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luvrxbunny · 9 months ago

Text

churn

pairing: knight!Miguel O’Hara x princess!reader

summary: Your royal knight helps you in a way your fiancé never could.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, reader has hair that can be pushed over her shoulder, reader has visible collarbones, infidelity, miguel seems to have a little thing for readers collarbones.. Idk, f! masturbation, IMPORTANT LINK (ill be refering to this throughout the fic)

wc: 4.9k

a/n: i don't even think this is good guys cry i just needed to post something but i tried ilya 🫶🏾 (not proofread one bit)

He hated this part of the day.

Miguel isn’t allowed to feel many things, he is even more limited in who he can feel them for, but he hates this part of the day. When you finally finish your chores and duties. You always tell him that you’re not going to get excited this time, that you know he’s busy but he always sees the excitement build in your face as you search tirelessly for your fiancé.

Ser Isaac was one of the more well-known lords of the land. He’s known for his outstanding looks and entertaining charm. Everyone has heard of his endless generosity, empathy, and care for others. But in Miguel’s experience. He’s a selfish dick.

He doesn’t hate Ser Isaac, of course not, that’d be treason. He is allowed to hate his actions, however; the way he neglects you. He hates how Ser Isaac is using you for your position, stature, and admiration throughout the kingdom. He spends all his time sucking up to your father, thanking him for his daughter's hand in marriage rather than worshipping the daughter for tolerating his artificiality.

You round the corner to find your father and fiancé at the bar, once again. This is where they’ve been for the past few weeks. You’d asked them to try to spend less time together, to make some room for you, but they both laughed you off and continued their boisterous chatter.

Miguel watches your smile melt off your face as you take in their inebriated state. You turn to him for a moment with a small smile, knowing he’ll give you the same pitying look you get every time this happens. It’s a small comfort; knowing that at least one person in your life cares about you, even if that person is your assigned guard.

You approach the pair of drunks with a brave smile. “Have you saved any for me, my love?” The two men pause to look at you before slowly turning back to one another and breaking out into a fit of laughter. Miguel can see your expression flush into one of embarrassment and anger. You open your mouth to speak again but their laughter raises in volume, drowning out anything you would’ve said.

Miguel sees a heartbreaking sadness flash over your face before you compose yourself.

In his mind though, it’s the same as you begging him for help, so he steps in. He moves from his corner by the doorway to stand at your side. His presence gives you a small boost of confidence and commands the men to give you more than 3% of their attention.

Your fiancé is the first one to quit his laughter and sober up a bit. He takes a deep breath and rolls his eyes at Miguel’s presence. “Is he necessary?” He doesn’t even look at Miguel, his eyes don’t flicker in his direction once. Miguel does the same, keeping his eyes forward and surveying his surroundings. He can’t help the slight smirk that worms its way onto his face, however.

You stand up straighter at the acknowledgment of your muscle. “Miguel is mine, therefore he stays by my side.” Miguel’s eyelids flutter and flicker to you for a moment. He tries his best to ignore the swirling in his stomach but his breathing stutters. “I’d like to confer with you about your schedule, dear.”

Your fiancé smirks maliciously at you before changing it into a faux kind smile. “Of course, sweetheart. I’ll make so much time for you.” He stands up, looming over you but not taller than Miguel. “When I’m finished organizing all of our affairs, paying all your maids.” His voice gains more and more venom as he stalks closer to you.

Your confident gaze is gone, now looking at the wall rather than your soon-to-be husband. “Yes, dear. I’ll spend time with you when I’m done with cleaning your messes.” His voice raises to a shout, screaming right in your face as your eyes stay on the ground. Miguel’s hand goes to rest on the hilt of his sword, just as a reminder of what could happen if Ser Isaac decides to do more than yell. But that negatively catches his attention.

He scoffs loudly and turns to Miguel, who still isn't meeting his threatening eyes. “You think to strike me? You?” Miguel hears you take a breath, like you’re preparing to speak up for him but he can’t allow that. “I only mean to protect the Princess, Ser.” Miguel keeps his smirk from crawling onto his face this time, he keeps his expression stoic and straight ahead.

“Oh? OH? I’ll I have you know that I shall do whatever-” He raises his hand. “I’d like-”

It comes down toward you “with MY wife.” Miguel grabs his wrist, stopping all movement. You watch his grip tighten before your eyes, so tightly you swear you can hear Isaac’s bones cracking.

“You will not. Not in my presence, or ever, if I can help it.” You’ll never forget the look on his face. The pure shock on his face, the look of disgust and disdain. You don’t even want to think of Miguel’s face. The anger, and unwavering confidence. He exudes this certain dominance over Isaac that you can’t help but admire.

Isaac’s face shows a look of embarrassment once he sees how easily Miguel can hold him back, so he scoffs and goes back to his seat, grumbling about your ‘big oaf of a guard.’ He complains about the both of you to your father as if you aren’t even in the room. You’re not too sad about it, you’ve grown a bit used to his rejection, and it doesn't sting as bad.

A clock in the corner of the room catches your eye and excitement runs through you with a soft gasp. Miguel looks over to you and follows your gaze to see the time, 3:00 PM. The swirling in his stomach returns as you clear your throat and begin to leave the room. Although you know Mguel will follow, you keep pace with him once you both exit the room, choosing to walk by his side.

You’re always different for the next two hours. You linger by him more, find more excuses to touch him and talk with him. He knows why, he knows how princesses like to play their games, how they love all their suitors. But sometimes he slips up, sometimes he believes your advances are genuine, that you honestly wish for him to whisk you away from your castle life, your perfect, royal life. Then he comes back to reality.

You enter your chambers and stand by the foot of your bed, Miguel by the door. His heart is racing because he knows what comes next. It’s- unfortunately, his favorite time of the day. You stand by your wardrobe, just looking into the mirror before catching his gaze in the reflection. “Mig?” Your soft tone sends a suppressed shiver through his body. “Do you think you could help me?”

He’s walking towards you without hesitation. “I- I’d ask one of the maids but they’re all busy and-” He doesn’t need a justification, you don’t need an excuse. “Of course, Princess. I understand.” You do this every time. Your maids are always ‘too busy’. You both know it's a ruse, but neither of you wants it to stop.

He lets his hands rest on your side for a moment, relishing the way he can feel you expand with the deep breath you take. He slides them back to where you’re laced into your dress and takes his time untying the strings. You wish you could see his hands, the way they’d thread through the strings, how careful and gentle they’d be. Or how small the strings would look between his thick fingers.

Once he finishes loosening your corset he opens it for you, reliving the extreme pressure it puts on you and you thank him with a soft sigh. He’s in a trance though, he slowly removes the fabric from your body. Your spine seems to compress itself, making you seem even shorter than usual now that you don’t have this brace forcing you upright. You’re just watching him in the mirror as his hands come up to your shoulders and slowly turn you around. He’s not looking you in the eyes yet, he’s just looking at you. He looks at your collarbones and slowly pushes your hair over your shoulder to reveal more of you to him. But something snaps him out of his trance and he puts distance between the two of you before you even take a breath. “S- I’m so sorry, Princess.I—” You cut him off before he can say more.

“There's no need for an apology! I didn’t say anything, did I?” There’s a shy flirtiness in your tone that causes Miguel’s face to sink into a dark red color, bringing a giggle to your lips that only worsens his condition. He turns and walks back to the door while you finish undressing.

He keeps his eyes dutifully out the window. Pretending he can't hear the fabric sliding against your naked skin. How he yearns to look, it's like you have your own gravitational pull. It’s a constant struggle to hear you undressing and redressing yourself into something he knows is going to screw with him. You’ll probably change into your favorite nightgown. It’s an adorable sleeved gown with feathers at the top. You always mention you don’t like how long it is, and that it’s “unflattering” but in truth, everything you wear is flattering. You make it so.

Miguel suddenly becomes aware of the silence in the room. No rustling, no sliding fabrics. He risks looking over at you and his heart almost beats out of his chest. It’s new. You must’ve gotten it tailored because he’s never seen anything fit you so well. It’s a night dress, flowy but short, very short. It barely reaches the halfway point of your thigh. It has no sleeves, your neck, collarbones, and shoulders on full display, and the top hugs your breasts in a way he’s never witnessed.

You watch him admire you for a moment before speaking up with a soft “Hmm?” and his eyes fly to yours. “I think it’s quite cute!” You smile at him brightly, waiting for his opinion. He doesn’t give you one though, he just stares at you for a little longer. You grow conscious under his stare and anxiety begins to eat away at you. “W- What do you th—”

His face twitches before he blurts out. “Yes. Yes, you look-- It’s very- You look very cute. It’s beautiful. You- You look amazing, Princess.” His sentence ends with a sharp inhale that's followed by a calm exhale as Migusl straightens out. He’s been slowly leaning down, subconsciously trying to get closer to you. “You look incredible, Princess.” He tries to place his eyes forward again, trying to turn the environment back to professional, he can’t help but look at you one last time as you thank him.

Your eyes are on the ground and your hand sliding up your arm, uncomfortable with all the skin you’re showing. “You do.” Your eyes snap up to his upon his third confirmation. You seem to be searching his eyes for something, looking deep into him in a way he’ll never get used to.

Your brows furrow and you chew on your lip for a few seconds before declaring that he follow you and starting a rapid pace. He follows behind you urgently before realizing where the two of you are headed.

The castle has a lot of tunnels and hidden passageways, these passageways sometimes lead to other rooms in the castle or secret rooms in the castle. One of your handmaidens was kind enough to show you a passageway right by your washroom that leads to a secret chamber. You’d instantly fallen in love with what you found.

Miguel was there the first time you saw it, you laughed so loud it echoed off the walls. You thought it was a novelty. He was there when he saw it pique your interest for the first time. It had been late at night, and Miguel hadn’t retired to his quarters yet so he was guardian of your door. Inside your room, he could hear you giggling with a drunk Ser Isaac. Your giggle soon turned to breathy whines but they were interrupted with a dull ‘thump’ before a very disappointed sigh from you. It was a matter of seconds before you opened your chamber doors and told him to follow you with about the same amount of urgency that you just did.

You told him to guard the door and quickly shut it before you could see any opinion on his face. He was almost hyperventilating at his post. First of all, he was uncomfortable being out here, staring at your drunk, passed-out, fiancé, while you’re in that room doing god knows what. The other thing that bothered him was how he could not stop thinking about how he’d be so much better for you than that machine.

You opened the door again far too quickly with an even more frustrated expression on your face. “I cannot figure it out. It- It doesn’t work.” Your words come out as an exasperated whine that tugs at his heartstrings. “Show me.”

You chew on your lip for a second before opening the door to let him in and shutting it behind the two of you. There’s a single, yellow light overhead, shining down on where you would be sitting, where the heavy, metal rod protrudes from the seat. “This thing? It will not move, no matter how hard I try!” He examines the churning lever, immediately spots the problem, and starts removing his gloves.

“It’s rusted over, Princess. I can fix it.” You watch as his thick fingers curl around the lever and his biceps tense as he pushes, trying to break it free of the rust. There’s an awful screeching sound and Miguel grunts roughly as the lever begins to move. You try to hide your smile of excitement as Miguel rotates the handle a few more times before letting go. “There.”

You rush over to test for yourself and make sure you can operate it on your own. You smile and turn to Miguel after moving it around with ease. He smirks back at you while he brushes his hands together to remove the rust, and something about the whole scene does something to you. His hands are dirty, his knuckles hairy, his hands huge and thick as he stares at you with something you haven't seen before. You still have one more problem.

“It also…” You trail off before clearing your throat and starting again. “It doesn’t seem to fit.”

Miguel has to shut his eyes for a moment as arousal floods his veins. He takes a deep breath before looking up at you with the softest expression he could muster, hoping it would hide his lust. “You need to start with your fingers, Princess.”

