#sometimes i just write out of my arse

[teethearted]

@mountaindmned asked: -- what's the deal with this place? (For Jack! Hiiiii)

"You ever had one of those sleep paralysis induced nightmares? It's kinda like that." She shrugs, "You said you wanted to know what happened out here the other night and it's just easier if I show you." Mind-walking, not something she takes lightly. Mostly because she's still working out some of the kinks. "You're in my subconscious, but don't worry you get used to that feeling in your stomach. Now, are you ready? We're going back to last night. Try not to puke."

[rahabs]

#as always fuck patrick weekes what an insufferable dickhead (via @lambofsin)

You’re so correct. My revulsion and utter disdain for that man runs deep.

Well, on the upside, Veilguard’s absolutely horrid writing and utter lack of meaningful roleplay mechanics made me appreciate Inquisition’s already watered-down writing and roleplay mechanics.

[singmyaubade]

The Girl We Love

Poly!Marauders x Female!Reader

A/N: Hello! Long time no see; this came to me out of nowhere, and I just wrote it off the top of my head; I hope you enjoy it! <3 P.S. I have no idea what to think about this story.

Summary: Can all of them handle loving you at the same time?

Warning: Containing cursing, soon-to-be-smut, etc... Viewer discretion is advised.

--

The boys were enjoying their summer, basking in the hot sun and the chance to go in the pool anytime they wanted. Although it was just Remus, Sirius, and James, that was all they needed. Unfortunately, Peter was in France, but 3/4 Marauders was better than none.

"James, Sirius!" Euphemia yelled as James and Sirius groaned, not wanting to go downstairs due to their laziness, "I know you boys can hear me, and I am giving you five seconds," She yelled louder as the two boys looked at each other in fear as they both lunged to the door, James pushing Sirius into the wall.

"5..4...3.." The boys had rushed downstairs before two to see their Euphemia setting the dining room, "Why is Remus the only helpful boy in this house?" Euphemia huffed as Remus set down the dishes.

James ignored her, noticing the fancy table mats she would only bring out when people came over, "Uh, Mum, what's going on?" James asked, scratching his head, confused.

"Yeah, we never use this table unless James forgot he's human instead of dog," Sirius joked as James smacked him in his stomach, earning a groan.

Euphemia sighed, "Ms. L/N and Y/N are coming for dinner," She answered, setting the plates over the tablecloths.

James's mother and your mother were best friends, practically inseparable when you all were younger. Even when they didn't see each other, James would see her writing letters to your mom.

"Why?" James asked as Euphemia glared at him, "I just mean that we haven't seen her in so long, like since we were like thirteen,"

"You mean when you all would rough house and were into wrestling and Quidditch?" Euphemia hummed.

"The good old days," Sirius added, looking up in dramatics.

"Yeah, when you would tackle her and throw mud on us all," Remus muttered.

"Um yeah?" Sirius responded, "The good old days!"

Having you over was like having another brother around when it came to James. You always loved watching Quidditch and would yell with him when your favorite team won, chest-bumping each other.

You would always dress like the Marauders, wear whatever trend they were following, and play with whatever toys seemed remarkable to them.

You all ate like absolute slobs, and Euphemia and your mother would constantly reprimand all of you, but you didn't care because if you all did it, it was incredible.

When your parents divorced and you went to France with your Father, they all hadn't realized the switch in your presence as much. They would mention you sometimes but would only give it a short conversation. They were just kids; They didn't know much until later.

"This might be nice, you know?" Sirius said, "We haven't seen Y/N in so long, and I do miss having another one of the guys in the house," Sirius wrapped his arm around James's shoulders.

"Y/N is a girl," Remus corrected.

"You know what I mean," Sirius said, sitting in his seat.

"Wonder if she still plays Quidditch," James added, sitting beside Sirius.

"Can't wait to kick her arse in it," Sirius said, putting his hands together tauntingly.

Euphemia shushed them, "Enough of this talk, they should be arriving any minute now, and I expect the most from all of you," She tsked, moving near the door.

"She's talking about you two," Remus said, smirking.

"Oh shove it, Moony, you aren't a saint," James teased.

"Yeah, we know of your unspeakable acts in the bedroom," Sirius joked, winking at Remus as he bit his tongue.

James could hear voices from the front door as you stepped into view, hugging Euphemia, and he couldn't believe what he was seeing; none of them could.

Of course, you were different; the years did you well, but your hair grew past your shoulders, not the usual bob. You were wearing a lavender dress, a step away from your tomboy outfits. From what he remembered about you, your nails were painted in your favorite color, and you no longer wore a retainer everywhere you went.

Your dress hugged your waist perfectly, and none of the Marauders were perverts, but none of them could hide the fact that they were staring at you.

You looked at them with a grin, going over to James first as he stood up from his chair like a statue, "Jamesy!" You squeaked, the childhood nickname sounding different now.

You embraced him in a tight hug, your boobs pressing against his chest as he grew flustered. You pulled back, looking at him, "I missed you so much," You excitedly said, returning for a hug.

James could feel how soft your skin was, like a rose petal coated in shea butter. He had never felt something so gentle in his entire life like it wasn't real.

Once James squeezed you back, you moved over to Sirius, giving him a tight hug. His hands stayed on your back as your lips were on his neck accidentally. Sirius was never the type to blush, but somehow, you succeeded.

Sirius could smell home when he was near you, like cinnamon and hot chocolate, like a long day of Quidditch on the grass and Euphemia giving him a cold glass of Butterbeer kind of touch.

You pulled back, giving him a smile instead of words because moving over to Remus, pecking him on the cheek, and moving to a hug, "Remsy, long time no see," You giggled, giving him a hug as he smiled, trying not to let his thoughts get to him.

Remus could feel your happiness like sunlight as if it was glowing. When he hugged you, he felt happy like never before; it made him forget every stormy night or memory.

They all could feel your presence like a lightning bolt with each embrace, and it was hard to hide when you were up against them.

Euphemia and your mother were still chatting at the door, so you decided to talk with them about their social life as much as possible.

"I missed all of you so much," You cheesily said, sitting across from them all, "Please tell me how all of you have been," You looked at Sirius first.

You had developed a slight French accent, but only people would notice if they genuinely heard you.

Both Remus and James side-eyed Sirius, who looked shellshocked, "Well, I've just been focusing on school since graduation and just been enjoying summer," He awkwardly laughed, not knowing what to say, "I made Quidditch Co-captain with James,"

Your mouth fell open, "Oh my god, I am so proud of you guys; congratulations," You said happily.

"Thank you," James and Sirius said in unison as you laughed.

"What about you, James?" You asked, looking at him.

"I've been focusing on Quidditch and maybe becoming an Auror in the future when I'm done with my Quidditch career," James responded.

"I remember you always talking about being an Auror; I'm glad you still want to do it," You responded kindly, "What about you, Remus?" You looked at him.

"I've been focusing on becoming a healer or professor since I enjoy helping others," He said as you beamed.

"Well, considering you did help me when I cut my knee on the concrete when we were ten, I would say you are perfectly trained," You joked as Remus grinned.

"What about you, Y/N? What have you been up to?" James asked.

"Well, I hope to become a journalist or a write since it is a dream, but I was going to move back to London with my boyfriend," You said as all of the boys mentally punched themselves, "But then he cheated on me so I might just be alone," You said as the boys grinned from ear to ear.

"Yes!" Sirius said as you raised an eyebrow, "Yes, what an awful thing for him to do; I am so sorry, Y/N," Sirius said.

"Agreed, he must be a bloody fool," Remus added.

"I'm glad he's out of your life," James said, "Uh because, he's a horrible person,"

"Thank you, guys; I am glad I found out before I moved with him here," You said with relief.

Your mother and Euphemia approached the table, your mother sitting next to you and Euphemia sitting across, "I apologize, Fleamont couldn't attend; he has business matters in Rome," Euphemia said in a sweet voice.

"That man always focuses on business," Your mother tsked as Euphemia smiled before your mother looked at the three boys, "Oh my, how you guys have grown," She smiled dearly.

"You don't look like a day over twenty, Ms. L/N," Sirius winked as Remus elbowed him, causing the air to fall out of his lungs.

"Why thank you, dear," Your mother said genuinely as Euphemia glared at Sirius.

"First course is ready!" Minnie said, snapping her fingers to a variety of foods. Your eyes shot in amazement at the different dishes, even some being French.

"Thank you, Minnie," Euphemia said, nodding to the elf as Minnie bowed, disappearing.

"Y/n, how have your studies been at Beaubaxtons?" Euphemia asked, grabbing some potatoes.

"Delightful," You responded, "I know that it seems like a reform school for young girls, but I actually do enjoy it there, and we always watch Quidditch, surprisingly," You said as Euphemia grinned, "I do wish we had our own team though, I would love to play,"

"I'll play with you, Y/N," James said as the table looked at him, "If you ever need a partner," He whispered, digging into his chicken.

You cheerfully looked at him, "I would love to,"

James smiled to himself as Sirius side-eyed James, "And if you ever need another partner, I am here as well," Sirius added, making James kick him from under the table.

"Thank you, Sirius, I would love that as well," You said, still smiling.

Euphemia noticed the two boys rolling her eyes, "And your mother has told me you enjoy reading; Remus might know a thing or two about that," She said.

"I've needed a reading partner. The girls at Beaubaxton read, but they don't have much variety," You chuckled.

"Well, I can assure you that I do," Remus jokingly said as both James and Sirius glared at him, causing Remus to clear his throat.

"That's great! Considering I will be staying here, that sounds incredible," You said as James nearly spit out his dragon fruit juice.

"The cat seems out of the bag," Your mother said, eating another piece of meat.

"Oh, I apologize; you hadn't told them?" You said, looking at Euphemia.

"Not yet," Euphemia said with a slight smile, "Y/N and her mother will be staying with us for the summer,"

They all felt like they were in a dream that felt like reality; Sirius was close to pinching himself.

If they were thirteen again, they probably would've considered this a chance to have another Peter around, but now, it was entirely different.

You were sweet, still enjoyed Quidditch, and read while being entirely yourself.

You were like a dream.

"Trust me, they are all excited," Euphemia told you as the boys snapped out of the trance.

"That sounds amazi-" Remus started.

"I am so glad-" Sirius beginning.

"I can't wait to-"

They all said simultaneously, making you giggle, "I am excited too."

From then on, the conversations were light with laughs and banter, moving through the courses until Euphemia decided that all the kids needed to go to bed, to which James and Sirius protested.

They were all instructed to guide you to your room, to which you followed them up the stairs until they led you to a room with lavender walls and blue and white bedding.

You stopped them at the door, grinning ear to ear at the room, "Thank you all for leading me to my room," You said as they all said you were welcome at the same time.

You giggled, "I missed you guys so much," You said, hugging all of their tall figures with a kiss on each of their cheeks, "Goodnight, I will see you tomorrow,"

They all stuttered a goodnight as you closed the door.

And the Marauders didn't know they could ever want something so wrong.

[newtkive]

confectionary clash - carmen berzatto

pairing: carmen berzatto x afab!reader (established relationship)

summary: carmy's girl is the human embodiment of a sweetheart. that is, unless it's that time of the month and richie provokes her.

wordcount: 3.2k

warnings: swearing, fighting, weaponized incompetence from richie but we still love him.

a/n: this was meant to be a drabble but turned into 3k words. so it's written kinda like a drabble?? (hence the lowercase i can't be arsed to change) but just... long. idk hopefully its entertaining. also, i don't mean to demonize richie, he's my favorite character i think,, i just love writing him as problematic lmao cuz he's so funny. anyways, enjoy!

as carmy’s confidant and girlfriend, you were always the voice of reason. with just a string of words, you’d be calming him down after a hectic work day, giving him a fresh perspective on his work dilemmas since you were outside of the restaurant circle. in the time he’s known you, he hadn’t seen you do as much as barely raise your voice. maybe the occasional snap, but you always follow it up with swift apologies and big watery eyes.

that is, unless you’re in pain. specifically cramps. the sight of you 180ing from a sweet girl with a bright smile and even sweeter words, to an evil sorceress with spells rolling off your tongue, inflicting curses onto anyone who irritates you is jarring. a bit dramatic, sure, but that’s what you were during that time of the month—dramatic.

carmy tries best to dote on you. you would never ask him to go out of his way for something, unless it’s grabbing a heating pad or water, but carmy wants you to. it takes prying to hear your desires and cravings after asking a million times, and you begrudgingly give in with no expectations. nevertheless, you end up with exactly what you asked for, or something close to it, and you’re endlessly grateful.

on days when you stop into the restaurant when you’re feeling down, carmy enacts this same routine. if it��s food, he’ll cook it for you; desserts, he’ll grab any extras marcus has (or marcus happily makes it from scratch if they're not busy, claiming he needs the practice). if you want snacks, he sends his right hand man richie out to grab them despite your protests.

richie does it often whenever you stop into the store, and he acts like it’s a chore sometimes, but everyone has a hunch that he really loves it. come on, twenty dollars to get a few items for you and pocket the rest for himself? plus a break from work? done deal.

richie wouldn’t admit it, but he liked taking care of you too. you were always a sweetheart to him, but it wasn’t in his personality to be as sincere as you, so this was a little act of service to show his love. besides, the year and a half you’ve known him has definitely earned you the title of a friend, and you’d agree.

now, you don’t ever want to seem ungrateful, but when you ask for a specific treat, you get disappointed when you don’t really get it. maybe it’s the fluctuating mood talking, but you always end up snapping at richie due to his poor choices. if you ask for one thing, he’ll get you the next, and you even suspect he does it on purpose sometimes. pulling reactions from people is his specialty.

it’s not like you’re a complete bitch about it, because he took his time out to go get you something, but richie has a problem with weaponized competence even with his new and improved attitude. you know he can get you the jolly ranchers you suggested, but he chooses to grab goldfish because it’s closer to checkout. it was annoying, but you never really brought it up to carmy. it's not like you needed to, it wasn't a huge deal. you figured richie could use the little break, and you don’t hate the snacks he brings.

except on days like this.

you were at the restaurant on a slow day, dragged yourself out of bed despite your cramps just to see your little grumpy boyfriend and hide in his office. even as you entered the establishment through the back you glared at richie (who sweetly waved) in passing, side eyeing a few of the newbies who ran in front of you despite their apologies. none of your usual bright smiles and cheery greetings. the bee line straight to the office was a clear enough explanation for how you were feeling.

upon entering, carmy looked up in a panic, which quickly melted into a soft smile at the sight of his girlfriend. “hey, baby.” he cooed softly, immediately scooting back from his desk to reach out to grasp at your waist. you let him, but pushed down the irritation, not favoring touch at the moment. however, his rough hands sliding a little under your shirt to grasp at the flesh of your hips calmed you down, earning a small quirk of the lips from you.

“whatcha doin’ here, love?” he asks, bringing one of your hands to his lips to kiss softly, still looking up at you.

you shrug, squeezing his hand, face a bit stoic. you’d been like this for a couple of days so he wasn’t surprised by your lack of friendliness. knowing you this long, carmy became accustomed to your monthly mood swings, and he felt privileged that you didn’t feel the need to put up an act for him.

“missed you.” you finally sighed, scooting closer so you stood between his knees. palms found both sides of carmy’s face and tilted it upwards a bit so you could study his appearance. stressed and tired. however, he seemed to glow at the mere admission of you missing him. it took a few seconds for his brain to rewire, looking up at you like you created the cosmos. the only reason you heard his soft, shy, ‘missed you too’ was because of the stagnant silence.

“hungry?” carmy asked, beaming from the attention. you shrugged again, allowing him to tighten his grip on your sides and tug you onto his lap. whining a bit in protest, you reposition yourself, legs falling over his lap and arms around his neck. your faces were closer now, and carmy looked at your sad eyes with a little pang in his chest. brows furrowing, he tilted his head and snuck a hand under your chin. long, tattooed fingers tickled at your chin, and before you knew it you were giggling and grinning while batting his hand away.

“cmon, i know you must want somethin’.” your grin was infectious and laced in his soft words. you hummed, already cheered up, and tapped a finger against your chin to make a thinking face. carmy chuckled, brushing a lock of hair away from your eyes and patiently waited.

a thought crossed your mind and you met gazes again. “i might go grab some little debbie snacks from around the corner.” you decided and nodded to yourself as if solidifying your decision.

as you started sitting up more, carmy’s grip tightened on your waist. “ah, ah, no. stay here.” he protested. soon enough he was calling out ‘cousin!’ and richie came bounding over, opening the office door.

richie’s face used to contort in disgust at any visual sign of affection exchanged between you and carmy, but he was used to it now. “what’s up, cousin?” he asked, almost seeming out of breath, eyes flickering between the both of you.

a short exchange between the two occurred: carmy asking richie to run to the corner store, handing richie a twenty, and richie asking you precisely what you wanted. you made it simple and easy, something he could remember: oreos and ho-hos, a midwestern's guilty pleasure.

“ight, cap’n, i’ll be back.” richie says, saluting you two before heading out. both you and carmy exchanged an amused smirk, knowing the only reason richie went was to get himself some cigarettes and hot fries he would scarf down on the walk back.

__

in the twenty minutes richie was gone, the kitchen had gone to shit. the newbies had been running the wrong food to tables, online orders were filling the tablet nonstop due to a discount glitch, and carmy was close to losing it. sitting in the office, now alone with the muffled sound of your boyfriend yelling, you were more grumpy than before. arms crossed, you snapped your head to the side once the door creaked open. in walked richie with a plastic bag, inside of it holding your hope for a better day.

"what took you so long?" you frowned up at him, but sat up straighter in anticipation. you eyes almost shone as you looked at corner store logo on the bag.

"went the long way." he mumbled, digging in the plasic. the skeptical look on your face didn't leave as he pulled out an item and set it on the table. your frown deepened further as you noticed there was nothing at all you asked for, only met with a crushed sleeve of crackers.

“where are the oreos?” you sighed out, lips pursed in a bit of a pout.

“didn’t find any, so i got you some peanut butter crackers.” he mumbled, digging around the bag again, as if he didn’t just break your heart. if it was anyone else you'd believe them, but with richie you figured he just got bored of looking.

your jaw fell slack and you gaped like a fish for a moment, waiting for him to pull out more treats from his bag. but that time didn’t come, as he fished a pack of cigarettes out instead. “and the ho-ho’s?” your voice was hopeful.

richie perked up at that, putting the cigarettes down next to the crackers. the next second he presented you with a smushed mountain of brown and white concealed in a plastic wrapper sitting atop the palm of his hand. eyes flicking between the disappointment before you and his face, you frowned in disbelief.

richie only managed to emote as much as a ‘yikes’ face before placing it on the desk. “got smushed in transit, but tastes the same!” he gave his best attempt at a smile. your brows grew taut together and anger bubbled up in your chest. you were sure your face was quickly turning red.

