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scandalouslamb · 6 months
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Felix Ravinstill's Death + Hole Theory
—The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes (2023)
Gifmaker's Notes:
Fonts: Breathing. Avenir Light. (font pairing recs from this post)
I decided to go through the hole theory tag again and was hit with a vision. I think metatextually the fact that Felix is barely a canon character kind of makes this about more than just his death for me. (He is a hole in the narrative. Honestly, a lot of the mentor characters are like that.)
Anyway, I am making the most of Felix's limited screentime by taking advantage of shots of other people to make a Felix centric set.
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dimiclaudeblaigan · 1 year
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Have officially begun the process of moving all my content onto the new blog bc my faith in support to actually fix the issue does not actually exist.
If it gets fixed I'll keep using this blog like I've been and just consider the other one a backup. Otherwise I won't be deleted this blog, but I won't be using it regularly (if I continue to), and not for posts meant to go into tags.
I'm not following people yet bc I'm still in the process of moving posts, which means mass reblogging, which means 200 posts straight per day until I'm caught up.
#DCB Comments#a couple of y'all followed me anywhere when I was doing a test run for smth tho LOL#you two are gonna get swamped until I catch up sjhkfgsj#and I mean y'all are free to follow the new blog. just. like. you're gonna get buried in the reblogs for now lol#I'll still post my DCB runs stuff for now since that was always just a personal tag#but big kid meta/discussion posts will be on the new blog bc apparently I'm also not showing up in people's notifications#when I reblog stuff/reply to it. no point in trying to have a conversation when my blog is like#80 percent shadowbanned. :') I can still send/receive messages but#that's basically the last functionality left that I seem to have for ppl who get shadowbanned#which apparently usually happens bc of logging into the blog on a VPN and it blacks you automatically for that#unfortunately my Opera browser has a built in VPN that is usually on#and while I don't usually use Opera sometimes I have to bc my comp physically cannot handle#going onto people's (user).tumblr.com versions of their blogs on Chrome#it will literally freeze the computer for at least a solid ten to twenty mins and then either the page will crash#or the entire browser will crash. started to happen kiiiind of recently? but yeah. sometimes I just#have to check actual blog pages on other browsers and I've had to use Opera for that before#so my VPN would've been on and... yeah. can p much guarantee that's what got my shadowbanned#apparently staff can take up to several weeks to even respond/resolve the issue so I ain't waiting#at least not to move my stuff bc I'd rather it just be done and over with if I end up using the blog#instead of having to do it all once I'm actually ready to use the blog#most of the stuff I'm reblogging rn is the oldest stuff from the sideblog lol#like back when I moved things from there to here. it's easier to do now since I'm just clicking my previous tags but#I'm still gonna hit a daily dead end unfortunately so may as well get started now
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skzdust · 30 days
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Ruin Me, Big Boy ;)
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This is smut. MINORS DNI.
This fic was a request from @piratejoongie ! Thank you for the ask it very much inspired me ;)
Summary: You hook up with Mingi off Tinder one night.
Pairing: Mingi x reader
Includes: "good girl", "cocksucker", cock sucking, unprotected vaginal sex (USE CONDOMS PLEASE), tinder hookup but I've never done a tinder hookup so idk how they work irl but this is how I imagine it, PLEASEEEEE be safe with Tinder hookups though guys, Horny gay Wooyoung, Bestie Felix and Changbin, very background Chanlix
Word count: 1.4k
Taglist: @weirdowithaphone @caught-in-the-afterglow @palindrome969 @skzstan12345 @katsukis1wife @hyunjinsjeans @somethingkindazainy @silverstarburst
Network: @mirohs-aurora-society
Reblogs, likes, comments all appreciated!!
Masterlist
-----
“No.” You swiped left. “No.” Again. “No.” Again.
“God, when does this game get good?” Felix took a swig from his beer, leaning over the arm of the couch. 
“Yeah, I like playing tinder as much as the next guy, but come onnnnn, these men are lame as hell.” Wooyoung rolled his eyes. 
“Literally get interesting.” Changbin closed his eyes as he nodded in agreement. 
As if on cue, Mingi (25) popped up on the TV your phone was cast to, all dark hair and sharp jawline… and that smirk!
Your own jaw dropped. “Guys, I think I just fell in love.”
“I think I just got hard!” Wooyoung yelled. “Jesus Christ, look at that man!” 
“He’s mine!” You yelled back. “My tinder, my man! Claimed!” 
“Fuck!” Wooyoung collapsed back against the couch as you swiped right. 
The room erupted in screeches as hearts filled the screen, indicating you’d matched. 
“Message him, message him!” The voice was so high with excitement it wasn’t immediately recognizable as that of any of your friends, but you hit the ‘message’ button and stared at the text bubble for a second. 
“What do I even say to someone that fucking hot?”
“Here. Gimme.” Wooyoung wiggled his fingers, and you handed over your phone. Your eyes widened as you watched him type on the screen. “There.” 
You: Ruin me, big boy ;)
“God.” You laughed. “You’re gonna scare him off.”
“No, I’m not, we workshopped your profile forever. You look hot as hell. You’re gonna be thanking me.” You watched as he swiped into Mingi’s profile. “See, he’s looking for short-term fun.”
“Short-term fun.” Felix hummed. “I know that means hookups, but I kinda hope he sticks around. Just because he’s nice to look at.”
“He hasn’t even—” You started, but Wooyoung cut you off with a squeal. 
“He responded!” 
“Give me my phone!” You snatched it from his hand.
Mingi: I can do that, baby ;)
Your stomach leapt.
“Get his location right fucking now.” Wooyoung ordered. 
You began typing something out.
You: Time and place and I’ll be there
Changbin giggled. “Y/n’s getting some!” 
“Hell yeah, y/n’s getting some!” You took a sip of your cocktail as you went back to his pictures. “How do people even look like this? He’s so hot.”
Mingi: An hour and a half work? Here’s the address.
You looked up the address as soon as he sent it. It was a nice apartment building downtown. Felix’s boyfriend Chan actually lived there. 
“I’ll tell Chan you’ll be over there in an hour and a half.” Felix had a twinkle in his eye as he whipped out his phone. “If Mingi’s a dick, or a creep, you can go to his place.”
You nodded. “Sounds good.”
You: I’ll see you in an hour and a half <3
You went upstairs to get ready, showering quickly and changing into a matching underwear set and a cute but casual outfit. 
Wooyoung clapped as you walked down the stairs. “Beautiful, y/n. Tell me how he is. And if he’s into men. And if he might possibly be into me.”
“He’s hooking up with her, Woo. Not you.” Changbin said bluntly.
“Maybe he’s bi!” 
Felix ignored them, smiling at you. “Have fun and be safe, y/n, make sure your location’s on.”
You checked your phone to make sure you were sharing your location with Felix. “All set! Bye!” 
You made your way downtown, parking and walking the rest of the way. You texted him when you got to the lobby and leaned against a pillar.
You almost weren’t expecting Mingi to be real, but he walked out of the elevator with the gait and confidence of a supermodel. He was dressed in all black, he was tall, and in person that smirk had the cockiness of someone who could back it up, no matter what was required to do that.
Your pussy throbbed as he looked at you, his smirk growing. 
“Y/n…” He crossed the lobby, eyes looking you up and down. “You look even better than your pictures.”
“You’re pretty fucking hot yourself.” You managed to get out.
He laughed softly. “Oh, am I? A pretty girl like you telling me that is gonna inflate my ego.”
“Lucky for you, I like a man with a god complex.”
“God complex, huh? I think that can be arranged.” 
“Oh, can it?” You raised your eyebrows. 
“You’re gonna be worshipping me.” He winked. 
“I’d love to worship you.” You whispered back.
“Then come upstairs.”
As soon as you made it into his apartment, Mingi pushed you against the wall, trapping you in with one hand and kissing you hard. His lips were demanding, and his tongue licked into your mouth. You moaned, your head already growing dizzy from the kiss. 
“Good girl.” He hummed. 
“Mingi…” You whined.
He pulled away. “What do you want to do tonight?” 
You thought for a second. “I wanna suck your cock.”
He leaned in by your ear. “Can I call you a good little cocksucker?”
It felt like he’d lit you on fire. “Yes, please call me your good little cocksucker.”
“Then on your knees.”
You sank to the floor, unzipping his pants.
He pushed them and his boxers down, and his cock sprang free, already red and hard and big.
You reached around it, pumping the shaft a few times. “Fuck.” You whispered. You could barely wait to get it inside you.
“What, I thought you wanted to worship me.” He smirked. 
In response to that, you opened your jaw and pushed yourself down on his cock.
He groaned, his hand finding your hair and balling into a fist. “Fuck, such a good cocksucker. So good for me.”
You focused on the feeling of him in your mouth, the heat of his skin. He was easily the biggest guy you’d been with, but you didn’t let that intimidate you, pushing yourself further and further down on his cock. 
His grip on your hair tightened, and he gently began to rock his hips back and forth, gently fucking your face. “Good girl. Good fucking girl. Taking me so well, sucking my cock like you were made for it.”
You moaned around him, fighting to keep your jaw relaxed. 
His hips picked up the pace, quickly but gently fucking into your mouth. “Good girl, good girl, good— ngh!” He pulled out of your mouth to cum on your face, groaning as he stroked himself. As cum painted your features, you thought you’d never seen someone so hot. 
“You want me to fuck you now? Properly, not your mouth.” He panted.
“Yes.” You moaned. “Yes, Mingi, please.”
“Okay, my good girl. Lets’ go to my bedroom.”
You got up, following him into the bedroom. It was tidy, with grey sheets on the bed and an attached bathroom.
“Clothes off, and on the bed.” Mingi ordered. You hurried to obey, spreading yourself out on the bed for him.
“Fuck.” He said as he took off his own pants, his eyes raking over your form.
“Fuck me.” You whimpered. 
“Don’t worry, my good girl, I will.” He left his shirt on as he crawled over you on the bed. “I’ll fuck you within an inch of your life, if you’ll let me.”
“Please, Mingi, please fuck me within an inch of my life.”
“Fuck, begging?” He kissed you, hard. “You’re so fucking hot, y/n.”
He lined himself up with your entrance and began to push inside. You moaned as his tip stretched you.
“Perfect little— ngh, fuck.” Mingi pushed in further, his voice growing strained. 
You couldn’t say anything your mouth forming a little ‘o’ as you burned in pleasure. 
He seated himself fully inside you, and you stayed like that for a moment, with Mingi deep inside you, connected. 
And then he started moving, and you thought you might cum on the spot. He was big, but he felt even bigger inside you, especially as he started fucking you in earnest, pushing in and out with a fervor.
You moaned, clutching at the sheets. “Fuck, fuck, Mingi, ah, God…”
“Feel so good, my good girl, so tight around me, such a good little hole for me.” He grunted. “We gotta do this again, because God I love fucking you.” He caressed your cheek. “Takin’ my cock so well.”
“Yeah, anytime you want.” You breathed, meaning it.
“Anytime I want, huh?” He pushed into you in a hard thrust. “I’m gonna take you up on that, my good girl.”
“Please do.” You whined. “Your good girl.”
“I’m gonna ruin you for anyone else.” He whispered. “Ruin me, big boy, that’s what you said, right? I’m gonna fucking ruin you.”
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getosbigballsack · 7 months
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Random thought!
But just imagine 35 years old CEO Gojo Satoru falling in love with the young woman whom he hired to be his surrogate.
Desperate at this point to fulfill his role as CEO and the heir of his family clan, he knew he had no other choice but to find someone who would be willing to give birth to his child.
He thought his ex-wife was the one. After all, she was pregnant when they were still together. When the due date came around and Satoru heard that she gave birth to a healthy baby boy, he was over the moon until he saw the baby for himself.
He knew that that wasn't his baby. Blonde hair and green eyes? No one in his family had blonde hair and green eyes. So he asked for a DNA test. His ex-wife refused at first, but then she gave in, and when the test came back, the baby was 99.99%, not his child.
He was broken. He served her divorce papers the following day, and after everything he had done for her, this is how she chose to repay him. As if cheating wasn't enough, she had to get pregnant and gave birth to another man’s child.
So now here he is sitting in a cafe waiting for the surrogate.
...
You didn't have much of a choice. 26 years of age and still struggling to get your bachelor's degree just so that you could live a comfortable life and be financially stable.
But with the way things are right now, you knew that it was an impossible task to complete your final year. You could hardly manage to pay your school fee. You kept on getting rejection letters from student loans, and let's face it, you barely had time to study to even try to get a scholarship.
So now you're stuck looking for a quick and easy way to make money. You had little options, and prostitution just so happened to be one of them. And you almost turned to it, that's until you heard that a "rich" CEO was looking for a woman who was willing to give birth to his heir.
So now that's how you ended up in the situation to you're in currently. Nervously playing with your fingers as sat across from no other than Gojo Satoru.
"Your name is Y/N?"
"Yes, and you're Mr. Gojo Satoru."
He shook his head yes while taking a sip of his coffee. "I hope you don't mind meeting like this. I thought it would be better to meet in a more casual setting instead of my office. I don't want to intimidate you."
"That's fine, Mr. Gojo."
"Before we get started, are you sure you want to do this? I want you to be absolutely sure because once you sign the contract, there is no backing out of it."
You shook your head yes before responding, "it's something that I've thought about deeply, Mr. Gojo, and after reading through the contract a few times, I came to the conclusion that I would rather have a baby for a stranger who is willing pay to me more than what my school fee is worth than go and become a prostitute."
He was shocked by your words but said nothing of it. It wasn't his place to say anything or have any comment about your personal life.
"Well then, I guess we can go ahead and meet with our lawyers and sign the contract."
"Lawyers? I thought... I can't afford a lawyer right now," you said to him.
He chuckled, "I figured that that would be the case. No worries, I had already hired a lawyer for you."
"You did?" You asked. Just then, the door to the cafe burst opened, and in came a man and a woman dressed in suits.
"Ah, there they are. Right on time."
Gojo stood up and greeted the lawyers before he introduced you to them. The man, Mr. Nanami Kento is his lawyer, and the woman Tetsu Akari is your lawyer. First impression she has a kind and calm aura around her.
But let's move down the line.
You four all sat and discussed what was on the contract, and before you signed it, Gojo asked, "Is there anything that you need to clarify before signing the contract."
"Yes, uhm, it's about the procedure. Are we going to uhm... have... uhm intercourse to conceive the baby?"
"We could since it's the safe way to go about this, but no," he answered with a small smile on his face.
"Ok then, where do I sign."
This is the beginning of how Gojo Satoru fell in love with the woman he hired to be his surrogate.
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livinginshambles · 1 year
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I want to be loved first | James Potter
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Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 4.0k
Summary: Established relationship and angst: James still loves Lily, it's clear to you. You try to ignore the way your heart aches when you always seem to be second on his mind, knowing you will never compare to her and unsure how much more you can take.
Notes: Its happy ending again, sorry guys. I'd say no beta, we die like fred, but that feels too soon so anyway, spelling and grammar mistakes probably.
Masterlist
____________________________
People have often told you that you need to toughen up and grow a spine. That your lack of backbone had everyone trample on you like you were a crosswalk, and you could definitely say that they were right.
Perhaps that's why you were crying in the middle of the night because of James Potter. He was laying behind you, pressed against your back with an arm draped over you. His face was hidden in the back of your neck, breathing steadily against it as he slept peacefully, unaware of the heartache he was causing you when he whispered Lily's name. Again.
When he'd done it the first time, your blood had run cold, goosebumps showing up and littering your bare arms. Tears had prickled in your eyes at his barely audible, mumbled confession. "Love you so much Lily."
You had turned around to face him and your rustling had woken him up. Eyes still closed, he'd groggily shifted and pulled you against his chest. “Everything alright, love?”
“Yeah, just a nightmare,” you had responded in a small voice. Your answer had him finally open his eyes, somewhat concerned. He had lifted his arm to yawn against it and then settled it back on top of you in such a way that his hand had easy access to your nape, drawing circles in an attempt to calm you.
“I've got you, love. Nothing can hurt you, as long as I'm here,” he had assured you.
Ironic.
So now here you were lying down, your tears were freely rolling down your face and you were glad that the curtains of the bed were closed, leaving you in a private space, despite sleeping in the boy’s dormitory. It would be another sleepless night for you, it seemed.
When James stretched his arms to reach for you about four hours later, he frowned and sat up, confused at the lack of your presence. He pushed the red drapes aside and peeked into the room. Sirius was still asleep, face down. Peter was most likely curled up inside the pile of blankets on his bed and Remus was sitting up in bed, a book in his lap.
Even though it was the weekend, and you were anything but an early bird, you slipped out of bed in the early morning. You were sure that your eyes were red and puffy and didn’t want James to mention it.
He looked up when he heard James and raised his eyebrows in question when he noticed no one else behind him. “Have you seen Y/N?” James asked, sleep still heavily laced in his voice. Remus shook his head in thought. “No,” he whispered quietly, an eye on Sirius beside him. “I’ve been up since four in the morning though.”
James’ frown deepened. That meant that you had snuck out before that. But why? He got dressed impressively fast and descended the stairs to the common room. You were sitting at the tip of your chair, deeply engrossed into your transfiguration assignment, several books piled, some laying open, scattered across the small table.
You felt two arms securely wrap around you, almost melting in their designated position. “Morning,” James kissed your cheek.
You bit your lip, took a breath, and cast your hurt feelings aside. You turned your head and flashed him a smile. “Good morning, Jamie.” James took the opportunity of your head, tilted upwards at him, and dipped down to press his lips softly against yours, pecking you once, twice. “You’re up early,” he commented and nudged you. He slipped behind you, body fully relaxing into your back now.
“Couldn’t sleep,” you replied honestly and you leaned back into him. You laughed softly when you noticed his eyes drooping. “You’re tired, Jamie. Go back to sleep.” James made a sound but didn’t move, instead slouching even more against you.
“Hm, no, I missed you this morning. I’ll stay here,” he decided and drifted off to sleep. You didn’t doubt that he loved you.
“Go on a date with me next Friday,” James asked you while he was escorting you to your herbology class. You looked up at him surprised. “A date?” you dumbly repeated, trying not to be too excited about the prospect of a date. James usually ended up having things to do that he really couldn't get out of, so you would always end up canceling your dates.