Your eyes widen at his answer and you quickly nod despite him being able to see the confusion written all over your face. He smiles fondly before explaining further. “That.” He gestures to the machine. “Is too big for most girls.” He looks you directly in your eyes as he speaks, slowly bending to your height. “So you have to start with your fingers.” Your eyes dart to his dirty hands for a moment. “You put them inside you, however many you can take.”

You start blinking rapidly like your innocent little brain is having trouble processing what he’s telling you. All you respond with is, “Oh.” Miguel chuckles quietly before standing upright and putting his gloves back on. “Yes. I hope that helps.” You walk up to the door with him, to open it for him or accompany him out but you both pause when you hear a bit of commotion on the other side of the door.

You watch him as he identifies the noise, and breathe out a soft sigh of relief when you see his tense expression relax. “They’re cleaning up Ser Isaac.” He states with a certain disdain that makes you smile softly. You stare at him.

“Okay, then you stay here.” You walk over to the seat and churn the lever a few times to ensure you could do it yourself before sitting on the edge, not quite on the metal penis but close. Miguel is watching from the corner with wide eyes, unable to rationalize what’s going on. You simply tell him “Don’t look.” And he whips his head back around.

He stares at the dark wall, unknowing what he’s waiting for until he hears it. A soft sigh leaves your lips. He waits. He receives more. You grow in volume as you become wetter, he can hear it, the little squelching sounds getting louder, and faster as you get more desperate. Miguel is using all his willpower to not turn around and take in what he has no doubt is a beautiful sight.

He hears your whines muffle as you bite your lip and he wishes you could tell you not to, that he wants to hear them all and more. He heard you let out a ragged breath as you added another finger and he couldn’t help his desire to do it for you, but he happily settled with only hearing your beautiful sounds and movements.

He thanks the Gods every day for letting him stay in that room, for giving him the saccharine memories of you pleasuring yourself for the first time.

This time feels different though. You’re all dressed up and giving him that look. The one that swirls fantasies into his head and makes his hands clam up.

He follows you to the room and assumes his position in the corner, but never hears the metallic clink of you situating yourself in the seat. He waits and waits but hears nothing, no movement from you. So he turns around. He has to see what you’re doing, even if it's only for a second, just to make sure you’re safe.

He finds you standing directly behind him, staring right at him so you guys make eye contact the moment he looks over his shoulder. He instantly turns back around, embarrassed that you found him looking, and worried you might get the wrong idea.

Miguel tries to explain himself, stumbling and stuttering over the start of his sentence before you cut him off. “How come you never look?”

The question silences him.

“Do you have no desire to?” He turns around again. You seem genuine in your questioning, he feels like he detects a bit of hurt in your voice as well, but that’s most likely in his head.

“You know I cannot desire.” He states softly. He, as a knight, cannot desire any woman, and most definitely not a princess. Yet he sees anger flash through your eyes at his statement.

“Just because someone tells you you’re not allowed, does not mean you can’t.” Miguel stays silent, not knowing what you want him to say in response. He can see you scanning his face, examining his features to try and find any crack in his exterior. You must find whatever you’re looking for because you suddenly nod and take a step back.

“Who are you more loyal to, your oath, or me?” The question baffles him. “If I, your princess, were to tell you to disobey your oath… Would you?”

His eyes widen and you can see the gears turning in his head, trying to understand where his loyalties should lie. His mouth opens and closes with unsaid words and you decide to give him a break.

“Come here.” You demand, pointing next to the machine, by the churning lever. You take a deep breath, seat yourself by the metal phallus, and slip a finger under your gown before you can give it a second thought.

You slide your fingers over your panties for a moment, teasing yourself. Through a lot of trial and error, you’ve found that this is your favorite part; exploring your body, what makes you feel good, and feeling yourself soak your panties throughout the process.

You hear Miguel take a sharp breath of air, reminding you of his presence and sending a jolt to your core. You’ve never been like this in front of someone, aside from what Miguel could hear and the few times your fiancé was sober enough to attempt to get you off. But even then, it didn't feel like it does now.

You can’t help but imagine what it would be like if Miguel was the one touching you. If it were his thick fingers sliding under the satin fabric of your underwear to finally slide into you. There’s a burning stretch due to you using two fingers instead of one but it only furthers your fantasies of Miguel’s large hands. You peek your eyes open for a moment, your gaze still on the ground but you can see his feet, a small (or rather large) reminder that he’s right there.

You can’t help the whimper that slips out, louder than usual. You’re more desperate. You can’t think of any other reason aside from him. You’re soaking your fingers in a way you haven’t since your first time and it’s driving you wild. “Miguel” His name comes out with a small whine, pitching your voice up and scrambling his brain.

He has to take a deep breath before answering you out of fear that his voice will shake. “Princess?” His voice is rough and gravelly. He hears you take a sharp breath at the sound of it before clearing your throat in hopes of composing yourself.

“You will churn the lever for me today.” His heart stops. “Understood, Ser?” His eyelids flutter as his eyes burn holes in the wall he’s facing. He goes over your sentence in his head, assuming he must’ve misheard you. His brows furrow and twitch along with his face before accepting that he heard you correctly. “Un-” He takes a shaking breath. “Understood, Princess.”

His hand comes up to wrap around the lever without him even looking in your direction.

You stare up at him as you pull your panties aside and slide down the cold metal, your teeth digging into your lip to try and keep any noises inside. You only let out a satisfied sigh once you’ve sunk to the bottom before pushing yourself to the tip again.

You can’t help but focus on him. He’s right there. You can see the curve of his nose and the plush of his lips, the way they purse before his tongue comes out to wet them and pull one into his mouth to bite. He doesn’t have his helmet on so you can see his rich brown curls, the way they frame his face and dance over his neck. You can see his thick, bushy brows, and behind his beautiful lashes are his warm, chocolate-brown eyes looking down at you.

You gasp once your eyes meet and Miguel goes red. He just wanted to see you for a moment. You’re right there, practically whining in his ear as you impale yourself on what should be his cock.

He can’t take it anymore, he can’t hold his feelings back as he feels a ripple flow through him and blood rush to his dick. His head decides to conjure every arousing, heart-warming, lovable memory he has of you. He hears you whine again at the loss of eye contact, even if it was only for a moment. Another ripple flows through him, settling in his lower stomach, and creating a painful pressure as your whimpers grow. He tries to redirect his thoughts and focus ahead as he keeps churning for you, cranking the lever again, and again. Your moans pick up as he regains his steady pace.

He tries not to imagine that it’s him. He tries not to think about the fact that your moaning aligns with the throbbing of his cock. He definitely doesn't think about the way his dick is pressing into the metal plate covering his cock. He doesn’t note the way his free hand twitches behind his back, wishing to provide any sense of relief to himself. He doesn’t get distracted by the thought of him touching himself with you sitting right there.

You feel your orgasm building before Miguel starts to slow down again, his timing uneven again and you look up at him in confusion. He’s staring at the wall, his chest heaving and that same expression on his face. You don’t care to decipher what it means in your impatience. Miguel just feels your delicate hand on his, pushing his hand, forcing him to churn the lever.

You moan as your seat becomes functional. Your chin collides with your chest as you release all the moans and whimpers you’ve been trying to quiet. It almost feels like he’s been toying with you, with all his starting and stopping. You’ve been pushed to the edge of your sanity.

You can’t comprehend how embarrassing this might be for you, a princess burying this rod inside you again and again, wishing it was someone other than who you’re set to marry.

You shake the thought of Isaac from your head and replace it with Miguel. Just thinking about the life you could have with him has you tensing over the metal. Your fingers lace with his before you can even think about what you’re doing.

Miguel’s gaze is now on the ceiling, his eyes already slipping shut as your nails dig into his hand. His dick is leaking behind his crotch plate now, begging for your attention, a feeling he isn’t used to regulating. He feels himself pulse painfully and his free hand twitches again.

Just for a moment. He thinks. Just one second.

His hand comes from behind his back to crush itself against his crotch, trying to relieve any pressure before he loses his mind, but you hear the clink of the metal hitting and open your eyes instantly. You spot his hand over his dick before slowly looking up to meet his eyes. Miguel lets a moan slip out as he massages himself more thoroughly, squeezing more precum from his tip before pulling away and forcing himself to break your stare.

“Please.” Is all he hears from you. It’s weak, pathetic, and punches him in the gut, taking all the breath from his lungs. His eyes wander back to you before he can think better of it and he’s instantly stuck, locked into your eyes.

He watches your body catch alight. You tremble over the steel cock, holding eye contact with Miguel and pushing his hand, forcing him to churn, fuck you over and over as you cum. He can’t do anything but watch. He doesn’t even think about touching himself, not wanting anything to take his attention away from this moment.

He watches you come down, your body melting into a puddle before him. You drape yourself over the front of the machine as you huff. Even out of breath and covered in sweat, your hair a mess and your dress surely mussed, he thinks you look like an angel, and it breaks his heart that he’ll never be able to keep you.

He takes a deep breath before releasing the lever, relishing in the whine that leaves your throat as the rod slides out of you one final time. Despite better thinking, Miguel pats your head fondly, almost petting you before speaking as softly as he can. “Come on, Princess. Let’s get you to bed.”

You only hum and bury yourself in his neck as he lifts you from your seat. He takes his time getting back to your room, letting you rest in his arms for as long as he can allow.

He lays you on your bed gently, propping your head up on the pillow and even going to cover you before you stop him. “Mmm Mig..” You begin sitting up again and stretch before opening your eyes to look at him.

Your eyebrows twitch, furrowing for a moment before he sees recognition in your eyes, quickly accompanied by mischief. “Sit down.” Your voice slurs adorably with your fatigue. He doesn’t get to hear this often. Normally, he’d do anything to stay with you, talk with you just a little more.

But Miguel is still harder than steel in his suit, so pairing that with the hard metal of his armor, and sitting down? It sounds like the most painful thing he could do right now. “Princess… You should get some res-”

“ Sit down, Miguel.” He stares at you, debating his options again in the face of your stubbornness. You, however, take this as more defiance. “Please?” You beg him.

You should know you never have to beg him for anything.

He’s seated before your mouth even shuts. Your mouth is shaped into a smirk before he can take a breath, and you’re in his lap before he can blink.

“Wha-?” Is all he can breathe out before your mouth is on his. His hands find your hips on instinct, grabbing all that he can and pulling it against him. You pull away. “Thank you.” And dive for him again.

He places one hand behind your head to ensure you don’t do it again.

thank you so much for reading!! please please please give any feedback you may have! I want it all! also if you liked it please take a look at my masterlist or send me some motivation here!!

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ghostlywhiskey · 1 year ago

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John Price - Hell on Earth - Part 1

Pairing: Lawyer!John Price x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2,427 Warnings: None Summary: Your a paralegal at a law firm and John Price is a top attorney - but makes everyone's life a living hell. And it only gets worse when he decides to make you his primary paralegal. Notes: Going based of this prompt/blurb I wrote. There will 100% be more parts - you think I'm gonna have lawyer!price and not have smut at some point? Absolutely not. Also let the record show, I did not proofread teehee<3 ▸read part two here ▸find my masterlist here

The phone sat snug between your ear and shoulder as the contents of your bag were shifted around with one hand, the other holding a coffee. Where is the damn keycard? Your thoughts block out whatever Morgan was saying on the other end of the phone. As you push through the revolving door, the keycard finds a spot between your fingers as you say good morning to the guard and head for the elevator.

“Morgan.” The name coming out of you is rather monotone as you try to grab your friend's attention from her ongoing rant. “Morgan, take a breath would you?” Eyes looking at the lights above the elevators to make note of which one you would be getting into.

“I can’t take a breath! Who goes on five dates with someone and just poof! Hey, I don’t want a relationship?” her voice belted through the phone loud enough that you would think your phone had the speaker option selected. The sudden exclamation in her voice causes you to pull the phone from your ear, eyes glancing to see multiple emails come in from Price about various different cases that had been transferred to you in the past three weeks.

