kisses following, and you find the tangle of girls In front of the fire asleep, Marls arm tugging Dorcas closer.
“It’s okay,” you rush once everyone’s gone. “Hogsmeade sounds fun.”
“Are you sure?” James is insecure, quiet now, away from his friends ears.
You nod adamantly. “We didn’t have anything fun at Ilvermorny.”
He’s out of it now, heated in the face and embarrassed. He doesn’t mean to turn himself away from you, but his friends gnaw at him. They were well-meaning, but that doesn’t stop the green rumble of insecurity coursing through his body. He feels it so intensely he fears he may need to slip upstairs and go to sleep.
“Hey,” You murmur quietly searching for his eyes. When he gives them to you, you look up at the flushed boy through your eyebrows. “Just you and me?”
He stutters for the first time since he met you. “Yeah- uh, yeah, just me and you, sounds cool.”
You nod, leaning over to kiss the side of his mouth sweetly. He reels.
“Don’t be embarrassed.” You whisper, slipping out of the armchair.
“I’m not.” He insists.
You smile, squeezing his arm. “I know.”
He watches you walk up to your dormitory, a hunger in his eyes and a part in his lips.
“We’re not asleep.” Marlene grins. Dorcas snores and Marls opens her eyes. “Well, maybe she is.”
James flinches harshly. “Oh, fuck off.”
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prongsiepotter · 5 months
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down bad | j. potter
summary: you're so in love with james potter but he's a little too good at giving you mixed signals that it might actually ruin you
pairing: james potter x reader
warnings: angst, a little fluff if u squint, and so much longing & yearning. omg so much of it
a/n: i am unfortunately completely obsessed with taylor swift's new album, so everything i'll write in the near future will be based on one of the ttpd songs (yey!) & this one's based on 'down bad.' feel free to send requests if u want pick the next song for me x
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"So he just said no?" Mary all but hisses. Marlene shushes her, glancing around the classroom before leaning down from where she's sitting on your desk.
"Are you sure it didn't mean something else?" She rests her hand on yours. "Maybe it was just a misunderstanding. He wouldn't…he just wouldn't, right?" You smile weakly at her, then shake your head. She squeezes your hand.
"The note was pretty clear," you say with a soft sigh. The sentence rolls off your tongue with unhidden bitterness. "Sorry, can't. Need to catch up on some assignments."
You would show it to them, so they could see for themselves and maybe divert their sympathetic gazes from you. But you had set it on fire right after reading it, just like the other two notes friendly rejecting you. You still aren't sure why you did it. After all, you did just tell Mary and Marlene that you're fine. At least you will be. You should not be this devastated over some guy.
Even if that guy is James Potter.
James who is now strolling into the room with his mates, looking as invincible and full of life as he always has and always will.
Quickly, you force a smile at the girls and pull out the chair next to you. Marlene, bless her, gets the hint and lightly shoves Mary's shoulder to have her take the seat. You're going through your book bag, pulling out your inkwell when four bodies make their way past your desk.
"Ladies," comes Sirius cheerfully loud voice as he bows at the waist because, of course, he does. Peter and Remus aren't as dramatic with their greetings. The latter, however, does take the time to slow down in front of you until you look up and return his kind smile. Belatedly, you realise perhaps you shouldn't have done that. You lock eyes with James, who's right behind him.
He sends you an easy smile and a wink. Like he's letting you in on another one of his rare secrets. You're not sure if you're smiling back, but it's almost a given that you are.
He takes his seat behind you, laughing blithely at a joke Pete just told, and it's all so painfully charming that you want to die. You fear he will always make you feel like this. Like you're somehow the chosen one. It's such a sickening feeling, you can't help but whip around and look at Mary, pleadingly. Though, you're not sure what you're pleading for anymore.
She shoots you another unbearably sympathetic smile, looking like she's close to cooing at you. You sigh, hiding your face in the crook of your arms.
You can't help but think how easy it would be to just cry right here. It's embarrassing to admit, but you've done it plenty of times over the weekend after you had seen James out at Hogsmeade with the others. Miserably, you had realised that he was, in fact, not too busy working on his assignments. He just didn't want to spend time with you.
You almost let out a sob.
A hand rubs your back and you know it can only be Mary, but you let yourself believe that it's the universe consoling you, as if to say there, there because there's nothing fair about this and she knows it, but there's nothing she can do it about now, can she?
History of Magic passes in a blur. Before you know it, you're in the library, pouring all of yourself into an essay that you normally couldn't have cared less for. But you're willing to do whatever it takes to keep yourself busy. You know your thoughts will stray the moment you're lying quietly in bed anyway, awaiting another sleepless night.
You finish the sentence and look up, satisfied with your work. Apparently it's been a while since you've torn your gaze away from the parchment before you, seeing how stiff your neck is. You knead at the uncomfortable knot in your shoulder while looking around the library. It's relatively full today with every other seat being taken.
Which makes it all the more irritating when your gaze snatches on a figure sat at the other table right across from you. He's not even looking up, head bent over a book, but you would recognise that mop of unruly dark curls anywhere. James must've seen you when he came in, but that might have just been your hopeful self speaking.
Begrudgingly, you resume your writing and it takes everything in you not to look up every few minutes. To glimpse the slight furrow in his brows and the small pout of his lips as he's carefully reading every paragraph. You know he's likely looking for something to prepare for a prank. Normally, you would simply go over and ask him what he's up to. You know he'd happily tell you. But you're glad to have at least a little bit of pride and dignity left that keeps you rooted in your spot.
Seemingly not enough though since all you can think about is that there's no way he doesn't know that you're right there. It really does make you want to bang your head against the table. Maybe that would finally catch James' attention.
Pathetically, you glance at him only to notice that he's packing his things to leave. The tip of your feather goes back to the parchment so fast, it almost pierces it. You haven't got a clue what you're writing, too busy tracking James' movements from the corner of your eyes.
You watch him stand up, walking down the length of his table towards the door down the hall on his right. Then he stops. You hold your breath. James seemingly hesitates before fixing the strap of his bag on his shoulder. He turns left and walks towards you. You're staring at your hand as it writes illegible words, completely out of your control, when you feel a tap on your shoulder.
"Hey," James whispers when you look up, giving you a familiar grin and small wave. It's an innocent gesture, sweet, but there's almost something hostile about this encounter. Like you have no choice but to let him occupy every single one of your senses. You stare up at him, a matching smile sweeping over your lips before you can think better of it.
That's when you notice the scarf he's wearing and its frizzled ends. It's yours. You know it is.
Did he not give it back to you after one of your nights out together on the stands? After you had flown on your brooms, so close to the sea of stars that you could've dipped your fingertips in them? You could almost hear the echoes of your windblown laughters as the memory pushes itself into the foreground of your mind.
James is sitting still, rosy-cheeked, watching you with curious eyes while you babble on about the Leo constellation. He had just told you that you could do whatever you want to him—another quite maddening thing to casually say to someone—and now he's apparently keen on staying true to his word by letting you wrap your scarf around his neck.
It took some convincing before he'd finally accepted it from you. You promised that you wouldn't be cold with your high collared sweater, but James only gave in when you had accepted his wool hat in exchange.
He had carefully put it on you, smoothing down your hair and pulling out some loose strands to frame your face, mumbling something about how much lovelier his hat looked on you than on him. You told yourself that he surely must've known what it did to you when his knuckles brushed your cheeks. Right? Surely.
James pokes your side, chuckling, as if he sensed that your mind was drifting elsewhere. He cracks another joke, saying that if you were the one to teach him Astronomy, he might actually pay attention in class. He says it like it's a deal and you feel inclined to do whatever it takes to hold up your side of the bargain.
You laugh helplessly, feeling drunk on a little bit of everything; the stars above, James' gentle laughter, the familiar smell of broom wax and crisp winter air. This must be cosmic love, you think to yourself. Your breath clouds in front of you, becoming one with his. All the while, you're too aware of James' shoulder bumping into you, his leg pressed against yours. There's no one out here but you two.
You have all the room in the world, but James chose to sit this close to you. Probably close enough for him to hear your heart pounding. Did he do it for a reason? You'd love to know.
"You don't need me to pay attention in Astronomy," you find yourself saying in response, something daring laced in the drawl of your voice. His eyes flash, bright and a bit wild. It's the same look he gets after you challenge him to a race on your brooms. His grin grows wide, carefree, and oh so lovely.
"Please." His face comes impossibly closer and you lean in without another thought, eager to take whatever it is James will give you. You feel his breath on your lips.
"I will always need you, Y/N."
Somehow he makes it sound genuine.
Then he winks and leaves you a horrid, forsaken mess. Somehow he makes that feel like a nice gesture too.
Incredulously, you stare at him as he leans back, elbows resting on the seats behind him. James Potter, you think weakly, what are you doing to me? Not for the first time you ponder what you would do if you can't have him. You almost double over from the striking pain in your chest.
Then he points out another constellation and you nearly forget all about yourself. He's good at that. Never ceasing to show you that the world is bigger than the two of you. Making you forget and remember that you might be in love. Because what if you were in love?
James cups the back of his neck, then points towards the door of the library, almost shyly letting you know that he's leaving. You nod slowly, still dazed. A small smile crosses his lips before you watch him round the corner, his back disappearing from your sight.
You blink, letting out a ragged breath. You feel like you got the wind knocked out of you. Like you just lost your twin. Someone who knows you like no one else ever will. Someone who might just be your better half. Someone who sometimes makes you feel like they want nothing to do with you.
It's ridiculous, you think bleakly to yourself, you're so down bad.
And James Potter makes it feel like a curse and a blessing.
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mylittleredgirl · 6 months
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i know some of you have been pressing your faces to the glass waiting for me to see this one in particular SO i saw "the nurses" the other night and am still thinking about it!!
i love love love it when characters get pushed to a point where you can almost see their childhood selves pop out, like are they even talking about what's happening right now? or are their 12-year-old hearts just screaming?? i love that margaret's outburst is both irrational (the hostile work environment is coming from inside the house; i was yelling at my tv "baby it's your fault!!!") and so so honest.