James laughed and slung his arm around your shoulders. “Exactly. You and me alone. I was thinking of a picnic by the lake, no one else around, and maybe we could snog, but I’m also down to cuddle.” Your eyes crinkled up amusedly. “Don’t you have Quidditch, Jamie,” you raised your eyebrows. “You always have Quidditch practice after class,” you pointed out.
“Not next Friday. I already checked to make sure I didn't double book anything, and I warned Pads that I'm not taking on any new pranks until next week to avoid detention.” he grinned. “Friday will be one of those rare days when I have time to have my girl all to myself the entire afternoon.” His face then turned apologetic. “I know I don’t have much time to take you out, so Friday'll be perfect and I’ll make it up to you.” You threw your arms around his neck and hummed appreciatively in it. “I’d love that.”
James wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in for a kiss. “Prongs!” Sirius shouted from a distance. “Everyone is already waiting for you for Quidditch practice, how far are you going to escort her? I mean the greenhouse is on the other side of Hogwarts, mate,” Sirius complained but he blew you a dramatic kiss that James waved away with a sour look.
“Go on,” you laughed and untangled yourself from his arms. He quickly pressed a kiss to your lips and sprinted off towards the Quidditch field.
James dropped into the seat next to you. “Long time no see, love,” he said. You snorted. “James, I saw you two hours ago.” James shrugged, and flirtily smiled. “I said what I said.”
Professor McGonagall entered the classroom and class started. You were jotting down everything she said in a neat handwriting, knowing that James would end up asking to lend your notes, of course by offering kisses in return.
You glanced beside you and were surprised to find him hunched over his notebook, scribbling away. Impressed at the thought that he was actually paying attention, you couldn’t help but peer down at his notes and saw that he was sketching a girl.
Though he wasn’t the greatest artist, you could clearly see that the girl on the paper looked nothing like you, and instead had features that were strikingly similar to Lily. When James looked up from his drawing and glanced to his right where she was sitting, her eyes focused on Professor McGonagall, you felt your heart constrict again, but still decided not to comment on it. He was free to draw whoever he felt like drawing, you reminded yourself.
Jealousy is ugly.
You were sitting in the library, helping a third year with Defense against the dark arts theory, when James barged in, earning several disturbed looks and a threatening glare from the librarian.
“James?” you called to him quietly and motioned for him. James’ eyes spotted you and he slid over to you, wringing his hands together, biting his lips and his eyes darting around.
“You’re nervous,” You remarked while you eyed him up and down. “Or you feel bad. What is it?”
James let out a deep sigh at your bluntness, though he supposed it would be better to get straight to the point. “We can’t go on a date next week, I’ve got prefect stuff, gotta patrol.” You stared at him, your disappointment was visible on your face and James looked at the ground.
“But you already had patrol this week? Isn’t it every other week?” You asked, a bummed out look on your face.
“Well, actually, Lily asked me if I could do rounds with her next week,” he admitted. “Her usual assigned partner was injured during Quidditch practice apparently.”
“Oh.” You didn’t know what to say. You were pretty sure she could ask anyone else for next week or just do the rounds herself as you’ve seen James do it alone for two weeks too when his assigned partner had gone home for a family emergency.
“Is it really vital that you have to go?” You couldn’t help but ask.
"I already said yes." James offered an apologetic smile. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise. We can go on a date the week after.” There was a pause and then, “Actually that’ll probably have to wait for the week after that.”
'Imagine having to schedule a simple date, three to four weeks in advance and even then not being guaranteed that nothing would come in between,' you sighed.
You shrugged, a sudden wave of defeat and exhaustion crashing over you. Why did you have to compete for your boyfriend in the first place? 'How tiring', you realized.
You waved him away. “It can’t be helped, I guess,” you somewhat coldly told him, and turned back to the student next to you who was awkwardly looking away. James stood next to you in silence for a moment, still looking at you. You looked up at the lack of the sound of receding footsteps and looked at him questioningly, waving your hand in a ‘what is it?’ manner.
“I can tell her no,” James said, something that looked like a pout on his face. He hated making you feel bad, despite constantly but unconsciously doing it.
“You don’t want to tell her no,” you retorted.
"I would for you.”
“Well, considering that you haven’t told her no by now and are instead here telling me that we have to rearrange our plans, I think you should just go help Lily with rounds.”
James was taken aback by your bitter tone, eyes immediately wide, alarmed that you were really affected by his decision. “Love, I-“
You waved your hand again. “No, I’m sorry,” you apologized before he could. You rubbed your eyes in an exhausted manner. Jealousy was not a good look, you reminded yourself again. “Just really looked forward to that picnic with just you and me.”
“We’ll still have that picnic another time though,” James tried to assure you, but you were no longer looking at him. He realized that the conversation was over and that you wanted to be left alone right now.
“I love you,” James tried one last time and you sighed. " I love you more.” Your words resonated even after James left, knowing that they might be more true than you wanted to admit. You cleared your throat and when you faced the girl next to you, she shot you a sympathetic look.
The last drop was during Potions class. Potions was something you were good at. Maybe not better than Severus Snape, but you did excel in it.
So, if there was one class in which you expected James to want to be your partner, it was Potions class. Perhaps it was arrogant of you to assume such a thing, because when Professor Slughorn had announced that everyone would be paired up, and asked James who he wanted to partner up with, you hadn't expected him to glance at Lily first, which resulted in Professor Slughorn pairing the two together before James could say your name, which in his defense, was what he was planning on saying.
Without sparing you a glace, he left your table to take the seat next to Lily's. Sure, it was mostly a miscommunication issue on Slughorn's part, but did James have to skip over so happily?
“Love you so much, Lily.”
The words repeated in your head when you saw him look at her so fondly and before you could stop yourself, you scribbled a message on a piece of paper, in which you asked him to meet you in the tower, before sending it his way.
You had clung onto James because you were absolutely in love with him and refused to lose him. But it really was a futile battle, you would never compare to her. His first crush, first love, first kiss if you count that one time during ‘spin the bottle’ and his first heartbreak. You’ll always be second, even if he genuinely loves you.
James snapped his head up at you from his attempted conversation with Lily when he got your note, suddenly remembering you, but you were laughing, engrossed in a conversation with a flustered Peter who had almost set the two of you on fire by adding the wrong ingredient. When you left class, you saw James and Lily still talking while calmly packing up.
James entered the tower, holding the note that you had passed him during class. He was smiling cheekily and quickly skipped over, arms ready to wrap around your waist as he leaned in for a kiss, no doubt thinking you asked him to sneak away for a snog.
“We need to talk,” you stopped him, and his grin fell from his face, a serious expression now adorning it. “Everything alright love?” he asked, an odd feeling growing inside of him at your tone. He was suddenly rather unsure if he really wanted to.
'Nothing better than to rip the band aid off', you thought.
“I want to break up.”
There was a long moment of silence while James was registering your words, repeating them in his head over and over again to see if there was any chance that he could have interpreted that incorrectly.
“What?” He eventually said out loud in disbelief. Though he wanted to step forward, reach for you and hold you tightly as if to show that he wouldn’t let you go, his body was inwilling to move.
“Why are y-, I thought we were good?” The crack in his voice didn’t go unnoticed by you. Your heart ached for him, but you were determined to stay strong and say your piece for once. To voice your thoughts and go through with tough decisions that you knew would be for the better.
“We’re not, James,” you sighed. “I know that you know that.”
James shook his head in denial. “No, I don’t know that,” he insisted. His brain was racking through all the instances where he did something wrong and - with the exception of next Friday's date - came up blank.
“But you love me,” he stated, mostly to himself, but it came out more of a question. “Of course,” you confirmed without hesitation.
James’ body finally unfroze, and he surged forward, his hands fumbled to hold your hands. “And I love you,” he stressed, panic starting to rise up. “I love you so much, I’ll take a Veritaserum potion if you want. I just, why would you-, I don’t understand the problem-,”
“I know you love me, James. The problem is that I love you so much more,” you calmly interrupted him. James’ eyes scanned your face to look for answers because none of it maded sense to him.
“I want someone who loves me as much as I love him. Someone who gives me all his love, not just a part that he managed to set apart for me too. And I want to be loved first. Not second. I don't want to be a consolation prize because your first option didn't work out.”
James’ eyes flickered in realization, but his head was still shaking in denial. “I am that someone,” he urged, trying to convince you. He shot you a pleading look. “I love you first, I swear.” He pressed a kiss to the back of your hand, and you pulled it away from his grasp.
“Not first,” you shook your head sadly. “Not when you call for Lily in your sleep, and whisper that you love her.” You watch as James’ frown deepened, mixed expressions crossing his face in surprise, confusion and even bewilderment.
Would he not even admit it?
“Not when you have us rearrange our plans for her, when you draw portraits of her during class, or when you practically jump to be her potions partner. I'm not stupid, James. I see the way you look at her.” You continued to list off the things that happened just this past week, not even bothering to mention all the things that bothered you the past months. Your eyes looked sad and tired, and you took another deep breath. “So, I want to break up.”
James felt like crying, his mind thinking back to everything you said, and knowing that you were right. “I’m sorry,” he tried. “I’m an absolute twat, I know that. I promise you I don’t love Lily, she’s just still very important to me.” You offered him a sympathetic smile.
“I know she’s important to you, I just think that maybe you don’t know what or who you want. And I won’t share my boyfriend anymore, I’m selfish like that,” You joked halfheartedly. James didn’t react, save for wrapping his arms around you. You allowed James to embrace you and he buried his head in your hair, his eyes closed as if he wanted to go to sleep and forget this was happening.
“Okay,” James whispered. What else was he supposed to say?
You closed yours as well. James would get over you in no time, you were certain. You two hadn’t been dating for that long, and perhaps James could find a happy ending in Lily after all.
James had sort of avoided you after that. You thought he was doing it because he was angry, but in reality, he was just scared that he would burst into tears the moment he saw you, and he refused to watch you laugh happily, swatting your friend while he wanted nothing more than to hold your hand again.
His mind had completely become occupied by you and he stayed in bed over the weekend, mostly wallowing in self-pity and misery.
When Monday started, he had skipped all classes and only dragged himself out of bed for Quidditch practice and patrol with Lily. Walking next to her in silence, occasionally glancing at her, he felt his stomach sink again. How ironic that when he looked at Lily, all he could think about was you.
James walked through the corridor on Friday, on his way to the courtyard to meet up with Lily again to do rounds with her. He hadn’t been able to sleep peacefully without you. At first, he had been thinking about every instance where he prioritized Lily over you, and it had him curse himself out in his pillow. He missed you. It was so ridiculous, but he missed you to the point that he would curl up in bed with a stomach ache.
He had finally drifted off when at some point in the middle of the night, he had been shaken awake by Sirius.
“What?” James had asked, his throat dry and raspy. He’d looked around, disoriented.
“Thought you were having a nightmare Prongs. You kept mumbling her name. How much you loved her,” Sirius had handed James a glass of water.
James became wide awake and sat up straight in panic. “Lily?” He had asked Sirius, his stomach turning with nausea. He still couldn’t believe that he really talked about Lily in his sleep when you were lying next to him.
“What? No, Y/N’s name of course.” Sirius had corrected him. 'Of course,' James shook his head at Sirius’ words. “Figured you were reliving your breakup,” Sirius had explained.
James was looking through the passing windows of the castle where he could see the lake in the far distance. Suddenly something in his brain clicked. What in Godrick's name was he doing, avoiding you? Why was he giving up on you without a fight? You both loved each other; he was just the idiot who couldn’t sort himself out. But it didn’t take him longer than a terrible week to open his eyes.
James’ pace increased and he ran through the corridor. “No running in the corridors young man,” a portrait commented, but he paid it no mind.
Lily was already waiting for him and raised her eyebrows at his disheveled state and the basket that he was carrying. “I can’t do rounds with you today,” he puffed out. “I told Y/N that I would take her out for a picnic and then you asked me if I could help, and I agreed, but it’s so stupid because I should be-, I am choosing her,” James ranted. “I’m not letting you come first, or even second.”
Lily wasn’t really sure what James was rambling on about but gave him a kind smile, nonetheless. “Well, what are you waiting for,” she encouraged him. “Sounds to me like you shouldn’t be here, but somewhere else.”
“Yeah, I definitely should.”
You sat by the lake, skipping stones from a sitting position, not that you were having any luck. You hadn't seen James in a while because he avoided you, and you felt sadness wash over you. You were sure that he would get over you quick enough, but you wondered how long would it take for you to get over him?
You heard rustling behind you but kept facing forward. It was only when a delicious smell reached you, that you turned around, slightly annoyed that someone would really choose this spot to have an afternoon meal at when they could’ve sat literally anywhere else near the lake, as well as choose this moment when you wanted to act like a depressed main protagonist gazing in the distance.
You were, however, not prepared to see James stand behind you, out of breath and making his way over to you, a blanket and food spread out behind him. He didn’t really need to say anything. You understood from the way he showed up here, a hopeful expression on his face.
Your heart skipped a beat, and you got up, dusting yourself off.
"Hi," James breathed. An unsure smile formed on his face when you waved back. "I uh, I brought food." He awkwardly motioned to the picnic behind him and you couldn't help but smile at his adorableness.
“Shouldn’t you be somewhere else,” you couldn’t help but lightheartedly remark. James let out an airy chuckle, immediately relaxing at your open demeanor.
“100% sure I’m where I should be,” he affirmed. He considered his words and corrected himself. "Where I want to be."
His words had you take off in a sprint towards him and James opened his arms to catch you when you jumped, locking your legs around him. Ironically enough, it felt as if a weight had fallen off of James. His head fell against your shoulder and he shakily laughed while your blouse stained with tears of relief.
"I'm really sorry," he looked up at you, still holding you steadily. You leaned down to press your forehead against his, and your hands came up to his cheeks. "You made up your mind," you said, but it came out like a question, and James nodded hastily.
"And you'll make it up to me."
"Of course," he earnestly replied. "I want us. I'll fight for us." You closed the gap between the two of you.
“I love you,” he whispered breathlessly against your lips.
Not first or second, not more, most or less. He just loves you.
Taglist:
@elsie-bells @charlie-weasley-is-underrated @dreamingofmarauders @moonyslibrary98 @wildernessflora @hollandweather @queerqueenlynn @locklyebrainrot @thisrandombitch @grac3aph3lion @earfquak3 @venomsvl @shrekscrustybudassy @middle-of-the-earth @sirene-noir @bettytaylorversion @littlepoisonmushroom @faumpje @iloveutwice @katelebate @moonysupremacy01 @marina468 @fangirl-kimora @bellesowl @badasswlthafatass @sjprongs @armydrcamers @its-a-ittle-bit-cold @ireallywannasleep127 @sayukoi @jsjcue @cashtons-wife @idllyastuff @severegiantjudgefriend @ivy-34 @wolfmoonmusic
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vivwritesfics · 8 months
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Ratatouille This Bitch
The Uni work i've done makes no sense to me so max gets a pet fic (out of all of the pet fics this is maybe the pet i want the post) (realistically bc i can't be owning a shetland)
F1 Masterlist
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y/nl/n
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liked by charles_leclerc, and 234,912 others
y/nl/n anybody tells max I got us a rat ur dead
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landonorris pookie you know he can see this right?
charles_leclerc IS THIS WHAT YOU MEANT BY MAX JR I THOUGHT YOU WERE TELLING ME YOU WERE PREGNANT
y/nl/n ur literally commenting on a picture of my son like i didn't give birth to him
username1 didn't max say he wanted a dog next?
username2 don't you guys have cats?
username3 lmao this is gonna be a disaster
maxverstappen1 IS THIS WHY DANIEL AND CHARLES WERE CONGRATULATING ME?
maxverstappen1 pls pick up the phone I BEG
maxverstappenjr
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liked by y/nl/n and 24,182 others
maxverstappenjr mom teaching me to read ✌✌💖💖💋💋💋💗💗📚📚📚👓👓👓👓
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username4 guys max isn't in the likes or comments - im assuming the worst
username5 yeah but the rat is still named after him
username6 yeah pretty sure most girls don't name their beloved pet after their ex
landonorris surprised he hasn't been eaten by a cat yet
y/nl/n you're doubting my parenting skills?
maxverstappenjr
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liked by maxverstappen1 and 35,934 others
maxverstappenjr update: dad gave me a cracker, i think he's starting to like me
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username7 oh to be max verstappens pet rat eating crackers
y/nl/n my boys
charles_leclerc bring him to a grand prix
landonorris put him in max's car danielricciardo let him fulfil his destiny y/nl/n blocked, all of you
username8 oh my god i just noticed they named him max jr, iconic
mv1_mv33
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liked by username9 and 129 others
mv1_mv33 three stages of max finding out about max jr (pictured)
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username9 bet
maxverstappenjr yeah but he loves me now
username10 omg max jr responded
username11 max jr, i'm glad your father has love for you maxverstappenjr fank
maxverstappenjr
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liked by danielricciardo and 50,293 others
maxverstappenjr update: dad has become the favourite parents, is currently trying to convince mum that i need a brother
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username12 i did not see this coming
username13 max jr, how did you win over max sr?
maxverstappenjr love and dedication maxverstappenjr and i shat in uncle daniels hand
y/nl/n we need an army
landonorris so they can shit on daniel?
y/nl/n and you (nobodies safe)
maxverstappen1 definitely need more
maxverstappen1 we can then bring our army to the monaco grand prix
y/nl/n you and our rat army can be teammates
username14 omg they're gonna put a rat in max's helmet and ratatouille this bitch
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soaps-mohawk · 1 month
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I'm going to be honest
I'm having a genuinely hard time making this post. I've been fighting with it for a couple weeks now, but I think it's time I finally make it.
I'm not having fun on this blog anymore.
It sounds bad, but honestly, it kind of is.
I think a lot of it started from the very beginning with the precedence and expectations I put on myself. I've always tried to respond to every comment I get. Even from the beginning. It's just a polite thing to do since those who leave comments took the time to write out what they think of my fic, even if it's just a keysmash. I've always felt the need to thank those who leave comments or reblog my writing or (now that tumblr has it) replied to my fics. It worked fine before because none of my fics were particularly popular. Even my most popular fic (at that time) didn't get as much attention as CRCB has. I've never had a "big blog" before, nor a fic as popular as CRCB has gotten.
It was fine at first, responding to everyone, engaging with everyone. I was riding that high of omg so many people are reading and enjoying my fic! I've never had anything quite like this before.