“Son of a bitch.” you mutter as you stand in the elevator, scrolling through twenty new emails, all delivered at 8AM. He fucking prepared them to be auto-sent. Is he fucking kidding?

“Hey, are you there?” Morgan’s voice echoes through the phone, quickly putting it to your ear.

“Sorry, work is already chaotic. Can I call you later? Or maybe drinks after work?” voice apologetic, but your anxiety is already focusing on what needs to get done for the day.

As you push through the doors of the firm, ‘good mornings’ are thrown around from your coworkers as you make your way to your cubicle. The door to his office is wide open, the lack of yelling and aggressive taps on the keyboard nowhere to be heard - He isn’t in yet, thank fuck.

Your bag drops onto the desk along with your coffee next to it, body dropping into the chair as you stare at the black screen. Eight hours to go. Hand grasping the mouse, you give it a shake as the dual monitors come to life and type your login quickly. The inbox rapidly catches up to what your phone already knows - 127 messages. Twenty of them are Price’s alone from this morning.

Monday, August 7, 2023 - 8:00 AM

Subject: K. Laswell - Deposition of Our Client

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Good Morning,

What is the status of getting the deposition set up? Why is no one agreeing? Call them and get answers. Tired of the emails flooding my inbox.

Very truly yours,

John Price, Esq.

Monday, August 7, 2023 - 8:00 AM

Subject: S. Riley - Motion to Compel Discovery

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Good Morning,

Prepare the exhibits for A to H. They are in the file under the exhibits folder for the motion. Want it filed today - discovery has been outstanding for over a year. No more good faith letters.

I want to see the final version before it is filed.

Very truly yours,

John Price, Esq.

Monday, August 7, 2023 - 8:00 AM

Subject: J. McTavish - Search Case Law

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Good Morning,

I don’t have time to look into this today - find me relevant cases that can be applied to the file. Preferably by tomorrow morning, get as specific as you can. Opposition is due 3 weeks from now and I’d rather not be stressing about it when it is due the week before the motion. Any questions, ask Mary. Thanks.

Very truly yours,

John Price, Esq.

Monday, August 7, 2023 - 8:00 AM

Subject: K. Garrick - CASE DISMISSED

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Good Morning Patrick,

No need to apologize, I hope the family is well. Glad we were able to resolve this.

Looping my paralegal in. She will provide you the document signed on behalf of me and have it to you by the end of the day.

Very truly yours,

John Price, Esq.

“I hope the family is well.” the mumble from your lips is a mocking one, as if that prick ever wishes anyone well. God forbid he ever wrote thank you instead while signing off on an email. The few emails are just the start of the tasks for the day. Happy Monday.

One more email catches your eye before you go to start from the bottom of where you left off the other day answering people. One email not sent exactly at 8 AM.

Monday, August 7, 2023 - 8:02 AM

Subject: Meeting about cases

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Morning,

When I’m in the office later we need to discuss more cases you are getting reassigned to. Let me know when you are free today. I’ll be in around 12 after court.

John

Get Outlook for IOS

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

And by the time the clock hits 12, you’ve barely made it through half of the emails. Completely zoning out as you chew on a pen cap, you scroll through the case law your searching for one of Price’s tasks - saving various memorandums into the file and your own notes on a word document. The sound of your desktop messenger goes off, the paralegal chat receiving a message from the firm secretary: Price is in.

Another paralegal, Ava, quickly sent a reply: Prayers up. Headphones in before the yelling in his office starts.

Fingers quickly typing your own response, you send yours: Fingers crossed today’s the day I can get fired and just collect unemployment instead.

You couldn’t help but chuckle quietly, closing the chat before Price would make his way to his office by your desk. Better off he didn’t see the alerts of his presence or everyones personal feelings about him. The sound of his shoes clicking against the floor caused your head to peek over your desktop setup, his phone already held up to his ear as he angrily spoke on the phone.

“Well, the judge doesn’t know his fucking ass from his elbow.” his eyes glanced over at you as he walked by, his hand holding up five fingers as he mouthed ‘five minutes’ to you.

So, you didn’t do anything for the next five minutes besides watch the clock on your computer. By the time four minutes hit, you stood up from the desk and stood outside his closed door. And right as five minutes hit, the door swung open and his breath caught in his throat as he was prepared to shout your name but saw you standing right there.

“Glad to see you can count.” he opted to say instead, turning to walk back towards his desk. “Door shut.” You nodded at his demand, closing the door and walking to stand at the front of his desk.

“Is the Laswell deposition set up?” he asked.

“Calendered for January 18th.”

“Exhibits on Riley…finished?” Another question as he scrolled through his emails.

“Prepared for your review.” The response leaving your lips quickly. “Document signed on Garrick. Still working on the case law for McTavish. And anything else you emailed me about.” You decided to finish off responses to any more questions he might have. He glanced up from his laptop, nodding.

“So, that leaves us with case reassignments.” Price stated and you simply nodded to acknowledge his comment. “Any file that Kelsey had with me is getting reassigned to you.” You knew Kelsey, she was a capable paralegal, she was Price’s go-to paralegal. Well, heavy emphasis on the ��was’. She had quit the other week. Rumors spread, but the consensus seemed to be that Price might have driven her to a mental break.

Your brain did the math quickly - that would leave you hitting around over 250 files altogether. And before you could voice your concern, Price spoke again. “You’ll become my primary paralegal. Any case you have with another attorney is going to get reassigned to someone else.” Slight relief washed over you. At least that knocked your case load down a bit, but that still left you under Price’s reign of terror. Reporting to him about everything.

How soon am I gonna have a mental break? Your brain echoed, but again, you just nodded in response to what he just said. “Have you lost your voice?” He raised a brow. Quickly you shook your head ‘no’.

“No, sir. Understood. I’ll draft memos on any file I have getting transferred to someone else so they know the status.” You spoke, looking down at him as he sat at his desk.

“Good, get back to work.” was all he said, nodding towards his door. And with that, you hurriedly exited his office before he could mention anything else.

Once you sat down at your desk, you opened the paralegal chat.

Guess who is the new Kelsey :))

The hours this day seemed to drag. And for what felt like the hundredth time that day, your eyes glanced at the clock.

7:03 PM.

You let out a frustrated sigh, keeping it quiet. Anything you wanted to actually get done today for the most part didn’t, as you were handling forest fire after forest fire that Price would email about. But at this rate, you felt defeated. Not even a full 24 hours as his designated paralegal and you were one step away from a mental break of your own.

Price was long gone from the office. Every other paralegal was also gone at this rate, vanishing at 5 PM on the dot. The only other presence was the office cleaning lady who came in everyday. She came over to your desk, smiling at you as a greeting before she grabbed your trash can to dump the contents into her larger bin she pushed around. “Isn’t it late, love?” her voice soft and you smiled sadly at her.

“I guess it is.” you said, glancing back at your screen. The lady glanced at your computer screen and then her eyes went to Price’s door, reading his name on the door. And it was like something clicked.

“Oh, does Mr. Price, have you staying late?” she asked, voice laced with pity it sounded like. How did she know? And it was like she read your mind. “That blonde girl….hm, Kelsey!” she exclaimed as she remembered the name. “She was always staying later for that man.” The older lady spoke and you huffed.

“Yeah, Mr. Price.” you mumbled, reaching over to shut your laptop off. There was no way you were doing anything else tonight - besides burying yourself under your bed covers.

“Well, have a good night.” The lady said, walking away as she continued to empty trash cans throughout the office.

And by the time you were home, it felt like a chore to put yourself in the shower. But the water hitting your back acts as a cleanser of any stress of the day. Why was he such a prick? The inflated ego was understandable stemming from the fact he was a successful attorney. But, what was the point of treating everyone around you like shit? If he had a wife, you felt terrible for her. Though you never did notice a wedding ring, honestly, it wouldn’t surprise you if he took it off when he wasn’t around her. And if he wasn’t married, then you figured he was probably single and alone, because who the fuck would deal with that?

Two Months Later

If hell was on earth, it was right here in this very office. At your desk. Working directly for John Price.

The past two months felt like you were running a treadmill that wouldn’t stop and the only way to get off would be to stop running and just let the damn thing fling you into the wall. At least there was paid overtime, or you genuinely would have been on the next train to the unemployment line. But once again, the clock read 6:30 PM for the third time this week. The music from Price’s office blasting as his door had been shut the past four hours. First the sounds of him screaming on the phone, the next two hours followed by a conference call where you were almost positive you heard another attorney start crying and the past hour had been strictly music. You weren’t sure what to expect from his music taste, but the array of Mötley Crüe, Rolling Stones, Slipknot and a bunch of others you couldn’t even begin to name was driving you to the point of losing your mind.

Your body only jumped slightly in your seat when the door to his office abruptly opened, the music pouring into the rest of the empty office. But your eyes focused on Price as you made note of his appearance. In your months working here, nothing about him was ever disheveled. Every button done, tie aligning perfectly with the buttons on his shirt, his hair gel holding every hair on his head in place. Except right now, he looked like he actually just ran on a treadmill as opposed to you who had just felt like you had been on one. The first two buttons of his shirt undone and his tie sprawled on the desk in his office along with his suit jacket that hung off the back of his own chair. His face was slightly red and the gel in his hair looked like it lost his hold and as if his fingers had run through it.

The way his eyes locked on you made your body tense. It made you feel like you were in the wrong for still being in the office. “You’re still here?” he questioned, slightly caught off guard by your presence.

You hesitated for a minute, fingers on the keyboard coming to a stop as you looked at him. Well obviously I’m still fucking here. And the tiredness of the day hitting you, that you couldn’t help but reply with an attitude. “Well, unless I’m a ghost then yes, I’m still here.” The emphasis on the ‘still’ was strong. But your tone didn’t even seem to strike him like you thought it would, he just cleared his throat and nodded.

“I’m stepping out to grab something for dinner quickly. See you tomorrow if you’re gone by the time I’m back.” was all he left you with as he left the office. His demeanor and lack of response to your attitude caught you off guard as you stared blankly at your screen as he left the office. What the fuck is wrong with him?

#john price x reader #john price x you #john price #captain john price #john price x female reader #lawyer!price #captain price #john price cod #captain john price x reader #captain john price x you #call of duty #john price x y/n #captain john price x female reader #finally i write the first part for lawyer price the day has come

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callingbridgerton · 6 months ago

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Is it any surprise that Colin "all or nothing" Bridgerton takes his time trying and failing to understand his feelings after the kiss?

I wrote a little bit about this in a comment on Reddit, but I think some of the frustration that we are hearing from people stems from Colin's lack of vocal processing throughout the first half of the season.

I'll admit that his development is subtle, and happens quietly, but I believe that was done on purpose. It needed to be quiet. For a couple reasons. Hear me out.

For the sake of the carriage scene, Pen needed to not know that Colin was falling for her. People are saying that they felt Colin's declaration felt rushed and sudden, but it was supposed to! His reveal needed to feel completely unexpected!

Penelope is supposed to be shocked by it. In order to believe her shock, we too needed to be a bit shocked. It helped so much with the intensity of the carriage scene. I believe Penelope saw Colin looking at her over the last few weeks, but he's kinda always done that? Only we are supposed to know that Colin feels any differently than normal. If we all had known solidly how Colin felt the whole time then we wouldn't have related to Pen's shock in the carrriage at all. She's shut off any hope of Colin feeling the same way. I think the brevity of the scenes where Colin is looking at her during balls and whatnot are done on purpose (through Pen's eyes). Not to beat a dead horse but the carriage scene really really (to me) wouldn't have felt the same if Colin had given Pen more signs. (And throughout all the criticisms, people seem to all agree that that scene was outstanding. But it doesn't exist in a vacuum!)

So much of what we see of Colin processing his feelings for Penelope is done through looks, facial expressions, body language, etc.

This is a bit unique from the other two seasons, in which Daphne and Anthony were both a bit more aware of what they were feeling (even if they were fighting it) and more obvious about it outwardly to others. Perhaps this is what people feel was missing in the build-up?