“carmy gave you twenty dollars, and you come back with this?!” you hiss out, daring to look at the dry crackers and smushed up dream of a ho-ho. the sight only made you become angrier. this was something a senile old person would give you, not a competent 40-something-year-old man. his lack of care was clear, and you were boiling.

richie just scoffed—he had the nerve to scoff.

“no, not just that! i got a sprite and a few pack of cigs for myself and the guy.” he waved around one of them to prove his point. if you thought you were mad before, you reached a new level of anger. usually, you’d deal with the disappointment and thank richie for even going—aside from a smart alec remark.

however, the demon conducting your period for this month did not make your rational decisions seem clear nor enticing. as you shot up from carmy’s chair, you only knew you wanted to make richie as upset as you were in this moment.

with one finger poking his chest, you began raising your voice. as soon as you started talking, richie's eyes turned wide as saucers, exactly like a deer in headlights. a string of curses snuck into your tirade, between phrases such as “you always fucking do this richie!” and “are you fuckin’ dumb?! did you get dropped on your head?!”. you only figured he didn't fire back right away because he was so stunned.

outside of the office, the kitchen was calmer now. things were finally falling into order but still required carmy’s supervision until the sudden rush ended. the only disturbance was you. now, it was your voice yelling behind closed doors and not carmy’s.

the chef—in the middle of helping sydney plate a dish—just about gave himself whiplash with how fast he turned around to look at the barely cracked door of the office. there was the telltale muffled yelling, but what shocked him was it was clearly you yelling.

turning back around, carmy gawked at sydney who silently shared the same look of surprise. it was only until they heard richie start yelling back that sydney silently pushed him toward the door. it didn’t take more than a second for carmy to snap out of his surprise and march over to the office.

throwing the hand towel he was using over his shoulder, he yanked the heavy door open before all but body slamming his way into the room and slamming the door closed. the yelling was suddenly clear, as if carmy was being pulled out from underwater.

“YOU GET ME WHAT I ASKED YOU, OR GET ME NOTHING AT ALL!”

“THEN YOU’D BITCH ABOUT THAT TOO—“

“OR NOTHING AT ALL!”

“hey, hey, HEY!” the two of you were too busy at each others throats to even hear carmy enter, until his voice brought you both to a halt, heads turning towards him.

carmy’s eyes were immediately glued to you, not paying the least bit of attention to richie. your arms were stiff as boards to your sides, fists and jaw clenched, brows taut, and race beet red. the man had never seen you look like this before, and his instinct to comfort you took over. turning to richie with a look that could kill, carmy finally spoke. “what did you do?”

“what did i do?! except take precious time to get your girl shit she didn’t even want?!”

an offended gasp left your mouth, and you retorted instantly. “oh please! because a crushed up sleeve of crackers and a mountain of mushed up cake is just what i asked for!”

“you’re ungrateful.” richie pointed a finger at you now. carmy launched forward and slapped it down. he knew richie would never hurt you, and you knew it too, as you just rolled your eyes in response, but carmy’s instinct’s took over. richie didn’t even look phased, just irritated. carmy stood in front of you and forcefully turned richie around by his shoulders to send him to the door. if carmy didn't have half of a sane mind, he would’ve kicked richie's bottom with his shoe for good measure.

“go take a break chef! or do whatever the fuck, i don’t care.” carmy shouted after richie, and the man left with a slam of the door.

you simply watched the scene unfold with arms crossed and that same deep set frown. carmy turned around to face you as the air settled, a hand running through his hair. blue eyes raked over your tense form and carmy decided he would give you a little space to calm down. however, the second he saw your bottom lip wobbling and eyes grow watery he threw that thought to the wind

“hey, no, no, don’t cry.” carmy extended his arms and collected you into them. the tense posture you held relaxed into his slouched form as he held you close; one hand in your hair, and the other rubbing circles on your back as you sniffled.

a pit of guilt burned in your stomach and spurred you into attempting to bury yourself into carmy. blue straps of his apron rubbed against your cheek as you shuffled impossibly closer. usually, carmy would love this, but right now he'd do anything to not see you so out of it. shushing you, he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

there were a few beats of you hiding away before you decided to pull back a bit to face him again—and boy did you look pitiful.

the same cheeks previously bright with anger were now flush with embarrassment and stained with tears. a tattooed hand found itself sitting on your cheek, thumb rubbing under your eye to collect a fallen tear. at the touch, your eyes fluttered closed, and carmy’s heart broke at the sight.

“you gonna tell me what happened?” your boyfriend asked, trying not to make you feel even more guilty. his full attention was on you. exhaling slowly, your eyes fluttered back open and were met with those bright blue ones that always calmed you down.

“i dunno, i just-“ you shook your head and carmy waited patiently, “it wasn’t even a big deal, but richie just really set me off for some reason.”

“yeah, may as well join the club.” carmen’s words were light, not at all sarcastic, but aiming to ease you and bring out a smile. it worked, your lips turning upwards and carmy mimicking the half smile. he looked down at you with such love, head tilted to follow every time yours moved, and thumb caressing your cheek as he took in every expression.

your smile finally faltered as you glanced back at the office desk. “i feel so awful. he went out and got me stuff and i just yelled at him.” you sputter out.

carmy followed your gaze over his shoulder to finally see what started all of this. at the sight of the crackers and ball of what looked like mush, carmy scoffs in both disbelief and amusement, because of course richie would bring you that. turning back towards you, the chef finally gets it.

“baby, if someone brought me that shit while my insides were shedding i’d kill them.” he chuckled.

“really?” you asked hopefully, smile forming again.

“yes, really. even if i wasn’t goin’ through that i’d actually kick his ass.” carmy mirrored your smile.

nodding, you let yourself chuckle along with him. strong arms found you again and you were wrapped in a tight hug, allowing his squeezes to take away some guilt you were feeling. a moment passed and you knew carmy had to get back to work. with a sigh, you pulled back.

it was your turn to reach up and cup his cheek. guiding his face close, you met him halfway and pressed your lips to his in a kiss. lips moving against his, your noses brushed, and after a moment you let the kiss dissipate; lips slowly falling away from where they were molded together. one last peck was placed on carmy’s lips, as if saying, ‘thank you for being so attentive’. that earned an appreciate hum.

you both beamed, faces still close as you came back down to earth. “you gotta get back to work, and i gotta apologize.” you murmured and carmy nodded obediently.

with apprehension, carmy let you go, arms floating in the air for half a second as he walked backwards towards the door. “don’t go easy on him, though. richie lives for a fight. that was probably his anger management for the day.” carmy smirked, grasping the doorknob.

you just shook your head, eyes narrowed teasingly. before he turned to leave, you called out to him. “thank you, carmy.”

the man just gave you a confused look, chuckling. “don’t thank me, you're my girl.” with that he was back to work and you were left to your own devices. with one more glance at the monstrosity on the office desk, you left the room and went on a search for richie.

thirty minutes later, carmy was due for a smoke break and approached the back door. he slowed his tracks, lighter and cigarette in hand as he cracked the door and heard giggling. the sight before him was drastically different than before: you and richie sitting on a ledge next to each other, giggling and bumping shoulders. carmy breathed out a laugh at the sight and fully walked out. this caught both of your attention, grinning ear to ear as you clearly made up.

“hey, cousin!” richie grinned, and you both waved. figures.

[userlando]

cherry wine — lando norris

lando norris x fem!reader [6.8k] summary: this is what you got for humouring him. lando was bored during the break and needed something to latch onto, it was just unfortunate timing that he’d become weirdly obsessed with your journey to… climax. warnings: 18+ best friends to lovers, explicit smut, experimental masturbation, sex toys, public sex, oral sex (f receiving), inexperienced reader a/n: okay so HEAVILY requested and it was a lot of fun to write this so i hope you find this equally enjoyable to read it!! thank you for all your love lately, it makes my heart sososo happy. as always, don't be a ghost reader, i'd love to hear your thoughts :) ily enjoy

You walked quickly, one foot in front of the other to put some space between you and the restaurant you’d just been spending the past godforsaken hour in. The shoes you were wearing pinched your toes uncomfortably and you willed yourself to hold out for just a few more moments as your phone vibrated in your hand.

I see you, the text read and you looked around the dark street before landing on the McLaren parked by the curb on the other side of the street. It wasn’t hard to miss, given how incredibly flashy and shiny it looked under the street lamp.

You hurried over, like the guy was going to come out of the restaurant and chase you, opening the door and taking a seat with an exaggerated sigh, happy that the night was over and you were in a safe space again. You reached over and slipped your shoes off with a grumble, sitting upright and finally looking over at your best friend behind the wheel.

Lando was giving you a half-amused look, eyebrows raised with one hand on the steering wheel and the other holding his phone. His jaw was working incessantly on the piece of gum, and it was annoying you how it seemed to add to the smugness he was radiating. You gritted your teeth and gestured with your hand to the wheel.

“Couldn’t you have picked another car?” You asked, referring to the over the top McLaren you were currently sitting in.

“You say that as if I have more cars to choose from.” Lando turned the key in the ignition. “Besides, you’re the one who hates the Jolly.”

You grimaced because he was right, it was a humours looking thing and though your friend drove for a living, it was the most unsafe you’d felt while sitting in it. The car didn’t even have seatbelts or doors.

“Can we get smoothies on the way home?” You asked, changing the subject and it didn’t go unnoticed by Lando who threw you a sideways glance as he pulled out of the parking spot. “I’m dying for something cold.”

“Sure.” He nodded slowly and you knew what he was waiting for but you weren’t in the mood to indulge him just yet.

The date had been a disaster, as had all the other four previous dates. You’d let him choose the place, not expecting the extravagant restaurant with the overpriced menu but you’d brushed it off because you - quite frankly - refused to have another failed date. The night hadn’t gone better though.

“So, are you gonna make me beg?” Lando broke the drawn out silence, shooting you a half smile. “What was wrong with him this time?”

“He claimed to have forgotten his wallet.” You sucked your teeth in mild irritation. “We only had drinks before he was shamelessly staring at the waitresses arses and making them feel uncomfortable.”

Lando made a sound in his throat that sounded a lot like sympathy and you were grateful for it. He had a habit of poking fun at your disastrous dates and sometimes you allowed it because they were comically bad. But he could also recognise when the time wasn’t right and it definitely wasn’t, this time.

“He sounds like a twat.” He took a turn into your favourite convenience store and shot you a searching glance. “Don’t tell me you paid for him.”

You rolled your eyes. “Of course not, I paid for my part and then hid in the restrooms to call you.”

Not to mention the fact that the man had become so pissed that he wasn’t even there when you’d gotten out of the restrooms, not even bothering to stay around to hear your well rehearsed excuse. They had started to flow so naturally, with how many times you’ve had to use them.

Something about that made you very bitter and also hopeless.

“Good girl.” Lando reached over to pat your thigh. “Don’t let fuckheads like him walk all over you.”

You huffed out a humourless laugh, swatting his hand away and watching him unbuckle his seatbelt before reaching for his wallet between you. Lando paused and glanced up at you.

“The usual?” He asked, rather uselessly because you never picked anything else than mango flavoured smoothies.

But you still humoured him with a nod and watched him climb out and head for the store. You watched him in silence, tearing your eyes away when they started drifting down and scolding yourself for checking your best friend out. What the hell was wrong with you?

You told yourself it was because of the long line of failed dates. Monaco was full of twats and rich snobs who couldn’t see past their noses. It was hard to not take it personally though and you were starting to enter the dangerous territory of self doubt. Maybe you were the one who was too picky, or boring or even too inexperienced to know what to do with men who showed an ounce of interest in you.

Adulthood was truly a rude awakening.

The scuffle of shoes against pavement drew you out of your thoughts and you looked to your side just in time for Lando to open the door and climb inside. He was juggling two cups and a inconspicuous plastic bag so you hurried to grab the cups from him before he ruined the beautiful and expensive interior.

“What’s that?” You asked, curiosity getting the better of you, nodding at the plastic bag as you took a sip of your drink.

There was something in Lando’s face that unnerved you a bit, making you frown when he plucked his cup from your hands and thrust the bag into it instead. Whatever was in the bag was a little heavy, but your interest was piqued enough to set the cup in the holder and peer inside.

It took a second for you to realise what you were looking at, feeling your body go up in flames when your eyes finally registered what was sitting in front of you.

“Lando!” You yelped, letting go of the bag like it had burnt you. “Why — What —“ You scrunched your nose as your friend cackled, rather amused by your reaction. “Did you get that from the store?”

He nodded with the straw between his lips, looking all kinds of cheeky and you reached over to slap at his arm.

“I didn’t even know they sold things like these in there.” You looked down at your lap where the bag was resting, frowning a little dubiously at it like it was gonna come alive and bite you.

“They do.” He said, rather unhelpfully. “I won’t be able to look Mr. Lorenzi in the eyes after that but it was worth it.”

You let out a small laugh at the thought before you went quiet, separating the flaps of the bag and reaching inside.

Bullet vibrator, discover a happy you.

The slogan made you snort unattractively, waving the packaging in your hand and hearing it rattle as you gave the curly haired man a bemused stare.

“Why would you buy this?” You asked, letting him grab the offending thing from your hand when he reached for it.

He turned it in his hand, looking all too happy about it that it made something weird swirl in your stomach. You busied yourself with taking a sip of your smoothie, but it tasted like ashes in your mouth all of a sudden.

“It’s for you.” He said and you rolled your eyes. “What? It’s a neat looking thing. It’s in coral and it’s got… Twenty functions! Fuck me.”

His voice went up in slight wonder and the whole situation felt so bizarre that you couldn’t even find the right words to use.

“Why would you buy that for me?” You asked, a little irked and Lando must’ve sensed the shift of tone in your voice because he glanced up from where he’d been reading from the packaging, eyes a little wide in the darkness.

“You’ve told me about your problem.” He said, slowly like he was choosing his words carefully. “This might help you along a bit.”

“You promised not to throw that in my face!” You squeaked, feeling your face warm up and Lando jumped when you shot your hand out to slap him.

“I’m not!” He loudly protested. “I’m not making fun of you, I’m just saying. This will make you come.”

You slapped your hands to your face, not even caring about the makeup you’d spent hours putting on, and groaned loudly in hopes to make him shut up. It wasn’t like this was the first time you talked openly about sex, but you didn’t really like it when your masturbation habits were the topic. It was odd.

“I’ll never drink again.” You promised but you both knew it was a lie.

It had been a small moment of vulnerability, one that you barely remembered but you could recount the embarrassing parts and that’s what made you feel a little sick to your stomach. You’d come home after a late night of drinking and the both of you had sat face to face on his couch and talked about anything between the heavens and earth. You didn’t even know how it came up in conversation, but Lando wasn’t gonna stop you as you confided in him about your issues.

Okay, so maybe you had a hard time making yourself finish. Maybe you were more inexperienced than the average twenty something year old, but you weren’t ashamed of it. You were well and truly aware that everyone were in different stages of their lives but it still made you a little sad sometimes.

Especially when your dates turned out to be pits.

“Just take it, bug.” Lando slipped the package into the plastic bag and placed it in your lap. He started the engine and you took some comfort in the rumble of it. “Let me know how it goes.”

* * * *

it’s a 2/10

You fired off the text before you could overthink it, letting your phone fall to your stomach as you glanced at the offending phallic shape on your bed. Maybe you weren’t in the right headspace, or maybe it was just wrong for you. But it definitely didn’t feel right and you’d given up after twenty minutes of nothing but frustration.

The vibration of your phone made you jump slightly and you picked it up.

nooooo

did you give it a real try though?

of course I did, you melt

it’s just not working

The next time you saw Lando, was when Max had invited your group of friends for a pub crawl. Max had already ordered a round when you came stumbling in, a little late and warm from having hurried all the way over from your apartment. You went around to greet everyone with kisses and pats to the shoulders before taking a seat in the booth beside Lando.

He draped an arm over the backrest and poked you in the shoulder, prompting you to look up at him.

“I have something for you.” He said and you frowned at the smile on his face, shaking your head when recognition struck you.

You glanced around the table to make sure no one was listening in before leaning into him. Lando’s eyes flitted to your mouth when you got close and you did your best to ignore it and the flicker of heat in your belly.

Christ, you really needed to get laid. There was no way that you were finding your best friend hot. The very same best friend who’d burp in your face after having fizzy drinks and pee with the bathroom door open because he knew the sound of the stream made your skin crawl.

“Not again.” You whispered, a little sternly because you weren’t going to be put through that again.

But you figured that this is what you got for humouring him. Lando was bored during the race break and needed something to latch onto, it was just unfortunate timing that he’d become weirdly obsessed with your journey to… climax.

“This one’s supposed to be better.” He said, like that’d help you change your mind. “It’s a… stimulator.”

“Do I even wanna know what it’s supposed to stimulate?” You asked quietly, like your cheeks weren’t already fifteen degrees hotter.

It was clear that Lando was enjoying this way more than you were, smile too cheeky and happy and his cheeks were flushed. It could’ve been from the alcohol he’d consumed, judging by his breath but you knew that he wasn’t a lightweight.

Lando glanced down at you and your eyes widened at the smirk playing on his lips, placing both your hands over your crotch.

“I think you know.” He whispered, giggling a little when you pushed at him.

That’s how you found yourself staring at the new packaging on your bed, eyebrows knitted together in contemplation. You didn’t really know how something called a clit sucker was supposed to get you there and you really didn’t want to know where Lando had gotten it from.

You knew that if he kept this up, you’d end up with a nightstand drawer full of sex toys that did absolute fuckall to do their job. Maybe the few drinks you’d had earlier would help you relax a bit.

So with that in mind, you yanked your pants off and laid back on your bed, legs a little spread and eyes fastened on the ceiling. You tried to ignore the dread filling your stomach as you brought the toy between your legs, holding the button with the pad of your finger until it buzzed to life.

“Shit.” You swore quietly as you directed it between your legs, kind of enjoying the buzzing as you moved it around.

The moment it touched your clit, you jumped and moved your hand away. That hadn’t felt as good as you’d hoped, and you sighed in slight irritation.

It was like the universe was in on some kind of sick joke to make your life a living hell, because your phone vibrated on your nightstand and you glanced over to see Lando’s name on your screen. You ignored it, turning yourself around and laying down on your stomach to give it a second try.

The toy was still buzzing, making a sound that was a little bit distracting but also easy enough to ignore as you went under your panties this time. You knew that you should’ve probably worked yourself up or even invested in lube because you were everything but turned on at the moment. And not to mention how the dry silicone only made it all the more unpleasant.

Your phone vibrated again, another incoming text and you buried your head into your pillow to groan out loud before tossing the toy away. You watched it roll over the edge of the bed, landing on the floor with a clatter that made you grimace.

you tried it yet? ;)

I’m guessing by the silence that you have

It took a great amount of control to not roll your eyes at the winky face. You also refused to smile at how you could’ve easily imagined his face right now.

you’re taking an awful lot of interest in my sex life, it’s creeping me out

I’m guessing you didn’t….