Now...it just feels more like a chore. I set this precedence on this blog that I respond to everyone and I know a lot of people have said that they're surprised I responded to them and to everyone, and now I'm getting why a lot of writers don't. I'm exhausted. I feel like I've just been robotically saying the same thing over and over trying to respond to people now. I used to love seeing asks in my inbox and reblogs and replies but now? All I feel is dread because I have to respond to all of those.
Turning anon off was a big help. It lessened the sheer volume of asks I was getting a day. And while I do feel bad for all of my anons who prefer to stay anons, with everything that happened (the multiple incidents) with anon that kind of started to suck the joy out of everything. That paired with the obsessive need to constantly have my inbox cleared and make sure everyone gets a response...I can understand now too why big blogs will have 200+ asks in their inbox. It's hard and it's exhausting and I'm burning out.
First it was the fic that was burning me out. Things have gone on far longer than I planned and I just wasn't prepared for this fic to go on and for a while there it was dragging. I'll admit that. If I could go back, I'd speed up a few things, but it's done, it's posted there's no going back. I kind of hoped I would have the mental capacity to upload more than once a week too, but I just couldn't. I still can't.
I've come to dread posting chapters because I know I'm going to have to reply and respond to everyone. The only thing keeping me posting is the fact that we're in the part of the story I've been excited about since the beginning and also because I keep leaving everyone on cliffhangers and I love torturing y'all with all of them.
So that being said, this is in no way to shame anyone for interacting with me, anyone leaving comments or replies or sending asks. Don't feel bad about doing it please. I appreciate all of you that have engaged with me and it really means so much to me. Honestly, earlier this year, if I didn't have this fic and everyone on this blog, I might not have made it to now. It's been a really rough year and it's still going to be into next year. It's just getting to the point where I need a break.
I've needed a break for a long time. I thought taking days off the blog would help, and it did for a couple of weeks, but now even on the days I'm supposed to be on the blog and engaging, I just find myself queueing stuff up and just being offline most of the day still.
I'm tired. That's the best reason I can give. I'm tired and burned out on life and I'm tired and burned out on this blog.
So...I think I need a break. I need to not keep responding to every single reply and reblog every chapter. I need to not force myself to answer every ask right away, no matter how much I want to. I feel bad, but I know everyone would rather have me here and enjoying the blog than forcing myself to interact to the point where I'm dreading it and just robotically repeating myself over and over with every reply and answer and comment.
I won't be pausing the fic, I won't be not uploading. I'll still be posting chapters, I just might not be interacting as much as I have been. It's just putting such a mental strain on me still, even with anon off, even with days off. And with things getting busier for me, it's going to be too much to try and deal with irl stuff and write and try to be super active on the blog. There's going to come a point where I have to sacrifice the writing or the blog and I'd rather sacrifice the blog to keep myself sane, and also to keep trying to finally get this fic done. I love this fic, don't get me wrong, but I'm just burning out.
I'm already burned out in a lot of ways.
I was planning kinktober this year but honestly I'm considering not doing it because I know interaction is going to be insane and it's going to be a lot to keep up on. Plus trying to write that many fics is hard and I'm not sure I have the ability to do it. I have a few done but now I'm just like...is that something I want to do on top of irl stuff and CRCB.
There's just no joy in it anymore. It's not anyone's fault but mine. I put the pressure on myself, I held myself to that standard for this long despite the fact I knew it was draining me. I've tried to push through when I should have prioritized myself. I feel so guilty not responding to everyone. I feel so guilty being a day or two late responding to everyone.
I want to be here and interacting and responding to things but I just can't bring myself to anymore. It's no one's fault, and this is not a drag on anyone, or an attempt to make anyone feel bad or guilty for interacting or sending asks or anything. I'm just airing out the truth and saying what I need to say because I feel like I've been so robotic and lifeless with my responses these last couple weeks and I feel like I need to explain why. It's nothing anyone has done. It's my fault. It's 100% my fault.
Things have just gotten to be too much and it's my fault for forcing myself to be so active. The social battery has dropped into the negatives. I'm not a social person. I can only handle so much interaction and I've pushed so far beyond that, that things have gotten to this point. I want to be here and I want to have fun and I want to use this as an escape but I just don't feel that way about it anymore. It's a chore for me, a job, something I feel like I have to do and it's my fault that I feel that way. It's my own standards and expectations I set on myself, and my expectations on what I think my followers want and deserve and now I feel like I've gone on too long like this that I can't change things without hurting anyone's feelings. I don't want people to think I'm ignoring them in favor of others because I know there's writers out there that do that. They only respond to a certain group and ignore others that comment and reblog. I don't want to make anyone feel like I'm doing that to them and that's now led me to here.
I'm forcing it and I'm tired.
It's been hard these last few weeks. The life has just been draining and draining continuously. The joy and the love I have for this blog and my followers and the interactions and the fic. The last anon bullshit that happened was just kind of the last nail in the coffin so to speak. The straw that broke the camel's back. Things stopped being fun. It made me feel bad (and not in the guilty way, though that was a part of it) and I'm honestly just over it. I'm over the blog, I'm over interacting, I'm over life at this point. August is a hard month for me and every year it seems to get worse and worse. A lot of it is unrelated to anything online and I was going to make a post about it but honestly I just don't want to. Those that know, know. Those that don't...it doesn't matter.
I'm getting annoyed by the blog, I'm getting annoyed every time I look in my notifications and see an ask or a reply or a comment. I'm getting annoyed by some of my followers and that's not fair to you. Everyone always talks about how nice and kind and patient I am when I'm really not. I'm not the person I present myself to be on this blog, the way I mask myself so I can present myself as being a normal, kind human being. The mask is coming off because I'm so tired I can't keep it up anymore. It's happening here and it's happening in real life. I'm tired and I'm frustrated and I'm angry at a lot of things and the last thing I want is to start taking it out on my followers. You don't deserve that, especially when it's not your fault, it's nothing any of you have done. It's all me.
It's not you, it's me.
So for the sake of not burning this whole thing to the ground, I'm going to take a break. I'm not replying to everyone, I'm not responding to every reblog, I won't reply to every ask I get right away, if at all because sometimes I just don't have anything to say in response and I need to learn that's okay. It's nothing against you. It's not aimed at anyone specifically, I'm just trying to put myself first and stop things from escalating. I need a break and I'm going to do something selfish and I'm going to take it.
Don't apologize because it's not your fault. Don't apologize because you think you might have contributed to this because you didn't. It is no one's fault but my own.
I'm the one that needs to apologize to all of you because I've just not been myself because I've been forcing myself to be someone I'm not. I've been very unfair to a lot of people over the last seven months that this blog has been active and I've held a precedent that is not sustainable in the long run and made everyone believe that I was capable of maintaining that kind of interaction when I'm not.
I'm sorry. I'm sorry I've been putting everyone through this. I'm sorry I've been so detached and robotic and ingenuine. I'm sorry I led everyone to believe I'm someone I'm not. I'm sorry I've dragged this on this long that it's gotten to the point that I have to make this post.
I considered just disappearing but that wouldn't be fair to you either. I don't want to put you through that, so I'm pouring all of my thoughts out and making you read through this fucking novel of a post. If you've made it this far, then congrats I guess. Gold metals to you who bothered reading this far.
Anyway, all of that aside, I'll still be posting chapters. I'll have them scheduled and I'll probably come on and add links places to keep things current. I'll respond and reply and answer asks when I feel like it. You don't have to stop sending them, but just don't expect them to be responded to right away anymore. I'll probably still be here reblogging things I want and doing things when I feel like it.
I just need a few weeks to myself. Time I don't have to care about the blog at all and keeping up with it. Anon will remain off for the sake of keeping asshole trolls away, and also so I don't open tumblr and have 200 asks in my inbox after a week. Sorry to my anons but it's just the way it needs to be right now. Maybe once this break is over and I've dealt with irl stuff, I'll consider putting it back on. I just can't after everything I dealt with recently on anon.
It'll be the same on Ao3, for those that follow here and read there. Comments will probably sit for a while. They won't be answered right away anymore unless I get the energy to burn through them. Even then I won't try to answer them all at once like I did this last weekend.
I'll try to reblog something every day so y'all know I'm alright. I don't want y'all to panic and it's not fair to put you through that, especially those that might not see this or bother reading it. Those that follow simply for the fic and nothing else. I'm here, I'm just not...here.
This week's chapter is in the queue to be posted tomorrow as usual. Chapters will still come out as planned since I'm not stopping writing, just taking a break from the blog itself.
Thank you those of you who stuck through to the end here. I appreciate all of you so much. You have no idea. I'm sorry I let things get to this point and I'm sorry to anyone that I've gotten rude or snappy with because I couldn't be selfish and put myself first. I'm sorry to anyone that got a robotic, repeated response to something they were probably excited to share. I'm sorry I've been so unfair to everyone and I hope you can forgive me.
Take care and I'll talk to everyone when I have the energy to.
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dollfacefantasy · 9 months
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Restless Dreams
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pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader
summary: leon gets home late after another hard day at work to you having some extra sweet dreams.
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, fingering, somnophilia, wet dream
word count: 3.6k
a/n: hey everyone!! hope you all enjoy this :) i guess i've been into soft leon with somno lately idk LOL. i was kind of tired myself when writing/editing this, so forgive any errors pretty please. new divider from here. thank you for any comments and reblogs <3
tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @nexysworld @explorevenus
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“So what time do you think you’re gonna get here?” you ask before blowing on the drying polish that coats your nails.
“My shift finishes up at 12, and then I gotta file some reports. I’ll probably be done at 1, so not too long after that,” Leon explains through the phone. Despite his attempt to lay it out for you, there’s still a pause, one he came to recognize as your reaction of displeasure. A smile plays on his lips. “But you know the real answer is as soon as I can.”
You look down at your phone on your vanity, a pout forming on your face. Obviously, it wasn’t his fault he had to work so much now. He’d warned you when he started at the police station a few months ago, but it didn’t prepare you for how much you’d miss him.
It made you feel dumb, that nagging, achy feeling of longing in your chest. It wasn’t like he was off to war or something. You still saw him almost everyday. But more and more of his time was consumed by work now. Even when he was with you, he was often exhausted. 
Sometimes all you could think about his new job was that he was your boyfriend, not theirs. You’d mentally scold yourself for being so immature when that happened, but the sentiment still lingered in your head.
“Ok…” you say, trying to keep your voice neutral. He hears the dejection in your tone though.
“Baby,” he coos in that voice that sent warmth through your spine and got you to agree with everything he said, “You know I’d rather be with you. I’m just new and have to take the time to learn. Plus, with the caseload and the number of officers here, they need me at the station.”
“I need you more,” you say. You try to pass it off as playfulness, but it comes from real feelings. Your heart was beginning to tense with resentment for the RPD for taking him away so much. You knew the job meant a lot to him though which is why you would never unleash your admittedly petty frustrations.
A low laugh leaves him, and you can hear that loving smirk on his face as his voice comes through your phone’s speaker.
“Do you now? You’re really missing me that much?” he teases, leaning back in the driver’s seat of his cruiser. 
He knew that you did in fact miss him that much. And even though, since starting at the police station, he tried to project the image of a tough guy, he missed you just as much. That’s why he started calling you during lulls in his shift.
“Mhm. It’s not fair. It’s like I’m sharing you with the station. And I don’t like sharing,” you say with an exaggerated huff.
“Oh, I know you don’t,” he chuckles. He sighs happily, checking the time to calculate how much time was left before he could have you in his arms again. “But not much longer, baby. Then you get me all to yourself for the whole weekend.”
“I better,” you grumble with a smile.
“I promise you will,” he says genuinely. A light on his dashboard flickers, alerting him that his attention is needed elsewhere. “Just don’t stay up too late waiting for me tonight, ok? Your rest is important.”
“Seeing you is more important,” you respond.
“I know, but I prefer my girl when she’s not all cranky and sleep deprived. So try tonight, sweetheart. For me?” he asks.
“I guess,” you concede. Your heart already aches, knowing he’s about to hang up.
“I love you, baby,” he says softly, “I’ll see you later.”
“I love you too,” you tell him before he disconnects the call.
The silence that falls over your room makes it feel even more empty. You tap the glass screen of your phone, scanning for the time before you finish getting ready for bed. Your mouth curves downward when the numbers light up on the screen.
Only 10:30. Too much time till you’ll hear him come through your front door, but it’s not like you can do anything about it. You haphazardly go through the rest of your routine before dragging yourself over to your bed and getting in.
Sliding between the soft pink sheets, you flop down against your pillow and stare at the ceiling as you contemplate how to kill the time. Nothing grabs your interest because none of it’s him. It’s all just filler.
And worst of all, you were starting to feel sleepy. You wanted to wait up for Leon so badly, but you also went through a whole day of your own that tired you out. Plus, your bed was just so comfy with your plush blankets and full pillows, stuffed animals and frilly decorative cushions scattered on one side.
Thinking it would help to keep your eyes actively focused on something, you try to read. Your eyes scan over the words, and it isn’t long before you realize you’d made a horrible mistake. Moving your eyes along the page only made them more drowsy.
Next you turn on the tv and put on something you didn’t really have to pay attention to. But the soft glow of the tv casts across you and the low chatter of the characters becomes background noise, making it even harder for you to keep your eyes open.
You lazily reach across your bed and grab the bunny stuffie Leon had bought for you a few weeks prior. Tucking it beneath your chin and close to your chest, your drooping eyes fall shut and your breaths become soft and even. Barely any time has gone by before you’re sinking into slumber.
Leon glances down at his phone, the small numbers illuminating 2:04 in the darkness of the hallway. He enters your place with the key you gave him and shuts the door as quietly as possible. He knows you’re sleeping from seeing the dark bedroom. Already feeling guilty for taking longer than he’d expected, he didn’t want to add to that feeling by waking you up.
He makes his way to your room, padding silently down the hall. Once he reaches the door, he pushes it open with almost no force in an attempt to avoid even the slightest creak. You’re where he expected you to be, curled up in your bed, completely peaceful as you slept. He knew he probably looked like a little lovesick puppy right about now, eager to hop into bed and snuggle up to your side, but he didn’t care.
It takes him no time to shed his police uniform. He makes quick work of unlacing his boots and kicking them off. His pants and shirt crumple up at the foot of your bed next to his belt and socks. Finally, once he’s got on a pair of sweatpants he kept at your place, he climbs into bed with you.
He shoves your stuffies and extra pillows out of his way with a playful roll of his eyes and gets as close to you as he can. His arm drapes over you, and he nuzzles the back of your neck, planting a few kisses on the base of your head. You smelled so good, felt so soft, perfect to come home to.
His body melts into the mattress, and he’s ready to give into his own urges to sleep. That is until he notices you’re not as peaceful as you appeared from the doorway. His eyebrows raise as he feels your legs squirming. Restless movements from your feet beneath the covers and your thighs shifting aimlessly against each other.
He’s ready to brush it off at first. ‘Must just be having some wild dreams,’ he thinks with another kiss to your head. But then he hears the faintest sound, so quiet that he probably would have missed it had he been focused on anything else. It’s a whimper. A gentle, tender squeak that slips from between your lips into the cool air of your bedroom.
Now, his face conveys his concern. He worries you’re having a nightmare. That at any moment you’ll wake up with tears in your eyes and your heart pounding out of your chest. Immediately, he begins stroking your arm, kissing your temple, murmuring “It’s ok, baby. I’m here.”
But you make that little noise again, and this time it paints a different picture in Leon’s head. This whimper didn’t sound scared or stressed, like you were crying out for his protection. No, this sound brought to mind images of you writhing beneath him, nails marking his biceps with small crescents as he pumped himself in and out of you.
He shakes his head because that couldn’t be it. That’s just his horny mind creating things that aren’t there from being so pent up.
At least that’s what he tells himself until you make the noise again. It brings the same memories up, but this time he’s even more sure of it. He lifts his head off of yours to look down at you and try to figure out what to do next.
You look so cute, brows slightly furrowed, lips parted. As he brushes some hair from your face, he notices your fingers clutching your stuffed rabbit a little tighter. Your breath hitches for a moment before you let out a soft, sleepy whine of his name.
It’s unmistakable now what’s going on. He smirks and traces a finger over your lips. The pad of his index finger drags on your bottom lip slightly, turning your mouth into that pout he loved so much. He leans and kisses your cheek as you whine again.
“Please.”
He chuckles at how needy you sound even in your sleep, but at the same time, your voice has blood rushing to his cock while his head swirls with desire. He shifts his own hips, subtly pressing his erection against your ass. His eyes flutter at the minute pleasure. He grows more bold, and his hand rubs your hip before coasting up your side to your chest, giving your breast a gentle squeeze.
You whimper louder and squirm. He squeezes again softly while lowering his head to your neck to lay some tender kisses on the side of your throat. His palm leaves your tits and smooths down over your tummy in the direction of your shorts.
Cautiously, he maneuvers his hand past the waistband and dips into your panties. He cups your pussy, feeling the heat radiating off the area. A single finger slides between your folds in almost an exploratory touch. He feels your slick all over his digit. Clearly, this dream was a pretty good one.
He begins to use another finger, sliding the two up and down through your wetness. You roll onto your back, your breasts rising and falling as your breath gets heavier. Your thighs spread a little as if you subconsciously sensed his presence between your legs.
In your dreams, Leon was doing a lot more than rubbing you with his fingers. After you had fallen asleep, it felt like no time had passed. All of the sudden you were just on the table in your dining room, spread out for his rapture. 
You didn’t realize you were dreaming, everything felt so real. To you, he was really there, looking down at you with those loving yet lecherous eyes. Hands roaming your exposed body, lips caressing your skin all over. Everything seemed light and airy while also feeling heavy and thick. Your head, filled with clouds, slipped in and out of the moment. The sensation of him rutting his cock between your thighs and sliding inside of you was your reality at the moment.
In actual reality, Leon continues to move his fingers slowly, swiping them over your entrance and taking them back up to circle your clit. You mewl when he applies some pressure, sending sparks through you. Your squirming becomes more motivated, and he can tell your drifting away from your restful sleep back toward consciousness.
“I’m right here, sweetheart. I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his voice huskier with arousal this time around.
You hear his voice in your dreams. The deep rumble enters your ears as you envision his hips pistoning into your wanting cunt. You mumble something in response, but he can’t understand the sleepy babbling. He rubs your clit a little harder with some more speed. You twitch in response, yet your eyes remain closed.
“I know, baby. I know it feels so good,” he coos and kisses behind your ear.