We do get some hints of Colin thinking about it and struggling with it as he talks to other people such as the Mondriches, Eloise when he thinks that they've spoken about the kiss, Benedict and Hyacinth after his dream, and later, Violet. But primarily, I think that Colin was simply still figuring it out.

And can we blame him? If I were as all-or-nothing as him, a feeling like I was falling in love with my best friend would scare me half to death. Beyond the initial confusion, he needs to be sure how he feels because once Colin knows what he wants he can't hold himself back from getting it.

I know a lot of people think Colin realizes how he feels immediately after the kiss. I could see that, for sure (and I know it's that way in the books and that Nicola said she thinks it's all in one moment), but ultimately I disagree. It of course jump starts everything (and I don't think anything would have happened without it) but I think that it really does happen more slowly, both before and after that. In the first 2 episodes, Colin is repeatedly affected by Penelope during their scenes. He doesn't overthink it, but it's there. Over episodes 3 and 4 Colin consistently tries and fails to understand what is happening to him, even going as far as to go back to the brothel to try to make it stop, but after kissing them both realizes it's just not the same. (One of my favorite moments was when he goes to kiss one of the ladies, pulls away, and looks dumbfounded after feeling nothing.)

In the last episode, when he's in his study thinking back on the hand-cut scene with Pen, he finally realizes he can't make this stop. In fact, he doesn't even want to. That is the moment everyone was waiting for. And no, it is not shoved in your face, nor in his. It's fast, like "Got it, okay, gotta go." All. Or. Nothing.

Hence Colin making his appearance at the ball, his utter lack of care for society rules in breaking up Pen and Lord Debling's dance. His tunnel vision (and speed, ha!) trying to get to Penelope in the carriage. When Colin knows what he wants he just goes for it. He always does this, as others have said, with Marina, with his investment and then takedown of Jack, with Pen.

If people are left frustrated by the lack of obviousness in Colin's realization, I think that's a little silly. If Colin had fully realized any earlier he would've been breaking things up much faster and it would've been a very different story. The pacing to me was perfect. And it made the pay-off so much more rewarding.

#polin #colin bridgerton #colin x penelope #penelope featherington #bridgerton #bridgerton season 3 #i cant keep editing this so im just gonna post it

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pokemonheritageposts · 2 months ago

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TCG Suggestions: Sylveon?

i usually close off each set of 10 with a starter but i already did torchic in this one. so let's finish with an eeveelution!

i have a few ko-fi requests outstanding so i'll do those early next week, putting in a short gap because i have some overdue art commissions i need to hammer out. thanks again to everyone who has donated! i didn't expect to get anywhere near my goal and we're already two thirds of the way there!

10. Sylveon (illus. Mizue, Sword & Shield Promo #211)

9. Sylveon (illus. Kuroimori, Scarlet & Violet - Shrouded Fable 22/64)

8. Sylveon (illus. 313, Sun & Moon - Forbidden Light 87/131)

7. Dark Sylveon V (illus. Ryuta Fuse, Sword & Shield Promo #134)

6. Sylveon EX (illus. sui, Generations RC21/RC32)

5. Gardevoir & Sylveon GX (illus. Atsuko Nishida, Sun & Moon - Unbroken Bonds 205/214)

4. Sylveon EX (illus. Kanako Eo, Generations RC32/RC32)

3. Sylveon V (illus. Yuu Nishida, Sword & Shield - Evolving Skies 184/203)

2. Sylveon VMAX (illus. sui, Sword & Shield - Brilliant Stars TG15/TG30)

1. Sylveon VMAX (illus. Taira Akitsu, Sword & Shield - Evolving Skies 212/203)

#sylveon #tcg rankings

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lucysgraybird · 9 months ago

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modern!university!coriolanus x fem!reader. part 2 here, part 3 here

notes: this is not set in panem -- if you're looking for a vibe, think harvard/uchicago/any of the old-guard, upper echelon US universities. i have another part in the works that i'll post tomorrow or thursday. also i promise that they both have some crazy in them . It will appear in later parts

“Please remember that I cannot accept late work for this essay,” your professor says as everyone packs up. “The deadline is the deadline for work for the semester, so everything has to be submitted by then. This includes any outstanding work you might have.”

She shoots a look at a boy in the front row when she says that, and he bows his head.

“Have a wonderful weekend, and I'll see you all Monday.”

You shove your laptop in your bag, sling it across your body, and make a beeline for the exit. This is your last class of the day and you have no intention of spending any more time in a lecture hall than you have to. Just as you're about to leave the building, someone catches you by the shoulder and pulls you back.

“Excuse you,” you mutter, turning to see who would do something so…well, to put it diplomatically, bold.

There stands a boy with a shock of hair so blonde it's nearly white and eyes so blue they're nearly translucent. It would be eerie if he didn't wear it well: angular and bright, it's like he's been carved from the purest block of ice. His pale features are offset by the rich ruby of his sweater. He looks royal, though you'd think a prince wouldn't go around grabbing girls by their arms.

“I'm sorry,” he says. “I've been wanting to talk to you for weeks, but you always fly out of the building and I didn't want to miss you this time.”

“Talk to me? About what?”

God willing, not about some group project that had slipped your mind. You're so careful about organization, but sometimes things slip through the cracks.

“Would you like to go out with me?”

“Who are you?”

His eyebrows (the only dark thing on his face) twitch, and you wonder if he's so arrogant as to assume you'd know who he is. He doesn't say anything, though, just extending a hand to you.

“Coriolanus Snow. Pleasure.”

You shake his hand, finding the official-ness of it a little odd. When you open your mouth to introduce yourself, he stops you.

“I realize this is going to sound…odd, but I do know who you are. You're the only person I listen to in that insipid class.”

“Oh.”

Because honestly, what are you supposed to say to that?

“Let me take you to dinner, please,” Coriolanus says. “At least for the conversation.”

Your pause must spur him on, because he continues, “And you're gorgeous. Honestly, you caught my eye before you even started speaking, and then…well.”

He's very forward, but it doesn't come off as desperate. He carries himself with such a confident air that if he hadn't tried to be suave, it would've been more awkward.

You allow yourself to be flattered, offering him a soft laugh. His poise must be a front, at least a little, and you can put up a façade too.

“Why, thank you, Coriolanus. I'd love to go out with you, but I'm so busy with finals coming up…”

This is partly true – you're taking the maximum number of credits your advisor would let you, which is over the credit load the school has set, so you have a good deal of work to do. However, you're not above playing a little hard-to-get, especially if you are interested in the person. Half the fun of a hunt is the chase.

“All the more reason to go out. I know a spot if you're free tonight – one more bit of fun before hitting the books?”

“What kind of fun, Mr. Snow?”

“Well, we'll see where the night takes us, if that's a yes.”

It can't hurt, right?

“It's a yes. I'll text you my address?” You extend your phone to him, a delicate smile gracing your lips.

“Perfect,” he says, putting in his number. “I'll pick you up at 7:30. Wear something nice.”

“Where are we going?”

“A surprise, but it's very classy. You'll love it.”

You can't wait to look this guy up when you get home. “I'm looking forward to it. See you tonight."

“See you tonight.”

—

“Classy” is an unhelpful dress code, you're discovering. It refers to such a range of places, so you're left to take a guess and hope you don't make some sort of grave faux pas. You're limited in being overdressed as a university student, so you select the nicest thing you brought from home. It's a wine-coloured dress that skims just the middle of your calves, with a cowl at the neck and a sweeping back that shows a tasteful (yet tempting, you hope) amount of skin. With a thin necklace and some earrings, you could fit in at most “nice” restaurants that would be appropriate for a first date with a nigh-stranger.

At 7:25, you slip on your coat and heels and head down to the lobby of your apartment building. Something tells you that Coriolanus has a tendency towards extreme punctuality, so you'd rather not keep him waiting a moment.

Just as you suspected, at 7:30 exactly the silhouette of a tall man appears at your door and your phone buzzes with a text.

Coriolanus Snow: I'm here.

When you open the door, he is, indeed, there, holding a bouquet of white roses and wearing a red vest and slacks with a white dress shirt. He is nothing if not coordinated, you suppose.

“Ah,” he says. “Hello. These are for you.”

It is a lovely gesture, and it garners a genuine blush from you while you accept the bouquet. “Thank you. They're gorgeous. I didn't even know they made white roses.”

He offers his elbow to you, which you accept. Though it's odd, there's something sweet about his anachronistic nature. You, like any college girl, have had many a bad first date, and it's pleasant to have one with a man who is, at the least, polite.

“My grandmother grows them. I dropped by and picked these up on my way here. You look wonderful, by the way.”

“Oh! Thank you. I wasn't quite sure what to wear because I don't know where we're going, so I'm glad I chose well.” You glance over at his outfit. “We match, sort of.”

“So we do.”

He smiles in a way that's almost indescribable – it's not quite aloof, though it has some of the same calculation behind it. It actually feels incredibly personal, and sets your heart racing. Why this boy gets under your skin the way he does – the way no one has before – is something you have yet to discover.

Your walk with him ends at a black car, for which he opens the back door and allows you to climb in before following you. A scan of social media earlier had turned up tragically few results, and every single thing Coriolanus does makes you more curious about him. He settles next to you.

“So are you a polisci major, or are you just taking the one class?” You ask, unwilling to let silence be for more than a moment.

“Polisci and philosophy,” he replies. “My goal is law school directly after college, and then politics.”

“I should've guessed,” you say.

“Oh?”

“Not in a bad way. Just…you're very smooth. Well-spoken, attractive, all of that. You'd do well in politics.”

The corners of his lips turn in a slight smile. “You think I'm attractive?”

You laugh. “I certainly do, Coriolanus. I do have standards, you know.”

“Then I'm very glad I'm meeting them. Are you looking to do politics too, then, or…?”

“Honestly, not right now. I think I might stick to academia for a while. I don't have the stomach for pandering that you have to have for politics.”

“It's my least favourite part, honestly. I did some work for a senator last summer and the endless word-parsing drove me insane. No one ever says what they mean.”

“Right. The image of it all is fun, though. Like playing a character. But you don't have to do politics to do that.”

Coriolanus nudges his knee against yours. “Are you putting on an image for me right now?”

“A lady never tells. Are you putting on one for me?”

When you turn, he's a lot closer than you expected. You can see the spires in his irises, like cracked moonstones, and can smell his cologne: whiskey and spice and something woody, clean.

“You'll just have to find out,” he says, his voice low in his chest. It's said as a secret – there's no one else in the car, but it's as though if he says it too loud the leather of the seats might remember. These words were for your ears only, the rumble meant to coast across just your skin, and you shudder.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coryo snow #tom blyth #tom blyth fanfiction #tom blyth x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coryo x reader #coryo

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its-time-to-write · 1 year ago

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ugggghhh I love your writing! your style and just voice are outstanding!

could you write something with Jamie and a professional footballer (female reader) who are dating (but no one knows) and they are doing a PR thing for England or some ad campaign? And they have to do silly things and show how much they know about each other (like they have known each other since they were in school and have been friends for a while) but then Keeley catches on or something. Sorry if this doesn't make sense, but essentially it is Jamie and a professional footballer (female reader) relationship, thank you! <3

✌️😗

you’re a mansion with a view

There’s an insistent knocking on the door. It’s who-the-fuck-knows o’clock Jamie has been inside all day, lights off and dealing with a wicked hangover. The pounding on the door syncs up with the pounding in his head, and he Jamie shuffles to open it so the person on the other side can shut up.

He opens it to find you, mid-knock.

“Put a shirt on, Tartt,” you say as you push past him, grocery bag in hand. Jamie looks down. He’s just in his trousers, and for once he’s grateful that it isn’t the other way around.

“Fucking hell, Killer,” he groans. “Shouldn’t you be at training?”