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[this turned into a bit of a character thesis, so not only is there a readmore, there will also be a reblog soon with the rest of the post because i maxed out the image limit] [edit: part ii now in the reblogs!]
this whole time, margaret has treated her subordinates with a heavy hand because she thinks it's the right and fair thing to do. the rules say this is how it works!
she maintains a high standard of excellence in brutal circumstances, but she's also reactive, moody, and unforgiving. she's often shown on the edge of losing control and authority, she inflames situations by overreacting, and the thing she punishes most egregiously is disrespect (toward frank, toward the army, toward herself). she intentionally underlines the distance between herself and the other nurses at every turn.
from season 3 "there's nothing like a nurse": [all IDs in alt]
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really, everything she thinks and does comes from a place of "they're not supposed to like me," but the childish part of her that is completely unable to see her own behavior is confused and hurt because "i'm just doing my job so why don’t they like me???"
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it's her job to maintain discipline, but especially here in 4077-land, she doesn't have to lead with the whip. henry was beloved because he was an overly permissive clown, which will never be her speed, but colonel potter has all the same training as she does. he's loved and respected as the Good Regular Army Guy because he leads with discernment and mutual respect.
it's easier for him. he's more experienced, he's respected and supported from above and below, and he has a calm temperament — which isn't nothing.
from season 4 "the interview":
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whether she's aware of this as a problem or not, we at home can see how margaret's inability to control her emotional reactivity causes her as much grief as her inability to control other people.
if she were capable of laughing off small slights, hawkeye and trapper wouldn't have used her as a chew toy so much, and henry might have taken her real concerns more seriously if they weren't lost in the noise of daily fits, you know? she rarely started it, so i'm not blaming her for the hostile chaos circus of seasons 1-3, but i am saying she would have had a better time if she knew how to take a few deep breaths.
this description from the script, after the near-brawl in the nurses' tent in act one, is basically her character thesis statement:
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and here, when she's reacting fully emotionally, the truth comes out! the reason that she won't be flexible and show compassion to the nurses isn't because of the rules, but because they're mean to her!!
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that's obviously a very bad place to lead from. she has enormous institutional power over them, including controlling their freedom of movement, but she feels like all the other girls in school are hanging out together and they hate her. because they are! and they do! the fight in act one boils over when they make fun of her hair, and that sent all of them back to middle school.
and in many ways, that's where margaret's emotional maturity is stuck (which is, i think, why i find her so endearing). she can't see herself. she knows they don't like her, trust her, or want her around, but she doesn't understand how she dug this hole herself, or how to get out of it.
to add insult to jealous injury, one of the nurses (mary jo, who gets between margaret and baker to stop the fight and takes care of the others in different ways) is margaret's age, and the others look to her as their chosen leader and personal support.
and i'm sure margaret had NO IDEA this was the messy truth until she heard it come out of her mouth.
and her emotionally breaking on the "one lousy cup of coffee" in particular…
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i wonder, how often does some version of that first tent scene happen? does she deliver their assignments every night? she walks in already defensive, they immediately stop laughing, and then... she either finds a reason to scold them or they ice her out until she leaves. (and they probably start laughing again as soon as she does!)
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from her perspective, when she arrived for the dreaded sleepover and they turned out the lights the minute she walked in, it's like they cancelled the nightly coffee klatch just to avoid spending one social minute with her.
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i also think the nurses are right when they assumed that she wouldn't have accepted an invitation to hang out with them (and might even have snapped at them for being inappropriate for asking). she doesn't cross that emotional line, even when she should — she didn't know gaynor was spiraling after losing so many patients in a row, and didn't respond compassionately when she learned.
has she ever invited them for coffee or a friendly chat? no.
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...... but her circumstances have recently changed.
[reblog with the rest of it is here!]
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denwritesandcries · 7 months
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The Wilderness Wants Us To (Kiss) – YJS
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Pairing: poly!yellowjackets x fem!reader
Summary: You have experienced all kinds of weirdness ever since the plane crashed months ago, so why the weirdest thing so far is it seems like all the girls are suddenly courting you? 
Or, a series of kisses between you and your dear football team.
Word count: 4,6k.
Content: cursing, kisses, fluff, suggestive, angst if you blink, slightly dark, intoxication, the doomcoming, the wilderness but nobody has been eaten (yet).
Note: They’re all weirdos in a romantic, toxic and codependent way.
English is not my first language.
Your life has stagnated into a familiar routine since the plane crash. To clean. Hunt. Eat. Exist. Survive. Doing the same chores in the cabin, the usual hunting trip, seeing the same faces every day, not dying of hunger.  Not dying of boredom.
Nothing really seems to change other than the cultish trends that your friends seem to be slowly embracing, so if something different happens, you notice it immediately.
Once is an incidence.
Two, it could be a coincidence, but there are no coincidences in the wilderness.
Three is a pattern. That exists in the wilderness.
And the fourth is proof that there is definitely something weird going on – if you even have a sense of what is normal or not –, something that you have no idea what it is, but you know it’s there.
There's something wrong with your teammates. I mean, there's something wrong with all of you, but that's different even for them.
The thing is that you, thinking that maybe it was just in your head, only realized that you weren't imagining anything after the fifth time it happened and now that you know you can't stop thinking about it. Events keep coming back to you from times when this has happened before and you never connected the pieces.
You didn't notice at first, of course you didn't. Physical affection was becoming more common and normal between all of you every day and also because it was Jackie, the captain of your team, and physical affection on Jackie's part was already completely normal even before the plane crashed. She liked to pat you on the shoulder and hug you goodbye after classes and parties – as if she hadn't spent the day barking orders at everyone during practice, but it's Jackie and you really like her a lot, so it's okay –, you could always see her clinging to Shauna's arm, if not hers, then whoever was closest to replace her for a few minutes. Jackie likes to touch and you know it.
Receiving affection from her is like second nature, so you don't even blink when, on yet another boring and lazy afternoon, you give Jackie her old walkman, now repaired and working, and get a kiss as a thank you.
It was a silly treat to make her smile, just because she seemed so sad lately that it made you sad too. She squeals loudly and excitedly, before wrapping her arms around your neck and placing a kiss on your cheek.
She immediately runs off somewhere saying she was going to test it and show it to Shauna, completely abandoning the task of pretending to chop wood so you can complete it.
You only process what just happened when you hear a giggling coming from nearby, because of course Jackie would kiss you in front of your younger colleagues.  One of them points at your cheek provocatively and you lift a hand to your face to feel the texture of pink and shiny lipstick marking your skin. Of course, silly you not to assume that Jackie Taylor wouldn't stop wearing makeup just because of some plane crash.
Whatever, you thought, not bothering to clean the mark. Jackie is sweet. She does things like that all the time, obviously you wouldn't think there's anything weird about it. It wasn't even the first time she kissed you. Kisses on the cheek were a thing long before you left civilization.
You only wipe the stain from your face, in a short and hasty gesture, when you return to the cabin and Mari makes one of her smart comments about it, because there really was no big deal, but the provocation still makes you a little nervous.
(Jackie wears lipstick a lot more often after that, even though she's quickly running out of the only one she has left, but you don't say anything. It would be really weird to imply that you noticed her lips that much. Which you didn't do, no way.)
The second time it happens shouldn't have left you as perplexed as it did, after all everyone knew that Shauna Shipman was never far behind Jackie in the things she did, but it didn't pass through your head that she would kiss you. It was Shauna. Even though she was never rude, you weren't really close and it was embarrassing to admit that you found her a little intimidating. She had a tendency to stare in silence for a long time, which made you avoid conversations whenever you could.
Well, it wasn't a kiss-kiss since it wasn't actually on the mouth, but seeing as you weren't expecting it at all, it could have been. You're learning that reading Shauna is much more complicated than it seems, making it difficult to know if what awaits you is a punch, a bite, or – the most recent discovery – a kiss.
It happened because of the thing that seemed to drive your little society: meat. Because the food was almost running out and no matter what you and Natalie brought, it seemed like there would never be enough. And Shauna was hungry. Painfully hungry.
She always seemed to get hungry more quickly than the others, craving meat with an almost drunken need and you didn't quite understand why, even though you had noticed this detail some time ago. So when you and Nat are seen arriving back at the cabin carrying a deer, a big deer, Shauna practically runs up to the two of you, basically ripping the antler out of the blonde's hands and making you stumble to follow her back to the meat house.
You offer to help her just out of politeness and how rushed she seems, without expecting a positive response since it was common knowledge that Shauna preferred to work alone.
However, she nods her head enthusiastically as she hands you a knife and you swear you've never seen someone look so happy to slit an animal's throat alongside someone else.
When the task is done, you end up at the door with a full tray ready to be prepared for dinner back and Shauna is right behind you, with that same enthusiasm and silent yearning. It's a little unnerving, but at least she's not staring at the back of your head like she's trying to burn you like she usually does. You guessed any progress was welcome.
You just didn't expect it to progress to Shauna pulling you by the elbow to face her and tilting your face towards hers. You're so startled by the sudden touch that you only feel your face heat up as hot, wet lips meet the corner of your mouth when Shauna pulls away, taking the tray from your hands as if it weighed nothing and continuing on her way, muttering a quiet and embarrassed “thank you” over her shoulder.
You stood there like an idiot, feeling your bottom lip and part of your cheek tingle where she touched you just a moment before.
So Shauna kissed you. Okay. Nice. Maybe she was just very grateful and very hungry. Twice, coincidence. Nothing more than that.
 Right?
(Shauna looks away from you when she's caught staring at that night, which never had happened, but you attribute her red face to the fact that you're sitting by the fire.)