More incoherent words fall from your mouth. He sucks love bites into your neck, and you tilt your head back, craving more of that feeling. The dream version of him began mimicking the actions of the real Leon as you neared waking.
Whining louder, your fingers dig into the smooth fur of your plush bunny before letting it go. He nips at the sensitive skin of your throat as his fingers travel down and push inside your heat.
The feeling rips a moan from you and causes your eyes to open. Your back arches as he works them deeper. Your hips wriggle a little as you make sense of what’s happening.
“Leon?” you whimper. Your sleepy eyes struggle to stay open after being torn from the fog of sleep.
“That’s right, baby. It’s just me. You were having some nice dreams, weren’t you, pretty girl?” he says.
“Mhm,” you hum mindlessly.
“About me?” he teases, eyes watching your body fidget with the pleasure you felt.
“About you,” you confirm before he leans down and kisses your lips. They were so soft against his own. He slowly moves his mouth with yours and languidly slides his tongue against yours.
You moan into the kiss as his fingers curl within you and hit your favorite spot. Your feet lightly kick at the sensation. Your hips rise a little as you feel the flood gates holding your release about to break.
You’re too sleepy to tell him out right, but he knows the signs. He keeps working you there until your body seizes and arches off the bed. You let out a throaty moan and turn your head to bury your face against his shoulder.
“There you go. Let it all out, sweetheart,” he whispers and kisses your head.
You ride out the high on his hand, and by the time you’re done, you’re ready to fall asleep again. Your mind is hazy with the fog of release. You’re drifting off as your body settles without even realizing it.
You’re only yanked back to reality by Leon scooping you up into his lap. He’s sitting with his back to the headboard, and he situates you between his thighs, back against his chest. His arms keep you caged in nice and close, safe and warm.
“Don’t fall asleep again just yet, babydoll,” he murmurs while kissing up your neck.
Your head lolls back against his shoulder. The fight to stay awake gets a little easier as his hand returns to your soaked panties. He doesn’t tease this time, just slides in two fingers and starts moving them in and out.
The new angle makes you squirm and whine, but he holds you tight in place with his free arm.
“Gotta work you open, honey. Can’t just slide my dick in you with no warm up,” he says with a smirk.
His voice pulls you towards lucidity a little more. Your hands wrap around his free arm for support while your hips instinctively roll into his blissful touch.
“I missed you,” you choke out between gasps and whimpers.
“I know you did,” he teases, grinning against your throat. His cock throbs against the small of your back as his ears latch onto the sound of your slick around his fingers. “Came home to cuddle with my sweet girl, and I find her having such dirty dreams.”
Your cheeks heat up as you start to piece together what had happened. You fully realize now that your escapade on the kitchen table was entirely in your mind. You feel embarrassed for a moment, but the feeling dies pretty quick as you rapidly approach the edge for a second time.
“Not my fault,” you whimper shyly.
He chuckles and kisses your temple once more. “I know it’s not. If anything, it’s mine. I think I’ve been neglecting my baby,” he says with a mocking lilt in his voice.
You cry out as his fingers brush against those same spots that brought you to the finish last time. Your hips twitch, and you grip his thighs as your peak rises within you. Moments later your cumming all over his fingers, sucking in a harsh breath as a second release courses through you, even more intense then the last.
His free arm keeps you secure against his chest while rubbing your side soothingly. The heel of his other palm roughly massages your clit as his fingers pump in and out.
“Good girl,” he coos, “That’s it, just one more and then I can put you to sleep how you deserve.”
As soon as you seem to be coming down, Leon lifts you up again, tugging your clothes off and moving your body around like a doll to get you in the position he wants. You were definitely more pliant after two orgasms, but you could also see how his training had been paying off. Maybe this new job wasn’t all bad.
He has you on your back now, thighs against your chest and knees hooked over his arms. Again, he had no patience to tease right now, so after pushing his sweats down to mid thigh, he takes his cock and slides it in you with no hesitation. He groans as your hole takes him in, your walls pulsing around him even after he bottoms out.
“So wet. I can just slide right in,” he mumbles as his own hips twitch.
Your eyes droop at the stretch. It always felt so satisfying, having him buried balls deep in you. As close as he could possibly be. No fear of him leaving or pain of being separated. You whine and reach up to pull him closer.
He follows along and rests his face against your neck as he begins thrusting. You hear him panting right in your ear. His hands grip your hips so hard you know there’ll be marks.
“Perfect pussy’s made for me,” he grunts while snapping his hips, “Miss it every second I’m not inside it.”
You nod lazily as you continue to clamp down around him. After two releases, you didn’t even feel a building ecstasy anymore, just a constant stream of pleasure.
“Leon,” you whine, “Harder. Wanna feel it.”
He moans at your plea but indulges you, grabbing you harder, pressing your legs higher, filling you deeper.
“Wanna be sore after, don’t you, sweetheart? Want a reminder of me while I’m at work. Something to tide you over till I can do this again. Won’t have to rely on dreams then, right?” he says.
“Yeah,” you whimper. Your bed creaks as he picks up the pace, but your moans mask the sound as they grow in volume.
He fucks into you over and over, stoking the flames within himself, trying to build to that explosion. You were so tight, so warm. He hums another low moan and whimpers softly as he feels it right there. He gasps softly before holding you tighter and muttering in your ear.
“Ready for another one, honey? Gonna be the last one and then we’ll get you comfy and off to sleep.”
“Yeah,” you moan again, unable to say much else.
“Good… good girl,” he moans before his hips buck wildly and he finally releases.
You finish for a third time. You cling to him tight as the euphoria washes over you again. Locking your legs around his hips, you keep your face pressed to the warm skin of his neck as it goes through you. You feel the hot flood of cum he fucks into you. His chest is heaving now too as he recovers from the high.
He stays on top of you for a moment before pulling out. You cling harder upon losing that full feeling. He smiles at your desire to be close to him and gives you one more kiss before sitting up.
“So sweet to me, baby. I hope that made up for the late night,” he whispers and strokes your hair.
“It did,” you say with a nod. Your eyes were already shutting again, ready to go back to sleep after being fucked so good.
He looks at you with all the love in the world as he pulls his sweats up. He then helps you pull your panties and shirt back on, trying to laugh at your sleepy, half-assed movements.
After that, he gets you all tucked in next to him, snuggled up in his arms like he originally intended. He even grabs that stuffed bunny he got you and fits it close to you in case you want it.
“Get some rest, honey. You need it,” he whispers while rubbing your back.
“Mhm,” you respond tiredly, “You too. You’re all mine for the weekend, and I don’t want you tired out the whole time.”
“Alright, but I’m gonna be tired out if we do some more of that again tomorrow,” he jokes. He pulls you close to him and shuts his eyes, nestling his head against yours and settling in to rest.
That puts a smile on your face and you nuzzle him once more before letting yourself fall asleep for the night.
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runnning-outof-time · 6 months
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Hasn’t Burned Down Yet | Tommy Shelby x Reader
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Request: yes by @asherlockfandom
Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader
Summary: (Y/N) proves that she's still not one to be messed with when it comes to her business. Tommy's happy he's not the one in the line of fire this time.
Warnings: drinking, mentions of smoking
Word Count: 3475
A/N: I’m sorry it took me so long to share this one with y’all…I’ve been going through it lately hah. I had a bunch of fun writing it though. I hope you like it. Enjoy! :)
A/N 2: this can be read as a standalone, but to really know the Tommy and (Y/N) in this story, I suggest you check out the first part: The House’ll Burn Down…you can find it HERE.
I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!
Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged!
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"Someone's waiting up front for you, (Y/N)," Anna, one of (Y/N)'s employees, announced as she came into the back of the shop.
"Tell them I'll be out in five," (Y/N) responded, her eyes not leaving the latest sketch she was working on.
"He's not the sort that you keep waiting," Anna stated, her words making (Y/N) look up. The latter expected to see a look of worry on the former's face. Instead a slight smile was present.
"Ok...?" (Y/N) trailed off sounding slightly confused as she stood from her desk and walked to the front of the shop. Her brow stayed furrowed until she made it to the front counter and saw who was waiting for her.
"You forgot about my appointment, didn't you?" the man waiting out front asked, his one eyebrow quirked as a smirk played on his lips.
"Just come back, Mr. Shelby," (Y/N) dismissed his teasing question, trying her best to hide her smile as she motioned to him, making Tommy walk around the counter to join her.
"I've got the front," Anna announced, smiling at her boss.
"Thank you, Anna," (Y/N) nodded, sending the younger woman a smile before she began to walk back to the workroom.
"Why do you insist on keeping appointments here?" (Y/N) questioned as she led him to one of the fitting rooms. "This could be done on our own time, you know."
"I thought it was you who insisted on keeping a separation between business and pleasure, hmm?" Tommy commented with a grin, following her into the fitting room before he took hold of her arm and spun her to face him. He pressed his lips to hers and slipped his arms around her waist before she could say a word.
"Separation between business and pleasure, hmm?" she quipped once they'd pulled away, a smirk playing on her lips.
"Was you who wanted it, not me," he reminded her, sending a wink her way. (Y/N) rolled her eyes at the gesture, but she couldn't stop her smile from growing. "Wanted to do that from the second I saw you out there," he admitted then.
"Well I'm happy you were able to control yourself, Mr. Shelby," (Y/N) commented, patting his chest.
"I try my best, Mrs. Shelby," he responded, making her let out a breath of a laugh before she leaned in and kissed him again. "Your composure's easy to crack," he commented with a grin once they pulled away.
"Let's just get this finished with...before I become upset with you," (Y/N) said with a smile, pushing on his chest to break their embrace so that she could grab the things she needed to begin taking measurements.
Truthfully she knew the measurements of her husband by now, but Tommy still insisted on these fittings. He wanted to make sure that things were perfect. It wasn't that he doubted his wife's work, if anything it was because this gave him another chance to spend some time with her. Time was something that neither had much of due to their busy schedules.
Surely you’ve noticed by now that things have - obviously - changed between (Y/N) and Tommy. It most certainly didn't happen overnight though. After (Y/N) put Tommy in his place, she fully expected him to take his business elsewhere. But he stuck around, and when he realized that she wasn't going to change how she dealt with him, he decided to change his approach. One thing led to another and eventually, as of two months ago, (Y/N) found herself with a new surname. She honestly couldn't think of a time where she's been as happy as she is now.
Along with getting married, (Y/N)'s business has also taken off. She's now one of the most respected tailors in not only Small Heath, but the entirety of Birmingham. She worked hard to gain her reputation, and all of the countless hours that she spent mastering her craft have certainly paid off.
"What will you be wearing to the event?" Tommy decided to make conversation whilst (Y/N) was still taking measurements.
"Since when is that something you care about?" she playfully quipped in response as she moved over to her clipboard and wrote a few notes before returning to him.
"I want to make sure you match me," he gave his reason.
"Oh I'll make sure you do, darling," she smiled at him, her eyes finding his for just a moment before she motioned for him to hold his arms out so that she could take the measurements for his suit's jacket.
She bit on her bottom lip to try and conceal the smile as she brought her tape measure up and held it against the underneath of his arm. She did this to both sides before moving it down to hold it against his torso. She really had to bite on her bottom lip as she slowly moved her hand down along his ribs. Just like she expected him to, Tommy flinched the second her fingers touched the space below his ribs.
"Stop moving," she teasingly chastised him, continuing on with making her measurements.
Tommy just grunted in response, watching her closely as she finished with his left side and moved onto his right. Here she slowed her actions down substantially. He couldn't help but flinch again when her fingers brushed over that same spot.
"I said stop moving, Thomas," she rebuked him again, lifting her gaze up to match his, showing him the smile that was present on her features.
"You know what you're doing," he commented, his eyes narrowing as they stayed locked onto hers.
"I do," she chirped, tilting her chin upwards, "very well."
"Then you should know..." he trailed off, a mischievous glint flashing in his eyes, "that I know those exact same spots on you," he paused, his eyes dropping to sneak a glance at her frame, "very well," he finished his statement by reaching out and pressing his fingers into the skin of her sides, where she was extremely ticklish.
These actions made (Y/N) shriek and quickly drop her hands so that she could try to get him to stop what he was doing. It wasn't an easy feat. "Tommy, stop!" she exclaimed through her giggles, finally managing to get ahold of his hands and pull them from her sides after a few moments had passed. "We're supposed to be professional here," she hissed at him then, trying her best to hide the smile that just wouldn't stay away. She stopped trying when she noticed that he was already smiling.
"Fair enough," he nodded, showing that he was conceding to her. "Finish your measurements."
(Y/N) let go of his hands with a huff and bent down to grab the tape measure that had been discarded when this all started. They then sent each other a look: (Y/N) to check if he was really finished with his previous tirade, and Tommy to tell her 'no more funny business'.
The stare down lasted a few moments, but nothing else happened once (Y/N) resumed taking her measurements. The only time the envelope was pushed was when Tommy spun (Y/N) around and managed to sneak a kiss just before she crossed the threshold into the front of the shop.
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(Y/N) made sure that Tommy's suit complimented her dress for the gala they were attending that evening. She had picked out a royal blue evening gown, and made sure that Tommy's suit was a charcoal color and had a blue tie to bring it together. She also wanted to include a blue pocketsquare but Tommy fought it, saying that the tie was enough. (Y/N) finally conceded when Frances came and announced that their car had arrived, instead telling Tommy that he'd need to make this up to her in some way.
Now the event was in full swing. (Y/N) stayed by Tommy's side, joining him in the conversations that he was having. She was able to add meaningful viewpoints, and Tommy appreciated that. Her presence was way more than just a prize on his arm.
"Mr. Shelby, I must bring attention to the fine suit you've got on," Elliot Thorsby, a man who was a prominent figure in automobile sales, began as he approached the couple. (Y/N)'s smile grew as she heard what he said. The suit she made had been getting compliments like this one all evening. "Might I ask where you had it made?"
"Me wife’s the one who made it," Tommy was happy to share, nodding his head to the woman standing on his right. "She makes all of my suits."
"Ahh," Elliot responded, looking surprised as he nodded slowly. "Is she open to taking on new clients?" he asked then, still speaking to Tommy.
"Now that's something that I wouldn't know personally," Tommy began, glancing over at his wife before he continued, "why don't you ask her yourself?"
Elliot held Tommy's gaze for a few beats before it seemed like he snapped out of whatever bubble he was in. That was when he finally turned his attention to (Y/N). "Are you taking new clients, Mrs. Shelby?" he asked, his bushy eyebrows raised in wait.
(Y/N) took a moment to respond to the question. She figured that he deserved to wait a few moments longer. After all it was him who decided to ask it indirectly in the first place. And she honestly quite enjoyed watching him squirm in his spot; obviously not used to being on the receiving side of this sort of situation.
"Well I've already got quite the schedule lined up, but for you, Mr. Thorsby, I'd be willing to make an exception," she finally informed him of her decision, a professional smile gracing her features.
"You would?" he sounded elated, almost like a kid on Christmas.
"I would," she affirmed with a nod.
"Wonderful," Elliot grinned. He paused as a man came to his side and whispered something in his ear. "You'll need to excuse me now, a business matter has come up. We'll reconnect at the end of the evening and schedule a time," he told the Shelby couple once the other man had left.
"That sounds fine," (Y/N) nodded at him, then accepting the handshake that Elliot extended to both her and Tommy. He was the first to leave the conversation, leaving the husband and wife to turn to each other.
"Got you another client," Tommy commented on the previous coversation as he fished the tin of cigarettes out of his pocket.
"We'll see how it goes," (Y/N) answered in a nonchalant manner, smiling at her husband as she shrugged her shoulders.
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The earliest Elliot Thorsby was able to come to (Y/N)'s shop in Small Heath was two weeks after their initial conversation date.
She greeted him with a smile before telling Anna that she'd be taking this client and that the younger woman should man the desk while she was gone. Once everything was squared away in that regard, (Y/N) waved on Elliot for him to come back with her.
Things went well with the fitting. (Y/N) was able to get a good read on what Elliot wanted and had some great ideas for a design before she was even finished with the measurements. Now she couldn't wait to get some time alone to get started on her beginning sketches. But first she had to see Mr. Thorsby out.
The two returned to the front of the store. (Y/N) told Anna that she was able to return to her previous project, leaving her and Mr. Thorsby alone at the counter. She quickly got to work on calculating the price of the fitting visit and also what the suit would cost. She then shared that final price with him without second thought.
A few moments passed and Elliot still hadn't offered up the money yet. This made (Y/N) glance up from the ledger she was writing down the sale in. "Is there a problem?" she asked with raised brows, immediately noticing the sour look that was present on his face.
"Don't you think the price is a bit...much?" he questioned her.
"No, sir. It's spot on with what I normally charge," there was no hesitation in her answer.
"Yeah, but..." he trailed off, obviously not pleased with the response he was given. "But given my relationship with your husband, and the business we've conducted together…” he paused again, “well don't you think that warrants a lesser price?"
It took everything in (Y/N) to stop the scoff that she wanted to let out in response to his statement. It made her look of confusion quickly turn to one of surprise. "Your relationship and the manner in which you conduct business with my husband does not have any effect on how I run my business, Mr. Thorsby," she began, speaking in a matter-of-fact tone, "I take pride in my work and I know how much my suits are worth."
"But for a man with my standing, don't you think that..."
"You'll pay full price for the suit," she cut him off before he could even finish his statement.
Hearing her blatant demand made his jaw go slack. "And if your husband gets knowledge of the manner in which you're treating his associates?" he decided to try another direction.
"My husband pays full price as well," she quickly shut him down for the second time, not in the slightest bit fazed by his threats.
"Your own husband?" there was bewilderment in Mr. Thorsby's voice.
"He knows how much they're worth," (Y/N) doubled down, once again speaking in a matter-of-fact tone.
"I think you're making a rather grand mistake here, Mrs. Shelby," he tried one last time to try and turn the tides in his favor.
(Y/N) didn't waste a moment worrying about his threat. "I think I'll be just fine," she assured him, a tight-lipped smile forming on her face. She hoped that it added salt into the wound she'd inflicted upon his ego.
"You're not afraid of what'll come once word of this gets out?" he still continued trying. It was almost comical now. She sent him a look; a non-verbal way of asking him 'are we finished here?'. But he paid no attention to it, instead trying one last line that he used when he didn't get his way. "Do you not know how much power I hold?"
Ahh, the power card, (Y/N) thought to herself as she continued to try her hardest and hold back her scoff, where have I heard that one before?.