You shake your head, ignoring the fact that he used your football nickname as opposed to your actual name. “Nope. It’s five. Training’s done for the day.”

Jamie follows you to his kitchen. Why you’re walking around like you own the place, he has no idea.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he asks. “And how do you know where all my stuff is?”

You tap your head. “Our houses have the same layout. I can see yours from across the street, and noticed you haven’t been out in like, a week. That’s a record for you.”

Jamie rubs his face. “Fucking hell,” he says again. “So why are you here?”

You turn around from the fridge. “Figured you haven’t had a decent meal besides vanilla vodka.” You make a face. “Disgusting. Just because you’re not playing football doesn’t mean you can neglect nutrition, Tartt.”

“I ain’t neglecting my nutrition,” he replies. “Just…” he trails off.

You smirk. “Uh huh, that’s what I thought. The great Jamie Tartt, drowning his sorrows in vanilla vodka and becoming a couch potato. You haven’t even had any women ‘round to numb the sting. That’s new.”

You flip on a light to which Jamie groans. You flip it off. “So are you going to put on a shirt, or..?”

“Killer,” Jamie says for the third time, “the fuck are you doing in my house?”

You pretend to be digging in the grocery bag so you don’t have to look at his face.

“Saw your interview,” you reply as nonchalantly as possible. “Thought you might need someone to make sure you haven’t, I don’t know, died.”

Jamie knocks his head against the wall. “Has everyone fucking seen that?”

You shrug. “Personally, I liked it a lot better than your season of Lust Conquers All. Lot more feeling in that one interview than the whole show, if you ask me.”

“So you saw that,” Jamie comments. This is far too many words for the headache he has.

“Yup.”

“And you’re still here.”

“Uh huh.”

Jamie is at a loss for words. Everyone else has left him because of that fucking tv show, where he acted like the worst version of himself and didn’t even fucking win.

Doesn’t make sense that you, a midfielder from some women’s FC, would be in his house pulling out real food and making sure he’s alright.

For a moment, Jamie feels bad that he can’t remember what team you play for.

He thinks that this goes beyond neighborly duties. Sure, you live across the street from him and you’ve seen each other at various events, but this is probably the first real conversation you’ve ever had. He has no idea what to make of it.

He asks, “Why do you care?” then immediately cringes at the harsh tone of his voice.

You slam the fridge door harder than you anticipate, making you both jump.

“Because,” you say, then you sigh.

“Footballer life off the pitch sucks sometimes. I wish someone had checked on me.”

“I ain’t a footballer,” Jamie points out, vaguely remembering something about your name in some less-than-friendly headline.

You roll your eyes. “Whatever you say, Tartt.”

—

Five months later, you’re at some random football pitch in your full kit and far more makeup than you’d wear to a match.

Some magazine is doing some profile on different footballers, taking photos with different men and women from all kinds of teams together. You’re not sure why you, a midfielder, are here with Tartt, a striker.

You’re not complaining.

“Oi, Tartt,” you call, “how does it feel to be scored on by a girl?”

(The photographer wanted some action shots of you and Jamie playing 1 v 1.)

Jamie scoffs. “My masculinity ain’t fragile, Killer. Just lucky you didn’t break any of my bones.” He says the words carefully, as if they’re unfamiliar to his tongue and he wants to get them just right.

“You know I have a name, right?” you ask, breathing hard. You’ve dribbled the ball back to Jamie and are standing practically forehead to forehead. “Like, a real actual name that you’re allowed to use?”

Jamie grins and drops his voice to a near-whisper, “Oh I know how to use your name, love.”

You shiver, trapped in his gaze for a minute.

The spell is broken as the photographer shouts, “Alright loves, let’s stage some of you two together.”

You both turn to jog to the sidelines, where she begins posing you.

“Wow,” she remarks, “you two have great chemistry. Usually I have to tell you footballers to act like you like each other.”

Jamie grins and knocks his shoulder into yours. “Hear that, Killer?” he asks, “She thinks we have good chemistry.”

You roll your eyes and feign annoyance. “Be professional, Tartt.”

The photographer asks, “How long have you known each other?”

You and Jamie say, “Two years,” in perfect unison.

“My goodness,” she laughs, “you two are just in sync today! How’d you meet?” You say, “we’re neighbors,” at the same time Jamie says, “at a party.”

You both look at each other. “We met because we live across the street from each other,” you say.

Jamie shakes his head, “No, we met a week before you moved in at a party.”

“What party?” you ask. “Pretty sure I would’ve remembered meeting you.”

“Nah,” Jamie replies, “You were too busy getting sloshed with your teammates while they all hit on Keeley.”

You scrunch your nose. “Was I sloshed?”

“Yep,” Jamie says. “Properly. It was the end of the season, so makes sense.”

“Weird,” you reply. “My first memory of you is when you tried to break into my house because you were too busy snogging this model to figure out you were on the wrong side of the street.”

“Oi, it could happen to anyone!” Jamie says defensively.

“Sure,” you laugh. “Happens to me all the time.”

You reach out to steal the football that’s tucked under Jamie’s arm, but he’s too quick for you.

“Give it!” you say, still laughing.

He holds it above your head. “Give what?” he asks innocently. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You’re jumping and trying to pull his arm down to where you can reach and are almost successful when he tosses it to his other hand.

“No fair!” you cry, “You’re taller than me!”

Jamie grins. “Oh, you want the football then? Maybe try asking nicely.”

You still. “Jamie,” you begin, “could you please give me the football?”

He’s still holding it high above you as he considers. “Hm.” He pretends to think for a moment. “No.” He breaks away from you and kicks it into the goal across the field.

“You can have it now,” he says when he returns. You’re trying so hard to be mad at him, but he has that silly little grin he gets when he’s trying to make you laugh and you just can’t fake a frown.

“Screw you, Tartt,” you laugh.

Jamie raises an eyebrow and opens his mouth to reply when he’s cut off by the photographer.

“You two get along really well,” she says. “I think you’d be cute together.”

You blush and Jamie says, “I fucking hope so. She’s my girlfriend. Oi, d’you want a picture of us kissing?”

“No she doesn’t,” you say.

“Yes she does,” Jamie says. “We’re fucking adorable, babe. Football’s power couple. Behind Posh and Becks, of course,” he says as an afterthought.

“Fine,” you say, “One. Then I’m getting that football and your ass is grass, Tartt.”

Jamie grins. “Fine by me, love.”

He leans in to kiss you but you pull away at the last second, sprinting toward the football still under the goalposts. Did he really think you were going to play fair?

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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thebestofoneshots · 1 year ago

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Gilded Constellations | wolfstar x reader

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 5.3 K Warnings: PG-13 kisses Prompt: You venture to a reading club, entering a part of Hogwarts you had not yet been into, and meeting new and exciting people. A covert trip to the library, on a quest for a werewolf book, leads to an unexpected encounter. This IS a wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it. A/N: Sprinkling in a bit of spice, hope you enjoy <3

Chapter 15: No One Like You

The week went by a lot faster than you expected it to, Remus, just like the last time, had gotten a lot better by dinner, Madame Pomfrey told him he could go once he took a painkiller potion, and gave you some anti-headache drops. You both thanked her and walked together towards the Great Hall. You were in awe of how fast he healed, really, just the thought of how bad he had been in the morning, and how much better he was now, was outstanding, and it made you wonder what other benefits his condition brought along, even if it was clearly a nuisance for him.

Later on the week you’d gone to the book club Nina had invited you to, you wondered if she had also guessed Remus’s condition by reading the book she’d lend you, even if she hadn’t spent so much time with Remus; and to be honest, one of the reason you realised was because you were made pretty aware of the moon phases by your classes and professor on the past few months, you had gotten that silver ring as a gift, and you spend a great deal of time with the boys, down to the point that you easily noticed when they were all acting weird. All of them things Nina had not been a witness to, at least not up close like you had, but she had been around a lot longer than you, you really had no way to tell, unless you straight up asked, and that was obviously not happening.

“So… did you like it?” She asked you with a bright smile when she spotted you outside of the Ravenclaw common room.

You nodded “It was really nice, helped me learn a lot too.”

She frowned “Learn a lot… about werewolves you mean?”

You nodded “I hadn’t studied them before,” you added later “I mean I know it’s not all accurate…” I certainly hope some of those Alpha and knotting things aren’t accurate, you thought “but it got me investigating more about them, it’s pretty interesting.”

Nina nodded “It is, right?” She told you with a smile “I was taking an extra class on magical creatures and they’re all super interesting. They say Newt Scamander may come give a talk at some point next year, it would be absolutely brilliant!”

“Yeah, totally!” You agreed she guided you inside her common room, and you marvelled at the ceiling. You remembered Remus had told you about it, how it was enchanted to look like the sky above instead of a normal roof. It was definitely prettier than what you and Rem had created together, but you rather liked the Gryffindor one best.

Nina smiled when she saw you, “beautiful, right? I’m sure you would’ve fitted in perfectly in Ravenclaw.”

You smiled at her “I’m not sure I’m as studious as most of you,” you told her with a smile “Just the other day I skipped some classes because I had a headache.”

“Yeah, but you still have incredible grades,” she told you, matter of factly “Everyone thinks we’re nerds that study all the time,” she whispered, leaning in closer to you “but just because we��re reading it doesn’t mean we’re studying,” she smiled mischievously “as you saw with the book.”

“Yeah, those spicy scenes were certainly something…” you replied.

Nina guided you towards a small little gathering in front of the fire, it was different to the Gryffindor one, it somehow looked a lot more regal and elegant, reminded you of Professor Nightshade, and then made you wonder how the Hufflepuff common room would look, perhaps Alex could sneak you in one day, after all, he was the head boy.

“Hey everyone, this is (Y/N),” She said as she pointed at you, you waved awkwardly.

“Not that she needs much of an introduction,” a boy said, standing up and offering his hand for a shake, you took it with a smile “Neil Perry, it’s nice to meet the new Gryffindor legend.” You laughed, Neil had a very dashing smile, he almost reminded you of Prongs, he was just as bright “That’s Alice,” he said pointing to a girl with silver hair.

“We share a class, don’t we?” You asked with a smile, she nodded, and the two of you shook hands.

“That over there is Nox,” he said pointing at a boy with Slytherin robes.

You both shook hands as well, “Nice to meet you,” he said “This is Comet, by the way” he said, pointing at a girl who was sitting right next to him.

“I’m really sorry about the Slytherins that have been picking on you,” she told you with a smile “We’re not all entitled pricks.”

“Some of us are even nice,” Nox added.

“I don’t hold grudges against houses,” you told them with a smile “I kind of skipped the whole indoctrination moment by getting here so late,” you joked, and it cracked a chorus of laughs from the entire circle.

Comet extended her hand for you to shake, “I already like you,” the girl said with a grin, which you returned with a wink, you already liked her as well.

“I’m Jennifer, everyone calls me Jane,” a girl with curly black hair and freckles said as she extended her hands, you shook it.

“She picked the book,” You heard another girl say from behind, she was wearing Ravenclaw robes too “I’m Clara,” she told you with a smile. You’d seen her around Nina often.

“Marina,” said another girl with a wave, she was wearing a Hufflepuff beanie.

“I believe that’s all of us?” Neil said with a smile.

Then another boy barged into the room, he had light brown hair and looked a little distressed for being late, “I’m sorry, got caught up on the stairs when coming from the library,” he said. Neil smiled fondly when he saw the boy “That’s Todd,” he told you, “he doesn’t talk much, but he enjoys listening to us a lot.”

You also smiled at the boy “Nice to meet you,” you said looking at him “I’m (Y/N)!”

He looked at you puzzled “Same (Y/N) Nina won’t shut up about?” He asked, still fondling with the amount of things was carrying in his arms.

You raised your eyebrow, smiling at the same time “All good things, I hope.” You said as you shook his hand, and helped him hold some of the books he was carrying.

Todd nodded “It’s like she completely forgot about her old Gryffindor crush and replaced him with you.”