???

get yourself all the way over there

Jesus. The amount of embarrassment you felt could probably be seen all over your face and you were suddenly grateful that this wasn’t a face to face talk. You sat up and leaned against the headboard with an exhale.

How were you supposed to say no, I didn’t fucking come, without actually typing the words? Your fingers hovered over the keyboard.

1/10

The reply was immediate, like he’d been sitting with the text conversation open and waiting for your reply.

oh what?! disappointing! we’ll do better next time

You pulled a pillow into your lap and hid a smile in it.

The next time, turned out to be five days later when he’d managed to pull you out of another horrendous date. The date itself had been fine, but the guy was everything but aware of his personal hygiene and it made you grit your teeth every time he smiled and flashed those murky chompers at you from across the table.

Lando laughed until he cried on the way home when you recalled the date, and you had to calm him down before he veered you both off the road. He’d only just gotten his car and you weren’t too keen to see it in a ditch.

“I’m swearing off of men.” You said when he turned into your street, making Lando snort. “What? I am. I’m convinced all the good guys are taken.”

Lando reached a hand out without taking his eyes off the road, pinching you in the side and making you squeak in indignation.

“Thanks for that.” He said sarcastically, referring to himself and his very available relationship status. “And you’re not swearing off of guys, are you mad? You just need to have patience.”

“I’ve already had plenty of patience, thank you. I don’t have any more in me to spare.” You rooted around in your bag for a hair tie, huffing when you found one to tie your hair up and out of the way. “I already put up with your stupid arse.”

“Hey!” He pouted and you smiled in apology. “You love me. And you’ll love me even more when you see what I got—“

He paused to reach into the backseat, and you watched with a slight bemused smile as he dug around until he made a sound of delight, sitting back in his seat. Your eyes zeroed in on the package in his hand, shaking your head before he even said anything.

“Not again.” You said in a whine, pushing the cardboard package away when he went to hand it to you. “We’re not doing this.”

Lando blew out a breath, pushing it more insistently until you relented and grabbed it from his hold. It was surprisingly heavy for such a small box.

“I’ve read that this is a game changer.” He said, looking a little too proud and it made you grin despite yourself. “Look, it’s even shaped like a rose, how cool is that?”

“Mate, you’ve got way too much spare time on your hands.” You giggled when he narrowed his eyes at you. “Fine. But you have to promise to let it go if this doesn’t work out.”

Lando opened his mouth to protest, shutting it quickly at your stern look and nodding once. It didn’t look believable in the slightest.

“Okay. Yeah, promise.” He said and you nodded, reaching over the console to press a quick kiss to his stubbled cheek in thanks for saving you yet again.

You climbed out of the car and closed the door, waiting until he’d rolled the window down all way. There was mischief written all over his face and somehow you knew he was gonna say something obnoxious as parting words.

“I expect updates tonight.” He said, wagging his eyebrows and you smiled, turning around before he could see how absolutely flustered you became.

“Don’t hold your breath.” You shouted over your shoulder, walking up to your apartment complex.

Once you were inside, you grabbed a quick shower to wash the night away and poured yourself a sad looking bowl of cereal before getting into bed with your laptop in your hands. It was still early, too early to sleep so you figured a few episodes of a show wouldn’t ruin your sleep too much.

It proved to be too boring for your overactive mind. You’d devoured the cereal and was now laying, sunken down in bed with your mind wandering and attention not at all on what was happening on the screen. You hit the space bar button to pause, eyes drifting to your nightstand where the newest toy sat, innocently but so mocking.

You narrowed your eyes at it, staring for a minute before you reached for it and pushed the laptop off to the side.

“Fucking Lando.” You cursed him quietly, ripping the package open and fishing the innocent looking rose out.

It was pink, on the verge of red and it looked very pretty to be a vibrator. You located the button, holding it down until it came to life and your eyes climbed to your forehead as you pressed on the button again; cycling through the different powers and rhythms.

It felt like clockwork, sinking down into bed and closing your eyes with a deep breath. A frown etched itself on your face when you reached into your sweats and underwear with it, feeling it buzz away until you located your clit and the strength of the vibrations made you gasp.

It wasn’t too much too soon, but kind of perfect and a spark of hope flared in your chest as you thought that, maybe this was it. Maybe you’d found the toy that would bring you high enough and tip you over the edge.

A little moan left your lips as you closed your eyes, letting the toy do its work and you couldn’t help but smile slightly at the pleasant feeling. You’d never really gotten the joys of female masturbation when your friends talked about it, but you were starting to.

Your newfound hope didn’t blossom into anything bigger though, because it took about ten minutes before you realised that you wouldn’t be taken much further than you already were. It felt good, but it wasn’t mind blowing. And frustration started to seep into your pores before you angrily yanked your hand out and tossed the toy away after switching it off.

You reached for your phone, teeth gritted because you wouldn’t cry out of frustration. You wouldn’t.

maybe a life of celibacy is healthier for me

The response came in a minute later.

don’t be stupid

was it that bad?

it was… fine. but it wasn’t enough

There was no reply after that, and you chewed your lip. Maybe you’d gone too far with discussing your masturbation and lack of orgasms with Lando. You’d been best friends for so long that the lines were starting to blur. You’d never known any boundaries between the two of you, and that’s how you both liked it. But there was something different about this whole thing. It felt different.

Your phone vibrated once again and you glanced down.

I’ll do more research

The text made you smile despite yourself.

we won’t give up

A week later, you found yourself up in the mountains overlooking Monaco. Lando was sitting beside you, dressed nicely in a suit that he’d definitely ruined by sitting on the grass and you were in a dress that looked pretty but was a little stifling to wear. There had been a gala earlier tonight and Lando had begged you to come with him, even though the both of you despised anything that had to do with overpriced champagne and snooty people.

You’d had a good time despite yourselves, bumping into a few friends from the grid and dancing the night away before it was time to call it a night. Lando hadn’t been ready to go home just yet though, so you’d driven out to your favourite spot in the city.

The lights from the houses and the marina was glittering, the water so mesmerising that you couldn’t tear your eyes away. It was a beautiful night, not too hot but pleasantly nice.

“I have another date on Wednesday.” You told Lando, breaking the comfortable silence.

The man in question turned his head to look at you, and you saw his eyebrows furrow in mild intrigue.

“Another loser?” He joked, but his tone felt a little too flat and it made something weird turn in your stomach.

Usually he was way more interested and would fire off multiple questions before asking to see pictures. You chalked it up to him being tired from a long evening and hummed, scooting closer to him to rest your head on his shoulder.

He immediately turned his head and pressed his lips against the top of your skull, like he was on autopilot. It was something he often did, but it still managed to make your heart jump a little.

“He seems nice.” You told him truthfully. “Probably not a relationship type, but he seems like a good time.”

Your hair ruffled when Lando huffed out a humourless laugh and there was something so off about it that it made you pick your head up from his shoulder and look at him in confusion.

“What?” You asked, feeling a little defensive all of a sudden. “I’m trying to think positive.”

“Why don’t you hold off a bit on the dating? Let the guys come to you instead.” He suggested, glancing away from your probing eyes.

You could read him too well and it unnerved Lando beyond belief.

“I’ve tried that, it doesn’t work. I either get someone who doesn’t know what basic hygiene is, or someone who flirts with other people in front of me, a guy who snaps at waiters and not to mention the men who find out I’m friends with the Lando Norris and will go above and beyond to have a chance to meet you.”

“Don’t say that.” He grimaced and you pulled back a bit, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Don’t say what?”

“My name like it’s something inconvenient for you.” He took in your pinched facial expression and softened his tone a bit. “I’m just saying you deserve way better than what these tossers can offer you.”

You stayed quiet, opting to lay down on your back with a sigh instead. He was right, but you weren’t about to say it out loud.

Lando wouldn’t have that though, laying down on his side and propping his elbow on the grass to stare at you. You tried to hold back the smile threatening to spill, because he was hovering over you and looking adorable that it was impossible to stay annoyed.

“Are you mad at me?” He asked, smiling like he knew the answer was in the negative because he was well aware that you could never stay angry with him. “You can’t stay mad at me, I’m too cute.”

You placed your palm against his face and pushed at it, hearing and feeling him laugh against your hand until he reached to grab and yank it away from his face.

He turned your hand and pressed a kiss to your palm, the gesture all too intimate for it to be between two best friends and it took everything in your power to not read into his small gesture. You held your breath when he turned your hand over and gazed at it, face contemplative; Lips downturned in thought and brows knitted together.

“Have you used your hands before?” He asked and you smiled in slight confusion, not expecting the odd question.

“No, I use my feet.”

Lando pinched the thin skin of your wrist in retaliation and you squeaked out a laugh.

“I meant for… Your experiments.” He grimaced at the words and you knew he used that to lessen the embarrassment from your part. It didn’t do much though, not with the way he was staring at you like he was looking into your soul.

You held your breath, staring at his face and you knew that yours was heating up faster than you could blink. But it was hard to look away from the way his pupils were starting to expand, trapping his bottom lip with his teeth in what you knew was a nervous tick.

“I wouldn’t know how.” You told him truthfully after a long stretch of silence. There was no way for you to correctly use your fingers on yourself when a toy couldn't give you an orgasm.

"Do you want me to show you how?" He asked, voice quiet and you could feel your eyes widen before you could stop them.

There was a moment where you thought you'd heard wrong, that your sanity had finally gone out the window but Lando was looking at you like he was waiting for a response and there was some conflict in his eyes that you were sure that your eyes were reflecting.

What did this mean for your friendship? Would this ruin everything? What if he just wanted to satisfy his own fucked up needs and then pretend like nothing happened? Those were questions that you wanted to ask, but it wasn't what came out of your mouth when you opened it.

"Yes."

Lando looked as surprised as you felt, like he hadn't expected you to agree to his insane proposition but it didn’t mean that he felt immense relief. He hadn’t really thought of how he’d react or what to even say if you had turned him down. All he really knew was that this had been playing in his mind ever since that damned night when you’d confessed to him. He couldn’t get the image of him between your legs since then.

He hadn’t expected to feel a surge of jealousy when you started going on your dates, but he’d hated every minute of it. It had only lessened the sting a bit when he realised that they were all essentially going nowhere and that Lando was the one who got to pick you up at the end of the night. Minus the fact that he hated how down you were after the dates. But he had the opportunity to be there and cheer you up whenever you needed it, so he counted that as a win. Anything that involved your smile that he was the reason for, was a win.

They were new feelings, but Lando suspected that they’d been laying dormant since your teenage years. They’d only ever surfaced when you talked to potential boyfriends, but he always managed to squash those feelings before they grew into something ugly and act like nothing was bothering him.

That’s probably why Lando’s hand was shaking a bit when it found a home on your thigh, slowly pushing up the silk of your dress and he couldn’t bring himself to look away from your face; caught in your stare. He could see how nervous you were, bottom lip caught between your teeth and chest moving with every quick breath you took.

Lando stopped momentarily because maybe you didn’t really want this. You looked almost scared, and that was enough for him to withdraw. What he didn’t expect was for your hand to find a place on the back of his head, messing up his perfectly styled curls and bringing him closer to your face.

It didn’t take much to get him where you wanted, and he found himself so close to your face that he could feel your breath against his lips. Lando was convinced that nothing was as intoxicating as that.

“This is mad.” You whispered, lip touching his as you spoke and Lando struggled to not groan out loud at that one brush.

“Definitely.” He nodded in agreement, watching your lips curl up into an enticing smile that calmed his nerves down. “Do you still want this?”

Your eyes flickered between his, like you were trying to gauge his reaction when you nodded.

“Do you?” You asked and Lando couldn’t dig deep enough to find the words, so he did the next best thing.

The small whimper you let out against his lips rattled something in Lando’s chest, pressing his mouth against yours in a kiss that had your toes curling and your hands grabbing desperately at his hair. The slight sting in his scalp made him open up under your lips, and he swore he must’ve died and gone to heaven when your tongue brushed his. It was like his skin was cracking open and you were touching his exposed nerves, feelings so on edge when you hadn’t even done anything but kiss him.

You were so into the kiss that you almost forgot where you were, thighs tensing a bit when your dress was pushed up and cool air hit your naked thighs. Lando pulled back enough to look at you, giving you an encouraging smile as his hand travelled up your inner thigh.

It was a struggle to keep your eyes open and on him when his fingers brushed over your clothed pussy, but it was worth it to see his mouth hang open when he felt the lace. You were warm against his skin, and he had half a mind to say fuck it and bury himself deep inside your warmth.

But he had to remind himself to slow down, take a breath and focus on you because you may have relaxed a bit; But Lando had known you for so long that he could read your body.

“This feels nice.” He commented, running his fingers over the material and you couldn’t help but laugh. “What colour are they?”

You knew it was his way of breaking the tension and hopefully relieve the anxiety blooming in your chest, and it surprisingly worked when you tilted your head up to give him a kiss that he was eager to respond to.

“Why don’t you find out?” You murmured and Lando’s eyebrow jumped, cheeky and excited as he placed his other arm on the other side of your body to straddle you.

He probably should’ve cared that his fancy dress pants were rubbing against the grass when he knee-walked down your body, but he was too preoccupied with staring at you. Your chest was heaving, and he could almost see the pebbles of your nipples against the satin material of your dress. He wondered if you wore a matching, lacy bra or if you’d opted to go without, eager to find out later.

Lando was a man on a mission, pushing your dress up to your abdomen and kneeling between your legs. He glanced down, heat flaring up in his body when he got a peek at the cherry red lace, hiding so much but so little.

He stroked a finger down between where he presumed your lips were, hearing you take a shuddering breath above at the sensation. You were looking at him, feeling turned on beyond belief and the feeling was so new that you didn’t know what to do with it.

The feeling only intensified when his finger located your clit, caressing the sensitive nub in small circles until your legs were shaking, thighs tensing.

Lando was like hypnotised, taking in every hitch in your breath and every jerk of your body until he felt like he’d burst if he didn’t get his mouth on you. He probably should’ve warned you beforehand, but he took a little pride in the surprised squeal you let out when he opened his mouth and slotted it over your pussy, sucking until he tasted your slick through the lace.

“Lando!” Your voice was breathy, scandalised and you put a hand over your eyes when you looked down and saw him staring at you.

He looked… depraved. And it did something funny to your stomach. You'd never seen him like that and you didn't really think you'd ever get to experience it.

You'd thought about it, even allowed yourself a night to fantasise about the way he'd look and what he'd say if you were ever in this position, but those were thoughts you didn't let yourself drift into too often. It was a dangerous thing to imagine having sex with your best friend, yet here you were - experiencing it. Outside, nonetheless.

"Oh, fuck." You stuttered out when he hooked his fingers into the crotch of your panties and pulled them to the side, the cool air hitting the very slick center.

The unexpected feeling had you squirming, bucking your hips up and huffing out a laugh when Lando glanced up at you, feeling a little embarrassed to be so needy.

"You're so sensitive." He pondered, sounding a little amazed before he stuck his tongue out in a crude fashion and licked up your pussy. "You're gorgeous, bug. Those guys are missing out on something great."

That got an eye roll from you, but it didn't stop the zip of heat from racing up your back at his words. You could feel him flattening his tongue to lick every part of you, like he couldn't get enough of your taste before he got your clit into his mouth and sucked.

He tried not to feel too smug when you moaned, head tilted back and facing the sky, like you were praying to whatever was up there. The stretch of your neck was gorgeous, so spotless that he had the sudden urge to sit up and mark the sensitive skin of it with his mouth and teeth. But he sat put, focusing on eating you out with an eagerness he'd never really felt before.

It didn't take you long to really become vocal, and it honestly surprised Lando because he'd always pegged you for a quiet one. Not that he complained; the sounds you were making had his pants feeling tight.

"It feels—" You trailed off into a stuttered moan that made Lando reach down and squeeze himself through his trousers, moaning into your pussy at the slight relief he felt. "Lando, fuck, I'm gonna..."

You didn't finish your sentence, too lost in the multiple sensations you'd never felt before but Lando could guess what you were trying to communicate. He kept at it, watching your face as it scrunched up and your mouth dropped open, groaning out your climax as it washed over you.

It felt better than you'd imagined, stomach clenching up and toes curling as you shut your eyes so tightly that you saw stars behind your eyelids. You weren't sure how long you were out of it, or how your hands had managed to find their way to your best friend's hair. Lando laved his tongue over your center, steering clear of your sensitive clit but he couldn't help but bump against it a few times just to hear your breath hitch.

The third time he did it, you pushed him away with an exhausted grumble, hearing him laugh as he stretched up to kiss below your navel. The pecks were so tender and sweet, a stark contrast to how he'd ate you out like a depraved man just minutes ago, and it filled your belly with so much warmth you didn't know what to do with it.

You made a confused sound in your throat when he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties and drew them down your legs, bunching them up in his hands.

"These are mine now." He said casually, cheek deepening into a dimple and you raised your eyebrows.

"No..." You dragged out the word, reaching out your hands to grab the flimsy material from his grip but he was quick to turn away, batting your hands away with small, teasing tuts. "Those are my fancy pair, you twit."

Lando shoved the underwear into the pocket of his trousers, ignoring your protests and silencing them rather quickly by leaning over to kiss you. And shut you up it did, because that was the last thing you expected but it wasn't necessarily unwelcomed.

He opened up his mouth under yours, kissing you deeply and allowing you to taste yourself and something about that made your legs tighten up around his body where they'd been previously splayed out.

"I'll buy you more underwear." He promised after pulling away slightly, giving you a smirk that made your head spin. "Only if I'm the only one allowed to see them from now on."

You huffed out a laugh, pushing his face away with your hand. He rolled over and laid down beside you, and you sat up with the help of your shaky arms.

"You're a walking cliché." You said, shaking your head slightly. "But I won't say no to free stuff.”

He reached a hand out to pluck a leaf off your hair, flicking it away before turning his attention to you.

You suddenly became aware of what you’d done, nerves humming just under your skin and your conflicting emotions must’ve shown on your face because Lando scooted closer to you and grabbed your hand.

“We’re okay?” You asked quietly, staring down at your intertwined hands and how his thumb brushed across the back of your hand. The way he always did when your anxiety was acting up.

“Of course we are.” He assured you, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to your naked shoulder.

You knew that you’d have to have a longer talk about what this meant for the both of you in the future. But you pushed it to the back of your mind for tonight, snuggling up to your best friend’s side and laying your head on his chest.

You did believe him though. No matter what, the both of you would be okay.

[ellecdc]

I just took my dog for a walk in this god awful weather and I had a thought.

One I have a head cannon that the black brothers have awful circulation due to incest, but besides the fact.