She was way passed finished with him and his droning on at this point. His pestering had brought her to the end of her professional rope. She was trying like hell to keep herself composed and not lose her cool. She wanted to keep taking the high road.
A few moments passed before she took a deep breath and finally responded: "I've dealt with the likes of you before, Mr. Thorsby. I've been given threats harsher in nature than the one you've just told me. My shop hasn't burned down yet. So I'm not worried about what your comments on the prices of my suits will do to my reputation." Her eyes never left his as she spoke, showing him that she meant every single word.
Another pause arose, and (Y/N) wondered if maybe she'd finally gotten through to him. Maybe he'll finally leave.
But, of course, he stayed standing in front of the counter. "Are you sure this is the path you want to take?" he gave one last try, his eyebrows raising as he tried to keep up his imposing figure. It was more then obvious that said figure wasn't working on (Y/N) though.
"Are you going to pay for the suit, Mr. Thorsby?" she asked him, no longer wanting to entertain his theatrics, her eyes still locked onto his. It became even more apparent as each second passed that she wasn't going to change her mind on this.
"You'll regret this, Mrs. Shelby," he finally conceded, but not without throwing one last threat out there.
"As will you, Mr. Thorsby. Have a nice day," she nodded, still unfazed by all of it as her dismissive goodbye made him turn and exit her shop. She stood stoic and watched as the door shut behind him. Only when she was finally alone did she shake her head and let out a huff. "Prick," she muttered to herself before she tore the ledger sheet out of the book and crumbled it up.
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"Do you remember Elliot Thorsby?" (Y/N) asked as she moved over to the mantlepiece in Tommy's office later that evening.
"Course I do," Tommy responded without up looking from the paper he was reading, "what about him?"
"He came for his fitting today," she started, grabbing one of the decanters and an empty glass so that she could pour herself a drink.
"And?" he asked for more information, finally looking up at her just as she spun to face him.
(Y/N) didn't answer right away, instead bringing the glass up to her lips and taking a healthy swig from it. She hissed at the burn that accompanied the whiskey as it slid down her throat and tried her best to smile at her husband. Tommy raised his eyebrows at her as he removed the glasses from the bridge of his nose, now waiting intently for her to share something with him.
(Y/N) brought the glass back up to her lips and held it there as she let the silence linger for a little bit longer. She didn't quite know why she was waiting so long...maybe she enjoyed watching him as he tried to hold his intent composure. "I don't think you should work with him anymore," she finally told him.
"Why not?" he immediately asked for more information.
"He felt that he should pay less for his suit because of his connection to you; felt that I should honor your relationship and then threatened me when I wouldn't adhere to his tactics," she happily told him about her interaction with the businessman.
"He threatened you?" Of course this was the part of her statement that Tommy fixated on.
"Well he tried to...the threats didn't really take," she shrugged, finishing the rest of her glass.
"What did he say to you?" he was still hung up on it.
"Tommy it was nothing," she brushed his worry off. His expression didn't change. (Y/N) let out a sigh before she began walking in his direction. "He told me that I'd lose my clients because he has influence," she told him as she stopped in front of where he was sitting. He looked up at her with raised eyebrows as he turned the chair in her direction. She took that as her signal to sit on his lap. He went back to staring straight ahead once she sat. It didn't take long for her to notice that he still wasn't completely convinced. "Tommy..." she trailed off, taking hold of his chin so that he'd be looking at her again, "what're you thinking?"
"I'm thinking that maybe I should go have a word with him."
"I told you it's fine. I handled it, and I'm not worried about what he's claiming he'll do," she assured him. A smile creeped onto (Y/N)'s features as she thought of something else to add. "Besides, it's not like he threatened me with arson...like this one client I had.”
Tommy couldn't stop the grin from forming as he immediately realized what she was hinting at. “Who’d threaten something like that, hmm?” he questioned, playing along with her.
“Someone who really wanted to try his luck,” she answered, letting go of his chin so that she could wrap her arms around his neck.
“I’d say the risk paid off,” he wagered, his hold on her tightening slightly so that he could pull her even closer.
“It seems like it did,” she agreed, leaning in and pressing her lips to his.
Their kiss was short, and he was soon parting from her to share the next move that he’d thought up. “Any business with Thorsby will be finished tomorrow.”
“Stop thinking about him and kiss me, Tommy,” she responded, her lips brushing against his as she spoke.
He chuckled at her abrupt statement and wasted no time in doing what she asked him to. His lips were back on hers within seconds, and Elliot Thorsby was the furthest thing from each of their minds.
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lovemomhatepolice · 5 months
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monaco official - charles leclerc
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pairing: charles leclerc x fem! reader (lando friend)
warnings: cursing, bad translated French, English is my second language!
summary: when, after six months of searching for the truth, it's race time in Charles's hometown of Monaco, Lando Norris's friend - [Y.N] [Y.L.N] finally decides to reveal the truth. and it doesn't take much at all for everyone to already know it...
yourusername just posted a story
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viewed by: landonorris, lilymhe, iamrebeccad and others
↳ landonorris replied to the story: what are u doin' here?? you didn't tell me anything yourusername: gee, you weren't supposed to know landonorris: I hate you more and more every day, no joking
↳ iamrebeccad replied to the story: no way yourusername: hihi you know what I mean iamrebeccad: NO WAY, girl do you want to finally announce it? yourusername: who knows, we will see
↳ charles_leclerc replied to the story: ❤️ reply liked by yourusername
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charles_leclerc just posted a story
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viewed by: landonorris, carlossainz55, francisca.cgomes and others
↳ carlossainz55 replied to the story: nooooooo, lando will kill you charles_leclerc: nahh, don't worry lando will understand that love does not choose
↳ landonorris replied to the story: i will kill you. no rescue charles_leclerc: lando, we like each other right...?
↳ francisca.cgomes replied to the story: treat her well otherwise lando will destroy you charles_leclerc: I will, not only because I am afraid of lil lando 😅😅😅
reply liked by francisca.cgomes
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yourusername just posted
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liked by: charles_leclerc, pierregasly, kellypiquet and others
yourusername: monaco, sweet monaco
view all comments:
kellypiquet: can't wait to see you! [comment liked by the author] ➝ yourusername: be sure to come with penelope! I missed you much xx ➝ kellypiquet: oh, she missed her favorite aunt too 🥹 ➝ landonorris: @/yourusername and you don't miss me anymore, cool ➝ yourusername: you're not as cute as penelope 😔 ➝ landonorris: you are the most fake friend I have ever had in my life, ngl
pierregasly: good that you are, Kika doesn't let me live to go to meet you ➝ yourusername: my girlfriend ➝ pierregasly: no she's not- ➝ francisca.cgomes: [Y.N] I LOVE U [comment liked by the author] ➝ francisca.cgomes: do not listen to him, he is jealous of what we have
username: IS THIS LANDO?
username193u7: idiots, it can't be Lando, he doesn't have such dark hair
username16678: I hope that this is Charles and our dreams will come true
charles_leclerc: welcome to monaco [comment liked by the author]
landonorris: I'm not going to comment on that. [comment liked by the author] ➝ yourusername: you've already done it…
•••
yourusername just posted a story
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viewed by: landonorris, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and others [tagged: landonorris] [the possibility of responding to this story has been restricted]
↳ landonorris replied to the story: oh, you picked such a bad perspective yourusername: as if any of them were better… landonorris: cruel.
↳ charles_leclerc replied to the story: lando wants to continue killing me? yourusername: not now, now he is drunk and wishes us five children charles_leclerc: FIVE? Chérie, c'est trop, je ne pense pas que nous puissions le faire 😰 (baby, it's too much, I don't think we can handle it.)
↳ carlossainz55 replied to the story: my little lando...
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yourusername just posted a stories
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viewed by: kellypiquet, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and others [tagged: charles_leclerc, carlossainz55]
↳ carlossainz55 replied to the story: calumnia!!! (slander)
↳ charles_leclerc replied to the story: photographing my beautiful girl reply liked by yourusername
↳ maxverstappen1 replied to the story: I've always known that those at Ferrari don't have an ounce of humility... yourusername: MAX IM CRYING
↳ landonorris replied to the story: leave my boyfriend carlos 🤬🤬 yourusername:never.
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landonorris just posted a story
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viewed by: yourusername, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and others ↳ charles_leclerc replied to the story: [Y.N] is going to kill you I wanted to protect you landonorris: WHAT
↳ yourusername replied to the story: YOU DID NOT- landonorris: dear friend, forgive me 😭😭 I can remove this only 500,000 people have seen… it's not that much yourusername: NOT THAT MUCH?
↳ georgerussell63 replied to the story: it's all too much for little lando norris landonorris: im gonna kill myself before [Y.N] will get that chance it will be much less painful
↳ carlossainz55 replied to the story: ya no puedes estar protegido (you can no longer be protected) landonorris: what does it mean? Is it some kind of threat? carlossainz55: oh, [Y.N] will definitely use threats on you
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yourusername just posted
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liked by: charles_leclerc, alex_albon, lilymhe and others
yourusername: forza ferrari, sempre
view all comments [comments have been restricted by the author]
charles_leclerc: ❤️ [comment liked by the author]
georgerussell63: it's all too much for little lando norris
madelyncline: pretty girl! 💗
carlossainz55: it's all too much for little lando norris
alex_albon: it's all too much for little lando norris
maxverstappen_1: it's all too much for little lando norris
oscar_piastri: it's all too much for little lando norris
lilymhe: you look gorgeous in red!! 💋 [comment liked by the author]
kellypiquet: our children need to get to know each other 🥹
arthur_leclerc: mom already wants to meet her grandson! [comment liked by the author]
landonorris: someday because of all of you I will end up with myself. [comment liked by the author]
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f1wags just posted
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liked by: landonorris, yourusername and others f1wags: charles leclerc and [Y.N] [Y.L.N] seen together as they left a famous restaurant in the middle of Monaco! both of them were very laughing and holding hands - could it be that finally the speculations were confirmed and the relationship came to light? or maybe they are just close friends? a lot of food for thought should leave us with the recent post of [Y.N] and the relationship that Lando Norris posted on his Instagram just two days ago
view all comments
landonorris: well as usual lando's fault 🤬🤬 ➝ yourusername: because it's always your fault 🤨
username: WE KNEW IT!!
username9u7757: oh no, i shipped her with lando...🙁
username1u47: finally
username2uy47: how cute they looked together!! 💗💗
usernamey264: waiting for more content!
usernameu24r575: leo has such a beautiful parents 😭
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charles_leclerc just posted
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liked by: yourusername, arthur_leclerc and others
charles_leclerc: chaque jour me donne une nouvelle raison de t'aimer ❤️( every day gives me a new reason to love you)
view all comments [comments have been restricted by the author]
yourusername: i love you ❤️ [comment liked by the author]
landonorris: and lived happily ever after :P [comment liked by the author]
arthur_leclerc: my favorite sister-in-law!!! (and the only one…) [comment liked by the author] [comment liked by the yourusername]
carlossainz55: my boyfriend with his girlfriend!! ➝ landonorris: ey, I'll be jealous ➝ yourusername: good for u
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A/N: the first time I did such a thing, I hope you will like it And I wish you a good time during today's races!
please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)
the latest one-shot about lando!
565 notes · View notes
poisonlove · 7 months
Text
Study Session | c.s
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pairing: Cairo Sweet X fem reader
Summary: Y/n is terrible in literature and needs a hand
Words: 11.58 k
"Miss Y/S, could you come here for a moment, please?" Mr. Miller asks kindly.
I blink in surprise and walk towards the lectern, my feet almost stumbling on the wooden floorboards. I blush with embarrassment, and out of the corner of my eye, I see Cairo looking towards us with seriousness, organizing her belongings.
I swallow nervously and bite my lower lip, my eyes first glancing at Cairo and then at Professor Miller.
Now is not the time to think about your one-sided crush, y/n I mentally scold myself.
I force a smile and look at the professor with genuine curiosity. "Do you need something, sir?" I say, smiling happily, trying to hide my nervousness.
"I'm not sure how to put this..." Professor Miller sighs and takes off his glasses, looking up to meet our eyes. My smile falters seeing the concern and distress behind his eyes. Professor Miller sighs and takes the assignment I had done last week in his hands.
"It's... It's a mediocre work," he says hesitantly, almost embarrassed.
"To be honest... If you don't do something that impresses me, Miss, you'll fail my class," he says with a tone of voice almost guilty.
My palms sweat, and I try to remain calm. I knew I was really bad at literature, but I didn't expect to fail the year altogether. But what can I say? No matter how hard I try, I can't adequately transcribe what I think onto paper.
"I'm sorry," I whisper reluctantly, deeply ashamed of myself.
Professor Miller gives me a gentle smile, tilting his head slightly as he places a reassuring hand on my shoulder.
"You have great potential," he states with conviction, trying to instill confidence in me. "But you simply have a few more difficulties," he concludes with a compassionate tone, seeking my gaze empathetically.
I stare into his eyes, noticing the intention of conveying moral support.
"Miss Sweet," Professor Miller calls Cairo's attention, making her focus on him.
"Yes, Professor Miller?" she responds with a radiant smile, her eyes shining for... some strange reason.
"Could you help Y/N?" the professor asks, looking at me sideways.
His request makes me feel slightly offended for not having a say, but at the same time, it puts me in a state of anxiety because I would have to work with the girl I've always liked.
Cairo's eyes focus on my figure with curiosity, making me feel nervous and embarrassed by her enchanting beauty. A small smile spreads across her lips before she looks at the literature professor.
Brown eyes looking at Mr. Miller.
"Alright," Cairo responds with a shy smile, which also makes the professor smile.
I raise an eyebrow in confusion, observing this strange scene with curiosity and a hint of suspicion.
Cairo's smile is kind but enigmatic, as if hiding something behind that seemingly calm façade. I wonder what it could be, but I decide not to delve too deeply into it at that moment.
Professor Miller seems pleased with her acceptance and nods with a pleased expression. "Great! I'm sure you'll make an exceptional team," he comments enthusiastically, encouraging us to work together towards our common goal.
"Cairo," says the professor, maintaining a dazzling smile, "if you succeed in the task, you'll earn an extra credit," he announces proudly, turning his gaze towards his student with a mixture of hope and trust.
Cairo smiles weakly, visibly embarrassed by the attention she's received.
"Well then," I intervene timidly, trying to dissipate the strange tension that has arisen, "shall we?" I add, looking at the girl I've always had a secret crush on with flushed cheeks.
Despite my shyness and the nervousness that overwhelms me, I strive to maintain a calm and decisive tone, hoping to convey confidence both to myself and to Cairo as we prepare to face this new challenge together.
(...)
"So... What do you think?" I say nervously, my hands fidgeting with the threads of my jeans.
I roll a thread around my finger and pull it, tossing it into the grass.
Cairo's eyes fixate on my paper attentively, her pupils moving along my essay with seriousness. The brunette lowers the sheet and looks at me carefully.
"Well?" I say, feeling my stomach tied up with nerves. "Hmm..." She starts hesitantly, tilting her head and leaning against the tree behind her.
The day was perfect, and we had mutually agreed to spend it outdoors doing literature. The rays filtering through the branches highlight Cairo's face, making her eyes appear light brown
She was... Beautiful.
"Is it okay?" She says timidly.
Cairo hands me back the paper, and I sigh in frustration. I could sense that something was missing.
"Come on... Tell me the truth," I say, looking at Cairo curiously. The brunette bites her lower lip and adjusts her posture.
"So... It's not bad, but..." she starts and bites her lower lip, thoughtful. "It lacks emotion... I don't see the passion... I don't perceive anything," she confesses, and I pout.
Darn it... I wanted the truth, but it was entirely heavy
"I knew I shouldn't have spoken," she quickly says, quickly moving her hand, noticing my frown on her lips. "It's perfect," she smiles broadly, and my eyes soften seeing how sweet and cute she was with that expression on her face.
The dimple was adorable, and her eyes sparkled when she talked about something related to writing.
"No... I asked you to be honest, and you were," I say quickly, smiling.
Her eyes look at me with curiosity, and I try to maintain eye contact as much as possible. "Okay..." Cairo murmurs before giving in to this staring contest, taking her notebook.
"I... " I start hesitantly, "have an old piece that I'd like you to read," I say timidly.
I was aware of the risk that she would realize it was about her, but despite that, I thought it was my best work. After all, I wrote it with all the love I feel for her.
"Oh... I'd be happy to," she says sincerely, her pearly whites showing her beautiful smile. Cairo's eyes light up at the mention of reading something, and she quickly reaches her hand towards me.
Shyly, I grab my backpack and search for my work, immediately noticing that it was sandwiched between two notebooks. My cheeks were red from embarrassment for having something so special to me crumpled and carelessly thrown in my backpack.
Cairo takes it without making any comment on its sorry state and begins to read it.
"In the twilight of our intertwined destinies..." The brunette had a focused expression, her voice soft and enveloping.
I wait with trepidation, observing every nuance of her expressions
"she emerges like an elusive shadow, a siren of my lost dreams, with chestnut locks like the earth." Cairo sighs "Her eyes, deep as the abyss of the soul, reflect falling stars and unfathomable secrets, like dark water on a moonless night, where the lost traveler wanders." Cairo suddenly stops, lips still suspended on the sentence.
Her gaze drifts amidst the words as a wave of emotion envelops her voice.
I remain silent, captivated by her interpretation.
The brunette continues, her voice now softer, almost whispered. "Her smile, a fleeting glimpse of light, a glimmer of hope in the darkness, yet also an echo of sadness in the relentless passage of time, a memory of what could have been."
Cairo voice resonates with the melody of the words, conveying every nuance of emotion contained within the text.
I was completely captivated by her facial expressions.
"Yet, amid the folds of uncertain destiny, remains a lost innocence and an unspoken love, an incomplete harmony, an unexpressed desire, like a melody interrupted in the night wind."
"In her breath dance promises of another life, where perhaps our hearts will meet, in the stillness of a world without end, where time is not the master of our destinies."
Cairo tightens the grip on the paper.
"But for now we part ways, like the waves leaving the shore, destined to wander alone in the depths of time. Yet, in the deepest recesses of my being, her essence remains engraved like an ancient melody."
As she reads those words, Cairo's tone of voice becomes soft and melancholic, conveying a sense of nostalgia and sadness. Her words are filled with emotion, with a slight tremor in her voice reflecting the depth of her feelings. Cairo seems to be carried away by the intensity of the text, and her reading is infused with an aura of melancholy and reflection.