The third time is the one that makes you go “okay, maybe that's a thing now,” because apparently the kisses have nothing to do with Jackie-Shauna or simply gratitude – at least not entirely – and much more to do with the fact that it's you.
Which actually doesn't make much sense. Van and Taissa are together, why would either of them feel the need to kiss someone else? Why would they both feel?  And why you? It's true they haven't told anyone yet, but you know. It's a little hard not to notice when they both disappear at the same time into the forest or behind the cabin so often, but still. You don't kiss other people when you're committed. It's a principle, damn it.
Anyway, it's starting to get cold, you think there's just over two months left until winter arrives, maybe less, which makes tasks much more complicated and annoying to do. Especially when it comes to washing clothes.
Luck – Mari's damn shuffle – decided that you, Tai and Van would be the ones to do the laundry this time and the three of you dragged yourselfs grumbling and complaining to the lake, carrying piles of clothes in your arms.
Now, of all the things you have to do around the cabin, scrubbing clothes in cold running water is probably the one you hate the most. Cold, wrinkled hands, chills running down your spine, ew. The fact that Van and Tai went with you makes things at least a little less boring, with the redhead happily filling the silence, her silly jokes making the task almost bearable to accomplish. Almost.
“Ugh,” You groan for what feels like the thousandth time in the last hour, “We’re gonna end up catching a cold like this.”
“You definitely will, if you keep annoying me like this,” Tai replies, swinging her arm towards you, cold water splashing in your arms, “I'm gonna push your dramatic ass into the river, I'm warning you.”
The drops make another chill run through your body, so just for the audacity, you straighten up and let your body fall against hers with the most done expression you can muster in a few seconds.
Tai screams your name indignantly when a wet t-shirt slips out of her hands and falls straight to the ground, but you don't pay much attention when lets out a loud and exaggeratedly long sigh, hearing Van’s laugh as she watches the scene.
And Van, wonderful, too sweet for her own good, Van, decides to finally take pity on your little show – maybe you really were spending too much time with Jackie – and finish what you had left of your part of the pile and you would definitely have jumped in her arms and kissed her for it, if you weren't, you know, in front of her girlfriend.
It turns out that blinking your eyes and sighing doesn't work as well for you as it does for Jackie, because as soon as you get ready to go back, bending down to pick up the heavy basket full of clothes, a familiar hand pushes your chest.
“Shit, Taissa!”
“I said I would do it, didn’t I?” She stands in front of you, hands on her hips and one eyebrow raised as she watches your form lying, shaking and soaking wet at the river's edge.
Van's laugh doesn't bring you that rush of happiness from moments before, since now you're sure that she only decided to help you because she knew what Tai was going to do anyway. That little shit.
You walk past them with the basket in your hands, a trail of water in your wake and a frown on your face.
The way back is completely silent, except for the sound of your fast breathing in your rush to get there and warm up and the girls' requests for you not to get upset over a silly joke. Whatever. You won't say a word to them no matter what they do.
“Oh, come on,” Van wraps an arm around your neck, “We didn’t want to make you so upset, right Tai?”
Tai moves closer, her shoulder brushing against yours, but you remain quiet regardless, even if your willpower to remain upset wanes a little.
“Right” she agrees, sounding very unconvincing, “What can we do to make it up to you?”
“We are so sorry,” Van reiterates, blinking innocently.
Your only response is a noise from your throat that sounds a lot like a petulant mumble and you feel the look they exchange over your shoulder.
And then Van's arm brings you closer and there are lips on either side of your neck. You freeze, breath hitches.
It's not fast like the other ones, but long and drawn out as if it's trying to prove you. A shiver runs down your spine and the baby hairs on the back of your neck stand up, even though you swear it's just because your skin is still damp from the fall. You can feel Van's hair tickling your face and Tai's breath is warm against your chin.
You blink and Van is walking away with a wolfish smile on her lips, whistling absentmindedly and Taissa has the basket you were carrying in her own arms.
“Aren’t you coming?” Van turns when she notices you still standing and Tai arches an eyebrow, as if to say 'so?' and you stumble after them.
“...Sure, whatever!” You stutter, face as red as your goalie’s hair, “But if I get sick, that’s on you!”
“You won’t!”
You return to the cabin with your head down, but for a completely different reason this time. You feel weird, embarrassed, even with your friends walking calmly beside you. It feels weird to just call them friends too.
(Three times – or was it four? It's a pattern. Definitely a pattern.)
You do, in fact, get sick and the fifth time feels more like a fever dream than anything.
Seriously. You survive a plane crash without any serious injuries, but a flu is what knocks you out. You end up in the attic, with a heavy chest, incessant sneezing and a high fever that won't let you sleep.
And of course, Misty Quigley hovering over you like a hawk.
In fact, all your friends seem to be hovering over you in an overprotective way these days, which might not be strange considering the situation, but other people in the group have gotten sick before, including the younger ones, and none of them have reacted like this.
Van and Tai spent the entire time staring like kicked puppies from across the room until Misty kicked them both downstairs so you could try to get some sleep. It wasn't doing much good, but the momentary tranquility was really appreciated.
Misty has been with you the whole time since your fever started and you let her ramble happily while she plays nurse, putting damp cloths on your forehead and helping you drink hot tea, even though you insist you're well enough to do so. She seems very happy to be helpful, so you let her spoil you as much as she wants.
You turn over on the cold floor, wrapping the blankets tighter around you as you sneeze again and Misty sits next to you, but there's nothing she can do at the moment to make you better, so she stays still, looking nervous and pushing her glasses on the tip of the nose with her fingers.
You think about how she seemed to have looked with longing and something that might have been envy when Jackie ran her hand through your hair in the morning before going outside with Shauna after leaving you another blanket. She looked the same when Lottie rubbed your shoulder gently and spent time by your side throughout the afternoon, leaving what appeared to be a half-cut crystal near where your head rested. It's just like she wanted something, but didn't know what or if she could do it. You don't know exactly what too.
Your ears ring and you think about your teammates, your friends and kisses. Four kisses on three occasions. Things that didn't happen before, but apparently happen now and that follow a strange pattern. You wonder who will be next to follow it.
You do what you do next in the fog of sleep and fever, because you'll never be able to actually sleep if you don't have a proper place to rest your head. It has nothing to do with the possibility opened in your last thought.
Her legs are soft under the blue and yellow shorts she wears when you crawl around and rest your head on them and it's certainly much more comfortable than the floor.
“Talk,” You mumble, clearing your throat at the hoarse voice.
“What?” She squeaks and you can tell it caught her in surprise by the way her eyes roam over your form, unsure of what she just heard and what's going on.
Misty is clearly alarmed, arms raised above her body as if she's afraid to touch you, her glasses falling onto the tip of her nose again as she looks down to face you, blonde curls falling across her face.
“What– What are you doing?” She asks.
“Weren’t you saying something about Plato?” You hold back a yawn as you fix yourself on her lap, ignoring her question completely, “Come on, keep going.”
She seems to ponder for a second, jaw dropped in confusion, but you don't move, so she picks up where you assume she left off. After a few minutes listening with your eyes closed, you feel her soft hand rest hesitantly on your back, running her fingers up and down when you don't protest.
You let out a sigh when you finally manage to relax, her voice calming the ringing in your ears a little and when you squint your eyes, Misty seems perfectly satisfied.
That's it, you think, that's what she wanted then.
Your body still has sporadic chills, but you feel like falling asleep, having lost track of how much time has passed with Misty talking to the walls about whoever the philosopher of the moment is. Your head feels heavy, you can barely keep your eyes open. It's good not to be alone when you're like this.
You're not sure whether or not you imagine the cold lips against your warm forehead when you sleep, but it counts as success for your little test. Five.
(You only wake up the next morning, feeling much better and more energetic, even without remembering a single word you said to Misty, just having fallen asleep on her lap for a while. The way she blushes and laughs after that, staring and following you around whenever she can, says that she remembers it very well. Coach Ben gives you a look full of sympathy when he sees her clinging to your arm, which you don't quite understand.)
The sixth time happens in the middle of the forest. It's windy, sun almost down, with Natalie walking beside you. It's the most peaceful moment you've had in your life in weeks, and it's also the moment you realize that maybe there's something wrong with you as much as the rest of the team.
Nat is talking, complaining about how Travis – the closest thing she'll have to a boyfriend in this place – is mad at her. He won't hunt or talk to her, much less touch her.
That's why you're following her, actually, the hunting part. You don't have much sense of your place in the group compared to the others, doing a little bit of everything when necessary, but Natalie seems to enjoy your company on these occasions, even if your aim with the rifle isn't as good as hers.
You spend so much time listening to her complain about mundane things like condoms and the flask of old booze she found in dead-mummified-guy's stuff that you feel the absurd urge to laugh. It's so strangely normal – except for the mummy part, but still.
Maybe that was what made you open your mouth after minutes of silence and broken snorts:
“So he can't get it up once and now he's mad at you? Damn Nat, if you need someone to make out that badly then I could help you with that.”
It comes out half as a mockery, half as truth, because that's what you do. Help people, fix things. But it's sarcastic, because it's just a stupid idea for Natalie to even consider.
Except she suddenly goes quiet and when you turn your head, she's looking at you. Eyes half-closed, mouth open, wanting.
When she kisses you, you're already waiting, longing for it, arms wrapping around you and pressing your body against the nearest tree. You think about how she was the only one who had the courage to chase your lips, to take what she really wanted.
The only thing you can feel is the weight of Nat's hands – cold, always so cold, even though winter is still a while away – on your hips, one sliding up your back to grasp the hair at the back of your neck, lips parting and tongue finding yours almost desperately and then you can't think about anything else but her. Natalie, who is much stronger than she looks and who also holds her own to stay sane in this place much better than anyone could imagine. Natalie, the bane of your existence and also your best friend. Natalie, who kisses like she hunts: with all the confidence her reputation demands.