“Will you shut it, Todd?” Nina said, with a tight smile on her face.

He just shrugged and took a seat next to Neil. Nina looked a little debased, so you placed a hand on her shoulder “Don’t think too much about it,” you told her with a smile, you could feel her ease under your hand “Where should we sit?”

“Come here!” Jane said as she slid to the side of the rug where she was so you could both fit in as part of the circle. Once you did, she took out the book and levitated it towards the centre of the circle, letting it float in between you all. “All right, session starts now.”

“Favourite parts?” Asked Clara.

“The chase scene at the end,” Said Neil “No offence Jane, but the book was a bit slow.”

“Excessive with the descriptions of abs,” added Nox.

“Nah, I rather enjoyed those,” countered the first boy.

You raised your eyebrows at that but nodded in agreement.

“I like the way they depicted the werewolf.” Said Nina, who was next to you.

“Yeah, especially on the sexy scenes,” added Comet with a cheeky smile. Alice hit her on the arm playfully “What? It’s true!” She retorted.

“I don’t know about the knotting though,” you added in.

Nox cringed from the other side “Please don’t remind me of that,” he said “I’ve been trying to erase those lines from my mind.”

“I found it rather interesting,” said Jane “That’s why I chose the book.”

“But it’s not like that in real life, is it?” You asked, trying to sound playful.

“Well I’ve never done it with a werewolf, but I highly doubt it,” Responded Comet casually.

“It’s not,” Todd said, everyone stared at him, and he turned red “I looked it up on a BOOK! Merlin guys!” that got a chorus of laughter from everyone.

The reading circle continued on, with its playful banter, jokes and a rather in-depth discussion of the relationship mechanics within the story. You actually had lots of fun, Nina was right, just because they had their head buried in a book, it didn’t mean they were nerds. Even if some people would see you from afar, talking about a book so gleefully and entertainedly, that they would consider you as such. Once the reunion was over, they decided on the next book that would be reviewed, Nox picked a wizarding world book titled “Point of Know Return” and he promised it would be delightful, with Pirates, mermaids and fairies and underwater cities deep in the pacific. He also promised there would be no knotting.

As the night started to fall, you realised the stars on the Ravenclaw ceiling became a lot brighter, you wondered if there was a spell that you could implement to make the same thing happen to the one you’d created in the Gryffindor common room. “All right guys,” said Jane, “I think we should all head to bed, especially our guests from other houses since you don’t want to leave after curfew.”

Everyone nodded and started to stand, as you grabbed the book they’d borrowed, you remembered “Hey Guys! Sunday’s the Halloween Party at Gryffindor, you should all come! Costumes are obligatory tho…”

“You’re inviting us? To a party?” Nox asked in disbelief.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?”

“We aren’t exactly the type of people that get invitations to parties often,” added Todd.

“Speak for yourselves,” added Neil “I’m down!” He smiled, yeah, he definitely reminds you of Prongs “I’m sure I can conjure something to dress up as before Sunday.”

“I’m coming too!” Said Jane with a smile.

“If she’s going I’ll be there,” Clara said as she gave you a thumbs up.

“Yeah, I’m definitely coming,” smiled Comet. “Minho will be there, won’t he?” You nodded in response. “Good, I’ll tag along with him.”

“I’d be lovely to see you all there!” You assured, and waved at them as you walked towards the door, Nina walked close behind you.

“Did you enjoy yourself?” She asked you with a smile.

You nodded “Yeah!” You responded excitedly “It was excellent! I’m pretty sure Remus and Lily would also love to join in, have you asked them?”

She seemed surprised but shook her head “They uh… they’re not like you. Remus is always very polite, but too closed off and Lily is always busy.”

“I think you should ask Remus,” you told her “I could ask him for you if you wanted,” you offered, but she shook her head again.

“I’d rather it was just a you and me thing,” she said shyly.

You raised an eyebrow at her statement but shrugged “Just us then,” you said, placing your arm over her shoulder, Nina tensed up with the unexpected contact and then relaxed back again, once she remembered it was you.

“I really like hanging out with you,” she said, almost in a whisper. You reassured her by rubbing the side of her arm with your hand, Sirius’ touchiness was rubbing off on you.

“I like hanging out with you too, luv.” You smiled “You’re coming to the Halloween Party, yeah?”

She shook her head “I’ve got a thing that day,” She told you.

“A thing? What kind of thing?”

“A date,” she mustered.

You stopped the two of you dead in your tracks “Shut up! With who? I thought you liked Remus. Wait… Is it Remus? He didn’t tell me a thing, I’ll punch him!”

“It’s not Remus.” She said and then frowned “How did you know I liked Remus?”

You arched an eyebrow “You should be more surprised no one else knew, I figured it out on the first day of study group.”

She laughed, “Well, I was pretty hung up on him then, that’s not a lie. But…” she cleared her throat “Someone else came around, made me realise Remus wasn’t really my type.”

“What?!” You narrowed your eyes at her, “Come on, tell me who!”

She shook her head, a diverted smile playing on her lips “No-uh.”

“Awww… Nina!” You complained. She just shrugged in response.

“You figured out who the first one was by yourself, figure it out a second time,” she replied. You smiled and shook your head at her response.

“Fine them, what prize do I get if I get it right?”

“Knowledge.”

You raised your eyebrows at her, “Not a Ravenclaw, remember?”

“Fine then, a kiss.” You gave her a look. “What? You wouldn’t kiss a girl?”

You laughed “I would, I have. Kissed Evans a couple of weeks ago actually.” You explained “But… I’m kind of dating Sirius now.”

She frowned as if the news were a shock to her “Sirius Black? You’re dating him?” You nodded “And is he aware you are dating?”

You opened your mouth, drawing a bit of air in before speaking “Well… uhm– he seemed pretty aware last time I checked.”

“What I mean is…” she started, shaking her head as if she wasn’t sure which words to use “Does he know you are exclusive?”

“I’m sorry?!”

“Sirius has a bit of a reputation…”

Finally, you understood what Nina was going on about and you smiled at her softly, she was worried about you, so sweet. “He knows,” you reassured her “We uhm-“ you cleared your throat “We’ve got a bit of history.”

“And what about Remus?” She asked then, curiosity getting the best of her.

“What about him?”

“I thought you’d end up dating him.”

Now you frowned “Remus? Why would I–“

“-you always seemed to be really close to him, from the day you arrived, really.”

“I…” you started, but you weren’t exactly sure what to respond. Remus really was great, very different to Sirius, but he had his own charm to him, and he was just as beautiful as your boyfriend, just a different kind of beauty. The more you thought about it, Nina wasn’t wrong, if you weren’t so enamoured by Sirius, you might have fallen for Remus instead.

“Nevermind,” she said as she discovered you weren’t saying anything, “Want me to walk you back to your dorm?”

You smiled “That’s so gentleman-y of you Nina,” you told her with a smile “But I’m gonna stop by the library on the way, it’s better for you to stay here, or you might be returning after curfew.”

“The library?” She asked, puzzled “What for?”

“I’ve been looking for a book,” you told her with a smile “for a little investigation I want to do on Magical Creatures.” Nina nodded, and pulled you into a hug before the two separated, she stayed in her common room as you walked towards the library.

When you arrived, the doors were closed and you carefully sneaked inside, not wanting to disturb anybody. You were pretty sure no-one had spotted you, cause even when it was past curfew, and you were still roaming the halls of the library quietly, attempting to find a book, you realized no-one had asked you to leave, the librarian seemed to have left too.

“You’ll have trouble for sneaking about at this time,” you heard a portrait say disdainfully.

“I’m not sneaking about,” you responded “It’s not my fault no one was looking when I entered.” The portrait raised an eyebrow at you, as if he thought what you were saying was bull. You stared at the old wizard for a second, narrowing your eyes and turned your back on him, still trying to find the book. As you scanned through the old bookshelves, you finally spotted a book that could be useful, “Dark creatures and the things that make them tick'' you were just about to grab it, when you heard a very low whisper from a couple of bookshelves behind.

“Merde…fuck-fuck.” You recognized that voice. You would recognize it anywhere. It’s Sirius.

You looked around, trying to find him, but no matter where you looked, there seemed to be no-one there. Since you had to move further into the library, to try to spot the boy, you decided to put a disillusionment charm on yourself, so you could walk more freely, and perhaps sneak up on him.

You walked through the lines of shelfs, quietly so you didn’t make much noise, but no matter how hard you looked, Sirius was nowhere to be found. Just when you started to think you had imagined it, and started walking back to get the Dark Creature’s book you’d found, you heard the creaking of a door. You turned around and saw how the door of the restricted section was being opened, by itself.

Finally it downed you, James’ invisibility cloak, Sirius must have it, you thought before walking up behind him. Or, at least behind where you assumed he was. Eventually you saw his wand come out of the cloak, along with his delicate but strong looking hand. You smiled, almost wanting to applaud yourself for recognizing your boyfriend with a simple “merde.”

You sneaked up on him, sharply placing your hands over his shoulders, He turned sharply, the cloak falling on the floor before he pushed you against one of the bookshelves. He narrowed his eyes, and then he drew in a breath “Mon Coeur?” he asked, visibly confused. Truth be told, he had smelled you earlier, but he assumed it was just that your scent had stuck to his own clothes from when you were sitting together in the common room earlier that day.

Finally you vanished the disillusionment charm and smiled “Surprise,” you whispered, he still had you pinned against the wall, hand bunching up your uniform threateningly, you bit your lip “I had no idea you liked it rough, Puppy,” you joked, a playful smile on your lips, as you eyed the way he was holding you.

“Shit, sorry.” He whispered, finally letting you uniform free, you quickly straightened it, and then turned your head back to him, “What are you doing here?” he asked.

“Came to find a book after the reading club with Nina.”

Then you heard noise and he quickly picked the cloak up, placing it over the two of you as he drew you a bit closer to him. “Shh, it’s Peeves!” He whispered, he probably didn’t need the two of you to stand so close together, nor did he need to place his hand over your mouth, since the two knew you were sneaking about, but he was certainly enjoying it.

And you were enjoying yourself too, especially when you slipped your tongue out of your mouth and licked the hand that was covering it. He made a disgusted expression when you did, pulling back and cleaning it off on his pants as he stared at you in disbelief. “What the hell?” He mouthed, the shadow of a diverted smile playing on his lips.

You shrugged, with a smile placed on your own, you found his reaction really amusing. You then looked to the side, the sound was further away, far enough for you to whisper “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for a book,” he said as he placed his hand on your shoulder, thumb brushing on your neck as he pushed your forwards lightly, motioning you to move.

“And here I assumed you’d come for a barbecue.”

He rolled his eyes as he chuckled “It’s for a prank, the one for the Slytherins that we talked about the other day, remember?”

“And you got commissioned to pick the book by the boys?”

“I was meant to come with Remus, he was feeling off, and I told them I’d come alone. I wasn’t really eager to spend a long time snuggled up against Wormy under the cloak.”

“But you were eager to snuggle up against Remus, I see,” you teased. He chuckled again.

He used his free hand to pull his wand out and illuminate the titles of the books as he read through them, he now stood a lot closer to you, his chest basically pressed against your back, you could feel it going up and down as he breathed. Somehow it felt different to when you sat on his lap, almost more intimate. Maybe it was the rush of sneaking about together, or maybe you were just being silly, “What are we looking for?” You asked him, turning your head to see him better, reflecting on how lucky you were a boy like that was your boyfriend. His stunning grey eyes, framed by his dark eyelashes, were scanning the bookshelves as he did.

“It’s a book called The Compendium of Pernickety Enchantments.” He told you as he continued scanning the shelves. You nodded and did the same. But then in-between some books, further down on the shelves, you found a small tome about werewolves. You had to take it. But you obviously couldn’t do it while Sirius was still there, or at least not while he was paying attention.