"And so I venture into the night, with her memory as my guide, suspended between the pain of loss and the hope of return. In the silence of my soul, I continue to dream, hoping that one day our destinies will intertwine again."
After finishing the reading, Cairo remains silent for a moment, her gaze lost in deeper thoughts. I can sense her mind in turmoil, her eyes reflecting a mixture of curiosity and admiration. Then, slowly, she lifts her gaze towards me, a spark of interest shining in her coffee-colored eyes.
"Who is the muse behind this extraordinary piece?" she asks, her voice warm and full of curiosity, while her expression reflects a sincere desire to understand the hidden meaning behind the words.
I knew perfectly well that I couldn't say it was her, so I just shrugged nonchalantly. "No one in particular," I add calmly, even though my heart was beating rapidly inside me.
"Yet it seems so specific," Cairo observes, glancing at the paper.
Her words make me uncomfortable, but I try to maintain composure. "It's just a product of my imagination," I say with a forced smile, hoping to divert attention away from myself.
"The only certainty is that she's a brown-haired girl with brown eyes," Cairo asserts with a mischievous smile, and a shiver runs down my spine. "The classic always attracts, it seems," she adds, chuckling softly.
Her observation makes me feel like butterflies are doing acrobatics in my stomach.
"Don't be stubborn now," I blurt out in embarrassment, trying to deflect attention from the imminent truth that Cairo is about to uncover with her acute intelligence.
Cairo bursts into laughter, a sound so genuine and contagious that it makes me feel special. Her laughter fills the air around us, wiping away any traces of embarrassment and fear, and I find myself laughing along with her, feeling light and free.
Cairo stops laughing and smiles, a look of sincerity painted on her face.
"It seems you were good at freelancing after all," she observes with a light and friendly tone.
Her comment makes me feel appreciated and recognized for my abilities, and I smile in response. "Thank you," I reply with gratitude, feeling encouraged by her approval.
"I think Professor Miller will like it," Cairo continues, biting her lower lip, lost in her thoughts.
A strange sparkle lights up her eyes, and at that moment, I decide to ask her a question that has tormented me for too long.
"Cairo do you have a crush on Professor Miller?" I ask timidly, curious but also intimidated by the possible answer.
Cairo blushes deeply. "What on earth are you asking?" she responds sharply, clearly embarrassed.
"From the way you react to his mention..." I say with curiosity, "and also you're completely red," I add with a timid smile.
Cairo shakes her head firmly. "No, no," she responds promptly, "I admire Professor Miller, but I don't have a crush on him. He's old, and, above all, he's married." Her tone is decisive.
"Well, gray hair isn't very attractive, right?" I ask with a smile on my lips, while I observe Cairo nodding slightly, smiling broadly and showing her dimples.
Freckles surround her face as her hair falls gracefully around her shoulders.
Cairo looks up at the sky, which is turning orange at sunset, a sign that the day is coming to an end. "I think it's time to go," she says timidly, almost regretfully.
"Is the study session over already?" I say in surprise, pouting.
Cairo nods and smiles. "So, do you like literature now?" she winks, teasing me.
"Not exactly, but the lesson goes better with you," I reply, aware of what I'm saying and noticing the slight blush on Cairo's cheeks.
I realize what I've said afterward and feel terribly embarrassed. A wave of nervousness overwhelms me as I notice a hint of pink on Cairo's cheeks.
Oh darn, I want to die, I think dramatically.
Cairo looks away. "Well, see you tomorrow.""Ah, yes, of course! See you tomorrow," I reply, trying to hide my embarrassment behind a smile. I feel the heat rising in my face as the embarrassment grows inside me. "Thank you for today, it was... interesting," I quickly add, hoping to alleviate the strange tension that had arisen.
"Thanks to you," she says softly, her gaze warm and comforting.
With a smile on my lips, I watch Cairo walk away. Despite the day starting off badly, it ended in the best possible way.
576 notes · View notes
Text
Dream of You (Spike x Y/N)
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Requested: YES! Requested by @wtv-my-current-hyperfixation
TW: Smut. so much smut.
Word Count: 3k
Masterlist
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Giggles and breathy laughter fills the room. Shared glances and touches of desire. You laid in Spike's arms satiated and content. Your body marked and sore. Nights like this were things if novellas and steamy dreams. Spike caressed your hair as he whispered how proud he was of how well you took him. You blushed and smiled. You wanted this to be forever. You wanted it to be real. You reach for his skin, but it's gone. You're left alone, again in your own bed.
You wake up aroused and moist, again. These dreams are a nightly recurrence, something of routine. Your desire for your dear friend Spike was getting out of hand. You wanted him not just on but inside you. However, you would be mortified if he found out. 
You get out of bed and go straight for a shower. On a lazier day you would play with yourself to meet some of those needs. Today you were in a hurry. It was your nightly date-ish with Spike. You would sit around his crypt and watch tv. You wanted to make sure you ran all your errands before nightfall.
Most of the day is spent running around town, getting things for tonight. You were sure to get all of Spike's favorites, including a couple of blood bags from the butcher. Before heading to the cemetery you decide to pop into The Magic Shop.
"I just need bone powder and it'll be done" Willow commented to Buffy. 
"I'd rather not grind out demon bones." Buffy responded. 
"No, silly. It's on the top shelf to your left."
Willow continued making her spell. She worked diligently to make sure all the ingredients and words were correct. 
"Hello, peeps. What it do?" Y/n walks into the store. 
The scoobies greet y/n as she walks up to Willow. 
"What are you up to?" Y/n asks Willow directly.
"Oh, a truth spell!"
"Who are we truthing?"
"Spike."
"Spike!" Your voice gets a pitch higher.
"Yep. Buffy thinks he's being dishonest, and she needs information from him."
"Don't you need his hair for that?"
Willow pulls out a small vial with blondish hair. "Got it." She grins. 
You look nervous but say nothing. You feel out of place, but you stay. You make sure to be helpful and calm. You didn't know why Spike being under a truth spell made you uncomfortable. You mulled over the ethics of what your friends were doing but instead you came up with an idea. If Willow casts the spell while you were with Spike you could ask him how he feels about you. You're quick to gather yourself and head out with a quick goodbye. 
You basically skip all the way to Spike's crypt.
As you enter the crypt you hear Spike running around downstairs. He hears the door and runs up to the main floor. 
"Don't close that door!" He yells
It was too late; you had shut the door. Spike looks frustrated. He sighs in exasperation. 
"What?" You ask.
"I've been trapped in here for 2 days the damn door is stuck and only opens from the outside."
"Oh... uh oh." It dawns on you that you're now trapped with Spike. You feel giddy but scared. How long will it take for someone to bust in through that door. Worst, now you can't question Spike while he's under the truth spell. If he says he feels the same shenanigans can ensue, but if he says no than you're trapped here with your shame. 
You wring your hands nervously. Spike walks up to you unsure if to shake you or hug you. He notices the care basket you made for them.
"What's this?" He points to the basket. 
"Well, the plan was for us to watch trash tv and eat junk food. I even brought baggies of blood for you. But I guess our plan is to survive." You take a long look at the door. 
Spike palms his face in frustration. Of course, his planned "date" night with you would be ruined. Suddenly he perks up. If the door is shut for now that means you would have to stay with him, share his space... share his bed. 
He takes you by the hand and leads you to the couch he found in the dumpster. 
"Let's make the most of it." He grins. 
You nod and sit back. You spent the night watching tv and eating. It was 2am and your eyes were drooping. Spike noticed and turned off the tv. 
"You can take the bed." He mumbled as he walked you down to his room.
You're suddenly awake. His bed. You can share it. Wait... are you even ready for that intimacy. You risk it. 
"We can share. I trust you" you say cheeks burning red. 
Spike is chipper but downplays it. He assents and lets you lay down. 
"I'll be down in a bit." Spike tucks you in and scurries back to the couch.
You find it hard to fall asleep. Your heartbeat in your ears. You were sharing your crush's bed, and you were stuck with him. What is this a Wattpad story? Eventually, your eyes close and you're off to dreamland. 
Soft touches and passionate gazes. Bodies intertwined in lust and love. You breathe hard finding your sanity as Spike thrusts into you at a steady pace. Your eyes are rolled back into your head. Chest down, ass up, you were at his mercy. He grabs your hair keeping you in place. Your moans are lewd and loud. You feel yourself closer to the edge, closer to release. His hand finds your swollen bud and plays with it in circles. It makes you see stars. You're climbing, soaring, so close to your release. 
"Y/n"
You can’t speak.
"Y/n!" 
You awake in a startle. Your eyes adjust to see Spike over you. You pull the covers up to your chest as your brain adjusts and remembers where you're at. 
"Are you okay?" Spike asks
"Y- yes... why?" 
"You were mumblin' in your sleep. At some point you were yellin'. "
You blush ferociously. "Did I say anything?"
"Nah, love. I couldn’t make it out. 
You sigh in relief. He looks at you confused. 
"It was probably a bad dream" you mumble. You turn around and pretend to go back to sleep to avoid further questions. 
It's 4pm and you and Spike are wide awake and bored. You try to open the door to no luck. 
"Stop, pet. I already tried."
You sigh and turn to him. "What now?"
Spike walks to the couch and turns on the tv again. You give up, not knowing what to do, and sit by him. 
"Do you have any friends?" You ask
"No. Partners in crime, yes. Friends, no."
"Do you get bored of being a vampire?"
"No. I kill, I shag, and I sleep."
"Do you -" you're cut off
"Wha is this, 20 questions?" He turns to you annoyed. 
"I’m bored. Let's play a card game."
Spike obliges. He finds a deck of cards and you spent the next several hours playing cards in silence.
"I’m bored again." It was 8pm. 
"Let me ask you questions then." Spike grinned. 
You nodded, nervously. 
"Who was your first kiss."
"Robert in third grade. Sloppy kisser."
"Cheeky."
"Who was your first love?"
"Jason in college. A real gentleman. Before you ask, we broke up because he developed a coke addiction."
"A real gentleman, indeed."
"Who's your last love?" Spike leaned in expectantly. 
You chuckled, nervous. "What? No question on who I lost my virginity to?" You tried to change the subject.
"It ain' Xander, is it?"
"I’m tired. More questions tomorrow, okay?"
Before he could respond you book it to Spike’s room. You lay down and close your eyes real tight in the hopes that Spike didn't trail after you. 
Dim lights and rustling. The scent of sex in the air. You're laid out, open and exposed. Spike is nowhere in sight. You feel slight pressure on your clit. You gasp as it increases. You look down to see a head of blonde hair. Your eyes widen as you notice what was happening. Spike's tongue played with your folds. He lavished your insides with his mouth. Your breath labored as you grabbed the sheets of the bed for dear life. He made sure to take his time. To memorize every crevice and nook you had to offer. He became drunk with your scent, your taste. You moaned his name like a Gregorian chant while he worshipped you. You felt your lower abdomen tighten as he lapped at your slit, rolling circles around it. You knew he would give you the best orgasm of your life and you were ready for it. You begged him for release. He prayed your juices would wash over his mouth so he could memorize your taste. You feel unstable, as if someone is shaking the bed. The movements becomes more prominent.
You wake up, groggy, disoriented. Spike, again staring down at you. 
"Love, are you okay? You were repeating my name over and over again."
"Um... I had a nightmare... about you...?"
"What about me?"
"Uhhh... You were being attacked... by a uh... demon! And I was scared for you." 
Spike is confused but takes your explanation as true. 
"What time is it?" You try to change the subject. 
"5pm."
You jump out of bed. "We gotta get out of here." You say for your sanity. 
Back at the Magic Shop Willow was ready to do her truth spell. All her ingredients in place and determination in her mind. Sadly, she had taken an extra ingredient in with all the others, a strand of your hair. As Willow works on the, unbeknownst to her, ruined spell Buffy beelined it to Spike's crypt. 
Back at the crypt only arguing can be heard. 
"You're acting weird." Spike accused.
"I’m just tired of being here!"
"So, you're tired o' me?"
"I didn't say that." You turn to him, exhausted and embarrassed. 
Pounding comes from the outside of the crypt. Buffy kicks down the door and goes straight for Spike. You're left standing there. 
"Where's the next big bad?" Buffy questioned Spike. 
"I already told you; I don't know." Spike looks helpless.
"You're lying. Why is the spell not working" Buffy shakes Spike. 
"What spell?" Spike asks.
"A truth spell for you." You chime in without your consent. 
Both Spike and Buffy look at you. Spike was surprised and Buffy annoyed. You were confused at your own statement. You didn't intend to tell the truth. 
Buffy punches Spike a couple of times before questioning him again. When she didn't get an answer, she dropped him and walked away furious. 
You just stand there until you remember your fight with Spike. You had to get out of there. 
"Oh, no you don't" Spike grabs your forearms. "Tell me what's wrong."
"I've been having sexual dreams about you." You blurt out before you can stop yourself. Your free hand flies to your mouth. You mentally reprimand yourself. 
Spike takes in what you said. A grin painted on his face.
"You don't say, love. Out of curiosity, what are we doing in these sexual dreams" He leans in. 
Your eyes widen and your mouth starts moving. You tell him about the lewd and lustful acts you have dreamed about. You confess to waking up wet and pent up. You put yourself out there in display for him to ravage the carnage of your secrets. 
Spike's face hurts from smiling so wide. 
"Now tell me, why would you have these dreams about us?"
You try to bite your tongue but it's too late, "Cause I’m in love with you."
Spike wastes no time claiming your mouth. He memorizes how you taste, how soft your lips are, the way you closed your eyes to kiss him. 
"Ler me show you what I can really do." He whispers against your lips. 
He picks you up bridal style and walks you down to his bedroom. With care he places you on his bed. He climbs on top of you, kissing you as he settles between your legs. 
Impatient, you start tugging at his clothes trying to get them off. 
"Easy. All in its due time." He says. 
He trails kisses down you jaw to your neck, nipping on his way down. Carefully, he removes your shirt and your bra. You resist the urge to cover yourself from his prying eyes. His gaze is lustful, like a predator eyeing his prey. 
His mouth makes a path between you neck all the way to your breast. With great care he places his mouth on your left nipple, giving it the attention it deserved. With his right hand he massaged your right breast. All synchronous so as to stimulate you and prepare you for what’s coming next. He alternated between breasts, sending little jolts of pleasure through your body. 
With little haste he made his way to your abdomen and found his way to his prize. He nestled himself between your legs inhaling your scent. Without much wait he dived in, lapping at your folds, twisting his tongue on your clit, memorizing your taste. 
You gripped the bed sheets as hard as you could. Your back arching, reaching for him. Your body was alive and electric. He didn't slow down his assault, giving you no space for a deep breath. You moan and beg. You're at odds with yourself. You need release but want to savor the moment.
Spike is observant of the rise and fall of your chest. He tracks your moans and whimpers as he plays with speed and pressure. He has never been this hungry. He decided that he wants to have you wash over him. He wants your release. He inserts two fingers in you while still lapping at your clit. He chases your orgasm with his nimble hands and expert tongue. You swear that your soul is being exorcised out of your body as you crash and spill all over with your release. You're a whimpering, shaking mess. You gasp for air as you slowly land back in your body. 
As you look down you see Spike, still between your legs, grinning. Please but not satisfied, yet. You make a move to stand up, but he's on you faster than you can speak. He claims your mouth, inviting you to taste yourself on his lips. You're drunk on your own taste on his tongue. 
As you passionately make out, Spike makes quick work of his clothes. He's ready to claim you. You're giddy and pliant. 
"Are you gonna be a good girl for me?" He asks.
You nod, unable to form a single word. 
When he finally releases his erection from his pants you're surprised. How are you going to take all of him. He's so big and hard. Spike can read the uncertainty in your face. He cups your cheek gently and places his forehead against yours. 
"It'll be alright. If it's too much just tap me on the arm and I'll stop."
You nod again, determined. 
He teases your entrance and clit by rubbing the head of his cock back and forth. Slowly entering you every now and then but then retreating from your entrance, so as to prepare you for his size. Your whimpers fill the room. You want him so much. He can tell you're getting impatient, so he aligns himself and slowly enters you. He stays still, letting you acclimate to his size. Your breath is labored, you're almost delirious with pleasure. You can't believe this is happening. 
He slowly moves, rocking back and forth, giving you a rhythm to hold on to. You moan in tandem. Your eyes brimming in tears from the pleasure. 
"Look at you, taking me so well." Spike praises you. 
You give a lustful smile, too lost to register his words. 
He picks up the pace. Thrusting in and out, in and out. Giving you what you asked for. Giving you heaven on earth. You beg for him to go deeper. You needed him completely. Spike chuckles and thrusts harder. His movements are rough and long, giving you a chance to feel every vein and curvature on his cock. You push up against him with your hips, meeting his every thrust. He looks down at you, drunk on sex, admiring how beautiful you look out of breath and disheveled. 
He feels your legs shaking. He can tell you're close. 
"Are you gonna come for me, love? I want to hear you say my name. Remember who’s taking you.”
You can barely nod as you chase your orgasm, focusing on his movements. Taking him all into you. Memorizing how he feels and how he makes you feel. 
Your body ceases and you gasp as your orgasm crashes over you, like a tidal wave. Your veins are full of electricity. You’re seeing stars. You hold onto him while you repeat his name, over ad over again. Music to his ears. Spike holds you, never stopping his fierce thrusts. He wants you to remember who is claiming you.
"Good girl" he litters your face with kisses as you work to regain your breath. 
Spike never slows down, chasing his own high. Seeing you spent and tired knowing that he caused it makes him inch closer. He continues to thrust in you, sending aftershock ripples into you as he finds his own release. He fills you to the brim with his seed. He makes you his. 
You both stay connected. Breathing heavy. Satiated and in awe. He eventually pulls out of you with a little shiver. He lays down by your side pulling you close to him. You're both silly with pleasure, spent and happy. 
"Wow." Was all you could say.
"There's more where that came from. Rest up, because we have a lot of catching up to do."
You giggle, giddy for what your future with Spike holds. To think, all of these restless nights craving him and all you had to do was confess your love. You knew once the sun rises you’ll be tired and sore. Something that you’re looking forward to.