If you close your eyes tightly and try hard, you can almost pretend you're at one of Lottie or Jeff's parties, listening to your friend complain about a stupid boyfriend, getting euphoric because she likes you better than the said stupid boyfriend.
And then she's pulling away, mouth swollen and hair completely messed up from where your hands had been placed. The moment ends and you come back to reality, picking up the rifle from where it was lying on the grass and looking around uncertainly. You guys didn't catch anything today. Food is running out.
You return to the cabin in complete silence.
(You don't see Natalie trying to talk to Travis after this, nor him with her, but you don't think she cares.)
You stopped counting after that, kisses and touches becoming a blur in your mind as the days pass and your worry increases. Whatever this is seems less important than what's happening at the moment: little food, few coats, winter approaching, a fucking baby coming.
However, it all comes back to them anyway, when you finally realize that you were right all along, that there really was something wrong with all of you and everything goes south quickly when someone decides to put mushrooms in the food.
It was an unspoken knowledge between you that the Yellowjackets would never be able to have a proper homecoming, so when the idea of a ​​doomcoming came up in the conversation, even as a bad joke, you were one of the first to agree to it. A bittersweet goodbye sounded better than nothing.
You just didn't expect everyone to end up on drugs and acting like they were in some kind of cult. What did you miss that got you all to this point?
There is someone howling in the forest. Someone, not an animal. Or maybe they really were animals, given the way they're all chasing you now.
Just a moment ago you were genuinely enjoying the night, dancing with Ravi to Lottie's humming music and drinking fermented punch for who knows how long, even with a small feeling of being watched sent shivers down your spine at times. Then there was no sign of Ravi or Travis – nor Coach Ben, but he escaped somewhere in the woods with Natalie's canteen in his hand the second Misty's back was turned – and things started to get... confusing after everyone helped themselves to some stew.
Now there's someone howling in the forest and your head is spinning, hurried footsteps sound behind you as you end up back in front of the cabin after running in circles, a rabbit cornered by an entire pack.
Leaves are stuck in your hair, the hem of your dress is torn and covered in dirt, and you're sure you scraped one of your knees while running. There are also a bunch of dilated pupils focused on you.
Shauna is the first to approach, which surprises you so much that it gives the others time to do the same, big, sad, hazy brown eyes seeming to see deep into your soul.
“Why do you keep running away from us?” she asks, a pout that you can't tell if it's fake or not formed on her face, sliding a hand gently up your arm to your waist pulling you close and keeping her grip tight.
Jackie has her head cocked to the side and a smile painted red rather than pale pink like the first. She looks a little more composed than you'd expect, standing next to Shauna and bouncing in her step expectantly.
That was all it took to realize that you couldn't pull away even if you wanted to, melting against the scalding skin as if you had no problem getting burned.
“I'm not. I just… I don’t know what’s going on.”
The words came out slow and slurred on your tongue as if you didn't know exactly what you were referring to.  This whole crazy night? Absolutely, but there are also so many other moments not recognized before.
You find yourself guided back to the cabin when you hear Lottie's voice in the background and Misty taking your hand to guide you. It all ends up there anyway.
You're unsure when you're placed in the pile of blankets and sheets on the floor, the lit fireplace warms the room like never before and there seem to be hands everywhere when Natalie enters your field of vision.
“I think you're a little too high right now, hun,” Nat scoffs, as if she's amused by your slowness.
You feel a laugh grow in your chest though you don't mean to, “You– you think so?”
“Yep,” she clicks her tongue, “The mushrooms hit hard.”
“Mushrooms!?” You let out a squeak of surprise when you're suddenly pulled back against someone's front, recognizing Taissa's nails scratching your back through your dress.
“'M sorry." Misty mutters disjointedly, tracing the lines of your palm like it's the most interesting thing in the world.
“What–”
You stop mid-sentence when you make a sound in the back of your throat as you feel Van's teeth graze the junction of your shoulder and neck, bright green eyes and a wolfish smile on her recently healed face. You knew right away who the hell was howling.
“Oh, come on,” Van echoes with the same provocation from the day in the lake, “Don't tell me you're afraid of It.”
“It?” Your breath hitches when a hand guides your head up and there she is.
Lottie Matthews looking down at you, an antler crown on her head that makes you slack-jawed and hazy looking, looking completely divine and you hesitate when you realize that the entire team has gathered around you, as if they were waiting for something. What the fuck is going on?
Lottie leans down to your level, face dangerously close to you, and you swallow hard when your eyes settle on her lips. She never kissed you, not like the others, something that always left a doubt in your head; an almost embarrassing curiosity to know what it would be like.
She meets your eyes with a malicious gleam, like she knows exactly what you're thinking and leans in a little more and just as you close your eyes to meet hers, hunger lips stray to your jaw.
“Lottie–” you squirm and the hands on your hips hold you tighter.
Nat silences you, running her fingers through your face provocatively while Lottie trails kisses down your neck, working her way down. Everything seems too stuffy, like you're melting at their touch.
“It's okay.” She reassures, cold, chapped lips finding your chest, teeth scraping the skin, “It wants us to, can't you feel It?”
You can't feel it, not really, you never understood this strange connection everyone seemed to feel with the wilderness that you didn't, but there are gentle hands caressing you, making you sink deeper and deeper and Lottie is finally kissing you, just like you wanted; lips stopping right over your heart, as if she wanted to devour it.
“Yeah." You say, “I feel it.”
You're sure the cabin is on fire, but you're the only one who's burning.
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woso-dreamzzz · 8 months
Text
Copy
Alessia Russo x Child!Reader
Summary: You want to be like your sister
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It was obvious to just about everybody that you were the happy little accident of the family. Your brothers and sister were so much older than you, with jobs of their own while you were just starting school.
No one liked to call you a mistake though it was certainly the word that went through everyone's mind when they saw you and Alessia standing next to each other.
It was the word that everyone in the England team was thinking of the moment Alessia showed up to camp with you by her side. You were settled easily on her hip as you aimlessly sucked your thumb, no matter how many times your sister pulled it from your mouth.
It wasn't exactly the plan that you would come with Lessi to camp but Mummy and Daddy had to go away and Luca and Gio were too busy to look after you so Lessi was the last choice.
Lessi's your absolute favourite. Mummy and Daddy say it's mean to have favourites but you don't really care. Gio and Luca can stick together because they're boys and you'll stay with Lessie because you're girls.
You want to be like Lessi when you're older and you want to do everything she does.
You didn't use to see Lessi a lot when she played for United but she plays for Arsenal now so you see her a bit more regularly. Lessi's your biggest idol and she doesn't smell bad like your brothers do so you like to be with her all the time.
"Alright," She says, smoothing down your hair," Do we want laces or velcro?"
You look at the two shoe options she's showing to you. You look between them, biting at your lip as you swing your feet back and forth.
"What're you wearin'?"
"Well, I've got laces."
"I want laces!"
Lessi laughs. "Of course you do." She slips the shoes onto your feet and double knots your laces because you're still a bit too little to do them by yourself. You're learning though because Lessi can tie her laces by herself so you're going to learn too.
Alessia's big and tall as she leads you by the hand down to the gym. You want to be big and tall like Lessi too someday and you lean easily into her side as you walk.
"Well, looks like the smallest member of the squad has arrived." Ella's the one speaking and you wave at her. Ella's Alessia's adult best friend so you need to be nice to her. You're Lessi's proper best friend though because she tells you that all the time but you still have to be nice to Ella because Lessi will get sad if you don't.
So, you smile and wave at Ella as Lessi sets you up at the machine she's about to use. It looks very big and complicated but Alessia knows what she's doing because she loads some weights onto it and starts pulling on a rope thing to lift it up and down.
You circle the machine suspiciously, looking at all angles as Lessi takes big, deep breaths as she pulls, releases and then pulls again.
You kind of want to try and you reach your hand up to grab onto it too.
Alessia smiles fondly at you but removes your hand. "Sorry, tesoro. You can't help me."
You frown at that. "Why?"
"Because I have to do this by myself."
"Why?"
"So I can get stronger."
"I can get stronger like you too!"
Alessia's still smiling at you. "You're only little, tesoro. Maybe when you're older."
You don't like that answer. If you wait too long then maybe Alessia won't like you anymore. You don't want her to not like you.
Your bottom lip wobbles and she sighs.
"Hey," She says," How about this? I left my bottle over there by Mary. It's pretty heavy and I need a strong girl to go and grab it for me."
You turn to look where she's pointing. It's one of those big bottles that holds a gallon or something and it's sitting on the floor by where Mary's working out.
"I'm a strong girl," You say and Lessi laughs.
"I know you are. Can you go and grab it for me?"
You nod. You make to run off to grab it before you backtrack so you can give Lessi a hug and a kiss.
You weave your way through the gym before scaring the socks off Mary when you suddenly just appear and start dragging Lessi's water bottle away with you.
"Jesus," She says, placing a hand on her chest," You need to stop popping up like that. You scared the hell out of me."
"Sorry," You say, straining as you drag the bottle with you.
"Do you need some help?"
"No!" You say quickly, puffing out your chest," I'm a strong girl like Lessi. I can do it myself."
"Alright then," Mary says," Off you go then."
You kind of think this is like what Lessi's doing on the machine. She's pulling on something with weight and now you're pulling on something with weight.
So, technically, you are copying Lessi. You like that. You're too little to use the machine but you're not too little to copy the exercises Lessie does.
She's beaming as you come back, dragging the bottle the whole length of the gym towards her. She rewards you with a kiss on the head and half a chocolate bar.
You get tired pretty quickly when Lessi sends you off to do other things that mimics what she's doing on the machines. You wish you were big enough like Lessi to use them but you think doing these little errands makes up for it.
It gets you very tired though and suddenly you can't copy Lessi anymore. You wish you could but you're very tired out so you just kind of sit down with her as she finally goes through some stretches.
You crawl between her legs and rest you head against her shoulder.