You had to think of something, a distraction, but one that wouldn’t get the two of you caught. And then you remembered Sirius was a boy, and there was one thing that could easily distract any boy “Hey Puppy…” He hummed in response, his face awfully close to yours, his long hair brushing against your cheeks “You haven’t cashed out on those kisses that I owe you.”

He frowned, giving you a look before turning back to the bookshelves “You’ve been too busy, haven’t you?” he responded, “with the whole trying to finish the book before the session and then the session today, on like our only bit of free time of the week”

You arched an eyebrow at that “You jealous?”, you teased.

“Well, you should spare some more time for your boyfriend.”

“How about I spare it now?” You said, finally turning to face him.

“Right now!?” He questioned, eyebrows furrowed as he looked at you, confusion evident in his face, we’re in the restricted section of the library!, he thought.

“Of course, if you don’t want to…” you said, with feign innocence and a little shrug of your shoulders. You were tempting him, and Sirius wasn’t one to resist temptation, let alone if it came from you. So he placed his hand behind your neck and pulled you towards him. You gently let your backpack fall on the floor.

“C'est une idée terrible,” he said as he finally closed the gap between the two of you.

“When have we ever been known for doing the most prudent thing?” you responded in between a kiss. And it was true, when you and Sirius were together it seemed like you threw caution to the wind, responsibilities be damned, fun? Pleasure? They always seemed to come first.

Sirius now had both of his hands on your face, expertly leading the kiss, as you pulled your wand from your pocket and started using it to levitate the werewolf book towards your bag. You felt terrible as you did, distracting Sirius with a kiss to take a book from the shelves without him noticing, even if it was harmless, made you feel dirty, and not in a good way. Sirius trusted you, and here you were, hiding your knowledge from him, even if it was because you feared you’d lose a friend over it.

When the book was safely inside the bag, you decided you’d make it up to him, and placed both hands around his neck, drawing him just a little closer to you and focusing absolutely all of your attention into the kiss. And that had you almost completely forget about the werewolf book in your bag. Sirius was kissing you hungrily, thirstily, like you were water and he’d been in the desert for days.

You weren’t too far behind either, his lips might have been the most incredible thing to ever be created. So incredible you almost wanted to bite them. And you didn’t hold back from that either, you gently bit his lower lip as the two of you separated slightly, panting for air.

“Did you just?” He whispered, but you ignored it, and went to place soft, wet kisses over his sharp jawline before using one of your hands to pull his hair out of the way and trail kisses all the way to his neck.

Sirius Black smelled incredible, of pine trees, musk and a tinge of leather, probably from the leather jacket he often wore, he smelled like an adventure, and you couldn’t help to be hauled by it. Sirius had lowered his hands over to your hips, and held you close as you kissed his neck, eventually you found a particularly sweet spot, and kissed away, stopping to smile as he stifled a moan.

“Shhh…” you whispered as you continued kissing the spot. Eventually his hand found his way to your waist, tucking your shirt out of your uniform skirt before placing his hand in the warmth of your back, his cold rings causing a shiver to rush down your spine. But his touch, oh, his touch made your skin feel like you were on fire. You placed your hands over his hair and pulled him back a little, bringing his lips back to yours. Both you and Sirius had kissed plenty since you started dating, but never like this, in fact you were certain he’d never reached for your skin the way he had today, but it felt good, and you didn’t want him to stop.

Eventually he stopped the kiss, letting his forehead rest on yours, his hand still in the small of your back “We should stop,” he said, panting.

“…don’t want to,” you answered, a little bratty in the way you’d said it.

“Don’t make it harder for me Starshine,” he groaned, as he softly bumped his forehead on yours.

You reached for a quick kiss on his lips “‘m not…” you replied, and kissed him again, now in the corner of his lip “I just–“ you kissed his cheek now “don’t want to stop kissing my beautiful boyfriend.”

“…merde…” he said, it was taking him all the restraint in the world to stop himself from pinning you against the bookshelves again, this time with your legs around him instead, but with you being so willing, it was harder, so much harder.

You looked at him expectantly “je m’en fous,” He whispered, and dragged the two of you onto a nearby table, easily hauling you to sit on it, you helped accommodate the invisibility cloak around the two of you, managing to set it around the table by the time he was kissing you again. You weren’t sure you’d ever felt like this before, especially when he reached his hand higher and unclasped your bra. He broke off the kiss to look at you, to make sure you were ok with it, you only brought him back to the kiss in response.

You moved yourself to reach him better, his left hand already in your abdomen, dangerously close to your breast, when, all of the sudden a vase, that was at the end of the table, tumbled and fell to the ground, making a very loud noise in the otherwise quiet library. You broke off the kiss, pulling apart just a little and staring at each other, both alert of what may happen, over his shoulder, you managed to see a shadow, it was peeves in the distance.

“Shit, we’ll get caught.” You whispered, turning back to look at him.

He looked at you impassively, as if he was itching to tell you the “I told you so”. You deserved it, but he very well knew it had also been his fault. He seemed to be thinking about the possible escape plans now, but he hadn’t found the book he was looking for by the time you started snogging.

“The book,” you whispered.

“You find it, I’ll distract Peeves.”

“What? No way! You’ll get caught.”

“Aw… put a little faith in me, will you?” He told you with a smile, “Find the book, I’ll see you just outside the library.”

You weren’t entirely convinced by his plan, but nodded, turning around to look for the book, while he got out of the cloak and used the same disillusionment charm you had used earlier. You took a deep breath, still trying to gain back composure from the kiss, and moved towards the bookshelves, scanning through the names of the tomes, trying to find The Compendium of Pernickety Enchantments. After looking through three shelves, you finally found the book, and right next to it, there was one called, The Refined Art of Mild Hexes: A Sophisticated Spellbook, so you grabbed it as well, since it looked like it could be useful.

You scurried all the way to your backpack, which was still laying on the floor from earlier, and threw both books inside of it. Once the backpack was securely hanged over your shoulder, you scurried outside of the restricted section.

You were already close to the door when you spotted Sirius, hiding behind a huge shelf, he was almost imperceptible, but close behind him was Peeves. Sirius didn’t see him, since he wasn’t looking towards him, but you could.

So even if Sirius had told you he’d deal with it by himself, you weren’t about to let him get caught, you had to improvise. You kneeled behind another bookshelf, cloak still covering your frame, and pulled out a piece of parchment, scribbled a small dialogue on it, and charmed it. You used your wand to levitate it to the other side of the library and then, you popped the seal. Now there were whispers coming from the other side of the library, Peeves smiled wickedly as he heard, and started flying towards them.

You ran towards Sirius, and covered him with the cloak quickly, he was a little startled at first, but then smiled. “That was you?” You nodded “Brilliant! It’s like you’re made for this.” He told you, and it was no lie, he was genuinely impressed with your cleverness, one more reason to the pile of why he was so smitten by you.

“Thanks,” you said, a small blush creeping up your cheeks. You looked to the side so he wouldn’t notice, he’d probably tease you mercilessly about it if he had. After a couple of seconds you took his hand in yours and did a small head gesture to indicate him it was time to move, Peeves was far away enough that you could sneak out of the library unnoticed.

A couple of minutes later, you were out of the library and speeding through the halls under the cloak. Sirius was the one leading the way now, he took sharp turns, taking you through stairs, doors, halls and even small passageways. He clearly knew the way by memory, and it made you wonder how many times he had sneaked about the castle like this, how many he’d do it with you from now on.

Another sharp turn, and he pulled you into a broom’s closet. Letting the door shut quietly behind you. “What is it? Did you hear someone?” You whispered in his ear. He almost felt guilty from the shiver that your innocent whisper had sent down his spine.

He shook his head and raised one of his eyebrows with a smirk “You said something about… wanting to continue kissing your beautiful boyfriend, didn’t you?” You looked at him with amusement, your eyes shining at his words. “Turns out he also wants to continue kissing his beautiful girlfriend…”

You were about to ask “here?”, but then again, why would a broom closet be any less proper than the restricted section of the library. You bit your lip and let him close the gap between the two. The common room would have to wait.

Disclaimer: This story WILL NOT include knotting; I also do not mean to poke fun at anyone who reads / writes it either, this was just meant for comedic purposes, and I firmly believe you can read and enjoy whatever type of smut you like. Now if you don’t know what knotting is… google it if you’re brave? But trust me, it’s not for the faint of heart.

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A/N: Is it me or is it geting hot in here? Next week we have the Q&A, you can send in your questions now for the long post, or save some for asks later that day, (The halloween special is coming and boy, is it going to be fun! One of my fav chapters tbh, also a tad angsty, but you'll see...) Ly, Lilly xx

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blueaetherr · 1 year ago

Text

future histories

pairing: jude bellingham x fem!reader [she/her]

warning(s): angst, gotg vol 3 inspired [peter q. & gamora]

summary: the one where past lovers consider life beyond their tragic circumstances

author's note: this is part 2 to this imagine which i recommend reading before this one. i'm currently re-reading the book that inspired part 1 (the sun is also a star by nicola yoon), which further inspired me to write this. i also haven't written in time so forgive me for any mistakes that may be here.

tag(s): @aechii

now playing: the miseducation of lauryn hill by ms. lauryn hill

Under the mature night sky, surrounded by the stars and the comfort of the dark, a celebration was underway—an engagement party. Somewhere rural and hidden by trees standing tall and all, there was a house hosting the party of the couple-to-be in the coming weeks. The fiancé, the fiancée, bridesmaids, groomsmen and beyond in attendance.

It was all wonderful, from the presence of everyone, the party atmosphere, Party Girls floating within and beyond the mansion. The night was set in motion and wouldn't stop for anyone until the early morning.

Still, two individuals decided to stray away. And there—wherever they wandered away to—they chose to remain in their own world, oblivious to everything else around them.

"You can't be serious, Jude!" Y/N shook her head and glanced at her friend with a pointed look. Watch your words kinda look. "Say that shit again. I dare you."

It was quiet for a moment before Jude decided to tune in again, shrugging with a smile growing on his face. "A straw has two holes."

Her face contorted, disgust evident even to the blind. "It has one."

Jude hung his head back as he let out a laugh, his laughter trailing into the night sky. Folding his arms, he asked, "You know two things can be true at the same time?" The straw debate was something that the two had been having for a few years. And yet despite his strong arguments and the backing of friends, Jude just couldn't get Y/N to be in the slightest way considerate of his side of the debate.

"And that's completely fine," she said, clasping her hands together. She was comfortable in her place and in her stance. "Just not when I make an argument for something. And I stand by what I believe."

"Okay, whatever you say," Jude raised his arms up in laughter, "Whatever you say, Y/N."

Debating with Y/N was something he always found himself enjoying. Not because he enjoyed the act of debating or because he would aim to propose an outstanding argument. It was more simply because he enjoyed watching Y/N debate, even if it was against him. Always was she animated in discussion, pushing 'til the end to prove a point that may not be entirely true. If she could somehow prove that left was actually right, then Jude would follow behind her and declare left as right.

After walking around the private grounds for some time, Y/N and Jude decided to rest and settled on a low wall. There, they were able to admire the manor house scenery. A location large and luxurious in presentation with its gardens, lakes and grass trimmed to perfection. Still, it remained cosy and informal with the absence of public bodies around; one could be unrestricted and alone with the infinite square feet that were free to wonder.

Jude and Y/N experienced both respectively, the loneliness over the freedom. Outdoors they were together alone, only accompanied by the displays of nature around them. Away from the celebration of the engaged couple, away from secret activities of the night, away and distant from the wonders that this ever manor had to offer. And when that realisation dawned upon the two everything from their talk to their moods fell.

Y/N sighed, her posture faltering a bit. "What are we doing out here?" After all, it was Jude who invited her to stray away from the party. One minute she was in the middle of a game with her friends and the next Jude was taking her away with no explanation, just pace.

Jude took her hand in his and glanced at her with a playful look. "Is it so bad that I want to get to know my bridesmaid?" Weirdly, everyone thought it would be the perfect idea to pair Jude and Y/N as a groomsman and bridesmaid together.