Sirius loves being padfoot in the winter because he gets extra cuddles that being said he will need walked and will whine until he gets taken outside but the second he gets outside he turns around a gives puppy dog eyes. This will go three ways

1.) James will yield and they’ll go back into the house

2.) Remus is firm, this is what you wanted so we’re going on a walk (it’s a short one but still)

3.) Reader is 50/50 on actually following through with walking Padfoot sometimes she will sometimes she won’t

omg okay first of all this thought is hilarious, secondly, it made me think of how my dog does this brilliant thing in the winter that is SO Sirius coded..... so I wanted to write that

Sirius Black x gn!reader who takes Padfoot for a winter walk [431 words]

CW: could be poly!marauders if you wanted? or at the very least poly!wolfstar since Remus was mentioned, but Sirius is the only one present

You could hardly see; your vision reduced to the thin space between the top of your scarf which covered your nose, and your thick woolen hat that fell just below your eyebrows. 

Your hands - donned in the thickest pair of mittens you could find - were also jammed inside the pockets of your very plush winter jacket, making you resemble a marshmallow more than you did a human.

But fair was fair, and if Sirius had to - “freeze my arse off when you dragged him around various Christmas markets-” “you could stand to wear mittens, you know…” you’d tried to argue, only to be met with the very unimpressed look of your boyfriend. “What mittens would ever match my punk rock image, gorgeous?” - then you could freeze your arse doing this.

This being taking your twenty-something-year-old boyfriend on a walk, except your boyfriend was currently a very large, very excited, very goofy black dog bounding through the piled up snow that had been shoveled off of the sidewalks for pedestrians. 

“The things we do for them, eh?” A man bundled up to similar degrees as you commented from across the street whilst his own dog forced him to pause to sniff a pole very thoroughly. 

You let out a slightly nervous laugh. “You can say that again.”

You turned around to see what the bloody hold up was - wishing you’d heeded Remus’ suggestion to ‘put a lead on the bloody beast’ before you left - to notice Padfoot limping towards you rather pathetically, his front right paw raised in the air as he hobbled towards you what could only be described as theatrically on three legs.

“Oh, what is it now?” You muttered under your breath, though you dutifully turned your body to give your pathetic canine-boyfriend your undivided attention.

A pitiful whine escaped the large dog as he sat, holding his paw up further to you; the gathering snow creating small balls of ice between the pads of his toes combined with the street salt clearly aggravating his paws.

“Hm? Sore? Which one?” You cooed, causing the dog to nearly wave his sore paw at you.

You presented the dog your mittened hand, barely offering two gentle squeezes of the offending limb before the dog was reclaiming his paw and happily trotting on ahead of you - snow balls and salted wounds forgotten.

“The drama, am I right?” The guy laughed, waving as his dog finally deigned to carry on a few feet ahead to the next pole for sniffing.

“Sir,” you started around a laugh of your own, “you have no idea.”

[laswells-ashtray]

What if Sergeant Price was originally a weapon before he met Mac and Kate? I feel like it’d be a lot similar to how Price met Nik: a violent man turned informant.

I also think he reverts back to his old self sometimes, most likely in high stress situations or if someone crosses a boundary.

Anyhow, this is just food for thought. Love ya pooks!👋🏻

Firstly, being called pooks made my day. Love that. Secondly, for that reason, I shall be answering this before I close my puter and make shortbread. After getting to the end of writing this little tidbit I gotta say, one of the best asks I've ever received. It came to me like I was spitting the prophecy, it was such an easy write.

Ghost notices, he picks up on John's posture and demeanour when their mission gets fucked. Their intel was off and Ghost won't be surprised if they leave with a fatality amongst the group. But he sees John go from Captain who they were joking over comms with to John fucking Wick in a matter of seconds. They're violent people, the job calls for it but John is lethal. He pulls a man off of Gaz and snaps his neck when the cunt won't stop struggling, he doesn't blink when they look at him wide-eyed. He just moves on and plunges a knife into someone else.

Ghost watches him take a punch before he shoves a man's open mouth over the edge of a table and slams his boot into the back of his head, they all hear the crack of his jaw and Soap puts a bullet between the poor sod's eyes to put him out of his misery.

The way John moves is instinctual, it's like he's stuck in fight or flight only John has never been one to flee. Someone tries to attack him from behind with a crowbar while he's prying open a door and John beats the man with it until one of his eyes starts to gouge out of the socket. He's covered in blood, known of it his own and he doesn't seem to be aware of it. Or entirely present and that's what sets them all on edge, he's relying on some kind of instinct or past training.

And then suddenly it's over, the bodies stop coming and they're back at exfil waiting for Nik to arrive. The Russian isn't supposed to be there, no one comments on it. They'd all rather it be Nik than some wanker that none of them know as the adrenaline stops thrumming in their veins. John responds to Laswell over comms but he's detached, they can all see it and from the worry in Kate's tone, she can hear it.

When Nikolai, the glorious bastard, arrives with his precious heli he doesn't tell them to jump in like he'd usually do. He takes one look at John before getting out and approaching him like one approaches a stray cat. He doesn't wrap an arm around the captain like he usually would, and no friendly greetings with some muttered Russian pet name tacked on at the end. He makes a point of standing an arm's length in front of the captain, easy to step back out of reach if he needs to do so quickly.

"John?"

John stares right through him, eyes blank and scarily lifeless as looks at Nikolai. Simon nods off the sergeants and watches them park their arses in the heli, not without sending their captain varying looks of worry. Nikolai offers him a thankful look over John's shoulder and Simon offers him a nod but stays put.

It's John, he knows John and he trusts John with his life but the same man he trusts with his life is currently drenched in blood and seemingly unaware of where he is. He isn't leaving Nikolai to handle him alone even if he knows the Russian is as strong as he is.

"Captain, do you want Kate to call MacMillan?"

Simon narrows his eyes at the pilot, watching him curiously. He knows who John's old captain is, he's met the man before. Wicked funny and sharp as a knife.

The name seems to trigger something in John, he tilts his head looking at Nik with far more clarity than he'd had a moment ago.

"Wha- No, 'm fine."

Even John sounds unsure but there's a familiarity on his face as he looks at Nikolai that hadn't been present before. Nikolai looks relieved, his shoulders falling as some of the tension leaves him.

"You should call him later."

It isn't a suggestion, it's an instruction. One John doesn't seem to argue with as he glances down at himself, taking in his current state.

Nikolai glances at him over John's shoulder and Simon takes the hint to drag his arse back to the heli. They need a second, one he isn't supposed to be present for. He doesn't judge as he silently slips away, ignoring how John all but falls against the Russian's front.

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝒂 𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒇𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒓’𝒔 𝒄𝒂𝒃𝒊𝒏

hello, I want to thank @foxyprincessworld for inspiring me to write this.

connected to fairytale

summary - it has been a while since meeting ari in the woods, and while he goes out to gather food for you two, you manage to get yourself stuck.

warning - smut, inter-species, tiny fairy, stuck, slight fingering, creampie.

18+ only please, the gif and headers I use aren't mine.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

Ari had gone out to gather some berries and vegetables from your little garden outside the cabin, ensuring you’d be stocked up for the rapidly approaching winter. While he was out picking, you were fluttering around the house, ensuring things were clean and neat. Since you met Ari that fateful night, becoming his partner, the cabin also became your home. 

You had been cleaning all day in your human form, making sure you could cut the cleaning time in half with your size before finding a spot that no large thing could reach. You wave your hand, allowing your magic to dance over you and shrink you into your fairy form. You fly over to the area, noticing through the small hole that it has become dirty. You knew Ari didn’t care about these things, but you did. So, you began to clean, softly groaning as you kept missing a few spots, pulling yourself further into the tiny hole, your hips catching onto the sides. You wiggle, huffing when you realise that you are stuck. “Oh no… I do hope Ari gets back soon.” You let out a cute little sneeze as the dust tickles your nose. 

Ari grins at the basket in his hands, loving that it’s filled to the brim and that he can show you what he’s managed to gather. He heads into the cabin, setting down the basket on the table and then looks around confused, wondering where you are as you usually came to greet him. “Fairy? Bear here!” He grunts, scrunching his nose. “Little Fairy?!” Ari begins to walk deeper into the house, becoming worried that something may have happened to you.

“I’m here, Bear. I’m okay. I’m just stuck...” You sigh and allow magic to flow through you, appearing before your man.

Ari stares at the bright ball, following it as it slowly leads him to where you are stuck. The ball disappears when Ari stops where you are, and his eyes widen. “Oh, Fairy! How?” He can’t deny that his cock twitches when his eyes land on your exposed arse, your dress lifted from wiggling. “Stuck?” You still weren’t able to teach him how to speak proper sentences, but you found it endearing with his short answers. Knowing he tries so hard, his face always scrunches up, trying to find the right things to say, and the thing you love most about him is even though it becomes hard for him sometimes, he never gives up. 

“Yeah, Bear. I’m stuck, and my magic cannot get me out of this one.” You pout, not noticing that the more you wiggle, the more that becomes exposed, causing the giant bear behind you to become aroused. “Could you please help me?” 

Ari nods, too preoccupied with how your arse jiggles and your sweet honey pot glistens. He licks his lips at the thought of honey and how delicious you taste. “Help after,” Ari growls out, quickly ridding himself free from his pants and gripping his thick, monstrous cock. He begins to stroke it, grunting as pre-cum leaks from his angry tip.

“What? Ari, what do you mean after? Bear?” He ignores you, too lost in his mind now. You softly squeak as his finger connects with your dripping cunt. You now understand what is happening and allow your magic to wash over you. “You can enter, Bear.” You whimper when he pushes his thick finger inside, stretching you and curling it, ensuring you are wet enough to take him.

“Okay?”

“Okay.” Your head falls forward as he pulls his finger out and replaces it with his member. His tip stretches you wide as Ari pushes in. “Oh, god…” He rests his hands against the wood, fucking into you harder and faster, enjoying how your tight walls squeeze him. 

“Not god.” Ari growls, fucking into you harder. “I Bear!” Your tiny body rocks back and forth, and your eyes roll back as the pleasure intensifies. Your walls pulsate like crazy around Ari, causing a groan to slip out. “My Fairy!” Your arousal builds, leaking alongside his thick base, coating him and creating a white creamy ring. “So pretty and tiny.” He hums, staring down at your stretched-out cunt with a dazed look, entranced by how hot it looks. 

Your fingers curl, nails digging into your palm. “B–bear! I’m going to–” You cut yourself off with a strangled moan. Your vision becomes white as your walls squeeze around him, and your juices squirt out of you. You fall limp, exhaustion hitting you. Ari continues to thrust into you, throwing his head back as his balls tighten, cock twitching. He releases thick amounts of cum into you, coating your walls. 

Once Ari empties himself, his cock softens, and he slowly pulls out of you. “Bear, help now.” He grumbles, wiping off the sweat on his forehead before punching the wood, snapping it enough to rip it away and pull you out of the tiny hole. He lies you on the palm of his hand, looking down at you with a soft look, “Fairy, okay?” 

You snuggle into his palm, looking up at him with a sleepy smile. “I’m okay, Bear. Thank you.” You give him a soft tap and sigh as he moves you to the chair. Your hand waves, and you feel your body slowly grow, allowing you to become human-sized. You stretch, kissing Ari’s palm as he rests it on your cheek. “How did your picking go, Bear?” 

The smile on his face makes you think he’d be able to brighten up a room with how bright and gorgeous it is. Ari quickly moves over to the basket and brings it back to you, showing you the many things he picked. You smile, eyes dancing around the many different colours. “You did wonderful, Bear! I could maybe make some soup for dinner and a pie for dessert.” You slowly stand, legs feeling like jelly. 

Ari places the basket back down and pulls you into him by the hips. He looks down at you with such love and adoration, like he cannot believe he has you in his life. “Bear love Fairy… S–so much.” He wraps an arm around your waist while his hand cups your cheek, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss on your lips. “Pretty Fairy.”

You smile, eyes becoming clouded with love. “I love you too, Bear, so much. My big handsome bear.” Your hand rests flat on his chest, and the other cups his cheek, stroking the soft beard underneath before moving up to scratch between his cute bear ears. “Why don’t you get some rest? You’ve been working so hard lately.” Your lashes flutter as you continue to stare up at him. “I’ll prepare dinner, okay?” 

Ari shakes his head, huffing. He peppers kisses against your face, smiling at how beautiful you look. “I help.” 

That night you and Ari make dinner, and as that is cooking, he helps you prepare dessert. You couldn’t have wished for anything better. He’d wrap you in his arms as you made the food before pulling you over to the couch, holding you against him while you both waited for dinner. Your hand rested against your stomach, knowing that when you finally told the news to Ari, he would be so happy. You’d finally have everything you had ever wished for. 

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[d0youc0py]

Hi! I just wanted to see if I could put in a request maybe? I love your writing and it would make my day if you wrote something about the 141 + Konig having an arguement with the reader and they yell or make a sudden move causing her to like flinch away.

If not that's totally okay too, have a lovely day!

“I’m so tired of arguing with you John.” Your words came out whimper-like and you hated how weak it made you sound. Yet fighting with John was exhausting. Sometimes when the two of you argued it felt like it was just another form of training for him.

He instantly softened. Not that you had the wits to notice. A fat tear rolled down your cheek and John’s hand instinctively raced forward to wipe it away. But from your point of view it looked like he was coming in for a slap. Your head flew back, colliding with the kitchen cabinet. You hissed, your hands coming up to apply pressure to the sting.

“Shite, Sweetheart.” He growled. His hands found your hips, pulling you towards him. “I would never.” He reminded. His hand found its way to yours and held you gently.

“I’m sorry.” You muttered, cheeks flushed. You knew John would never lay a hand on you and you hoped he didn’t take your reaction too personal.

“Don’t apologize, Honey.” He muttered back, his lips pressed against the crown of your head.

His body stilled. In the midst of an argument- one that he can’t even remember why it started- he reached up to rub his face, the action causing you to flinch. He doesn’t even think it counts as a flinch, because you were basically bracing for impact.

“That what you think of me?” He started. Your heart dropped in your stomach at his words, thinking he was angry, but the look on his face was the opposite. His eyes were nervous. It seemed like he was waiting for you to tell him what you truly thought of him. You quickly shook your head.

“No, Si.” You assured quickly. “I just wasn’t expecting it and you moved so fast.” You tried to explain.

“I know I can be an arse sometimes but I would never hit you. Please tell me you know that.” His eyes bore into yours and you nodded your head.

“I do, Si.” You agreed. His hand reached forward slowly and you took the invitation wrapping your arms around his middle.

“Sorry for being an arse by the way.”

*maybe toxic behavior?*

Most of the time Johnny was an extrovert by choice. He could be the life of the party, charming and personable when he wanted to be, but he also needed his time to recharge. He’d just gotten back from a mission and wanted nothing more than to curl up with you and watch some TV show that took no brain power to understand. Instead he came home to you dressed up to the nines, heading out the door.

“Where are you off to?” He questioned, plopping his duffle bag by the door. You raced forward pressing quick kisses against his face.

“Just a little get together. Want to come?” You hummed against him.

“Didn’t I tell you I was coming back today?” He asked. You hummed in agreement, stopping your attack of affection when none of it was reciprocated.

“Yeah, you did. Why?” You questioned.

“I’ve been gone for three weeks and you’re just heading out the door.” He responded, his words nearly coming out like a snarl. This began the argument and before you knew it the two of you were screaming at each other in the entryway.

Johnny talked with his hands and that became dangerous when he was upset. His hand flung up, his fingers barely missing your cheek. All was silent. Your eyes fled with tears wondering how the man you loved could be so careless. His bright eyes were wide and were taking in every move or emotion you felt.

“I wasn’t going to”- He began.

“Sure seemed like you were going to.” You said back. He shook his head almost violently.

“Never.” He growled. “I would never hurt you.”

“Physically.” You emphasized. He shut his eyes tightly- all the hurtful things he said during the argument coming back to him.

He had a lot of making up to do.

*it’s so hard writing angst for Kyle b/c I feel like he is just the sweetest partner everrrrr*

He came home in a mood. The weight of the world on his shoulders. He brushed past you, giving you a quick peck on the forehead before retreating to the patio for a quick smoke. He rarely smoked and the sight had you worried, but you gave him peace.

You were finishing up your laundry, not noticing as he came home behind you. When his hands touched you, you jumped nearly a foot in the air, your head colliding with the dryer.

“Fucking hell, baby.” He huffed from behind you. “Didn’t mean to scare you.” He apologized, holding your head right where you hit it.

“I didn’t even hear you.” You gasped.

“Well I’ve had training.” He smirked. “Let’s get you an ice pack, yeah? Don’t want you walking around town with a bump on your head.”

He was venting to you, to engrossed in his own feelings that he didn’t notice the drastic change in his demeanor. You weren’t use to the side of him- and he had made sure to keep it hidden from you. The last thing he ever wanted was to frighten you. It wasn’t until his arm flung out (not towards you) and you jumped that he’d noticed what was happening.

“Scheisse.” He muttered to himself.

“I’m sorry.” You apologized quickly. “I don’t know why I did that.” You rambled. His worried eyes watched you.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.” He apologized. His hands reached out to grab yours and you pushed yourself closer to him.

“You didn’t really scare me, Konnie.” You opened and closed your mouth before continuing. “I’ve just never seen you so worked up before. You just surprised me is all.” He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, bending down so his head could rest on yours.

“Still. There are ways for me to vent without getting all worked up, ja?”

[carlottawllms]

Fake It Till You Make It

Mason Mount x Reader Fluff Autor’s note: So many of you wanted the fake dating trope, so here you go. I know this probably feels a little rushed and I apologise cause I know it’s not my best work, but I’m struggling a lot atm, so I'm just really proud of even finishing it. I have so many ideas but so little motivation to actually sit down and write…so, I’m sorry!

As always, feedback is very much appreciated. Enjoy! 🩷

As you looked at Ava, your best friend since nursery and her soon-to-be husband Benny, you still couldn’t believe they were actually going to get married.

She’d met him a couple of years ago during a night out. It had been planned as a girls night, but Benny had entered the picture with one of the most awful pick-up-lines you’d ever heard, but Ava had just laughed and ended up giving him a chance to speak to her for a little while.

You hadn’t understood back then and you were till certain, you would’ve kicked his arse for that lame chat-up, but maybe that was why you were still single, whilst your best friend would say yes in a white dress soon…

It hadn’t been a huge surprise Ava had picked you as her maid of honour, but you’d been in tears anyway and when she’d told you that Mason, one of Benny’s best friends would be your partner in crime as the best man, you’d been more than relieved.

You’d met Mason around a year into Ava’s and Benny’s relationship on the latter’s birthday party. After third wheeling them for a while, you and Benny had become close friends too so naturally, he’d invited you to his birthday as well.

Mason and you had hit it off well pretty quickly. He was an easy-going and open-minded person and although he could be a bit shy sometimes, he was a joy to spend time with. Which was also what made the whole planning for the wedding a lot easier than if he was someone you didn’t get along with at all.

The four of you had been sitting together for a few hours now already, discussing all the things that still needed to be tackled and whilst it obviously was some sort of a serious situation, you and Mason couldn’t hold back from making inside jokes and giggling at each other’s comments.