Lessi's hands come up to adjust you so you're settled nicely in her lap as she chatters away to Maya and Ella. She's managed to keep stretching around you and you just let yourself sag against.
"I think someone needs a nap," Maya says pointedly and, even though you're exhausted, you still hear her perfectly.
"No," You grumble to Lessi," No nap."
"I think it would help," Lessi says.
You shake your head. "No. Are you nappin'?"
"No."
"Then I'm not nappin'."
Lessi laughs at that before getting to her feet.
You whine when she pulls away from you, stumbling to crowd into her space again.
"Hey," She says," It's alright. I'm just stretching my legs a little."
"Stretching too," You reply softly even though you're swaying a little bit because you're sleepy.
"Come on." Lessie leans down to pick you up and you go limp in her arms. "How about that nap now?"
You shake your head and take a firm grip of her shirt. "Nap if you nap."
"Well," She says," I guess we can nap together today."
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dorkszn · 22 days
Text
logan + dilf reader | pt. 2
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1k words, alcohol, just a little make out scene, mentions of marie, not proofread
You let out a tired sigh as you walk into the common room of the X-Mansion. The room is dim with nothing but a few yellow lights and the TV. Logan’s head perks up slightly at the sound of your soft footsteps, glancing over the couch to see who was coming.
He sees the sleepy expression on your face and the sleeves of your sweater pushed up to your elbows, showing off your forearms and hands that he never stops staring at. The smallest, taunting grin growing on his face. “Kid finally sleep?” Logan asks lowly, watching intently as you round the couch.
“Yep,” you say in relief as you drop down onto the couch, probably a little closer to Logan than normal but you hardly notice. “He doesn’t understand that curfew means the same thing as bedtime.” You huff, slouching against the couch cushion.
Your low eyes on the TV screen while Logan’s trail up and down your body and face. Over the way your legs sit spread in your jeans and the way your arm rests across the top of the couch. He just chuckles in response before reaching out and grabbing one of the unopened beers on the table.
He cracks it open and holds it out to you. “Thanks,” you mutter as you take it. You probably bring the bottle to your lips and tip your head back slightly a little too fast but you couldn’t care less right now. Logan’s eyes trained on your throat through the darkness as you drink, as if he was plotting on it. Like a lion ready to pounce on its prey, tearing its neck out first to end its suffering.
“The institute’s helped with his mutation but for some reason, it’s giving him more energy? Kids are weird as hell,” you explain, subconsciously playing with the neck of the bottle in your soft hand.
“Tell me about it,” Logan mumbles with an eye roll before taking a swig of his drink. Without thinking, he reaches out and gently pats your thigh with his hand. Your body reacts before you can even register what he did, tensing slightly before relaxing again. “You’ll be alright, Bub.”
You drag your eyes over to Logan’s, not quite sure what to say. He just looks back at you and takes another swig of his drink. His sharp gaze a mix between saying “yeah, I just did that” and “what’re you looking at me for? I didn’t do anything.”
“Yeah, I’ll be alright,” you opt for murmuring before turning back to the TV. You sit in almost silence for a few moments, just sipping at your drinks. Until you speak up again. “How’s Marie been?” You ask, sparing Logan the smallest glance.
“Good. Yeah, uh, she’s been good. Doin’ a lot around this place,” Logan answers as he sets his beer down on the table and leans back into the couch.
“Kid loves her, y’know? Always looking for her. Runs around calling her “big sis,”” you tell Logan with a small chuckle, a low, tired and slightly hoarse chuckle that hits Logan’s ears so perfectly.
“Yeah? She ain’t tell me nothing about that,” Logan says, just the tiniest bit offended that Marie didn’t tell him something like that.
“Really? That’s surprising. That’s your little girl, ain’t she?” You respond with a weary grin, watching his expression.
“No. Not my girl,” Logan snorts with a small shake of his head. Even though he knows he’s lying.
You look at him with mock-skepticism, eyes flicking him up and down. “Yeah, right, definitely not your girl,” you say sarcastically.
“If she is my girl and your boy calls her “big sis”, what does that make us?” Logan questions, staring at your features through the dim lighting of the room. The space feeling a little darker and heavier than before.
“I don’t know, what does that make us, Logan?” You respond as you take a quick sip of your beer, your body subconsciously leaning closer to his. Logan’s eyes almost instinctively flick down to your lips as they do often.
“Two tipsy fucks whose kids get along pretty damn well,” Logan mutters, his heart beginning to pick up speed slightly as he leans closer to you as well.
“And?” you ask.
“Two stressed out fucks who need some relief,” Logan adds. You let out a small laugh at that, mischief dancing in the sound.
“Damn right,” you hum before your free hand comes up and takes ahold of Logan’s jaw, pulling him to you before your tired mind can even rethink it. Logan tenses before immediately melting into your lips.
You can taste the alcohol and his old cigars on his lips. His large hand cupping under your leg and tugging you closer to him. Such a lazy and sloppy kiss but a kiss nonetheless. His hand gently squeezing your thigh through your jeans as his tongue swipes over and through your lips.
Logan is supposed to be a “bad guy.” You’re supposed to stay away from him. He’s supposed to taste like bad things but he doesn’t. Not when he’s hungrily exploring your mouth, not when you can taste the mix of bitter beer and your saliva stringing between tongues.
Your hand glides down from Logan’s jaw, over his neck and shoulder, your fingers slightly digging into his skin as they drag down his arm. A groan vibrating from his throat only to be swallowed up by your own mouth.
Logan nearly chases your lips without thinking as you pull away breathlessly. A thin string of glistening saliva between your lips. You just look into Logan’s low, hazy eyes for a moment as you catch your breath. Your hand instinctively shifting to gently rub his arm instead.
You glance down at the half empty beer bottle in your hand, the brown slightly illuminated by the TV light. “I should… I should go to bed,” you mutter to Logan, still not looking him in the eyes. His brows furrowing as he hears your words. You move to prepare to stand from the couch.
“Bub, wait,” Logan quickly reaches out, hooking his fingers into your belt loops and pulling you back down to him. You damn near land in his lap with a small grunt as he tugs you down. His grip on you loosens slightly as he looks you in the eye but he doesn’t let go.
“Just… let me take care of you.”
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annwrites · 3 months
Text
how the hell are we going to get through this, baby?
— pairing: gale cleven x wife!reader x john egan
— type: one-shot (for the moment being, at least)
— summary: you, gale, & john are in a polygamous marriage & you share one last dance with them before they're shipped off to war.
— word count: 2,251
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John takes a sip of his beer, then looks at you, or, rather, the back of your head. Your beautiful head of hair, soft and loose. He dreads the idea of tonight being the last time he'll ever touch it—you. His girl, his sweetheart, his wife, his goddamn everything since you were five-years-old, and he and Gale six.
He smiles when you throw your head back, laughing at whatever joke your friend, Marie, has just told you.
"How the hell are we supposed to leave her here all alone like this?" John asks.
Gale turns his head in your direction, leaning back against the bar, forearms braced on either side of him. "We don't have another choice."
John shakes his head. "She's going to fall apart when we leave. She won't be able to properly look after herself once we—"
Gale interrupts him, his head turning in his direction. "She's not some China doll, John."
"She's fragile. And too damn gentle. Since we were kids, there's barely been a day where she's had to live without us. The hell do you think she'll do if one of us—or even worse, both of us—come home to her in a casket?"
A muscle in Gale's jaw feathers, and he takes another drink of his beer. "It's why I married her, John. To make sure she got my pension incase—"
"Some monthly check isn't going to fucking hold her at night, or—"
Gale turns himself back around, not wanting the entire room to witness the argument that's about to erupt between the two of them.
One last good night, that's all he'd asked for. And yet, John's stubborn ass can never be bothered to just go along with things.
"What the hell would you have me do, Bucky?"
John turns back around to the bar as well, resting his forearms atop it. "We should've never enlisted."
Gale's long fuse suddenly grows a great deal shorter then. "It's not like it was some spur-of-the-moment decision. We talked about it, all three of us. We decided it was the right thing to do. She gave us her blessing."
John lets out a chuckle with no humor behind it. "Because you think she'd ever tell you no?"
Gale leans in toward him then. "The hell is that supposed to mean?"
"Everything she does is in hopes of pleasing you. And you have her wrapped right around your finger, don't you? That's why it's your ring that she's wearing." His tone has turned resentful.
"She's wearing yours, too. I'm sorry that polygamy isn't legal in the US. Why are you making everything my fault?"
He wasn't going to admit it out loud, but it hurt. His best friend, a man he shared a home, a life, a marriage, and a woman with treating him so lowly. And on their last night here—at home—at that. You were one half of him, John the other. But this disdain—believing you have a favorite between the two of them—wasn't a new development.
Finally, John sighs, softening. "I'm sorry. I'm just scared shitless. For both of us... For her."
They're both quiet for a moment, then John speaks again. "We should've tried to get her pregnant, and not stopped until she was."
Gale lets out a low swear. "You think that'd really help her? We get her pregnant so she can go through nine months of maternity all alone, neither of us there to hold her hand, or take care of her. And what if something happened? What if she miscarried, or—"
"Jesus Christ, why do you have to jump to the worst possible conclusion? She's too damn maternal not to be a mother, Gale."
"I'm not saying she isn't. But now isn't the right time. If you think losing one of us would tear her apart, losing a baby—our baby—would kill her."
John goes silent then. Before he glances back to you. "I just wanted to leave her with something. Some part of us to get her through this so she wouldn't be all alone."
Gale places his hand firmly on his best friend's shoulder. "She won't be alone. She has our folks."
He briefly wonders if this is really about leaving you with some part of them, or John leaving a piece of himself in the world if he doesn't live through this war.
He doesn't dare ask.
Finally, John stands, draining the last drops of his beer before walking over to his new bride.
Their bride.
You and Marie both look up at him as he comes to stand in front of you. "What's a guy got to do to get a pretty girl to dance with him around here, huh?"