"Yes," Y/N scoffed out a laugh, removing her hand from his grasp. "I know a lot about you and I don't think I want to start learning more."

"That's fair, I guess," he huffed out a small laugh. But because he believed that what she said was wholefully true; he knew that other people shared her opinion so I guess that's where he had to agree. Jude then sobered up from his laughter, "I just wanted to talk to you."

Rubbing her hands together, she blew out a small breath as she looked around the vacant outdoor area. "And we have to do that outside?" The night weather wasn't too bad, though it didn't beat wanting to be indoors.

He sucked in a small breath as he rubbed the nape of his neck. "Yeah, sorry about that. It's just... I'm not tryna be inside right now. I mean..."

She meant to ask what Jude was talking about, but then she heard it. I Can't Help Falling in Love was playing, within and beyond the mansion. And Y/N could imagine the scenes inside. Everyone pushing the engaged couple to have yet another dance, ungrateful yet entertaining steps and twirls, aspiring partners taking the leap of faith with a dance that would probably lead to something more later down the line, lively dances and delight across the board.

Whatever purpose there was to dance—to sway delicately across the dancefloor, to lose oneself in the song, to hold wild thoughts regarding romance—nonetheless, it brought everything to life even if it wasn't there before. Romance, partnership, and lasting promises, all shared between two individuals. Every two individuals except for Y/N and Jude.

It was hard for them. Even though they felt nothing for each other, even though they could no longer feel anything for one another (and weren't actively seeking anything from each other), it still remained hard and unfair to be surrounded by all things love and ideal romance that reminded them that their relationship didn't work, that they themselves weren't deserving of a functional, lasting relationship.

Jude and Y/N were happy for the engagement of their friends, and they would continue to wish them the best until their final days. But being bombarded by all these things—being a groomsman and bridesmaid, everyone seemingly being in current or aspiring relationships—with their history together, one that they couldn't bring themselves to remember or hold onto in any way, witnessing their friends in the relationship that they failed to hold onto for reasons beyond them... it was overwhelming simply being at the engagement party.

"And I just want to talk to you without other people being around... without them judging us." It was weird for Jude. Being a football player meant eyes were constantly on him. He was used to it. Now people were giving him attention over his previous relationship and couldn't seem to shake off the feeling of unease off his person.

Y/N knew Jude's thoughts were real and justified. She heard the whispers speaking on her and Jude. From the wedding rehearsals to the engagement party. Both positive and negative remarks; wondering how they couldn't understand why the two broke up, speaking on why the reason the exes broke up didn't make much sense. That Y/N and Jude looked together, and that they should make up and get together for the sake of it.

In other words, the reason for Jude and Y/N breaking up wasn't valid enough in everyone's eyes.

She let her eyes trail on her legs as they swang over the ground. "It's— it's like people care more about our relationship than we do." She said it like it was a wonder, but Y/N knew well that that was just the reality of things.

"Don't even get me started with that," Jude shook his head before scoffing. "I get asked about our relationship—about you—a lot by friends and family. I mean I don't mind, it's whatever, you know? I expect now. But sometimes it's just too much. And every conversation is the same. How is Y/N? You guys still friends? I think you two still have a chance together. You should definitely ask her out."

"And I'm always polite with it and say, Y/N is fine. Yes, we're still friends I guess. Well, I don't know about that. We haven't talked about that. I hear what you're saying, but I'm not too sure about that. Polite with it. Then they'll ask me the same questions again or ask my parents. It's almost like... like..."

"Like they don't trust our judgements?" Even though she was never present for any of those conversations, Y/N and Jude shared similar experiences post-relationship. The questions, the questions repeated over and over again, the patience that came with having to deal with those repeated questions. There was something so frustrating about having to convince people that your past relationship would remain in the past with no hope of reviving it ever again.

Not only because they didn't want to; the moon and the stars just wouldn't allow it.

"Exactly that. It's annoying 'cause everyone wants me to do something I just can't do anymore... something I can't remember doing. Like," Jude inhaled deeply as he rubbed his hands over his face. He never really was good with his words. "There's something there but it's beyond me. I could love you but I just can't. Not because I don't want to, but it's... every time I want to step forward I'm pushed back. Like it's not my fault and it's not our fault either."

There were grounds as to why Jude disliked dwelling on their relationship. Some were evident, others not so much; one being that the simple thought of the relationship gave him false hope.

In truth, he was a hopeless romantic. He loved the idea of love in all of its forms. By offering and receiving, perhaps to and from his family, friends or anyone who could reciprocate it. Like the average person, it made him feel happy in many possible ways. And when he was consumed in all that love—when he was consumed in happiness—he was more approachable and open to everyone's questions about his past relationship with Y/N. That's where the hope fell over him every single time.

Maybe there's still something between me and Y/N. Maybe we did overreact like everyone is saying. We didn't try hard enough to fix our relationship. So when he was no longer so consumed in his hopeful thoughts, Jude would tell himself let's try again.

But then he would simply look at Y/N and reality would quickly pull him out of his thoughts. No.

Jude could try to find the humour in Y/N's words, he could try to admire Y/N for her beauty and flaws, he could try to remain consumed in everyone's delusions about his past relationship, he could try to indulge in their past romance through the words of his mom. Jude could try anything, yet none of it would change the fact that everything he ever felt for Y/N was compromised. Anything he would ever feel for her would be compromised.

He could no longer feel anything for her. She could no longer feel anything for him. The possibility of feeling anything held no strength to exist, and that realisation always left Jude devastated. They were a lost cause. We're never getting back together, and he just had to get over it.

But that was difficult when everyone would remind him of their relationship. So he was stuck in this cycle of false hope, where he couldn't find it in himself to move on. Truthfully, Jude was unsure if he would ever be getting out of it any time soon.

"It's not our fault. It never was," she said, moving her hand in small rotation on his back to let Jude fall into her touch. All Y/N could do was sit by Jude and comfort him. In fact, all they could do was comfort one another. Because everything Jude felt, everything he couldn't feel, she was right there with him. This would be a soft moment of solace if the circumstances weren't so terrible.

Yet here they were, outside all miserable and devastated by their never-changing circumstances in a scenery so whole and picturesque. While everyone was partying—celebrating and enjoying the declaration of love of the engaged couple, dancing in rightful and infinite pairs—Jude and Y/N could only share some physical attachment knowing that was all one could offer the other. They were strangers to romantic love, so caught up in this insane cycle of misfortune.

"It drains me having to think about it every day," Jude exhaled as he sat up. Having those conversations only came with one benefit; he could exhale everything he had pented up before. "That's why I just want to move on from everything, you know? It's been months since we broke up. Like why is everyone else so hopeful about us than us?"

"If only I could tell you. You'd think they would start asking whether we're both seeing other people by now." Y/N tilted her head in thought. Caught up in her relationship and everyone's reminders of its existence, she had the tendency to forget that she existed beyond Jude. Turning to him, she wondered, "Are you seeing someone right now?"

Jude scoffed out a small laugh as he shook his head slightly. He knew Y/N met well, he did. But he did feel like the answer was evident. I'm a mess, of course not. "Do you really think I would be seeing someone if I'm all in my feelings right now?"

"Just wondering, honey."

Seeing the unspoken apology in her eyes, Jude let his person falter a bit. "Not really, no." Since Y/N the most he could entertain when it came to girls was the talking stage and he would never go beyond that.

Losing the ability to love Y/N kinda left Jude a bit scarred. According to the delicate words of his mom, he and Y/N were once the perfect relationship, a relationship where she fell but he fell harder. But everyone knew how that ended. The fear of a new relationship ending exactly like his and Y/N's, the fear of possibly not being able to love, both ultimately shied Jude away from actively putting in the effort of pursuing girls he might find interest in. "I try, I do. But it's just a lot all at once."

"I think that might be the best way of moving on," Y/N suggested, "Maybe we won't be caught up thinking about each other if we're thinking about other people. It's hard, but it takes time. When you get there, you get there."

He nodded slightly. He wasn't in total agreement with Y/N but he trusted her judgement. "Yeah, maybe. Wait," Jude paused in his place before his eyes grew wide. "Why are you saying it like that?" Suddenly, it dawned on Jude. Y/N was speaking from experience. "Are you seeing someone?"

"Jude."

"Wait, why didn't you tell me before?"

"Just listen to me, Jude—"

"I literally dragged you out here. I don't want him to think I'm making a move—"

"Jude!" Her voice, firm rather than harsh, managed to reach his ears which stopped Jude from his ranting. Unknown to both of them, that was the same voice she had used to resolve problems during their relationship. When she was sure she had Jude's attention, she continued, "I'm not seeing anyone right now. I've just recently become open to it. That's all."

Jude's glance tracked around before returning to the person beside him. "So you're looking to get into a relationship?"

"Am I actively pursuing one? No. But I won't intervene if it comes my way." Y/N was once like Jude when it came to speaking to a potential partner. She was distant and denied guys when they tried to reach out over her fears of her relationship with Jude repeating itself. But over time her thoughts have eased and even though she wasn't exactly there yet, there was some noticeable progress to highlight. She was no longer entirely tied down to Jude.

She adjusted her sitting position. The wall they were sitting on wasn't the most comfortable. "I don't know about you, but I don't want us to be the one thing that people know us for. Like sure we ended on confusing terms according to everyone else, but what can we do? I mean it was out of our hands even before we met. I don't want to be caught up over it forever. We have to find ourselves moving away from all of that somehow."

Y/N learned a lot from her relationship with Jude. They were never truly a real match and they were invalid on many levels. Others could remember their relationship in ways she couldn't, to the point she could only dream of something so perfect and that left her dejected every time.

But moving forward she wanted things to change where she could. The perception others held of her and Jude would remain the same until time deemed otherwise. What she could change, what she could control were her thoughts and actions. Now she could think about Jude and tell herself that everything happens for a reason, that they were an unfortunate case but things happen, that it was okay for her to move forward by herself or with someone else.

She couldn't be so attached to Jude knowing there never was a future for them together in the first place.

"I get it," Jude frowned as he nodded along to her words. Logical and practical. He couldn't find himself arguing against them. He took in a small breath and offered Y/N a small smile. "Well, I'm... I'm happy for you."

"Oh yeah?" Y/N grinned though it was small and unsure. After all, she knew Jude was the more emotional one between the two. She wouldn't have been surprised if he hadn't been so open to her advice.

The thing is though, Jude was happy for Y/N, truly. Or, at least for the most part. Where he wasn't was simply just his current fears. His fears of being stuck in one place forever. His fears of being left behind. His fears of not being able to relate with Y/N on their unique experience of falling out together. Fears that if he lost Y/N then he would have no one to lean on, that he would have no one.

But hearing her story—something full of hope, clarity and purpose for something new—that's where he was happy. Maybe being a hopeless romantic wasn't such a dumb idea to have; he just had to shift his direction of thought and look forward to their future histories, separate or together.

Once again Jude offered Y/N a smile, one wide, kind and truthful. "Of course," he said as he brought her into a side hug, the two swaying softly in tune with the timid breeze. "That's all I can be for you."

Pulling away, Y/N asked, "You sure? I hope I didn't say anything in a way that would upset you. I just don't want us to bond over such depressing shit all the time." She had a feeling that those conversations would come to an end sooner or later.

"Yeah, you're right," Jude sighed with a nod, almost reassuring himself that everything would be okay moving forward. His eyes drifted toward the mansion where everything still remained lively. The discomfort was still there observing the scene, though he felt it diminish—and it would continue to falter with time. I'll be okay. "I get it and I meant when I said that I'm happy for you. I want that for myself too. It's actually not all that bad."

"Why do you say that?"

"You didn't hear this from me but apparently... I once promised you that I'd be the first person to walk you up and down the aisle."

And that was the last time Jude looked back at their relationship through his mom.

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