When Ava pulled you into the kitchen, claiming she had some snacks to grab for you all, you were pretty sure she’d give you a talking to for not taking everything serious enough.

To your biggest surprise though, she grinned when she turned around. “Soooo…you and Mason, huh?”

“We’re friends Ava, you know that.” You rolled your eyes at her. This wasn’t the first time she’d made a comment like this, but after you’d slightly lost your shit last time, you’d thought that she would just let it go…Clearly she wasn’t planning on doing so though. “I’ve told you before and nothing’s changed ever since. Why can’t you just let it go?”

“Because you’d be great together.”, she stated. “He’s a good one, you know that. And you can’t deny that he’s your type, can you?”

“Ava, I don’t need a man. I’m pretty focused on everything that’s going on in my life anyway and now your wedding too, obviously. I don’t have time for a relationship.”

“Oh y/n honey, a relationship doesn’t require time. You’re spending an awful amount of time with him anyway, there’s not much that would change, you know that. So why are you so dead set on refusing to be happy with him?”

You sighed deeply and ran a hand down your face. This wasn’t a conversation you ever wanted to happen and especially not when Mason was sitting just one room away. You hated showing a vulnerable side like this…even in front of your best friend. Opening up wasn’t like you…keeping your cards to yourself and sorting everything with yourself was what you preferred.

But you knew Ava wouldn’t let this one go anytime soon.

“Look…I’m not saying he’s not my type and yes, we obviously get along well, but there’s women falling to his feet left and right and most of them are gorgeous models in expensive clothes, with skinny legs and a flat tummy. You’ve seen the articles and everything too, so stop pushing me.”

“Hun, they’re just rumours nothing more. He’s a famous footballer, of course the press is all over him and using his name for some clicks.”, Ava smiled sympathetically. “Don’t you think he would’ve made a move already if he was interested in one of them? Look, he’s young, he’s handsome and obviously he’s having some fun, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t settle for the right woman. Maybe it’s you, you know? But you won’t find out until you give it a shot.”

Having some fun…the thought alone of him shagging any of those women made you feel like you wanted to throw up. They were probably super sexy in their lingerie, stretching on the bed like those underwear models did, whilst you wouldn’t look half as good even if you tried…

You shook yourself out of your thoughts. “Can we not discuss this anymore please, Ava?”   

Your best friend sighed in defeat, but still nodded; understanding you felt a bit uncomfortable and with the snacks she’d wanted to grab in hand, she ushered you back into the living room.

You knew the topic was far from over and that she wouldn’t just let it go like you asked. You just hoped she’d tone it down a touch.

However, your hopes should be crushed not less than a couple of days later when you and Mason were sitting together to sort some wedding stuff.

He’d freshly cut his hair into this quiff and you had a hard time taking your eyes off him. He looked handsome…more so than he normally did anyway and on top of that he was chewing on a gum you’d stupidly offered him a while ago. He looked hot as hell, and he wasn’t even trying.

In an attempt to gather your senses, you vanished into the kitchen to place the order for yours and Mason’s dinner. You already regretted having invited him to stay, but then again you hadn’t expected him to show up without this mohawk that had made him look slightly less attractive to you.

Even from the kitchen you noticed your phone alerting you of several new messages and when it didn’t stop, you called for Mason to check it.

“y/n?”, you heard him ask before a few seconds late he showed up in the kitchen, looking utterly confused. “Why’s Ava sending you photos of me, asking if you think I look hot?”

Your heart dropped to your tummy in embarrassment. You could feel how your cheeks turned into flaming red patches of skin within seconds as you snatched your phone out of his hands, but damage was obviously done.

“I’ll kill her.”

Mason saw just how serious you were, but he couldn’t help and find the situation slightly hilarious. If this was what he thought it was, you seemed to be in a slightly similar situation as he found himself in.

“You can admit that you think I’m hot, you know?”, he laughed. Stepping closer, he poked your sides and made you squirm, but when you tried to shuffle away from him, he was quick in pulling you into a hug. “So, do you think so?”

“She’s trying to play matchmaker.”, you sighed, still incredibly embarrassed he’d seen the messages. “She’s been sending me photos for days now. I think she’s tired of my single ass and it seems like you’re her latest victim in this game.”

“I think she’s doing a good job.” His chest rumbled right beneath your skin as he chuckled. “She’s pointing out all my best features from what I’ve seen. My eyes, my bum, my no-”

“Mase.”, you groaned. You knew he was trying to get you to laugh at it too, but you were too humiliated to do so. “Can we not talk about this please?”

“Okay, okay.”, he agreed. Pulling away from him, you could still detect that cheeky grin on his lips though, telling you everything about how he wasn’t done with the topic yet and you were already dreading his next comment. “But you know what they say about noses and the refere-”

“Mason!”

Laughing to himself he made sure to leave the kitchen as quickly as possible, trying to avoid you hitting him in jest, but he couldn’t help himself. You were too adorable when you were embarrassed.  

Giving you a bit of a break, Mason made sure to direct both of your attention back to what you were supposed to be doing: Finding a wedding gift for Ava and Benny. Of all the things the pair of you had to do, this one seemed to be the hardest and even after a while, you’d still not decided on what you wanted.

At some point, you simply gave up and sunk back into the cushions, chatting away whilst waiting for the food to arrive and thankfully it didn’t take too long.

“Fancy watching a bit of baby reindeer?”

“I’m not sure why you’re asking, when you’ve already put it on.”, you laughed when he’d selected the series before you’d even had the chance to say yes or no.  

“Oh, c’mon, you.”, he laughed. “As if you’d ever say no to watching it with me, you muppet.”

Laughing along, you moved over a little and pulled your blanket over your tucked knees. Usually, neither of you were shy of a little cuddle, but for some reason the whole thing with Ava’s messages was still playing in the back of your mind. You had no idea what he actually thought of them, if they’d made him uncomfortable cause he’d simply laughed it off, but it bothered you more than you were willing to admit.

“Why’re you so far away?”, he pouted not soon after though. Obviously unhappy with your choice of staying on your side of the sofa. “Move that cute little bum over here, you meanie.”

You wanted to refuse, you really wanted to, but the way he held his arm out for you with that adorable pout on his lips had you scrambling over in mere seconds, and you relaxed into his side.

For a while, both of you were engrossed in the episode, slightly creeped out by it all, but neither of you could deny how catching it actually was. You didn’t think you’d watch it by yourself, but with Mason holding you like this provided you with enough safety, to still feel comfortable.

“Why don’t we just pretend then?”, he suddenly asked, causing you to look at him confused. “Dating I mean.”, he explained, sitting up a little. “We could pretend we’re seeing each other.”

“What? Mase, why the hell would we do that?”

“To have out peace and quiet, obviously you wally.”, he laughed, but you still looked at him as if he’d grown a second head.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”, you eventually managed to get out. It was a bad idea, you knew that already. Well, the overall idea wasn’t too bad, but the fact that you knew already, that it would be you ending with a broken heart made it the absolute worst idea anyone had ever had.

When Ava had asked if he was your type, you hadn’t given her an answer, but truth be told, he absolutely was and you liked him more than you should. Mason had everything a man needed to have for you to be falling for him.

And that combined with fake dating made a terrible, terrible combination.

“Why not?”, he pouted, his big brown eyes gazing into yours as if you didn't already have problems keeping your cool when he was around.  “Just think about it for a second. It would get Ava out of your hair and benny would stop trying to set me up with girls I don’t like. It’s a win win.”  

“Doesn’t look like you don’t like them.” You’d not meant to say it out loud, but when you caught his questioning look you realised you accidentally had. “The photos…I’ve seen them and…it didn’t look like you didn’t like her.”

“What pho-…oh.” It took Mason a second to understand where you were coming from, but when he did, the slight embarrassment of being caught overcame him. “You mean Tara.”

You watched him scratching the back of his head as he blushed and the way he got so flustered was all you needed to see to have your doubts confirmed. Fake dating was a really shit idea – especially when he was emotionally involved with someone else.

“I’ve seen her a couple of times, yes, but it’s not thanks to Benny.”

“That would make fake dating even weirder, don’t you think?”

“Well, first of all, Tara and I aren’t exclusive of anything official. She knows it wasn’t more than a casual thing for a couple of times to see if anything could potentially come out of it.”, he explained awkwardly and from the way you kept fiddling with your fingers in your lap and avoided his gaze he could tell that you felt the same. “And secondly, nothing would change for us. Like…we hang out all the time anyway, just like you come to my games already. It basically won’t look different to anyone other than Ava and Benny. We’ll just tell them that we’re dating to see where it could go, you know? I won’t post on Instagram or whatever, you’ll still be my best friend.”

You couldn’t lie and say it didn’t sound tempting. Would you have to go through the whole I-told-you-so-conversation with Ava? Yes. But would she stop pestering you afterwards? Also yes.

“I don’t know, Mase.”, you whispered, feeling his gaze on you as you chew on your bottom lip, trying to find a reason to tell him no without revealing your feelings. “Wouldn’t it feel weird?”

Mason held your gaze when he grabbed your hand and pushed his fingers in between yours. “Does it feel weird?” You didn’t answer his question, but he felt you tightening your grip on his hand a little. “It won’t be for long, y/n. Just until after their big day so they can enjoy the time up to their wedding and the day itself too. Imagine Ava spending half her wedding day wondering if you have someone to dance with.”

A breathy laugh flew past your lips cause you knew he was right. Ava would most definitely check in on you more often that she should instead of enjoying her time with all the guests and whilst you still weren’t convinced at all of his crazy idea, you couldn’t help but feel something at the thought of having him by your side for the whole wedding.

“You know I’m right, y/n.”, Mason said gently, trying not to push you too far. “I won’t force you, it’s up to you. Just think about it, okay?”

“Promise it won’t change anything between us?”

His heart squeezed at the way you looked and sounded so worried. He knew you appreciated him and valued his friendship more than you’d ever said, just like he did the other way around and he hated to see you like this.

“I promise, y/n.”, he smiled. “We’ll go back to being friends and it’s going to be like nothing ever happened. Not that anything will happen, but you know what I mean.”

You sighed deeply, before nodding slowly. It was a stupid idea. A very stupid one.

“Pinky promise?”

Mason laughed softly, but held his pinky out nonetheless. “Pinky promise.”

-

But Mason was only partially right.

At first glance, the only thing that really changed was when you were with Benny and Ava. You held hands, cuddled when it felt like it was the right thing to do and Mason kissed your temple or cheek ever so often. He was touchy with you; always had his hands on you in one way or another and made sure to call you all sorts of cute pet names.

For you, however, everything changed.

In the beginning, it was mostly only the two of you meeting to discuss things, but the closer you got to the wedding, the more often the four of you came together. The moments when Mason pretended to be your boyfriend increased - as did the palpitations he triggered in you. You’d liked him before, but the longer the two of you carried on, the more certain you were that you didn’t just like him.

It scared the shit out of you. Just like the inevitable heartbreak that was closing in on you. And the more time you spent together, the worse it got and at a certain point you felt like it was suffocating you.

Luckily for you, you were usually able to hide your feelings well. Or so you thought.

“Earth to y/n?” When Mason gently placed his hand on your thigh, you were startled out of your thoughts. “This is like the third time you zoned out, is everything okay?”

“Oh erm…yes, I’m good, sorry. It’s just a lot.” Your cheeks were burning, embarrassment creeping up your veins.

You and him were sat up on your sofa, trying to finalise your speeches for the wedding reception, but your thoughts kept wandering. The last three meetings had been with Ava and Benny and not having Mason holding your hand or pulling you into his side now felt weird and as if something big was missing.

He could only assume how much pressure the added stress of the upcoming wedding had put on your shoulders. Ava was your best friend and you, as a perfectionist, had a hard time organising everything in a way that would ensure their day would be as perfect as possible. Mason had realised this early on and had tried to take some of the pressure off you by praising you for your good ideas, but he could only do so much.

“y/n.”, he sighed, pulling the blanket away a little so he could hold his arm out. “C’mere.”

You dropped your sheets of paper and pen on the small coffee table, before shuffling over and cuddling into his side. The warmth and comfort surrounding you the moment Mason wrapped his arms around your frame relieved the tension in your shoulders almost immediately and you couldn’t help but bury your face in the crook of his neck to suppress the urge to cry.

You were aware that it was a combination of several factors and not just your growing feelings for the handsome man who would never be yours, but the latter was what hurt you the most.

“It’s going to be okay, you know?”, Mason hummed softly. He cupped the back of your head with one hand, fingers applying gentle pressure on your scull and down your neck, whilst his other arm stayed wrapped tightly around your waist; effectively caging you against his body. “You’re doing a great job, the wedding is going to be amazing, and Ava and Benny will have the best day, thanks to all you’ve done.”

Mason pressed his lips to the top of your head, softly inhaling your familiar scent. He was beyond nervous too, but the way you clung to him like a koala just told him everything he needed to know about your state.

He kept you in his hold for a little longer, gently humming and trying to calm you down as he could feel your hot tears on his neck, but after a while, you peeled away from him and wiped your eyes with the sleeves of your hoodie.

“Better?” Mason carefully reached out and caught a final last tear rolling down your cheek, before cupping your jaw and kissing your forehead. “Would you like to hear my speech now? I’m sure it will make you laugh again.”

You had no doubt that it would. He was one of the funniest people you’d ever met; a quick wit who always had a funny comment up his sleeve. If you needed someone to cheer you up, it would always be Mason you’d choose.

“Go on then, Mr. Mount.”, you nodded, the smile back on your lips, and you sat back and relaxed into the cushions, watching him take a deep breath.

“So, for those of you who don’t know me, I’m Mason, one of Benny’s best friends and the lucky guy he asked to be his best man. I’ve known Benny for basically my whole life now and can honestly say that he’s not only handsome, funny and brilliant, but also very caring and cha-…Benny, I can’t read your writing, what’s this word supposed to say?”

You shot him an incredulous look before laughing out loud; not believing he’d actually decided to stick with the idea he’d shown you on TikTok a couple of weeks ago.

Mason and you had been trying to write your respective speeches for weeks now, but especially he had struggled a lot with it. He just hadn’t felt quite confident about the whole thing, so he’d had a little snoop on TikTok and Instagram and in one of those videos the best man had attempted the same joke Mason had put into his speech now too.

“Think it’s too much?”

“No, it’s hilarious, Mase.”, you laughed. “They will love it, no doubt. Please go on.”

And go on he did. He delivered one of the best speeches you’d ever witnessed and whilst the beginning was more on the funny side, the rest was filled with honest and raw emotions that had you on the brink of tears again as you sat there in awe, watching him meaning every single word of it.

“Benny, I’m still confused how you managed to win Ava over with that god-awful pick-up line in that club back then, but I’m really glad you did. In Ava you found the love you deserve and Ava, I can assure you that in Benny you have someone who will always have your back. I know that you will both make each other very happy. What the two of you have is so rare and perfect, it’s something I can only wish for myself to find at some point in my life. You are endgame and I couldn’t be happier for you. So, everyone, please raise your glasses to the bride and groom, congratulations!”

Nervously, Mason lowered the sheet of paper into his lap. He’d been so focused on not messing up that he hadn't had the chance to observe your reactions at all and although he was rather proud of what he’d managed to put together, your opinion was very important to him and would probably have a big impact on the outcome too. But when he looked at you staring at him with your lips slightly parted and tears rolling down your cheeks, his heart skipped a beat.

“The woman who’ll get to marry you one day will be so lucky.”, you whispered, unable to form proper sentences as you were too overcome with emotions. His speech was so touching and loving and the way he’d included your best friend and what he’d said about her…he was just the perfect man, and you hated the position you’d got yourself into.

Mason just chuckled at your words and dropped his head as he could feel his cheeks heating up, but eventually he shuffled over and pulled you into a hug; his face finding a home in the crook of your neck.

“Seriously Mase, that’s such a beautiful speech.” You gently wrapped your arms around his broad frame, one hand coming up to the back of his head to scratch his skull and when it caused him to hum in content, you squeezed him a little tighter. “There’s nothing you should change about it.”

“Thank you, love.”

-

The time leading up to the wedding day flew by like nothing ever had. Mason and you had spent another countless of hours finalising everything and making sure everything was up to perfection and whilst you were truly proud of everything the two of you had managed to contribute to this special day, you couldn’t hold back the slight relief that overcame you the moment you and Mason sat down at your designated places in the venue.

“Stop being so nervous.”, he laughed quietly. “You’re a snotty mess already. Do I even want to know what kind of a nervous wreck you’ll be on your own wedding day?”

You had no idea how he could be so composed and calm on a day like today, but you were glad he was as he managed to calm your nerves a little too.

Mason leaned forward and cupped your chin as he carefully dabbed at the tears spilling over. “C’mon, stop those tears now, love. There’s no need for them.”

The way he was suddenly so close had your heart in your throat. His big brown eyes stared into your own and you were sure the whole world had stopped for a moment, making it just you two an no one else, but the start of the music quickly brough you back into the here and now.

The two of you joined all the other guests in getting up from your seats for the bride’s entrance and just when you thought you’d collected yourself, you felt Mason’s hand wrapping around yours and giving it a tight squeeze.

“No more tears, love.”, he whispered before he pressed a soft kiss to your temple.

You were absolutely fucked.

A few hours later, you and Mason could finally relax properly. Just like you’d expected, he’d killed his speech and made everyone laugh and cry and even though you didn’t think of yourself as the greatest speaker, you were still happy of how you’d delivered yours.

You’d just watched Ava and Benny perfectly showing off their skills with their wedding dance, when Mason turned to face you.

“Would you do me the honour and dance with me, Ms y/l/n?” Just like the gentleman he was, he held his hand out for you to accept with a soft smile dancing on his lips.

“It would be my pleasure, Mr Mount.”

You placed your hand in his warm one and let him lead you onto the dance floor. He pulled you closer to his body, before placing his hands on your waist and naturally, yours moved around his neck.

He was closer than he’d ever been to you today, his perfume clouding your senses a little and when his eyes met yours, your knees went weak.

Mason had always been handsome – maybe the most handsome man you’d ever laid your eyes on – but today was something entirely else. The suit was perfectly fitted and made him look ten times more attractive than he already was and the quiff he’d touched up just before the wedding made his face seem even softer.

His big brown eyes and the freckles scattering all over his skin stood out the most to you, but the way he curled his lips into that sweet smile was what had you blushing like mad.

Your heart was thundering in your chest from the proximity, but also because all of sudden it hit you, that this was probably the last time you’d be this close. You’d agreed on ending the fake dating right after the wedding as Ava and Benny would leave for their three weeks honeymoon anyway and the realisation suddenly weighed heavy on your chest.

The moment you could feel the tears burning behind your eyes, you dropped your head to his chest and as if he knew, Mason pulled you even closer. You could feel him running his hand up and down your spine; your open-back-dress making you feel his hot touch right on your skin and just like that, a first tear fell.