You beam at him and it makes his heart jump.
"You just have to ask."
He pretends to balk. "That's it?"
You continue looking up at him, cheeks flushed, doe-eyes full of love and adoration.
He bends forward then, toward you, as he extends his right hand. "Well, then, miss, would you do the honor of giving this soldier one last dance?"
Marie sits by, watching with idle curiosity at your exchange.
You place your delicate hand in his own—your right one, which wears his ring—before standing.
John leads you over, into the middle of the room and spins you out before pulling you in close to him, until your chests are touching.
He places his right hand firmly against the small of your back as your left comes to rest upon his shoulder. He holds your other at chest-level as you begin to dance.
John presses his right cheek against your hair, closing his eyes for a moment. "How the hell are we going to get through this, baby?"
Tears sting your eyes, but you force it down. You won't cry. Not tonight. Not here, at least. You want this evening to be perfect.
You pull back far enough to look him in the eyes, running your fingers through his hair. "I wish I knew the answer."
You glance behind him, at Gale, who's watching you both with a small smile on his face.
You then continue. "This—all of it—both of you going off to war, having no idea how long that will be, what it will be like, all of us being apart for more than a couple of days for the first time in well over a decade... Not knowing...not knowing what the future holds..."
You trail off and have to take a moment to calm yourself before you turn into a shaking, sobbing mess.
John simply presses a firm kiss to your forehead, allowing you a moment to breathe.
Your eyes meet again and he picks up where you left off, looking down at you, his eyes full of surety. "We're going to get through this, sweetheart. We're going to get through this war, come back home to you, and then our lives together truly begin."
You desperately wish you had his optimism. In truth, you hope desperately that he's right, but more and more lately, you were doing your utmost to make yourself understand that their mutual survival...it may not come to pass. And that thought makes you feel sick.
If you lost both of them, you wouldn't bother trying to go on another day. They'd both made you swear and swear that you wouldn't even consider such a thing. And you had lied magnificently. Told each of them exactly what they wanted to hear. But you knew the truth of it in your heart.
John has his lips pressed to yours, kissing you long and deep, when a relaxed baritone voice interrupts you.
"Mind if I cut in?"
John finishes your kiss slowly, gently, before looking at Gale, who stands but a few inches from the two of you, hands in his pockets, looking at the two of you with so much love and warmth.
John chuckles, eye sparkling. "Trying to steal my girl, Cleven?"
Gale shrugs, a sly grin coming across his face. "Every chance I get, Egan."
John presses one last quick kiss to your hair, before stepping aside, whispering something into Gale's ear, which causes him to laugh out loud, then head back up to the bar.
Once Gale has taken John's place, you look up to him, an amused look on your face. "What was that about?"
Gale shakes his head, looking back at the man in question, a toothy grin on his face. "Nothin', darlin'."
He looks down at you, then.
"Was it about me?" You ask with a raised brow.
He chuckles. "Wouldn't you like to know."
You 'accidentally' step on one of his feet, causing him only to smirk down at you.
You bat your eyes at him. "Oops."
He gives a small nod of his head. "Starting to think that John's pickin' on you for all those years when we were kids is starting to rub off."
You grin, shaking your head.
He then leans in toward you to claim a kiss.
You try to sear the feeling of his lips against your into your memory. How slowly and passionately he kisses you, the taste of him, how he flicks the tip of his tongue against your lips, asking for entry, which you quickly give him.
When he pulls away, your cheeks are flushed and lips swollen. You lie your cheek against his chest and he rests his chin atop your head.
You still when you notice two officers at the front of the room, looking at the two of you, chatting with each other, shocked and confused looks on their faces.
You look up at Gale and he reaches down, brushing a loose strand from your face.
"Those men are staring at us."
He shrugs, not even bothering with asking 'whom', before he replies "let 'em watch".
"You might be serving alongside them."
He gives you another kiss. "And?"
You sigh. "You know your fellow soldiers are going to talk about their girls, then ask about yours. About John's. What're you going to tell them?"
He's looking at you with mild amusement, like you should somehow already know the answer. "The truth, I guess."
You're surprised by his answer.
The two of them seemed to stop caring a long time ago about what others do, or even might think about them. You still find it difficult to at times. You want to reach the same level of surety about your marriage—it still feels so strange to even think about it as that now—that they both have.
"Oh."
He cups your cheek in his palm. "The only two people whose opinions I care about are yours and John's. Nobody else gets to have one, not when it comes to us." He brushes the pad of his thumb along your lower lip. "Alright?"
You nod.
He kisses you once more before you lie your head back against his chest, this time facing in John's direction.
"Promise me you'll both take care of each other. That you won't let any stupid fights or squabbles get between you."
He replies almost instantly. "With our lives, honey. You know that. Won't be time for fighting each other when we'll have enemies on all sides that we'll be doing that with."
You nod. "Are you scared?"
He's silent for a moment, and that silence alone gives you your answer.
"Think I'd be stupid not to be. I know a lot of these boys are hoping to go off to Europe and become heroes, not wanting to acknowledge that they may not make it back in one piece, if at all. I'm just trying to keep my head out of the clouds and my expectations reasonable."
He begins rubbing one of his palms soothingly against your back.
"And John?"
"We haven't spoken much about it."
Because they're both scared, you think. They both put up such brave faces in front of you—for you—but you can read each of them like the back of your hand.
You suddenly feel a second body pressing itself against your back, strong arms wrapping around you, and your eyes flutter closed as you smile softly, happily, as the two of them hold you between them.
You will this night to last—both your husbands holding you, loving you, making you feel utterly safe and secure—because the thought of coming back home to an empty house tomorrow once they've both gone...
You squeeze your eyes more tightly shut, fighting back tears.
You're grateful they'll have each other, but who will you have to lean on? Who will hold you when you wake up in a cold sweat, crying and trembling as you fear the worst? Who will reassure you, as you sit on the front porch, or by the window, waiting for the post—for any word from them—that everything is okay? That they are?
What will you have left if, when they return home, it's with flags draped over coffins?
"I love you," John whispers, breaking you from fearful thoughts of the absolute worst.
Gale leans down, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "We both do."
You don't see as their eyes meet, John's jaw flexing as he attempts to conserve his tears for when you won't be witness to them and Gale giving him a reassuring nod, telling him that it's okay to feel whatever he's feeling.
"I love you, too. Both of you. Just...come back to me."
"We will," they both reply in unison.
You all three pray for it to be true.
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princessbrunette · 8 months
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i feel like pervy bsf jj would get a kick out of reader being a virgin :( like he’d make sexual jokes, knowing she doesn’t know what they mean sometimes. he’d be all “it’s okay, baby. you’re a virgin, you won’t understand.” or something :(
-` ♡ ´-ಇ.₊˚⊹♡
sharing a seat with him meaning he wants to have you on his lap, but he’ll settle for sitting behind you with his legs either side of you, letting you lean back casually against your best friends chest.
you’re used to him being loud and outright obnoxious, making jokes you don’t understand. sometimes, you get super shy about it — because yes, you don’t understand all the jokes. but he doesn’t have to point it out!
“actually, before i say what i wanna say imma cover your ears, lil lady.” jj smirks, large warm hands gently cupping your ears obstructing your hearing. you whine irritably, batting his hands away.
“jj, please. i can take it.” you turn around, giving him what you assume to be a very serious face — but really it’s the same old doe eyed gaze that makes him wanna fuck you. you watch the cogs turn in his head, smirk growing as the group predict his inappropriateness incoming.
“ooooooh…” john b is the only one almost as amused as jj, pope and kie simultaneously letting out an “oh boy.” and “guys stop.”
“now those are some words i have been waitin’ to hear you say, my sweet little mary.” jj jokes, giving your hips an affectionate squeeze.
you tilt your head, now you’re just confused. “who’s mary?”
“its slang. hes calling you a virgin, like a total degenerate.” pope sits forward in his chair to toss an empty can at him, somewhat coming to your defence. you shake your head, leaning back against the blonde.
“whatever, i don’t get it.” you hum, happily enough — and the conversation picks back up.
“you will get it.”
“hm?”
“hm?” he repeats, craning his head round to look at you with a friendly smile.
-` ♡ ´-ಇ.₊˚⊹♡
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Hi if requests are still open could I ask for nsfw headcanons for Erwin, Levi and Hange? Thanks so much in advance 😊🩵
Yaaaaay, veteran trio sure thing :)
Disclaimer: I use they/them pronouns for Hanji and since this request is NSFW in nature also AFAB language/terms will also be used for them. And Levi’s portion goes into the expected heavy shit about his childhood and Underground. ...Erwin’s I just... idk. Wrote with my dick I guess 🧍🏻‍♂️
Gender neutral reader (no pronouns used) with AFAB or AMAB anatomy depending on reader's choice since both options are lightly given. Hope that makes sense.
NSFW contents under the cut 😉
Erwin Smith
Dear Reader, I want you to look me directly in the eyes and try to tell me this man doesn't have a big dick - trick question you can't. The man is big all over. But he's very polite about it, not one to brag but it does bring a warm smile to his face to see your eyes practically pop out of your head the first time you're down on your knees, crouched down in front of the chair to his desk, mouth already watering as you quickly undo his belt and unzip him to be able to pull him out - only to go eyes owl wide when it nearly smacks you in the face. It takes a lot from him not to chuckle out when your hand goes to hesitantly wrap around it - only for you to flinch back when it twitches hello in your grasp, he finds it very cute actually.
Hairy chest. That's all. Actually no - hairy everything. It's great.
He is loud very loud - Erwin’s a loud man in general, kind of has to be when he's been in a military superior position for good portion of his life. But it didn't come up from that, no, Erwin’s always been loud when it comes to 'entertaining' lovers - even since he younger, if Erwin Smith is having sex everyone will know it, does not help he's a screamer (Nile and Mike have always teased him about it) but he sees no shame in it - just proof his lover(s) made him feel good and wears it like a badge of honor. And don't think he's alone in this, he will make damn well sure you're just as satisfied until your lungs go sore.