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xhoneygirlxx · 8 months
Text
he's not magic
eddie munson x fem!reader
summary: the time of the month has come and Eddie is the only person who can sooth you.
warnings: talks about menstrual cycles/blood. mentions of dying. tooth rotting fluff. Eddie is a cutie pie. pet names used; sweetheart, baby, honey. shitty writing/spelling errors; if you find any plz ignore it lolololololol.
a/n: i'm currently in so much pain from my period and the only thing i want is for someone to coddle me and tell me i'm going to be ok. i hope you guys enjoy this very small thing, it's not much and it's not good but maybe it'll help you feel good on those days when life is shit. love you all <3
--
You're dying, a slow, painful, and mournful death. At this point you stopped caring, stopping all the begging you've done all morning for your life to continue. If this was how you were going out than so be it, you just wished your end had come faster.
You've already bled through two pairs of panties and two pairs of shorts, now left in your trusty period panties and an oversized shirt. Your stomach was bloated to the point it was uncomfortable, your breasts were so swollen that your chest felt like it was going to concave under the weight, and your back felt as if it was going to snap in half at any moment.
It felt like you tried everything, ibuprofen, heating pad, and propping a pillow in between your legs - none of the tricks worked. Now you were left in the fetal position, arms wrapped around your middle and knees pulled to your chest.
For the past how ever many hours you've been moaning out in pain, the stabbing feeling in your uterus just too much to handle. You're sure if someone were to walk in and see you they'd think you were insane and right now you couldn't blame them.
You did look insane, hair wild and matted to your face from all the sweat you've accumulated, voice hoarse and scratchy from all the wounded animal sounds you've made, and your face screwed up in an unflattering way.
Your phone has gone unanswered all day, the only person to have texted you was Eddie. At first it was only tik toks, small comments he thought would make you giggle, and then it turned into him updating you about his day at work, and finally worried questions about if you were okay.
You felt so fucking guilty for not responding, not telling him that you were fine but you just physically couldn't move from your crouched position. This only made you angrier, the fact that your temporarily paralyzed and are restricted from doing the things you need to do.
The fridge sits empty and in need of new groceries, laundry stays piled up by the washer where they wait to be cleaned, and Eddie is waiting for your response worrying about your well being - that is if he hasn't already contacted the national guard to track your location.
Everything is so shitty, the pain, the hurting, the guilt, the frustration. You feel like you're a balloon that's been filled up too much and is waiting to burst at the seams.
You don't have to take long before the heated tears from your eyes fall down, hitting the bridge of your nose, only to land on the pillow beneath your head. It's not a violent cry, at least not yet, just frustrated tears that seem to slip away from their barricade.
You don't even notice the front door of your apartment opening or the sound of Eddie calling for your name, only focusing on the pulsating of your uterus that debilitates your body.
"Fuck, baby I've been worried about you," You don't even turn and look at him, your eyes are still harshly closed. By the sound of his voice you know he's out of breath, brown curls probably wild from the speed of his running.
"Shit, sweetheart, are you okay?" The worry in his voice hits right on the spiderweb crack, shattering you into a million little pieces.
You can't hold it back, the wailing that rips from your throat is something close to bone chilling. Tears streams from your eyes without relent, whole body shaking from the cries that rip from your body.
It doesn't take more than thirty seconds to feel the bed dip as your boyfriend crawls into bed next to you. He doesn't think twice before pulling you in, one arm wrapped around your back and the other soothing down your hair on the side of your head.
"It's okay, baby. M'here, you're okay." Eddie coos and it's like music to your ears.
The warmth from his body fills you in a way your heating pad couldn't. Even with the mucus that fills your nose you catch a whiff of his scent, smoke, pine, and outside -undoubtedly him. His calloused hand runs soothingly up and down your back, allowing your bones to relax into his touch.
Eddie doesn't have to ask, he knows you better than you know yourself, and the way your scrunched up on your bed and crying he knows that you've been battling your pain all day.
"Sweetheart, you have to breath. Can you do that for me? Take one big deep breath, s'all I want, okay?"
You nod your head against his chest, following the way his chest moves as he demonstrates for you. Between hiccupped breaths and streaming tears, you allow your lungs to fill up with as much air as you can take in, releasing it right after in one long exhale.
"Good job, baby. Did such a good job f'me." Eddie's being soft with you, a side of him he only allows you to see and no one else.
You let his praise melt over you, soaking it right up like the plants in a drought. For the first time since you woke up you feel lighter, something you only feel when Eddie's by you. The cramps that have been going nonstop have finally subsided, the presence of your boyfriend scaring them away.
"It hurt so bad, Eds. S'really bad today." Your voice is shaky, as if one wrong move and you can break out into another sob.
"I know, honey, but it's okay. I'm gonna take care of you, kay? I'm gonna make it all better."
You both know that he has no control over what your body decides to do but just the promise alone has your worries easing away. Your body relaxes into him, your knees slowly falling down to their normal position until your laying right up against him.
"On a scale from one to ten, where are you at?" You take a moment to think about it, really evaluating the squeezing of your organs.
"Was a ten but now it's like a seven."
Eddie hums, his hand still soothing up and down your back. A small pause settles over his words, like he's trying to wrack his brain for the next action he's going to make so you can feel better.
"How 'bout you get some rest, then when you get up we'll get you something to eat? Sound okay?" You nod again, too tired to form any sort of response.
Eddie acknowledges your response with a kiss to the top of your head, making you hum in content when he does. It doesn't take long for the tiredness of your body to settle over you, quiet snores coming from your nose in no time.
Even if his arms fall asleep and his back feels stiff, Eddie stays there with you, soothing you in your sleep to ensure that your pain stays at bay. When you do wake up he's right there, waiting for you with some water and more medicine before helping you into the shower.
He's not magic and he has no idea what to do when it comes to woman's health but Eddie Munson will be damned if a period makes his girl cry like that again.
---
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steddiehyperfixation · 9 months
Text
don't you forget about me (part seven)
(part one)(part two)(part three)(part four)(part five)(part six)
Eddie takes back everything he’d thought before; sex dreams are so much worse actually, especially when you wake up to the subject of them holding your hand. His face turns bright red the second his eyes open and land on Steve. He sits upright immediately, bunching up the blankets over his lap. 
The pounding of his heart - aka the rapid beeping of the heart monitor - alerts Steve who snaps awake instantly and tightens his grip on Eddie’s hand as he asks with urgent concern, “Are you alright? Did you have another nightmare?”
“No, no, definitely not a nightmare.” Eddie’s cheeks burn, feels the flush reach his ears and down his neck too. He clears his throat. “Just, uh- just a weird dream, that’s all. Not bad, just…weird, yeah. I’m fine.”
Steve relaxes. “Okay.” He hesitates, then adds hopefully, “Was it, uh- Do you think it was a memory?” 
Eddie shakes his head. “Definitely not.” 
“What makes you so sure?” Steve asks. 
“It was fantasy.” Eddie’s eyes rake over Steve, and he tries not to wonder just how accurate his dream was. 
Steve raises a skeptical eyebrow. “Fantasy?” 
“Yeah, fantasy. So unless you have some truly awesome news to give me about the existence of dragons,” Eddie lies (better to have Steve think he’d dreamt of riding on a dragon rather than that he’d dreamt of Steve riding him), “I’m pretty sure it was just a regular old dream.”
“Oh.” Steve's face falls; and Eddie almost wants to take it all back and tell a different lie, that it had been a memory, but he doesn't. “Yeah, no, I've yet to run into any dragons yet, I’m sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry,” Eddie says, running his thumb over Steve's hand. “I wish it was a memory. I mean- I wish I had more memories, and I'm sorry that I don't. I'm sorry that makes you so sad.” 
The apology only makes Steve look sadder. “Oh, Eddie, no, it's okay.” He shakes his head, squeezes Eddie's hand. “Don't apologize for that. It's not like you chose to forget.”
“I know. I’m still sorry though,” Eddie responds quietly. His dream-sparked lust has since curbed into something softer, inevitably. He looks into those downturned and devastating brown puppy dog eyes. “I didn't choose to forget, but I’m still the reason you're sad - I know that, so I'm sorry.” 
It's Steve this time who mutters “You don't have to worry about me so much, Eds, I'm alright,” and it's Steve this time who clasps Eddie’s hand in both of his and brushes a kiss over his knuckles. 
It sends a rush through Eddie's whole body to feel Steve's lips against his skin - in real life, that is. Heat rises in his cheeks again, heart rate kicking up for the millionth time. “Uh- yeah, uh, o-okay,” he stutters, can’t seem to form a coherent thought or sentence right now. He pulls his hand away and runs his fingers through his hair instead, changing the subject, “Um. Are you, uh- are you sticking around today?” 
“Yeah.” Though there’s still a trace of sadness behind his eyes, there’s something like flirtation there too as Steve smirks and says, “I’m all yours today.” 
God. Eddie really is done for, isn’t he.
It’s no wonder, then, that after spending another full day with Steve, another full day of being subjected to Steve’s bittersweet smiles and friendly banter and (that is, if Eddie’s not just being delusional, which is a very real and probable possibility) the occasional flirty comment, Eddie’s dreams soon turn sappy again:
They were sitting in some restaurant, in a corner booth, holding hands behind a propped up menu. Steve was looking gorgeous in a tastefully tight polo and perfectly styled hair streaked with gold, and he looked at Eddie with that warm little smile that always made his heart glow. It overflowed; Eddie almost couldn't take it. 
He said, “I know you said you wanted to do things right, so after how many dates can I ask you to be my boyfriend?” 
Steve's smile grew, eyes wide with a sort of wonder and disbelief and anticipation that was vaguely reminiscent of a child on christmas morning. “I, uh- I think the third date is just fine.” 
“Okay, good.” Eddie grinned. He caught Steve's other hand and held it right there out in the open without a care who saw or heard. “Because I like you so so much; you’re the best person I know, Stevie, and I wanna lock this down before someone else comes along and snatches you up. I want to be your boyfriend more than anything, and I want you to be mine, if you want that too. So, what do you say?” 
Steve must not’ve cared who saw or heard either because he immediately lunged across the table to kiss him, holding Eddie's hands tight as he pressed their lips together fervently. 
Eddie certainly wasn't about to complain. He indulged the kiss for a good long few moments before he pulled back to double check, “So that was a yes, right?” 
“Yeah, dumbass,” Steve laughed, fond and bright and beautiful. “That was absolutely a yes.” 
That ache is back when Eddie wakes up, the wanting, the wishing. 
He thinks this dream falls somewhere in between the events of the last two, like his brain is turning this fantasy into a whole connected narrative now, building and fleshing out this wishful story of him and Steve. Unless… No. Eddie can't let himself think like that. If these dreams have been memories, if that had really been the type of relationship they'd had, surely Steve would've said something. It's not unusual for Eddie's daydreams to become so involved and become entire worlds. This is, as he tells himself for the third time now, just another case of his overactive imagination. 
Steve doesn't ask about his dreams again, and he soon leaves for work and isn't around much that day, but that still doesn't stop Eddie's mind from continuing the fiction when he falls asleep holding Steve's hand, as always now, that night: 
Eddie sat on Steve's couch, his arm slung casually around Steve's shoulders as Steve leaned against him and idly played with the rings on Eddie's other hand while a movie played on the TV in front of them. It was Steve's turn to pick the movie, and there was a time when Eddie would've rolled his eyes and scoffed at the suggestion of watching The Breakfast Club, but it had just come out on VHS and Steve was so excited about it and Eddie was more than happy now to sit just there and watch Steve watch it. Because Steve was smiling and humming along to the songs on the soundtrack, and Eddie felt, suddenly, with such simple certainty that this is where he was meant to be, that this is who he was going to spend the rest of his life with. 
Something must've changed in his expression, in his stare, because Steve soon rolled his head to the side to look at Eddie and asked with an amused (and vaguely confused) smile, “What?” 
“Nothing, I just-” Eddie shook his head, pressed a kiss to Steve's temple and then said like it was the easiest thing in the world, “I think I've fallen in love with you.” 
Steve laughed as if this great big relief just bubbled free from his chest. “Oh thank god,” he said. “I’m in love with you too.” 
Eddie believed him, knew it with the same certainty as before. They shared gentle smiles and a sweet, chaste kiss. Steve slipped an arm around Eddie's waist and curled closer against his side. He went right back to watching the movie and Eddie went right back to watching Steve. And that was all there was to it. 
Clear, effortless, uncomplicated. Because how could they be anything else but in love with each other? 
Eddie sighs when he blinks awake. His eyes slowly shift to the side and he looks at Steve strangely for a few silent moments. 
Steve asks, “What?” 
Eddie's cheeks tinge pink, and Steve wonders, not for the first time, what Eddie had been dreaming about. He gets a devastating sense of deja vu when Eddie shakes his head and says, “Nothing.” But it stops there where Steve's memory doesn't. 
Although, Eddie is still considering him in that weird, just short of familiar way, and Steve wonders - again, not for the first time - if maybe Eddie just might remember too. But surely he'd say something if he did. 
Eddie taps his fingers against Steve's hand and asks after a long minute. “Are you gonna be around tomorrow?”
“I can be.” Steve is scheduled to work tomorrow, but he'd call out sick in an instant if Eddie asked him to.
“Okay, because, uh, that's when the doctor’s gonna have me try to walk and when they're gonna teach me and Wayne how to take care of my wounds at home for when I’m discharged, and I, um, I want you to be there for that too,” Eddie says. 
Steve finds himself a little surprised by this. “You really want me there?” 
“Yeah, I mean, If you don't mind,” Eddie starts, rambling like he's suddenly scared Steve might refuse, “I know it's not the most fun thing to be here for, but I just figured whatever the doctor tells us tomorrow you should know too, just in case, you know, like I might need you one day and Wayne can't be around all the time and-” 
“I’ll be there, Eddie,” Steve assures him, squeezing his hand. “Of course I’ll be there.”
And so he is. He calls out of work the next day, much to Keith’s annoyance, and stands there as the room fills with doctors and nurses and Eddie's uncle Wayne. 
Eddie's mobility is tested first. He makes a soft grunt of pain as he's instructed to swing his legs over the side of the bed, and then another when the doctor taps his knee and his injured leg kicks with the assessment of his reflexes. Satisfied with that response, the doctor moves on to pressing various pressure points on Eddie’s leg to measure how much he can feel (and Steve tries very hard not to feel so weirdly irrationally jealous at watching the doctor feel up Eddie's leg). After a few more soft painful hisses that let the doctor know Eddie's nerve endings are intact - or whatever it was she was testing - he's told to try and stand. He's understandably apprehensive, hesitant. The doctor and his uncle help coax him off the bed; the competent and the familiar. Steve hangs back still, sure he's not needed for this. 
But the second Eddie attempts to put pressure on his injured limb and he stumbles, his hand shoots out and it's Steve’s name he calls, as if on instinct. And, on instinct, Steve is there in a second to grab his hand and assist in steadying him. “I've got you,” he murmurs, guiding Eddie to the walker that's been set out for him. Eddie limps a few more feet with the help of the walker and the encouragement of Steve’s (hopefully) comforting hand on his shoulder until the doctor calls it and tells Eddie he can rest again. 
Once Eddie makes it back onto the bed, collapsing back into the pillows with a haggard sigh, the doctor and nurses immediately crowd him again, try to go straight into the next step of redressing his wounds. 
“Give him a second,” Steve snaps, protectively holding onto Eddie's hand and leaning over him. “Can't you see he's exhausted?” 
The doctor shoots the only other proper adult in the room a weary look. 
“They know what they're doing, kid.” Wayne's heavy hand lands on Steve's shoulder, both a reassurance and an alert for him to back off. 
“I’m okay, Stevie,” Eddie adds. He gives Steve a tired smile and squeezes his hand before prying it out of Steve's hold. “It's alright.” 
Steve reluctantly relents and steps back to give the medical professionals space to continue. 
Eddie's shirt is pushed up so the bandages on his chest and stomach are accessible as the nurses begin to explain and demonstrate the process of taking care of the injuries. Steve watches, listens intently, wants to absorb every ounce of information so he can best tend to Eddie if need be. Then his eyes flick up and he accidentally makes dead eye contact with Eddie who seems to realize then just how vulnerable and exposed he is right now because his cheeks burn red and his heart rate suddenly increases. 
The nurses don't seem to be too worried about this - if anything, they exchange knowing glances with everyone else in the room except Eddie and Steve before they continue their demonstration. Steve isn't worried either anymore - if anything, he finally resigns himself fully to the fact, the irrefutable proof, that Robin was right and Eddie really does have a schoolboy crush on him again. 
Steve does his best to keep paying attention, but in the background his mind is spinning and his heart aching. 
On the one hand it’s kind of sweet to know Eddie's feelings are not gone completely, that some level of attraction still swirls to the surface even through the empty space in his memory. And Steve has been indulging that crush the past couple days, little comments of flirtation just to feel like he still has Eddie in some way, just to see the reaction and have some evidence that Eddie still feels something at all for him. (Stupid, selfish.)
But on the other hand it is just a crush. Eddie used to love him, but now that's halved; and that's a very specific kind of agony. 
Steve’s not sure how much longer he can handle this. 
~
Something passed between them when they made eye contact; something sweet and sad flitted across Steve's expression, as it often does, but he looked away when Eddie blushed and has been avoiding his eyes again since. 
When the nurses are done showing them how to wrap him up, Steve retreats, saying kindly, though still not quite looking at him, “I'm gonna go get you some water, alright?” 
“Oh, yeah, thanks.” Eddie smiles gratefully after him. 
“Your boyfriend seems sweet,” Nurse Katie comments, carefully, as she secures the last of the fresh bandages. 
“Excuse me?” Eddie coughs, chokes on his own spit, spluttering, “I’m- he's not- we’re- it’s- um. He’s not my boyfriend.” 
“Oh, sorry,” the nurse is quick to apologize. “I didn't mean to assume, I just thought since he's always in here holding your hand, even before you woke up-” 
“We're friends,” Eddie says shortly. He feels a little dizzy at what she's suggesting and would really rather her stop talking. 
“Alright, my mistake.” Katie backs off the subject. 
Steve returns then anyways, further killing that topic of conversation. He hands a cup of water to Eddie, who takes it with another muttered “thanks” and starts gulping it down while the doctor goes off on some spiel about the process of having him discharged and more tests they’ll have to do tomorrow. Eddie’s not paying attention. He’s too tired. 
Not long after that, the doctor and nurses file out of the room, and Wayne stands to leave too. “I’m glad the two of you are getting close again,” he mentions to Steve and Eddie on his way out. “You were good for each other.” 
Whatever that means. 