This was it. This was the moment you’d been dreading. The moment the inevitable heartbreak grabbed you with its cold claws, pulling you away from the best man anyone could ever ask for.

“I think I’m falling in love with you.”, Mason whispered.

It was as if the world had suddenly stopped turning. Maybe not the whole world, but yours certainly had. You pulled away slowly, wanting to take a step back as there was no way he’d meant it, but Mason’s hands kept their firm grip on your waist.

“What?”

“I do.”, Mason breathed, making it sound as if he’d realised it just now. “I’m falling in love with you.”

He brought one hand up and cupped your jaw, gently wiping at the few tears spilling over your waterline. His big brown eyes were focused on yours, practically staring into your soul and pouring ever ounce of honesty right into you, making sure there wasn’t a single cell in your body thinking he was lying.

“I…I don’t…why?”

The small chuckle falling from his lips was adorable and had your heart skipping a beat, but you still couldn’t wrap your head around what was happening.

Here you were, still slowly swaying to the music that had faded into some sort of background noise. Mason’s fingers pushing into the small of your back, whilst the other hand was still holding your jaw, keeping your face tilted upright and your gaze on his.

“Because…”, he smiled. “Because you’re you. I just…I feel safe with you, like nothing bad can happen. You’re this ray of sunshine, that I’ve always needed in my life. You make me smile when all I want to do is break down and even when I don’t want anyone around, you’re the exception. You are this ridiculously beautiful person with a heart of gold, and you let me be myself around you without ever judging me for it. You make me feel as if being with me is easy when it is everything but.”

Mason carefully pushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers just about touching your skin making you shiver.

“I know we started this as some sort of ploy to get Ava and Benny out of our hair, but to be honest…I’ve always known it was you. Right from the moment I met you. I can’t get you out of my head, y/n and I know it sounds whipped and pathetic, but-”

“It doesn’t.”, you whispered as you brought your hand up to his neck, fingers gently brushing through the soft strands of his hair. “I- I don’t even know what to say. It’s…you-”

Your voice cracked when Mason nudged his nose against yours, a small smile pulling at the corner of his lips.

“I’m falling in love with you, too.”

And with that, you leaned in and closed the final distance to meet his lips in a hesitant, careful first kiss.

[skitchune]

#01 G8 Draw-in-your-style Challenge!

I believe that this is an old challenge, but I decided that there’s no better way to dust off the old gear than seeing the boys in my style. Really liked playing around the filters. I liked given them this old, Sunday Morning Comics style. The grain is just beautiful.

I guess…I should give a little explanation?

Basically, in how I write Hetalia, there was ONE major event that changed the course of their timeline during WW2. Though the world mythos in itself is very different, suffice to say that it was that ONE event that changed the course of their world moving forward. Currently, the Nation Folks assemble as their own private entity to develop livelihood and development projects for underserved communities across the globe, instead of other global matters. Still, many retain a degree of political connection, Nation Folks, in general, all agree that they will always put first the good of humanity over the gain of any singular country. That being said…

🍝 Feliciano Vargas - more actively sexual and flirtatious, pretty much a ladies man, has a problem keeping his dick out of places it shouldn’t be but he’s a lovable tramp regardless and knows that he can get away with a lot. He has a good heart and a good head, but maybe a little bit of too much casual machismo that makes his comeuppance so fun to watch.

📋Ludwig Beilschmidt - still pretty much stiff and serious, efficient but also too much of a stickler, is the youngest of the bunch and always has something to prove, Gilbert helps him here and there but he doesn’t want Gil to meddle, it may frustrate him that everyone treats him like a kid, but he also knows that it sometimes works in his favor being the ‘spoiled’ baby brother to many.

🐉 Seiryuu Honda - to keep things short, Seiryuu is and always has been this universe’s Nation Folk for Japan but Kiku does/did exist for some time for [story reasons] Sei is calm, level-headed but can come off as rather aloof and dazed, he can act a little too familiar with new people and is quite affectionate to friends. He’s a bit of a Casanova and likes the game of courtship like a round of Shogi. In many ways he might not be stereotypical, but in many ways he comes off as traditional and anachronistic.

🤠Alfred Jones - Heroism runs deep in this hot-blooded cowpoke, not the flashy guns or the prestige, but the hard work of running down the pavement for change. He’s charming, mature, headstrong, and value honest and just work. He’s the singular cause of the ONE event, becoming a catalyst to multiple OTHER notable events during WW2. Unfortunately, this has caused him excommunicated from the US government, which suits him fine as he can more actively participate in projects.

🎸Arthur Kirkland - No one fucks around with the ruling class more than Art, who has historically been a thorn in many administrations throughout the colorful history of his homeland. He is a rebel with a cause down to his core, sticking it up anyone’s arse if it means fighting for what’s right. Boston Tea Party? He was also pissing on the cartons before throwing them overboard? The IRA? Girl, he was a damn recruiter. Has he been beaten, threatened, and killed because of his insolence? Sure, but no one is gonna look good as him doing it.

⛱️Francis Bonnefoy - (P.S. I meant to draw him removing his shirt because someone accidentally spilled wine on him) Residing far away from the bustle of Paris, Franc lives the coastal orchard life along the south of France. He’s a country boy at heart who likes living the simple life. He is very introspective, usually keeps to himself, but isn’t really afraid to voice out his measured opinions. Some might say he is a tad but wistful, but many friends know he’s just daydreaming of being back in his orchard surrounded by good company and a glass of the finest wine.

💅Ivan Braginsky - No one can take this MATERIAL GWORL. Daddy Russia is a Mama Bear who claps back at heartless Capitalism and works tirelessly as the acting Chairman of the Union to increase wages and living conditions across the social classes. He is tongue-in-cheek, no nonsense, and fabulous, but above all, a big and caring figure who thinks much for others more than himself sometimes and is just grateful to come home and be wrapped around by a certain Lithuanian’s strong arms—Big Mama deserves some honey after a long day’s work.

🍜Yao Wang - Wang is a funny characters to me. He can come across as uncouth and overfamiliar, but he just doesn’t take life as seriously as the others. It’s been a long ride and there’s too much more ground to cover than he wishes to put the effort into. He likes to complain about the silliest things, but damn, if he isn’t telling the truth every time he opens his mouth.

Alternate gradient map styles under the cut

[aethon-recs]

Themed Rec List | 16 Sex Work Tomarrymort Recs 🍑💸

After coming across a couple of sexy amazing stripper/camboy/sex worker Tomarry fics recently, I went looking for more fics along this theme 🤍 See below for a list of recs for all the other horny sickos out there who really enjoy reading about Tom or Harry leveraging their physical assets for pleasure or money or sometimes even reconnaissance, 8 of each:

*

Sex Worker Tom

A Slice of Heaven by jellybeantarot (M, 3k, complete)

Tom is a sex worker under an agency that masks as a pizzeria, Harry orders a large sausage pizza, and yep, that's a dick in a pizza box.

After Class by osculatrix (E, 5k, complete)

Professor Potter discovers that her star student is a camstar, and what does she do? Jack off and give him money, that's what.

cam and get it by @swoontodeath (E, 3k, WIP)

Harry Potter isn't one for pornography. He's got a perfectly adequate imagination, thank you very much, not to mention a fully functional right hand. One accidental glimpse of Tom Riddle's arse, though, threatens to change everything.

champagne shimmer by @cindle-writes (E, 21k, complete) 

Tom has one of the most popular accounts on OnlyFans. Harry, who is Tom’s uni professor, stumbles onto Tom’s stream by accident. Featuring: Spoiled brat Tom, and Harry trying to be as much of a gentleman as he can despite lusting after his barely-legal student.

Corruptible by @hiredhorse (E, 4k, WIP)

Harry Potter goes to Knockturn Alley for a prostitute, under a flawless glamour. When he sees a handsome young man outside the tavern infamous for picking up prostitutes, he hires him before he even asks his price. Tom Riddle isn’t really a prostitute, he was just making a delivery for his employer, Borgin & Burke’s. But Tom has never been one to miss an opportunity, and he sees Harry Potter for exactly who he is.

down to get the friction on by @xodahafez (E, 8k, complete)

Harry follows Tom to Albania, fully expecting to find him up to no good. What he wasn't expecting, however, was to find Tom Riddle dressed in lacy black lingerie, and better known as 'Voldamour.'

Oh my god, they were nemeses by Baryshnikov (T, 13k, WIP)

Tom starts an OnlyFans to recruit for his cult; Harry, his flatmate, has incredibly mixed feelings about it.

That's Money, Honey by @dividawrites, @duplicitywrites (E, 10k, complete)

Tom is a dear friend to many beautiful older women who love to treat him like their beloved son by spoiling him with presents. It is the perfect gateway to the perfect lifestyle—one full of frequent spa days, free holidays abroad, and all of the latest fashions. When Auror Harry Potter claims to be investigating Tom's 'inappropriate' relationships, Tom decides the best course of action is to instigate some 'inappropriate' behaviour of his own.

*

Sex Worker Harry

Cam for the Money, Stayed for the Fun  (part 1) / Cam and Get Me, Won't You Honey? (part 2) by @itsevanffs (E, 12k, complete)

Harry flushed, looking back down. 'Isn't this illegal, sir?' Professor Riddle smirked, leaning back on the couch. 'I'd beg to say what you do isn't very legal, either.'

Dark Adrenaline by @katsitting (E, 10k, complete)

Riddle was a snake—definitely. A conniving man that forced people into corners simply because he wanted to see if he could. He cared little for the feelings of others, using them just as he was using Harry to attract the attention of the political socialites in the Gala. Harry had suspected there was a far more hidden game at play when he had been in the hotel with him earlier, having caught that Riddle had set his machinations on him rather than on prominent figures in the hall. But how the bloody hell was he supposed to know it would end up like this?

Make Me An Offer I Cannot Refuse by lemonchase (E, 3k, complete) 

“I’d like to hire you for a blowjob.” Harry nods slowly, ignoring his increasing heart rate. If he does a good job, Tom might become a regular customer, and Harry is always on the lookout for those. With how rich Tom allegedly is, he should be able to afford to pay Harry every other day. This is a chance he doesn’t get often.

Night Walker by @syntheticsoulmates (E, 3k, complete)

Harry knocked on the door only two minutes late. Which was an achievement for him. He had his smile fixed before the door even swung open. “You’re not who I ordered.”  Ugh. Rude. Harry kept smiling, perfect. “No. Emergency substitution.” He looked down, traced the client up from the tips of his perfectly overshined leather loafers to the one ridiculous perfect curl falling over his forehead on the left side. He made it obvious, finished it up with a small bite on his lower lip. “You’re lucky enough to get me instead.”

Ride by @hiredhorse (E, 123k, WIP)

Harry lives with the Dursleys, but he has two best friends, a regular bunk at the Weasleys', and a bright future riding horses. It’s unclear whether crossing paths with Tom Riddle, super-rich kid and a skilled horseman himself, is good luck or bad. They crash together on the day they meet with a violent combination of mutual lust and personality conflicts. And yet somehow instead of hating each other they develop different feelings, no less intense.

Secrets of a Wixen Call Boy by @milkandmoon-ao3 (E, 12k, complete)

Echoing in the darkest recess of his mind, Harry heard Hermione lecture on his father complex. How, having never known his own father, he tended to fixate on older men... subsequently resulting in some pretty questionable romantic partners. Really, Harry couldn’t think of a good reason not to fuck or be fucked by them.

Shiver, Lustre, Skin by @monsieurclavier (M, 9k, WIP)

Harry goes undercover as a bargirl at one of Tom Riddle’s exclusive clubs. Tom has her figured out in approximately one second. Or: In which Tom is a badass Wizarding mob boss and an incorrigible lesbian flirt, and Harry—sassy newbie Auror and secret virgin—is just Tom’s type.

Twelve Weeks by @ohyondermemphis (M, 12k, WIP)

“Stand up.” Harry blinks, confused but immediately stands at the request. “Place your hands, flat, to the desk.” Indignation blooms bright in his cheeks, but he swallows, does as he’s told. Thinks with vitriol, prick. “See? Easy.” A bright smile, full white teeth. Riddle leans closer to Harry, his hand traces the curve of his face, the line of his jaw. Harry doesn’t blink. “I knew you could be a good boy.”

*

[marsdreamworld]

How Sweet It is to be Loved by You - LN4 x reader:

Mars’ Notes: I’ve never ever written anything like this before, but after rambling at @love-belle for a stupid amount of time, i thought why not? surprised it ended up being for lando and not charles but if this goes well i might j start writing a bit more!! anyways, i’m excited, please lmk what you think <333

Warnings: None!! super super fluffy :)

Description: Lando comes home to you, and everything is ok again.

————————————————————

Lando was exhausted. He loved his job, the roaring of engines, the loud shouts that always seemed to accompany the mechanics as they made any pre-race adjustments to his Mclaren, the screams of fans in the grandstands and during fan stages, but god, sometimes all he wanted to do was wrap his arms around your waist, bury his face in your neck and never leave. You were his peace, his moment of quiet in an otherwise hectic day. He missed you, and you were his rock during race weekends. He had spent the last week wishing you were with him and cheering him on from your spot in the garage.

“Lando? You ok, mate?”

Danny’s voice broke him out of his stupor, bringing his mind back to the private jet he was currently sat in, accompanied by the older driver. Just three more hours, and you can hug her all you want, he thought to himself.

“Yeah, fine, mate. Just wondering what’s for dinner.” he said, a smile on his face.

“If you say so” comes the reply, accompanied by a bright, dimpled smile.

————————————

After a hectic run through security and the throng of fans that were waiting diligently for him at the gate, Lando had finally made it home, his hands trembling at the prospect of finally kissing you again as he pushed his key into the lock of your shared flat.

“Lando? Is that you, my love?”

Your voice floated through the hallway, and he visibly relaxed - he was finally home, he was finally with you, and there was nowhere he’d rather be.

“Yeah, sweetheart, it’s me. Were you hoping for someone else?” he teased, seeing you emerge from your bedroom, clad only in one of his favourite Quadrant hoodies, and fluffy socks, your hair falling around your face in messy waves, silver wire-rimmed glasses sat on the bridge of your nose. You padded over, soft footfalls echoing, until you were stood in front of him.

“Oh shush and hug me, you muppet.”

He closed the gap between you, and wrapped his arms around your waist, melting into you.

“God, I missed you”, he said, his voice muffled by your neck. You giggled and reached up to hug him back, carding your hands through his hair and leaving sweet kisses wherever you could reach.

“I missed you more, love. Would you mind helping me with something quickly?”, you mumbled into his hair, “I know you’re tired, and it’s been a long day, I just think my brain’s gone to mush and I can barely read what I’m writing.”

He lifted his head, and simply smiled at you, brushing his thumb against your cheek, “That’s what I’m here for, remember? Moral support and grammar police” he said, winking at you in an effort to make you laugh. You looked stressed, and he could tell you had been working away at your essay for far too long already, the pressure weighing heavily on your shoulders. “I’m assuming it’s another essay for class?”

“Mhmm, the professor decided it would be a good time to assign a stupid essay two weeks before midterms.” Your eye roll and answering nod was all it took for Lando to toe his shoes off, leaving his bags and coat by the door before he dragged you back into the bedroom, dramatically flipping into the double bed that occupied the corner, landing amongst the multitude of stuffed toys that had migrated to his side of the bed in the short time he was away.

“Right then, Ms. L/N, get your pretty arse over here and read me this essay.” he said, posing and putting on his best posh British accent, earning a laugh out of you. This was what Lando lived for, these quiet moments of domesticity where all he could hear was your laugh and he could revel in the fact that it was him, him who made you laugh and him who had the pleasure of hearing it.

You grabbed your notebook from the desk you had set up opposite the bed, claiming that you worked better when you knew Lando was close to you, and walked over to the bed, climbing in and placing his head in your lap.

A reporter had once asked him a question along the lines of “If you could be anywhere in the world right now, where would you be?” He had, of course, answered with the typical “on a race track”, the answer that wouldn’t have the Mclaren PR team screaming at him post press conference, but if he really had to pick, he would say with you. Anywhere with you was where he wanted to be, but he felt so at peace here, in your bedroom, with his head on your lap and your hand in his hair, your voice soft and sweet as you read him the opening paragraphs of your midterm essay.

Lando nuzzled further into your thighs, your nails now scratching across his scalp in a way that made him feel boneless. He could feel his eyes slowly slipping closed, the warmth and comfort lulling him into a peaceful sleep.

———————-

You were three paragraphs in when you stumbled on your words, struggling to understand a sentence you’d written.

“See, that’s the sentence I really don’t get. It just sounds so chunky and I really have no idea how to make it flow more, you know? I know it needs to be technical, it is an engineering essay after all, but it just sounds so hard to read and I don’t know how to make it sound better.”

You waited for Lando to tell you that you’d made a silly grammar mistake, or that you just had to split the sentence in two to make it more digestible, but you were met with silence. Looking down at your lap, you saw Lando asleep, smile painted on his face, a hand placed on your thigh, grip tight as though he wanted to make sure you wouldn’t move.

Lando had come into your life in the most unexpected way you could have imagined - cliché, but unexpected. You’d been waiting in line at a coffee shop, needing your daily dose of caffeine before your 9AM university lecture, and he had walked straight into you, a steaming hot Americano cradled in his hands, which had eventually made quick work of staining the cream bodysuit you had chosen for the day. He’d apologised countless times, turning back to grab a stack of tissues, even going so far as to attempt to rub the stain off, but had only succeeded in making it worse. You’d simply laughed, and told him that he really should go order another coffee, before the morning rush took over. He’d stared at you, open mouthed and speechless, before stammering through an affirmative and walking away. The next 5 minutes were spent throwing glances at each other through the crowd of people occupying the store, before he broke and asked for your number, stating that he at least owed you a new shirt, and perhaps even a date? It had been natural, and felt right from the moment he picked you up at 8 the following Friday, dressed in a suit and armed with roses.

You took one last look at the essay in your hands, and made the incredibly easy decision to call it a day. You placed the stack of papers on the bedside table, shifting in order to reach, only to have Lando grip onto you tighter, a mumble of “stay” escaping his pouted lips. Your heart clenched, and you couldn’t help but coo back that you weren’t going anywhere, my love, go back to sleep. You cleared as much of the bed as you could without disturbing your boy, and leaned back into the pillows you’d stacked behind you earlier in the day, Lando nuzzling further into your stomach, whining until you bring your hand back to his curls. As you shift, Lando reaches out to wind his hands around your waist, pulling you closer even in his sleep. You smile to yourself, and turn the small lamp on the side table off - your boy was home, and everything was alright.

[hikarry]

Spencer, dear, I'm so sorry, but "I Will Survive" is not a Crowley song. Seriously? Disappointed

Bro-

Do I-

*waves frenetically towards the picture below*

Portraying Crowley as this suave, cool and mysterious guy that breathes rock is such a surface level analysis of this dork. That's what HE wants you to think of him. Gorgeous redhead fellaw with slinky hips and rockstar style, yes, BUT

He had his silly goose phase and his silly goose phase was Disco Tony and everyone in my household is going to respect Disco Tony

Look me in my bloody eyes and tell me this lil queer fella and his buddy Freddie Fucking Mercury didn't go down to the Golden Lion back in old Soho and drink their weights in beer as "I Will Survive" played and they kissed some guys here and there?