But if you are embarrassed of having people give you awkward looks afterwards, the solution is actually very simple: gag him. It could be with anything really; your underwear, your fingers, your hands around his thick neck, your hole/cock, get really creative with it :) And if you want yourself to not be heard, just tell him I'm sure he can think of some naughty ideas too.
Erwin has... complicated issues with relationships, both being Commander and focusing on attaining his dream he'd rather not be tied down to a serious relationship, but he has no issue with a friends with benefits type situation - stress relief. God does he need stress relief. However, if you are in a serious relationship with him then it's clear you're obviously very special to him - which also complicates things. For one I see him refusing to date a civilian so you have to be in the Survey Corps and fully understand what that means, to fully understand the 'delicate your hearts' oath and fully know damn well either of you could die at any time each time you step outside the Walls. Plus Erwin has a lot - and I mean a lot of enemies, you being someone someone so dear and close to him makes you a number one target and he knows that, he struggles with that, however it's a good motivator in a way; keeps him more focused and on guard, it makes him more careful, it makes him gather more and more blackmail on certain people if needed. That being said, the sex between you and him if you're dating - or hell married - is full blown romantic.
Don't get me wrong, he'll still blow your back out if you ask, but most of the times when you both find the time to sink to each other's touch it's with this air of gentleness Erwin has honestly never experienced with another partner, even Marie. You're... something special to him. Maybe it's because unlike past romantic interests - both men and women - you actually understand what's going on inside his head, you get how important his dreams are, you get his guilt, you actually know the... unspeakable wonder (beside all the titan killing fellow comrades thing) of what it's like outside the Walls. Freedom.
His kisses are so gentle yet grounded, he makes sure to kiss every inch of your body while muttering all sorts of praise and adoration with his lips pressed up against your skin so you can feel his words.
His big, thick fingers work open your hole/pump around your cock with steady rhythm as he takes you on his bed. He loves feeling your hands spring up and encourage his actions by messing up his normally perfect stylized hair and turning it into a complete blonde mess.
Loves hearing you, your voice sounds like absolute heaven to him if there is one and your voice crying out his name over and over and over and over and over again as he makes you come with nothing but his fingers/hand never fails to briefly send him there each time.
When he's inside you he can't help but feel overwhelmed, you're so warm and tight hugging your walls around him and if you're smaller than him he will never fail to tell you how seeing his cock not even able to completely enter all the way inside without the tip of his cock already pressed to deep that his head is rubbing at the deepest part it can go without you completely breaking entirely. If you're around the same size or maybe even a little bigger, then it's still the same, it brings a wide stupid grin on his face to look back as he has your legs tossed back and you're on your back you taking his prick all the way up to his base, balls resting comfortably against your ass. He feels ecstasy when he can start fucking deep into you.
When I said loud, I mean loud-loud. And if you're more than just an occasional fuck? Double that by like - twenty. He will vocalize each and every single thing he's feeling and is on his mind as he pounds into you. The headboard? Is banging against the wall so loud that Cadets two floors down in the Mess Hall can hear it and could mistake it for Wall Rose getting breached. It's an absolute miracle that shit hasn't split in two yet and especially with how one of Erwin’s hands clutches down onto it to keep himself grounded as he fucks you, moaning and groaning your name and all sorts of curses so loud that Levi’s viciously kicking the wall down the hall in his own office just as loud to tell you two to shut the fuck up but neither of you can hear it as you're so fucking lost in one another.
Call him Commander in bed. Do it. That twenty will turn into a hundred so fucking fast, not as fast as Erwin rearranges you to turn around - front facing the bedroom door - and straddling his hips with your back to him and your arms are held behind your back as he roughly bounces you on his lap. Everyone in this damn building and outside it will know what you're doing.
I mentioned his hairy chest? Yeah, well that adds a nice friction on your back and his chest is so plump you can lay back in them almost like pillows. Meaty, hairy, pillows. It's nice. They jiggle underneath you btw.
When he comes it's like a geyser going off inside you - literally. He'll fill you so full and your ears will practically ring from how loud he'll scream unless you quickly muffle his mouth up with your own or something, if not... well, everyone already knows what you've been doing at this point. If not? They certainly do now. But you try not to think about it, watching the flood of come pouring out of your when his cock slips out and staining both your and his thighs and the bedsheets.
Erwin acts practically drunk in the afterglow, his words are slurred and he has this wide toothy smile on his face you can't help but to kiss. This is the true stress relief. Here, his thoughts are the furthest from everything; the Walls, the titans, the Government, the Crown, the maybe-possible-if-his-father's-right people living outside the Walls... his dream... all of it. This is one few times he can completely distract himself away from all of it. He isn't Erwin Smith, Commander of the Survey Corps and accidental murder of his father - he's just... Erwin. And he's with you, just you - not Squad Leader (Name) (Surname). Just you, (Name). Nothing outside this very room matters, just laying in each other's arms and taking in the glow of being with one another. Knowing damn well you'll have to remember and face it all once you leave here.
But it's fine. He wouldn't be with you nor you would him if you didn't know that, if you didn't want to fight back against everything that be - if you didn't want Erwin’s dream to come true. And everyday, bit by bit you make further strides for that dream, together. You’ll reclaim Wall Maria, capture outside the Walls, beat the titans, learn the truth of what's to know about them. And see that thing mentioned in one of Erwin’s forbidden hidden books his father left... what was it again? Oh yeah, the sea. The ocean.
You two will see that together. You promised one another. No matter what.
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Levi Ackerman
Right off the bat it should be stated: Levi has a complicated relationship with sex - it should be obvious, given how he grew up. Where he grew up. What his mother did for a living, and... he very much grew up aware of what she did. It's not just sex either, relationships, dating as a whole he's... complicated with.
Two things: Levi doesn't do causal flings, he doesn't do causal relationships. If he's with you in the first place it's because he loves you. If he didn't he wouldn't be with you and it's that simple, he's doesn't vocalize it much - he has... issues with words, serious, emotion-y words - but if you're with him at all romantically in the first place you already know him fluently enough to understand that. He doesn't have to say "I love you," very often - you already know he does, and when he actually does voice it, it's always at the absolute most vulnerable positions he can be to show you how much he genuinely means it.
Trust is important to him. Very important. He loves you, he wouldn't be with you if he didn't as we already established that. Sex? Completely different ball park. If he wants to he sexually active with you it is beyond trust with him. It's beyond just trusting his own life in your hands, it's beyond letting you handle his old knives, it's beyond trusting you enough to tell you horror stories of how he grew up, it's beyond telling you just how close Farlan and Isabel were to him that they were practically siblings to him, it's beyond telling you about Kenny and how for the longest time and still sometimes that it fucks him up to think... he knew his mother - doesn't know how, the bastard always refused to ever tell him, and then just one day for no fucking reason just... walked out. Walked out without a word or anything. Left him to barely survive down there on his own until Farlan and Isabel. How for years... he was convinced the bastard might be his father. Because what else could he be? Visiting and knowing his dead mother by name - her actual name - and picking Levi up and saving him when he was on the brink of starvation, if Kenny hadn't arrived when he did then... he might've very well been dead by the next day. It's just... or it was hard to think up any other possible explanation but this MP killing bastard being his dad. But now, he isn't sure - nowadays doesn't really care to find out, hell the bastard could be rotting in a ditch for all he cares. He's never told another soul that - just you. Between you and him there's something deeper than trust.
Now, I know a lot of other headcanons tend to make Levi out to be this super dom sexy sex sex man or whatever, but no. He has no fucking experience whatsoever, until he made this connection with you he absolutely refused to - always thinking about that sunk look in his mother's eyes after dealt with clients and how she'd fake the warmth in them to hide the hurt when Levi would be let back in the room by one of her lady 'work friends' and she'd talk to him so lovingly and sweetly... until she got another knock on the door and he'd have to leave again. That sunken look in her eyes immediately returning and even as a kid he'd want to attack the bastards he knew was the cause of her hurt. And that's how he seen sex for the longest time, didn't fucking help with all the degenerates pigs Underground. He can count on both hands and toes and it still not be enough how how many fucking pigs he's had to gut for staring at Isabel the wrong gross way - a child. Still makes him sick. All these years later. So he's stayed away from it. Fought against it, even up against the absolute worst the Underground had to offer.
However, the longest he'd had bad associations with it, but... with you it's different. You're different, different than a lot of people and that's because of the beyond trust thing. He can be different around you - not the smartass, foul mouthed, titan killing machine people know him as now, he can be... vulnerable, alone with you - and he wants to be. He really does, he loves you afterall and... he wants to give himself to you, completely, because that's how special you are but...
It's stupid, he tells himself - he's a grown man, he's in his late twenties right now, acting and beating himself up in such a childish way over a natural thing. What's wrong with him? But it's you to calm him down, telling him you don't have to do anything and that you're content just the way things are between the two of you now. That you didn't need to go further - ever if he wished, that you love him no matter what. But the thing is... he wants to. There's just this - this mental block he can't seem to get across, no matter how hard he tried. Humanity's strongest? Or whatever it is they're calling him now? Scared of what? He scolds himself. Losing his virginity? The two of you share a bed together to sleep in - this shouldn't - shouldn't - shit. But... you look at him. The two of you sit together on the bed and you look up/down/straight forward at him (depending on your height) and he just... feels at ease, he remembers why he loves and beyond trusts you in the first place, that everything's fine, everything will be fine as he puts a hand to your cheek, rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip as he gives a steady nod and melts his lips with yours.