Eddie doesn’t have the brainpower left to contemplate that. Being poked and prodded and trying to walk took a lot out of him. He’s exhausted, achy all over. It’s barely even late enough to be dinner time yet, but he could honestly just pass out right now. He sets his finished water cup on the bedside table and his now free hand reaches, once again, for Steve. 
“Tired?” Steve asks as he catches Eddie’s hand. 
“Mhmm.” Eddie settles against his pillows, closing his eyes. He adds in a sleepy mumble, “’M glad you were here today.”
“Me too.”
He feels Steve’s lips slide gently across the back of his hand, and then Eddie slides gently into sleep. 
Immediately, though, his dreams are not gentle; for the first time since he’s been falling asleep with Steve’s hand in his, Eddie dreams of the bats: 
Eddie was in that hell dimension, the scene all black and red and dotted with bats. But he wasn’t alone. Nancy Wheeler and Robin Buckley were there too, the three of them fending off the creatures with boat oars, and Steve- Steve was on the ground; two bats gnawed on his sides, another had its tail wrapped around his neck. Eddie’s heart was in his throat, roaring in his ears and pumping pure fear and adrenaline through his veins. He couldn’t save him; all he could do was try his best to keep more bats from joining in on the feast. 
Steve, however, seemed perfectly capable of saving himself. He managed to sink his teeth into the bat tail around his neck, getting it to let go. Eddie couldn’t see everything, too busy whacking away more incoming bats, but when the last of this fleet of creatures was fought off, Eddie turned back around to find Steve on his feet now, holding a bat by the tail and slamming it against the ground far more times than necessary. He watched as Steve stomped down on the bat’s neck and tore its head from its body. Blood from the bat’s tail hung from Steve’s lips in a thick, dark drip before he spat it into the dirt.
Eddie stared, jaw dropped, pounding heart pumping an entirely different sensation through his veins now. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life.” 
Steve gave him a bloodstained grin and Eddie’s knees felt weak. He would’ve dropped to the ground in front of him right then and there if- 
“Keep it in your pants, Munson.” Robin shoulder-checked him as she walked past. “At least until we get the hell out of hell.” 
Eddie settled instead for sidling up to Steve and, after taking a second to make sure he was alright, whispering low and close to Steve’s ear, “If we were anywhere else and you weren’t injured right now…” The muttered end of that sentence was something so filthy it made Steve’s face burn red, and he laughed. 
“Freak,” Steve said affectionately as he smacked a kiss to Eddie’s cheek. 
Eddie was quick to turn his head and catch Steve’s lips, locking them together in something searing and intense. 
“Boys!” Nancy snapped impatiently from a few feet ahead, which startled them apart. “Seriously? Time and place, come on.” 
Both Eddie and Steve laughed as they followed after the girls. 
Eddie wakes up a little bit disoriented from that dream. He doesn’t know what to call it: Was it a nightmare or not? Was it a memory or another fantasy? The lines are blurred and Eddie finds himself confused. 
Steve must’ve seen this on his face because he asks, “Everything alright?” 
“Yeah…” Eddie answers slowly. “I had a dream about the Upside Down…but it wasn’t quite a nightmare, I don’t think. I’m just- I’m not sure if it was a memory or not.” He hesitates, then decides screw it, he might as well try to get some sort of clarification on the reality of some details of his dream. “Did you…rip a bat in half with your bare hands?”
“I did, yeah,” Steve confirms. His expression shifts, sparking with something like hope. 
“And, uh, did I tell you that was the hottest thing I’d ever seen?”
“You did, yeah.” 
“Okay, cool,” Eddie says, reeling. “Just checking.”  
Steve is watching him almost expectantly, but when Eddie doesn’t say anything more on the subject, his face falls into something more like disappointment.
(final part is here!) taglist (CLOSED): @romanticdestruction @daydreamsandcrashingwaves @paintsplatteredandimperfect @hallucinatedjosten @mugloversonly @estrellami-1 @alongcomesaspider @thatonebadideapanda @tell-me-a-secret-a-nice-one @dragonmama76 @wxrmland @nuggies4life @sirsnacksalot @myguiltyartpleasure @lolawonsstuff @marklee-blackmore @vinteraltus @sebastiansstanswhore @0happyeverafter0 @scarlet-malfoy @hotluncheddie @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @emsgoodthinkin @alyelf @warlordess @stevesbipanic @lil-gremlin-things @rockandrolodex @badcaseofcasey @bat-outta-hel @fandomcartographer @manda-panda-monium @littlewildflowerkitten @giopandaonice @mightbeasleep @queenie-ofthe-void @krazyperson @worldofshea @marvel-ous-m @tartarusknight @a-little-unsteddie @xenon-demon @goodolefashionedloverboi @xxsky-shockxx @mc-i-r @bookbinderbitch @aspenshade88 @slowandsteddie @thedragonsaunt @daydreaming-mood @space-invading-pigeon @irregular-child @a-lovely-craziness (taglist continued in replies; please lmk if you'd like to be removed from this list. if you didn't make the taglist but still wanna follow along, you can follow the tag #dyfamsteddiefic to keep up with new updates!)
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roronoa-roro · 2 years
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ᴘʀᴀɴᴋ #3 "ꜱᴇɴᴅɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ɴᴜᴅᴇꜱ" !!!
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CW: nudes¡ suggestive language¡ mentions of sex¡
Pairing: (all post timeskip) suna, atsumu, osamu, ginjima x gn!reader
Network: @tokyometronetwork
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ꜱᴜɴᴀ ʀɪɴᴛᴀʀᴏ
Guaranteed returns. All favors are returned x1000.
Send him a partial nude and you will get a dick pic within 3 milliseconds. Send him a thirst trap and an audio capture of him moaning your name is sent back.
Suna prides himself on his ability to collect quality material, so it's no surprise he's so very enthusiastic about this nudes exchange business.
Has pretty lights set up around his room just for the sake of clicking aesthetic dick pics.
There's even a special folder on his desktop dedicated to you. All these frisky pics and videos are stored there. He even names it his 'personal pornhub'
Comes home with hundreds of nasty fantasies filled in his head. Trust me he's created a very nice simulation of all the things he'd love to do to you.
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ᴍɪʏᴀ ᴀᴛꜱᴜᴍᴜ
You just know this motherfucker is choking on his spit every time you send a pic that's even closely revealing.
This one time you send him a suggestive (only to dirty minded people) picture of your newly done nails holding your glass just for fun and next day videos of Miya Atsumu, star athlete clumsily fumbling with his phone are trending on the internet.
I'm really really sorry for this one but he totally responds in Adam Levine style😭😭😭 he's embarrassing you know it but you love him and that shitty replying style is something you and him have to work on.
He comes home all needy and whiny after that. Needs all the love and affection— much much more than usual.
He might not admit it but every time his phone pings and it's a message from you he pulls in a deep breath to stabilize his heart and be ready.
Atsumu is too much of an innocent boy for that cocky front he puts up.
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ᴍɪʏᴀ ᴏꜱᴀᴍᴜ
Now this guy is a totally different story. Unlike his brother, although equally cocky, he has the guts to back it up.
You once sent him a nude while on a double dinner date just to see his reaction and this mf looked at the picture and smirked, licking his lip. Never tell him how flustering you found it you'd just be digging your own grave.
He's an observant guy, he knows all your preferences– from the food to the positions, so it's not a huge surprise to you when he sends you detailed, nasty, toe-curling replies.
Lowkey think he could run his own pornblog and we would still follow him like dick hungry bitches.
Sometimes, he would send you unprompted random messages while you are at work. Like sirrrr, you get it. He knows you very well but it's none of his business to ensure you're melting in your chair at work thinking about him.
But that's not all. The real nastiness starts when you return home, or his hotel. This man is filthy. And he's gonna pull you down with him whether you like it or not.
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ʜɪᴛᴏꜱʜɪ ɢɪɴᴊɪᴍᴀ
You were sorely mistaken if you thought he was an innocent baby boy who had to be introduced to the art of sending nudes gently💀💀💀
He is the devil. This man laughs at you and calls you weak when you send him a partial nude.
The insult digs deeper when he sends you a beautiful, Pinterest worthy image of his pants pulled down just enough to show his perfect v-line. The sunlight kissing his pretty skin doesn't help either.
This ensues a nudes war. Who can click the better nude.
You both give each other occasional runs for your money. But it's usually him powning you most of the time. This guy has some serious aesthetics.
But the funny thing is, although you both forget the original intention of sending nudes, you both develop a cute and adorable sort of bonding activity out of it.
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Lost the taglist so i won't tag anybody and this isn't gonna be a regular writing phase anyways so🙏🙏🙏 also drop some holy water in the comments and reblogs plej i need it I've been thinking very nasty thoughts abt a certain white haired sensei from naruto
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knoxic · 2 months
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How to be a High Lady? part 2
Eris Vanserra x Mate!Reader
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Summary: Reader's first meeting as a HL, Rhysand makes some comments and reader chews him out, then smut🤭
wc: 2k
warnings: Feysand slander, cursing and a shit ton of dialogue
a/n: the way there's so little of Eris here...sorry😔 but I'll make up for it if I make a part 3, with just the two of them, maybe their domestic lives and doing High Lord & Lady things in Autumn, idk maybe smut?
part 1
How they met
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Their morning was slow, starting with lazy cuddles in bed followed by an easy breakfast. Her daily meditation helped gather her thoughts and feelings about the meeting ahead, when she focused on it, she could see flashes of messy handwriting and a dark room.
Dressing for the meeting took longer than she'd expected, Eris being the last one to finish so he could match her dress, it had turned into a habit now for him to combine his vest with her dresses or corsets.
After getting through her first meeting, their arrival this time was easier, not caring if people were staring at her or whispering behind her back, she knew today would be tough and her mind was set straight. They were the last ones to arrive, which was weird, she'd made sure they weren't late. The meeting started smoothly, but it didn't remain that way.
"I'm just saying, it'd be better if we cooperated..." Feyre chimed in when no one agreed with Rhysand's words. After hearing those contradictory words she couldn't not intervene.
"No offense, Feyre, but I don't think you're the best person to say that." She said, hoping that it wouldn't cause Rhysand to come for her neck yet. Feyre was stunned for a moment, clearly taken aback.
"And why is that?"
"We can't cooperate if the other part is deceitful."
"Are you calling my High Lady a liar?" Cassian roughly uttered.
"No." Her voice was steady, not showing any traces of fear, because this time she was, in fact, fearless. "I'm saying, how can we know if you're trustworthy when most of your court doesn't even trust you? How can we trust that you won't ruin our courts, like you've done before."
"Again you go speaking of my court." Rhysand growled. "You've been High Lady for a day and think you know everything. Tell me, you seem so sure of what goes beyond my wards... have you been in my court before?" Every word he spoke carried an generous amount of venom.
"No, and I have no desire to do so."
"Then how the fuck do you know so much? Are you a fucking witch or what?" His eyebrows danced showing how pissed he was, apparently not knowing everything seemed to have that effect on him.
The possibilities of what could happen depending on what she responded were running through her head, her first response would be to deny but if she did and they figured it out, which they probably would eventually, she'd be a treacherous witch and that was...
"Yes. I am a witch." The silence in the room was deafening, her ears were ringing, "And so far, my powers have only showed me objects in need of help, faes, humans... courts. I do what I can to help them–"
"I've lived in Night Court for centuries, I helped them, I made things better, I ruled them, you have no right to suddenly decide the way I rule my court is not enough, you don't know." Rhysand growled.
"But I do," her words were firm, matching his tone, "They're not my people and its not my court, but they need someone to care for them, most people in Hewn City have never seen the sky above their heads because they're trapped under a fucking mountain. Have it ever occurred to you that there may be innocent people living there? Children, like your son–"
"Watch it–" Azriel spat. She changed courses.
"Have it occurred to you that maybe they despise you because you never showed them empathy? Instead of trying to gain their approval by providing you could be a good High Lord, you locked them up." She never faltered, every word was spoken loud and clear.
Night's High Lord was fuming, if yesterday she thought his eyes promised death, now they were death. Sharp pain ran across the thick walls she built around her mind, as if claws had just taken a hold of her brain, causing her eyebrows to furrowed as a sharp gasp left her mouth. Thankfully, she spent years working on her mind and everything beyond, and with a strong spell to protect her body, it wouldn't be so easy for him to get through her mind.
"Rhysand!" Eris hissed, his hand coming to rest on her shoulder. She needed to act before Eris attacked him, it wouldn't be pretty.
"If you wanted to see it for yourself, you could've just asked." She teased, but it was true, she would've showed him if he wanted her to. She opened her walls and launched him every memories she had of his people, every small shot her gift had shown her of them.
Rhysand's mouth twitched, his frown deepening. She wasn't sure if it was from being unable to break his way through her mind or because the image she told him about was true. Feyre's expression soured and she could imagine that they were having a mind conversation right at that moment, maybe he showed her the images too.
"That's not true" She said. Was that not enough?
"But it is."
"Certainly you've been wrong before." Rhysand uttered, his voice close to a growl.
"No. If it's shown to me, it's true." If they still didn't believe, she might as well tell them how it works, "If I see something, it's because it has happened or will happen soon, I'm able to differentiate them and when I can prevent them from happening, I do. What I showed you has already happened– has been happening for centuries."
"Have you seen things from other courts?" Tarquin's voice was hesitant, "Summer?" He eyes the other High Lords, all of them silently agreeing with his question.
"Well, yes. I saw Spring's downfall but it was too late, and–" Eris' hot hand on her arm made her look at him, searching for any traces that could show he wanted to maintain secrecy, she found none. "Autumn's genocide."
"That's why you took over..." Tamlin whispered, looking at Eris who gave a simple, almost imperceptible, nod in response.
"How long have you been seeing our court in your..."
"Memories. They're memories, from other people, from now and from the future. A couple years, at first I tried to gather information about what happened there but... it was well hidden."
"Oh–"
"Why'd you never say anything? If you were oh so worried about them." Mor sarcastically spoke. For someone who knows what is like living there, she's embarrassingly hypocritical.
"Would it have changed anything? By the time I stopped looking for them, Feyre was already here. Things changed–"
"And she became High Lady, did you not think you could have talked to her, if you're so sure I wouldn't have done anything." She should be cautious, but then, she had been playing with fire for over a century now. She was almost vibrating with the need to speak what she really thought, but her neck was at risk.
"What, little witchy lost her words? Or did your gift make an appearance?" Rhysand smirked at her. Fuck it.
"Feyre was barely fae at the time and being honest... she doesn't even have that much credibility does she?" His smirk fell, the room filled with dense darkness, hands tried to grasp at her but were pushed back by the wards she'd silently set around herself and Eris, knowing they'd come for him too. It was ancient magic, not that easy to break.
"Rhysand! Stop!" A chorus of commands for him to control himself. Eris' and Helion's power lit up the spacious room, the latter using his powers to hold and push Rhysand back, extremely bright light making the room clear again, after all, he was in his home court. In the midst of darkness, Eris had pulled her to her feet to stand behind him, their hands wrapped around the other's waist.
"If you can't control yourselves I suggest you leave, go fight somewhere else!" Helion shouted.
"Helion, I think this is a matter for our meeting, if she knows things, we should hear." Kallias spoke calmly, not trying to set any of us off, he glanced in Rhysand's direction, who was being held back by Feyre with a hand on his arm. Helion seemed to ponder Kallias words, eyeing her and Rhysand and their mates.
"Fine, behave, or I'll ban all of you."
"You can't possibly think I'll just stand and whatch her talking about my mate like that!" Rhysand spat incredulous, Feyre tapped his arm to gather his attention.
"Let's listen to what she has to say." Feyre said, looking back at her friends, trying to hold them back, Mor leaned back against Feyre's chair, where she'd been since they arrived, she'd gladly stand back and watch as Cassian and Azriel ripped Eris to pieces.
"Bullshit, obviously." Their General uttered, still staring her down until Eris blocked his view of her.
"Alright, continue..." Rhysand spoke, staring her up and down before sitting back in his chair, Cassian watched him before stepping back, Azriel still glared at her as he did the same. Clearly Rhysand had just told them to back off. "Go on. What were you saying about my High Lady?" She calmly pulled back from Eris, gently grasping his hand and pulling him so they could sit back down too, taking a deep breath before signing their 'enemies' certificate.
"Your own 'Inner Circle' doesn't respect her commands, how would she change the way a whole city runs?" Rhysand banged a hand against the arm of his chair while Feyre's mouth fell open, his growl echoing through the room before he lunged forward.
"Out, now!" Helion stood up and pointed to the door, "Now, Rhysand."
Rhysand was practically foaming when he left, snatching a hand around Feyre's waist before winnowing out, the other three following quickly after giving her nasty looks, if she didn't know them, she'd think they were cursing her. The tense atmosphere in the room was rough to bear.
"Are you alright?" A soft voice asked her. Viviane.
"Yes."
"That was really brave, badass." She smiled.
"Brave indeed, I can't tell if you're lucky or just that powerful. I don't know how you're still alive..." Thesan laughed incredulous.
"She wouldn't defy him if she didn't know she could take it." Eris smirked, squeezing her hand in reassurance. While she was bragging about her, she noticed Helion with his fingers massaging his temples.
"We can leave if you want, I'm sorry if we made you uncomfortable," talking a look around the room she noticed all of them looking at her, "any of you."
"I think Rhys needed someone to throw the shit he does to his face, none of us were really able to do it, you did, and it was nice to watch." Tamlin said, amusement written all over his face.
"I agree, the Inner Circle has done and said things we don't agree, but any time we tried to mention it they'd just turn the situation over, would pretend it didn't happen that way or that it wasn't so bad. Rhysand and Feyre both need to see that they're not as good and right as they think they are, someone to humble them could be of use." Tarquin smiled lightly and gave her a wink.
"Do they really not respect her? I had seen signs of it but... they seem so close that I just brushed it off." Helion waved a hand while speaking.
"Is not that they don't respect her, I think they just don't take her seriously. I mean, compared to them she is still a child, she grew up too soon but she's still immature. I don't know why Rhysand made her a High Lady but it doesn't change the fact that, he gave her the title, she didn't know anything about being a High Lady and barely knew anything about our world. Maybe she'd make a good one if she knew what to do, but she just sits and lets her judgment be set by what Rhysand says." She seemed to have a talent to make people go quiet. After a moment of silence, everyone pondering what they just heard, Day's High Lord spoke.
"You're definitely something."
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