("Why the Golden Lion again, sweetheart? Why not that Harpoon Louis place everyone is talking about back in Earls Court Road?"

"Ngk, no reason. Absolutely not because I'm very desperately trying to bump into this very very annoying guy whom's I've only seen from a far since we last talked in the 60's after he gave me something we had had a fight over some years before and now we are kinda weird with each other and I dunnot know what he expects of me, but, fucking Heaven's, why does the bloody angel have to be so bloody complicated anyway? You should have seen the way he looked at me. The bloody idiot sitting in my Bentley saying I "go too fast". Go too fast?! What does that even mean?!"

"Ah. Right. Bookshop darling."

"Ngk. No. More like. Pain in my arse. The idiot. The way he looked at me made me feel like...agh....like I was falling apart. Is it really so hard for him to stop being a posh little shite and talk to me straight? Stop- Don't look at me like that. Pull that bloody eyebrow back down, you noisance. You know exactly what I mean. I just...ngk, it feels so lonely sometimes and-"

"Lonely, you say, darling?"

"Don't. Don't you even, Mr. Big Shot Rock Star. Azi-...The angel and I go back a long long time. I'm just used to have him around, that's all, but he's so...so..."

"Extremely queer and quite dishy? I don't see the problem here, really, Tony dear. Just walk up to the bloke and grab his arse. Worked for me and Jim just fine."

"You got bloody lucky, is what you got. Absolutely high out of your own arse, you bastard. I don't do that."

"Oh, but you do-"

"Ngk. No. Not to him...Bloody Heavens, stop-"

"I didn't say anything."

"I can feel you judging all the way from here, Melina."

"My sincere apologies if my sunglasses cannot hide how much I think you're a bloody cream puff, Anthonia Jennifer Crowley. The man is unmistakably almost as bent as the two of us combined. How much do you want to bet with me, right here, right now, that man is dying to have you turn him into an artiste until he is absolutely knackered?"

"Satan, you're fucking impossible sometimes...It's not that bloody simple, alright? Just. There's so much left unspoken between us still and-"

"God, that's a load of tosh, Anthony. You're arse over tits in love with the bloke and instead of getting a move on and a possibly great shag..."

"...Fred...?"

"Hold up one second, darling. Let me just-"

"Fred-What the-Fred-What-Is that-Where the fuck did you take that notebook from? We are on out way to the pub! What-! Stop bloody writing-!"

BAAM Freddie Mercury writes "One Year Of Love" on his way to the Golden Lion in Soho in the company of his mate Anthony J. Crowley, once again sucking on the man's pinning for the mysterious bookshop bloke he has the hots for.)

Anyway- (Adhd brain. It's 5 am on a saturday. What do you want from me?)

I rest my case

Snake boy absolutely asks Alexa to play that song when he is alone in his flat and he wants to feel a lil nostalgic and let loose

[galaxiasgreen]

🎃🐈‍⬛Cat Burglar

Halloween shenanigans with minor Garreth/F!Reader [T-Rated, 3k words]

“What the hell are you wearing?” “What?” said Garreth. “It’s a pumpkin costume.” “You’re taking a girl, you knobhead! You’re meant to dress sexy! Like me!” Tight trousers, a long, leather coat, and the criss-cross of belts over his bare chest… “You’re barely dressed!” “Exactly!"

A/N: This was written for @garrethweasleyfest! My prompts were Garreth POV on a major holiday, Garreth gives MC a new potion with some unintended side effects, and Modern AU coffee shop, and because I like chaos I decided to (loosely) mush all three, resulting in the most crack thing I’ve ever written.

Very grateful to contribute to the Garreth fandom in whatever small way I can. Special thanks to cuff and Elli for organising the fest. Make sure to support all the other amazing Garreth content using the hashtags #GarrethWeasleyFest and #GarrethWeasleyFest2024! And, as always, please enjoy <3

[read on AO3]

Officer Ruth Singer sinks into the chair opposite with a sigh.

“All right, Mr Weasley, let’s cut to the chase. Where’s the Ferrari you stole?”

To be quite frank, Garreth’s not entirely sure how he got here. He’s not sure why he’s wearing half a pumpkin costume and cinching-on-his-private-area orange tights. Hell, he barely knows what a Ferrari is (just that it’s expensive. And bad to steal).

He does know, however, that he did not do it.

“I know it looks bad, ma’am,” he says, trying to raise his hands – they’re handcuffed to the desk with less wiggle room than a finger up an arse. “But I’m innocent. You’ve nabbed the wrong man.”

Officer Singer has a round, childlike face, but in all her riot gear she looks barely contained in the tiny interrogation room. One swoop of her glower almost makes his orange tights brown.

“Look, kid, you were clearly out for Halloween. Want to look cool for your mates and fancied yourself a new ride, doing doughnuts or whatever.”

“I don’t need to steal anything to have a doughnut! Please, Officer Singer. I know I’m innocent. In fact, I was framed.” The detail comes back to him sharply. “And I can tell you what happened.”

Sort of. He’ll remember the specifics along the way. Hopefully.

Singer gestures vaguely. “Go on, then. Let's hear it.”

Garreth sits up.

“It all started three weeks ago…”

“Froth the milk, Weasley.”

Froth the milk. Right. Garreth turned to the countertop he’d wiped clean of droplets two seconds ago. The monstrosity taking up most of its surface was supposedly called a masheen, a big metal box with loads of buttons and a pipe stuck out the middle. He’d been working at Aesip’s Coffee House for a while now, but this contraption was so complicated he hadn’t got the hang of it yet.

“Yes, Mr Sharp.” He grabbed a carton of milk from the cool box and poured it into a jug, which he stuck under the masheen and whispered, “Heatus Upus… Ventus Milkus… Incendio? Work with me, please.”

“You have to steam the milk.”

He turned sharply. You were about his age and wickedly pretty, wearing form-fitting clothes under a long, black coat, and leather gloves accentuating the slender bones of your fingers. You nodded to the jug, brow sloped in quiet exasperation.

“Put the steam wand in.”

“Wand?” he said. Then he remembered the long pipe. “Oh, right, that thing.”

“Now pull the leaver. That activates the steam.”

You were right; the milk frothed nicely. Even Sharp seemed mildly impressed Garreth managed not to explode anything, when he took the jug with a raised brow.

“I will brew you the best drink as thanks,” Garreth said to you, when Sharp was gone.

“Just a black coffee is fine.”

“Takeaway?” You nodded. “And does my illustrious saviour have a name? To write on the cup, of course.” He winked.

You pursed your lips. “Prim will do.”

Prim. Oh, he liked that.

It became a routine. Every day you came in and ordered the same thing. He’d chat and flirt, you’d giggle and smile. Sometimes your visits coincided with that of Sebastian Sallow’s, Garreth’s annoyingly handsome, annoyingly charming, and annoyingly annoying acquaintance who through full fault of his own made Garreth look bad – but you hid when he was close, gaze flickering to Garreth under low-lidded eyes. Obviously his humour, good looks and handsome fit in Aesip’s green apron was enough to win you over.

“Hello, Garreth!” piped a voice from behind the counter. “Can I order a cappuccino?”

October cold had webbed the coffee house windows with frost. Garreth rolled his shoulders. The girl was vaguely recognisable, with glasses and pigtails. What was her name? Something stupid, like Gabble.

“‘Course! Anything el—?”

“Made ristretto with half soy and half oat milk and three pumps of caramel and half hazelnut, extra chocolate drizzle, crumb topping and whipped cream in a large cup and no water. Oh, and a slice of strawberry cake. Thanks!”

Garreth frantically scribbled it down as Gabble-Maybe skipped off to find a table. Merlin’s nipsicles, how the hell does anyone talk that fast? He went to grab the milk. Did she want almond? Or chocolate?

“Do you need help?”

Your voice made him jump. You were good at that, appearing silently. “Yes, please?”

You recited everything again, slower, and he wrote it down. “You have a great memory, Prim.”

You shrugged. “Practice.”

“Don’t be modest, you’re saving my arse. Thank you.” He scoured the cool box for soy milk. “Although, just saying, if I had my wand I wouldn’t need to do it by hand.”

“What?”

He blinked, not really sure why he said that. “Sorry. Usual?”

“Yes, please,” you said with a cute smile. “Although I was thinking… maybe adding a syrup?”

“Whoa, flying the broom away, aren’t we?” He winked. “What flavour?”

“Surprise me.”

As he concocted the drink, chatting merrily away and discreetly adding a gloop of pumpkin spice, the doorbell tingled. Sebastian strode inside in a loose shirt and pressed trousers, and a peacoat made of some expensive wool. Oh joy.

Garreth slid the drink to you, and your cute smile widened. “Thank you, and, erm… I… I wondered…” You glanced at Sebastian intensely power-walking towards him, and quickly mumbled, “Never mind,” before rushing to the nearest table to avoid getting trampled.

A second later, Sebastian slapped down some gold rectangle and proclaimed, “Coffee as black as my soul, Weasley. Make it fast. I have better things to do.”

Most days Garreth had no idea if he was joking. His sense of humour was so warped Garreth couldn’t tell anymore.

“Latte with cream then?”

“I’m in a good mood so I’m going to ignore that.” Sebastian plucked a key ring from a pocket and twirled it around. “The stock deal went through. Decided to treat myself. Don’t be jealous.”

“What the hell is that? A lighter?”

“It’s a fob,” he declared, “for my Ferrari.”

Holy shit! Garreth thought. What the hell is a Ferrari!

“If you’re nice I might let you look at it. From a safe distance. Behind a window.” Sebastian stuffed the fob into his coat pocket. “Oh, yeah, and Leander’s party tonight, turns out Missy is going, so I guess I’ll deign to go as well.” He fixed him a sharp look. “You are going, right?”

“Yes, obviously.”

“Good. You can hold my drinks. And a date?”

“It’s Halloween, thirty-first, mate.”

“No, you turd, are you bringing anyone?”

“Oh.” No, and he wasn’t likely to either. Everyone he knew was already going: Natty, Cress, Amit and Everett, Adelaide, Ominis and Imelda. He poured a black coffee and slid it over. “It’s not necessary, right?”

Sebastian took it with a roll of his eyes. “God, Weasley, why do I hang out with you?”

“Bothering me at work isn’t hanging out.”

“Do you think I want to go to Leander’s place? I’m only going because Missy is. Just find a date so you don’t look like the only loser.”

“You don’t have a date either!” Garreth yelled, but Sebastian was already halfway out the door. Merlin’s chapped lips. The bloke would be decent, really, if not for the ego bigger than a planet.

“I’m sorry to bother you, Garreth…”

He jumped. You had magically reappeared again, avoiding eye contact but batting those lovely, luscious eyelashes.

“Could I trouble you for a napkin?”

“Yes! Of course!” He grabbed a wodge. “Here you go.”

“Thank you, and the coffee is really delicious.” You looked down at your gloves. “I really appreciate you making it for me.”

“You’re welcome.” His heart did a little triple-twist somersault. “Happy to help broaden your taste buds.”

You gave him another small, cute smile, which made his cheeks warm, before retreating again to leave—

Just find a date. Sebastian’s words decked him in the face. Holy moly. He was staring at the solution.

Like a drunk shotput, he flung himself out from behind the counter, narrowly missing Mrs Hecat taking her mint tea, and hurried after you.

“Wait, Prim—” he squeaked before you stepped out, then coughed out in his very deep, manly voice, “Er, ahem, wait, Prim.”

Your face brightened. “Is something wrong?”

“D’you want to go to a Halloween party tonight?” It popped out like a stealth fart. Merlin’s uvula! “I mean. Would you— maybe, if you want— but no pressure—”

“Yes!” you blurted. “Yes, that would be lovely.”

Quickly you scribbled a string of numbers onto some paper and tucked it into his pocket. What the hell is that? some inner voice piped, but then he realised you were so close he could smell the pumpkin spice on your breath, so you could’ve given him a used tissue for all he cared.

“Send me the details?” you whispered sensually.

“Yeah, already sending. I mean, I will. Send. The details.”

You gave him a cute wave on the way out, and once you were out of view, Garreth did a little dance.

“Don’t quit your day job,” muttered Hecat, rolling her eyes.

With Sebastian’s help, and some sort of portable communication device called a foan, Garreth found himself waiting outside the café five hours later when a sleek, green mechanical carriage roared around the corner and stopped abruptly at the pavement’s side. Sebastian rolled the window down – and his jaw snapped upwards with an almighty clack.

“What the hell are you wearing?”

“What?” said Garreth. “It’s a pumpkin costume.”

“You’re taking a girl, you knobhead! You’re meant to dress sexy! Like me!”

Tight trousers, a long, leather coat, and the criss-cross of belts over his bare chest…

“You’re barely dressed!”

“Exactly! Jesus, just get in.”

Garreth reluctantly slid into the passenger’s side. The carriage was so strange, with an angled front-facing window overlooking the road, plush, leather seats and a wheel that steered itself – allowing Sebastian the chance to snatch Garreth’s pumpkin hat and chuck it out the side. They were going so fast it practically vanished.

“Who’s this girl you’ve invited anyway? Is she fit?”

“I can’t comment on a woman’s weight,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “But she’s a customer. Cute.”

Sebastian hummed. “I’m impressed. Didn’t know you had game, Weasley.”

“I get my meat from the butchers, but thanks?”

Leander’s house was a giant three-storey mansion in the countryside, fed light down the driveway by a string of torches and a collection of dancing skeletons. Sebastian tossed the mechanical carriage into an awkward spot in the middle of the front courtyard.

In the darkness, the shape of you was palpable. With a shiny black one-piece that moulded perfectly to your curves and chest, and a pair of cute ears and eyeliner-drawn whiskers, Garreth’s brain became instant mush. You were… dressed like a cat. An attractive cat.

“I like your costume,” you said to him, once you met on the front steps. “Do I look okay?”

“Errrrr,” he stammered out. “Girl… yes… girl hot— I mean, girl thot— I mean— shit—”

Sebastian rolled his eyes. “Christ, Weasley. Let’s go in.”

The party was already booming. Rock music was blasting from open parlour, and mood lighting was creating a coalescent effect of red, blue and green marbling on the walls. Bodies were squished together and dancing. The host himself was front and centre, in only a sailor’s hat and a pair of skimpy shorts, getting drunk with Natty and Cress as a succubus and a nun who’d clearly lost the way.

Dragon dung, I really did miss the memo on costumes! Ugh, and his tights were so uncomfortable, too!

Sebastian peeled off his coat and chucked it at Garreth. “Go deposit that somewhere safe. If I find any cash missing, I’ll know which skint bastard to blame.”

He immediately dove into the bodies, probably looking for Missy, leaving you and Garreth with the coat like a plonker. You took Garreth’s hand suddenly – his haunches rose.

“Shall we go put that… somewhere private?”

Merlin’s coccyx. Garreth was about to die. Of glee.

“Leander has a coat room. This way.”

The place was fairly small despite the size of the house, and it was already jammed with a variety of fleeces, bags, capes, elaborate headgear and abandoned props. He tried to find a hook near the back but nearly tripped – you snatched his arm and pulled him close to steady him, and your breath, minty and fresh and enticing, whirled into his nose.

“Be careful,” you whispered in that sensual voice. “Let me do it.”

You took the coat and stretched around him, causing blood to rush up his neck. Pretty girl. Pretty costume. His brain managed only caveman utterances as a strong impulse to crush his lips to yours overwhelmed him. When you reached back, however, your hands wandered, going from the coat to his hair, dragging your fingers through like a comb. His mouth went dry tracing the silhouette of your body, and the look of hunger in your eyes.

“Prim—” he choked out.

You placed a finger to his lip. “Outside?”

He took your hand and marched you out front again. Good grief, it was happening. He didn’t make it one step down the courtyard before you pulled him down, meeting his lips with your own. The kiss was so unexpected and warm and amazing all the hesitation in his chest dissolved. His hands met your waist, his chest your own. You tasted like an addiction, poisonous and unyielding. He wanted more, so much more.

The kissing intensified. It was so chilly, yet he was burning up within, throwing himself willingly into the flames of you. Oblivious of the surroundings, he let himself be guided to wherever the hell you wanted. Your tongue skimmed the seam of his mouth and it took all his willpower not to moan. Was this Muggle Heaven? He fell back on something soft, flat out against – a leather seat?

You peeled yourself off as you threw the rest of him into the passenger’s seat of Sebastian’s Ferrari. Garreth yelped.

“Er, Prim—?”

In two seconds you were in the driver’s seat, and revving the engine. The Ferrari purred to life, and when you hit the accelerator, Garreth’s face mashed against the back of the seat.

“Prim! What the hell are you—?”

The carriage swerved left, pitching him sideways until he grabbed the headrest to steady himself. He screamed. Only when you were in some country road did you lurch to a stop. Garreth caught his breath.

“We could’ve just snogged in the courtyard, you know!”

You turned, casting him a sweet, ominous smile, and swung a key ring around your clawed finger. He stared at it, recognising the shape…

“Wait a second… that’s Sebastian’s knob!”

“Fob, Garreth,” you corrected. “And it’s mine now.”

“What? But—”

“I have to thank you, actually. He’s been a target for weeks but getting close to him was impossible… until I met you.” You pressed something on the dashboard and passenger door opened, letting in a rush of frigid air. “I can’t believe you’d break his trust.”

“But— I didn’t do anything!”

With one swift movement, you kicked Garreth square in the chest. He took the blow unprepared, tumbling into the cold and landing on the compacted mud with a thump.

“Sebastian will notice soon,” you said casually. “They’ll find your hair all over his coat. Don’t worry, I’ve confiscated your phone so you can’t contact anyone. Should give me a few hours leeway, but I’m sure he’ll notice you’re gone first. You’re not a bad kisser though.” You winked. “See you next time, gorgeous.”

The door sealed shut, and the metal carriage sped off, churning dust and smoke in Garreth’s face.

“And that’s how I was framed.”

Officer Singer stares at him like he’s become the pumpkin.

“You’re saying this girl Prim used you to steal the Ferrari from Mr Sallow?”

“Exactly right!”

“When she doesn’t exist?”

“What?”

“The number you texted isn’t in service. No record of her at any local business or university. You don’t even have a name?”

Garreth feels sweat drip from head to arse. “N-No, but I swear she’s real!”

“Yeah, okay, and I’m going home to feed my unicorn.”

“Unicorns are real too! And Sebastian saw her!”

“Mr Sallow did indeed see someone that night, but it was dark. She could’ve been any of the other party guests.”

“But she wasn’t—”

“I’m afraid the evidence is stacked against you.” Singer stands. “You’re under arrest for Ferrari-theft—”

“No, please!”