That being all said, yeah, Levi’s a virgin. He doesn't really have all that much idea of what he's doing, just goes by his gut and will rely on you to actively tell him what to do, what you want, and how you want it. But Levi - being the prodigy in every new skill he learns, doesn't take long for things to start clicking together in place. Half in hour and your virgin lover you'd think was actually a sex deity in human form - things just... click for him in that odd way it does for him learning new things (weird fucking Ackerman genes in work in real time, actually)
Insane head-game. Think he mouth I'd just good for crass insults and shit jokes? Nope, but honestly that should be expected. After the first few experimental pokes and licks around, enough to get a good idea of how to get you going, will his mouth latch onto and kiss, bite, and suck around the opening to your wet hole then stuck fucking his tongue deep inside and thrusting in all the sweet places/or mark fondle your balls with his mouth before working up your shaft kissing your head before absolutely deepthroating and going to town on you - no gag reflex, shocker. He loves the way you taste and can go on and on and make you come again, and again, and again, and again repeatedly until you loose your mind or voice. Or both.
Want to play with his insecurities? Not maliciously of course, but in universe I think Levi’s thought of as """"""""ugly"""""" and if that's the case you can imagine what types of disgusting shit people has called/said to him. He doesn't mind or care, especially these days as he's older but... call him handsome, or gorgeous and Levi’s a really pale guy, even if he's been above ground a couple years he's still wasn't born a 'sun-walker' so when he blushes it practically dyes his entire face and goes all the way up to his ears. It's cute. Even more cute when he growls, frowns, and scowls as he tries to hide it and distract you by suddenly entering you - which breaks the facade almost immediately as he goes wide eyed and nearly out of breath as he feels you around him. You overwhelm him, he burries himself in your neck not to let himself bottom out. His chest rocks with each breath and he's quick to litter your neck and collar in bites.
Hope you like it here, virgin or not with that Ackerman stamina you're going to be here awhile as he absolutely rocks your world. For hours and hours on end until the both of you are drenched in sweat and the wall has a crack in it from the bed moving.
Very quiet - nearly silent actually except for the occasional gritted curse and heavy breathing. But the longer you go on the more comfortable he actually gets making noise; moans, grunts, and punched out intakes of your name.
He'll fuck you until your legs go numb, wrapped around his hips and encouraging every thrust he gives you and you'll come over and over until you're light headed, bit with him there seems to be no end in sight as he onyx colored hair swoops down and dances with each and every single one of his movements as he looks down almost dazed at you.
Tell him out loud you love him and he'll come on spot.
Silvery grays practically roll back inside of his head when he hits his release and he'll be louder than anything he's been all night before finally his body gives out and collapses on top of you. Wide pleased smile on his face that's for no one inside these entire damn Walls or below ground to see - accept for you. It's only for you. This all is only for you.
After falling unconscious for about forty seconds Levi wakes back up with his normal expected demeanor, this time he just lies there in your arms and presses himself lazily in your neck. When he speaks it's slightly muffled, but it's fine. You ask him if he had a good time - which he tells you is a stupid question and should be obvious, getting a light laugh out of you as you go to comb through his sweaty hair.
He makes it very clear later that this isn't a regular thing, a once maybe a month type thing until... he gets a better understanding with it. "Shit takes time, you know." And you agree, telling him to take all the time he needs which he just lies there for another lingering moments before pushing himself up and pushing his lips to your own.
A bath sounds good now.
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Hanji Zoë
Doesn't really have that much experience, WAY too invested in their work to really have had the time. But! That doesn't mean they're not ready and willing to learn - very opposite in fact, honestly. They are absolutely over the MOON when you come out and say you want to fuck them! They get so excited that they rush off into whatever direction of the nearest library to learn and come up with ideas of what to do with you that they sort of leave you there behind in dust 😅 but not to worry, Moblit's there (somewhat very embarrassed to walk in on this exchange) but he promises you that your Squad Leader means well they're just... you know, eccentric.
Books on sexuality and other ""taboo"" stuff of that nature are looked down upon in the higher society of the Walls, but they're not that hard to find if you know where to look, and luckily Hanji knows where a bunch of them are - in fact they know a lot of libraries have them in a 'secret' section - but pulling a few strings and hinting at knowing about a married librarian's affair with a nurse down the street Hanji is able to gather a bunch of books to bring back to Headquarters! They spend all next and the next few days looking over them, reading them cover to cover - only having to explain to Nanaba once who came to visit their office and curiously had picked up one, only to immediately set it back down when seeing the one of the crude sexual diagrams drawn inside before immediately excusing herself.
So, with all this learning and newly attained precious knowledge and a bit of self discovery, turns out Hanji Zoë is a kinky mother fucker. They excitedly jot down all sorts of things that catch their interest, said list turns several pages long that when shown and told about your eyes nearly bug out of your head. Your face turns scorched hot as you tell your lover that maybe best for now just to... narrow it down to three things, then the both of you could talk and work up to it.
And that's where it stays for a couple of weeks, nothing really happens and things go on as normal, until one day when you're at the Superiors table in the Mess Hall as Erwin draws on and on about Banquet plans - AKA 'entertaining' and kissing ass to the nobles and the Brass to beg for funding for the next expedition outside Wall Maria - to you, Levi, Nanaba, and Mike, until suddenly Hanji comes springing down the hall and grabs your arm and pulls you completely off the bench seat to where you fall on your ass.
"Sorry-important-titan-research-matters-need-to-borrow-(Name)-bye!" And they drag you off, your ass still on the floor. Leaving everyone else at that table speechless.
You're about to scold your lover the moment you get inside the door, now at your feet, and your just about to until Hanji pushes you back against the wood in a feverish kiss that leaves you breathless. When they pull away they have a wide shit eating grin on their face. Okay. You're much calmer now. You let yourself be dragged across the small office and shoved onto the bed tucked in the corner - Hanji gives you a wink and excitedly goes for a couple boxes at their desk, handing them to you for you to open.
Rope. A... harness looking thing that looks like... underwear? With an odd hoop in the middle. And... a large phallic shaped object that makes your eyes go shot wide. Okay, you tell yourself. This must be their three.
"Two actually," They correct you without you even having to say it out loud. "-this is three." Without much effort they start pulling off their uniform to reveal the pretty white laced lingerie they have on that makes you go entirely speechless. They push their glasses up further on their nose with a head tilt. "You like?" You nod without even feeling yourself do so. "Good." You... didn't know to whether be scared or aroused at that glint in their eyes.
You're naked and tied up from post to post with the red velvety rope as your lover straddles you and map out every part of your body with their hands, committing each bump, scar, and curve to memory. Hanji looks at you with this inquisitive look in their eyes - the same look they get during one of their experiments but yet, it's almost different than that, or is it? They touch you and look back up to your face for a reaction, they like watching you squirm but not be able to do anything with your limbs tied and can only whimper and moan for them, they like that very much actually. You can't touch them either, as they straddle you your hips do buck into them - getting a gasp out of them but with their hands suddenly around your neck they scold you with a pointed wagging finger. "Bad, naughty."
Their hips starts grounding into you as they begin touching themselves with only you helpless to watch their hand disappear down lace panties and start working themselves over, making sure to make plenty of noises you can hear until suddenly their slick hand is shoved into your mouth and you're ordered to suck, which you do until they're roughly yanked out be replaced but their breathless kiss instead - tasting their own arousal off you. Then they get an idea.
With a wide smile off their face do they maneuver around the bed to where they're above you and moves the panties aside for you to eat at them as they sit on your face. They hum and moan out all sorts of praises as they let you know how good of a job your doing eating out their pussy like it was your last meal, and since Hanji wants to be the dominant party here, they're not afraid to order you around a bit - reminding you that they are your Squad Leader and you should address them as so. So get ready to add "Yes, Squad Leader," to each and every you say tonight :)
For being so good, they give you a reward: while you continue to eat them out, they'll bend slightly over, spread you legs slightly apart to comfortly position themselves to eat out your hole/or gag around your cock, all nice and good for their beloved favorite squad member until you both come at least a couple times each, and if you're to type to get overstimulated, they'll reassure how well you're doing and tell you in the softest voice they can: "One more, just one more." until you come again.
Once you're done with that and Hanji wobbles off the bed, legs shaking, as they go to gather the harness and dick shaped object off the floor. They slip off the lingerie panties and stuff them in your mouth with a; "Hold these, please." As your lover then boucy legs each of their legs through the leg-holes and carefully latches each strap - only pausing when they look over and realized they forgot the dick. Oopsie. Fix that.
With it finally on they kneel back on top the bed, untying yours legs and arms and rubbing each appendage carefully, muttering to ask if you're okay in your ear - you nod. Now, it doesn't matter to Hanji how big or small you are. You are going on their lap - no matter how maybe ridiculous you maybe might look, you are straddled their hips at your sex is rubbed against their fake dick. But of course, you're not getting it first without begging for it, or beg for it enough for your lover's liking.
When it's in and your hips are encouraged by Hanji's hands at your hips to start bouncing on it, at your own pace at the start, until a sudden slap to your ass encourages you go faster and you make a noise - muffled by the panties still in your mouth - to your lover's shit eating grinned delight as they start thrusting their hips to meet the back or your thighs in wet snaps.
Hanji absolutely loves having their chest marked up, after ripping the underwear from out of your mouth they'll hold your head to bite at their breasts that gets them to toss their head back in a satisfied hum.
Eventually, will push you to your back and start pounding away at you in their own pace, committing every sound you make to memory and drinking in every call of their name like they were on the brink of dehydration and bit by bit more they push you to the absolute edge - until you nearly scream out your climax, for it to be quickly smoothed by their lips and a tight fist wadded in your hair.
Both of you are jelly boned by the time your finished, completely naked now up in each other's arms and honestly half asleep. That is until you chuckle, nuzzling your face in the crook of your love's neck. "I think that might've been just a tad more than three things," you tell them, which they shrug. "What can I say? I got creative in the moment, you know - there's a ton of things in those books! Maybe some stuff you'll like-" You wave it off with a yawn.
"Maybe later. Nap time now," You can't help the amused smile. "-Squad Leader."
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