“— where you’ll face trial—”

“No!”

“— and then… Azkaban.”

“NOOOOO—”

“—OOOOOOOO!”

Pain shoots down his head and shoulders. Garreth gulps in a sharp breath and pries open his eyes – everything’s blurry, but he can just make out his legs stuck in the air and the rest of his body awkwardly folded between the foot of his bed and the floor. Except for undergarments, he’s arse-naked. Everything’s spinning, his hair’s dishevelled, and his innards feel like they might quickly become outards.

“Garreth! Are you all right?”

A vague shape above him crystallises into you, staring down at him with a hand over your mouth. You’re barely dressed, just a thin nightgown.

“Prim… what…?”

“I told you that potion was a bad idea,” you scold, helping him onto the bed’s edge. “Enhancing your dreams… try nightmares! I tried shaking you and nothing worked! You just sat there and drooled for thirty minutes!”

“Wait— so…” Everything was a dream? That tavern with the weird masheen and Sebastian’s metal carriage and you being a cat burglar but not the cute kind—

“Prim,” he pulls you into a hug, “Merlin’s nappy rash, I love you. I love you just the way you are.”

“Er…” You pat him on the back. “I love you too?”

“And I will be the best boyfriend ever as long as you never to get me arrested for a Ferrari!”

You fix him a sweet, if exasperated smile.

“You know I would never try to get you arrested, Garreth. Whatever you saw in your nightmare wasn’t real.”

And thank goodness for that. He sags and rests his forehead against yours.

“I’m never drinking that potion again.”

“That sounds like a very wise idea,” you say. “I do have to ask though… what’s a Ferrari?”

Garreth kisses your nose.

“I have absolutely no idea.”

Fin.

My eternal gratitude to CharlesSTBeaufort for fielding all my annoying car questions. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed! <3

[read on AO3]

[Divider credit]

[stevesharrlngtons]

a family affair.

tangerine x reader

word count: 3.5k

summary: there is an interloper in tan’s family and he doesn’t like it one bit.

or: tan really hates change.

an: as i said, in my atj era and couldn’t help wanting to write a lil something for tan (as that’s all the fanfic ive been reading lately lol) enjoy!

“All is well, my love,” you murmured comfort to Tan as your eyes roamed the plastic plated pub menu in front of you. 

His fingers had been playing an angry tune on your waist for fifteen minutes, the solid gold of his rings battering your skin in a way that had started to smarten. He expelled ragged exhales through his nose every few moments, and with all his fidgeting next to you, you weren’t confident about the headspace he was in.

“I know that,” Tan replied in a cold clipped tone.

“Really? Because I can hear you grinding your teeth from here. Keep that up and when they get here, you’ll open your mouth to say hello and powder will puff out.” 

“I won’t be sayin’ fuckin’ hello to ‘er.” 

Your brow ticked and you took your eyes off the menu to turn to him, “you will absolutely be saying hello, and you will absolutely make conversation. We talked about this.” 

“I know we talked about this,” he seethed and crouched low to your ear to say, “but I told ya then and I’ll tell ya now, I don’t got a best behavior.” 

His free arm extended across the table as he shook the linked bracelet he wore back down on his wrist, his biceps flexing to test the already tired seams of his navy button down. The tension pulsing through him was palpable, you could sense his wound muscles and hear their screaming aches.

“Well, you better find one,” you said with a shrug, then returned your gaze to the tri-fold pages in front of you. The loud peeling the pages made as you pulled them apart effectively silence your boyfriend’s anxious knuckle cracking while his eyes burned into your profile. No matter how edge he was, you refused to give into his griping to ditch out on the evening and head home.

This evening at the pub was a night of much contention for Tan, and one he had hemmed and hawed about all week. He pulled out all the stops to get out of tonight, but to no avail. No “forgotten plans” or “last minute jobs” or “I just want to have a night in, just the two of us, love”’s would get him out of this, and deep down, you knew he knew that, too. Because tonight was for his brother, and he would do anything for him. Even this. Sometimes, he just needed a little reminding.

“I don’t bloody understand-“ you cut him off before he could continue.

“Because Lemon was extremely accepting of me, almost more so than you in the beginning may I add,” Tan’s grumbling continued, “so we are doing the same for him. He is your brother and you love him.” 

His mustache twitched with discontent and you rolled your eyes. 

“If she sucks, then we can talk shit about her all the way home, OK? But until then? She’s innocent until proven otherwise, and we’re giving her a chance.” 

“Not wise to quote the legal system to me, love. If ya know one thing ‘bout me, it should be that I don’t give a rat's arse about that.” 

“Well it’s not wise to be snippy with me, because it seems I am the only one holding this meeting together.” 

You stood after your retort, Tan’s hand that had been resting on your waist fell to his lap. His face soured further at the action. 

“Now excuse me while I go to the bar to order us a round. You keep scaring off all the waiters and we need to look friendly and warm when they get here. Beer and appetizers are how we are doing that.”

“Warm,” he scoffed, “I ain’t fuckin’ warm, darlin’.” 

“Well,” you leaned back toward him and pressed a chaste kiss to his temple “you are for me.” 

He blew out an unconvinced breath through his nose (but didn’t disagree) that left you laughing. You turned to make your way toward the bar before Tan stopped you. 

“Just sy’know, if that bartender looks at your ass like he did when we were comin’ in? I’m takin’ his eyes out with a fuckin’ melon baller.” 

“Best behavior, remember?” you sing-songed and walked away before he could respond. Though, you knew that his retort was no doubt a string of expletives. 

After a good natured conversation with the bartender, whose flirty banter you were glad Tan could not overhear, you armed yourself with your purchased supplies and headed back toward the booth. With four glasses and a pitcher of lager held strategically in your hands, you were so focused on not letting anything slip from your grip, that you almost didn’t notice that your table had grown by two. 

“Well look who's playin’ barmaid tonight,” Lemon exclaimed as he noticed you nearing the table. 

He stood from his seat immediately to come to your aid, something you thanked him for profusely. He waved you off with a smile and placed his cheek to yours in greeting. You couldn’t help but notice that he was wearing a new aftershave, one that smelled similar to his brother’s, and that his face was clean shaven. 

Once you two parted and had divided up the glasses and beer, you finally had a chance to peek at the evening's guest of honor. 

“You must be the girlfriend,” you said cheerily, extending your hand, “I’ve heard so much about you.” 

Pin straight black hair acted as a curtain to reveal a pair of thick glasses and brown eyes as Lemon’s girlfriend turned to you. Her face was expressionless, bare of any makeup and smooth of any distinguishing emotional wrinkles. The turtleneck sweater she wore, thick and wool,  was a deep purple and rose to the bottom of her jaw. Her gaze flicked over your form and then landed on your awaiting right hand. 

“Likewise.” her tone was flat and disinterested, her handshake just the same. 

Without even looking at Tan, you knew that the tips of his ears were turning red and his nostrils were flaring at the perceived slight made against you by this new woman. Respect was everything to him, and when not given to him, or worse, you? His blood began to boil. 

“Rebecca this is (Y/N), and (Y/N) this is Rebecca.” Lemon introduced. 

You looked back toward him once you had released Rebecca’s hand, the grin he offered was cheek splitting in its size. Your heart squeezed at his clear happiness. Only if his brother felt the same way.

“Well, it’s so awesome to finally meet you,” your tone was sweet and Rebecca’s face was disillusioned by your friendliness.

“Yeah, so awesome,” she barely controlled the eye roll you knew she was itching to complete.

You made your way to Tan’s side of the booth, who practically manhandled you back into the seat next to him, his arm lasoing you to his side. His large palm squeezed your hip tight in silent communication. One to say “I was right about this crazy bitch, and I’m going to lose my bloody mind”

You gently placed your hand over his and extended up to place a soft kiss to his jaw, your silent reply of “I’m right here. It’s ok, we’ve got this”

Tan only wished he could believe you. 

His eye had begun to twitch seven minutes after Lemon and she arrived. The tension in his shoulders had reached a peak of almost unbearable pain and he swore he was about to crack a molar or burst a leak in his tongue by how hard his jaw was clenched.

The woman who accompanied Lemon tonight (yes, he was refusing to say the harpy’s name) was quite possibly the most vile and unpleasant woman he had ever met. That was certainly saying something too, as he was a contract killer and killed vile men and women on the daily. But this woman? The one Lemon was looking at with stars in his eyes? Somehow topped them all. 

Pompous, arrogant, self righteous and shrill. He'd known her all of thirty minutes and he could already tell she was a pretentious martyr. Quite frankly, he thought she was a cunt. 

And the worst part? The part that was really sending his anger into orbit? That both his brother and his girlfriend didn’t seem to notice. Well, Lemon didn’t seem to notice, you just didn’t seem to care. 

You were a people person, you liked to talk to strangers on the subway, to census takers at the door and doctors office receptionists on the phone; you liked to make people smile, make them happy. You could also schmooze. You could say exactly what someone wanted to hear and pin the inner workings of people psyches and youtheir sore spots in the blink of an eye. While Tan needed to be in physical control, the looming threatening force in every room, you were happy to sidle up next to him and find out what made people tick. You were polar opposites and the perfect team. You were the sweet to his salty (and yes, he knew there was a joke about his namesake in there somewhere…) and the tamer of the wildfire that swarmed in his stomach.

Even as a sunny extrovert, you had your tells for when discomfort and nervous energy would start to creep in. And Tan? He knew every fucking one. 

Your smile would grow just a little too wide, a hair toward painful and not so cheerful. You would start to nod in long intervals that would weigh on the side of awkward. You’d tap your fingernails together like Dolly Parton and trace the scar on your pinky that you got when you were eight, the repetition soothing to you.

And now, while Rebecca droned on about United Kingdom policy reform or… whatever drivel she was talking about, Tan could see all your tells in full swing.

And yet? You continued to engage the spider in friendly conversation while Lemon continued to giggle like a schoolgirl at her rubbish responses. She was lucky she hadn’t said anything outwardly offensive to either his brother or his love, because truly, Tangerine had no problem with putting a bullet between her eyes and every other patron in the bar so there were no witnesses of his execution of this terrible double date. 

He knew you wouldn’t be happy about that, and Lemon decidedly less so, but you’d both get over it. You would place your hands on your hips and sigh (the way you always do when he got a little too murder-y outside of working hours) but Tan would grovel so nicely for you, kiss you tenderly and whisper sweet nothings in your ear and then happily do the same between your legs. And Lemon? He’d buy him a Guinness in a few days and ring his favorite call girl from London and things would be peachy once again for the three of you. 

The three of you, his mind emphasized, just the way he liked it. 

“Oi, mate,” Lemon said and he tipped his chin up toward his brother, effectively breaking Tan from his thoughts “did ya hear me? I said Becca went to Oxford and MIT in the states. She was at Oxford the same time we were in the area ‘bout five years ago, you ‘member that? What are the odds?” 

Yes, Tan did remember. They were in Oxford to kill some geezer scientist who swore he had struck up an invention to turn water into gasoline. He and Lemon got a pretty penny for that job. 

“Bloody rivetin’, it is,” Tan replied, sarcasm oozing out of his mouth. 

“It’s like we really have been just one step apart our whole lives, aint it?” Lemon nudges Rebecca with his shoulder, which rocked her slightly in her seat. Her expression stayed stagnant. 

Tangerine swallowed a long pull of beer before he replied, “Truly unfortunate you crossed paths now then, ‘innit? Could’a kept up the game of being strangers a while longer. Hell, maybe forever.” 

Lemon’s eyes widen and Tan can tell it’s taking effort for his brother to not let his smile slip. He was feeling the four large beers he had consumed while suffering through the night. His composure and any hint of “best behavior” he’d had, had begun to slip away and fast. Combine that with your shared discomfort over this spider? He was ready to escalate this evening to deadly levels. 

Until your soft hand crossed over Tan’s chest and rested on his left shoulder, your cheek moving to rest on his right. The reminder of your presence gave his fury pause, and when your lithe fingers broke the barrier of his unbuttoned shirt to dance across the skin of his collar bone he felt his racing heart slow. 

With one simple touch, you proved you knew his own tells, too.

“Well, I may not be a ballet prodigy like this one,” you gestured to Rebecca, “but I have been watching people dance all night and I want to go join them.” 

Ballet prodigy? When had the table learned that? Fucking hell, maybe he was drunker than he thought. 

“What do you think, honey?” 

Lemon responded before Tan had the chance.

“Yeah, y’know what? I think that would do us all some good,” he inhaled a deep breath through his nose, before he stood and pulled out Rebecca’s chair for her. 

“Bar dancing. How very Footloose,” Rebecca drawls and took Lemon’s hand he was offering you. 

“Oh bloody fuckin’ hell,” Tan shook his head with a scoff. 

“OK, let’s go,” you huffed and hauled Tan up by his arm.

He left the booth without a fight and let himself be maneuvered through the sea of dancing pub patrons and drunken social groups. His head was on a swivel in an effort to keep his brother in his sights, but his bleach blonde mop soon was lost in the sea of people, likely what you were striving for. Soon, a gap appeared on the dance floor for the two of you to take residence in.

“Well, that was a god damned shit show, wasn’t it?” Tan said as his hands quickly found your waist and pulled you to his chest, “don’t wanna to say I told ya so, but…” 

He pursed his lips smugly and you chuffed a laugh. 

“You’re such a dick." 

“Imma dick? Really? After we just sat with Margret fuckin’ cunty Thatcher for an hour?”

A boisterous laugh left you this time, an Tan felt his chest puff in pride at the sound.

“Y’know what? Two. Two I told ya so’s for tonight. For the best behavior bollocks, and the fact that that woman is in fact, a complete fuckin’ bitch.” 

“Oh, she’s not that bad. She’s definitely a bitch and a bit cold, but she’s not horrible.”

Tan pulled you even closer as you both swayed gently to the old folk song that played from the jukebox. His eyebrows raised incredulously and his mustache shuffled under his nose. 

“On a scale from not that bad to the fuckin’ spawn of satan, I’d say she’s broken the meter, love.” 

“I thought you said it was a scale, not a meter?” 

“Of fuck off, don’t get smart with me.” 

You grinned, but began to relent, “OK, so she’s not the most,” you floundered for a word for a moment, “pleasant, but not everyone can be! There has to be sucky people so the best people can stick out.” 

“Sucky? You’re going with sucky to describe the hag now?” his tone was baffled. 

“You already called her a cunt. I didn’t feel it was necessary to repeat. She’s bad, but not a cunt times two.” 

It was Tan’s turn to laugh, “You’re too sweet for your own good, ya know that?”

You made a sound in disagreement. 

“Not too sweet, just trying to give her the benefit of the doubt. Maybe she’s bad with new people? Fuck, maybe her only coping mechinism is superme levels of bitch, who knows.” 

“I thought you were an expert on figuring out why people are the way they are?”

“Well, she’s a tough bitch to crack. I’ll get her, though. Eventually.”

A grin continued to stretch on Tan’s lips as he looked down at you, his hands still on your waist and your hands gently cupped the nape of his neck. 

“But really, I wanted Lem to see us giving her a chance, alright? I wanted him to know we are giving her a fair shot, just like he gave us.” 

“Wrong. Lemon loved ya the moment he met ya because you are fuckin’ wonderful darlin’, and he isn’t blind so he knew it. His little creature is nothing of the sort,” Tan shot back quickly. 

He wouldn’t let you even entertain the idea that you and her were similar. Tan wasn’t even sure you two were born on the same planet.

“Still, she deserved a fair chance. I didn’t want him to think that you were going to go all sterile soldier on him and reject her before we even got to know her.” 

Tan rolled his eyes at the nickname. It had been given by Lemon the very first time his brother realized how adverse he was to emotions and change. You weren’t lying when you said that Lemon had been more welcoming than Tan had been in the beginning of your relationship. He didn’t like change. He liked things the way they were: him and Lemon, the way it was supposed to always be. Meeting you? That fucked everything up. You were the gorgeous cog in the carefully organized assembly that was his life. It took him longer than he cared to remember, or admit, to realize that maybe he liked his life a hell’uve a lot better with an intruder like you in it. You were what his well oiled machine was missing. 

“It ain’t that, love,” he replied and pulled you closer. His chin went to rest on the crown of your head and he inhaled your floral shampoo.

“Maybe it was a little, though?” you asked against the skin of his throat, and Tan didn’t have to respond for you to know the answer. 

Of course it was that. Rebecca being a slag only worked to solidify her as public enemy number one, but she had secured that placement before Tangerine even knew her name. She had the ability to cause a rift in his life- the ability to take his brother and the comfort Tan found in him- and he just couldn’t have that. 

“You know how I am,” was all he said in return, and you did know. 

“I do… which is why I am proud of you, baby,” you pulled away enough to meet his gaze, “because four years ago, you wouldn’t have even entertained this night. But look at you now.” 

Your smile thawed him further, though the compliment made him feel awkward. 

“So what? Ya sayin’ you fixed me?” 

“Nah,” you moved your hands to frame his cheeks, “just shaped you up a little.” 

Tan shook his head at your words and did his best to not be charmed by them, but to no avail. 

“See? Too fuckin' sweet. If I were watchin’ us, I’d fuckin’ retch.” 

Your lips met his a moment later, and your sickening display of affection continued to onlookers. And Tan didn't give one flying fuck. With the taste of your lips on his and your plush body pressed to his front, the only worry he had was if he could shuffle you to the bathroom in time to fuck you the way he needed to.

“But really,” you pulled away abruptly (far too soon) (much to his and his cock's annoyance), “Me, sweet? C'mon, I mean I can be… but listen if Rebecca had said one bad word about you at that table? I would have jumped across it and ripped a chunk of her hair out. No holds barred, the gloves would be off, baby.” 

It was Tan’s turn to laugh, full and hearty. And hell, maybe even a little warm.

“S’my girl.” 

Then he took your hand from his face and rose it above your head to spin you in a wild circle like a music box doll. Your sequel of joy was music to his ears. When he was finished with his expert twirling he pulled you firmly back to his chest. Tan wasted no time to let you catch your breath or recenter yourself in the still world before his mouth was on yours again, picking up right where you left off moments ago.

As he devoured you with his kiss and groped your body up just the way he liked, he slowly started to forget the terrible start this evening had.

Tomorrow, he’d talk to Lemon to smooth things over. Fuck, maybe even ask about the spider and how his brother was doing in the relationship, even if it pained him to think about. Sure, he was doing his best to be more in touch with his “emotions”, but the thought of a full heart to heart with Lemon did make his stomach queasy. 

He’d have to decide what he needed to do in the end, but for right now with you in his arms and the promise of a hot night ahead, the discomfort of what was to come didn’t seem so bad.

well, i hope you liked it! (: not my favorite thing i've ever written, but i just really wanted to start writing fics again!! lemme know if you want some more atj stories and if you enjoyed this, i'd love to hear it with a reblog, comment or like <3