#that hat will be seeing me in court | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ceilidho · 10 months ago

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take me home, country road

[ao3]

You have nothing on your person apart from a hastily packed suitcase and the dress you came into town wearing, on the run from trouble back home. Too bad John's missing a bride that matches your description. Or: the 1800s (mistaken) mail order bride au (part 7)

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6

You watch him like a hawk after that.

Not because anything’s changed. In fact, nothing’s changed. Seeing him drag a man by the collar of his shirt, the look in his eyes punishing and severe, has only confirmed the essential imbalance in your relationship. You don’t suffer the same fate as that man being dragged from the bar not because of mercy or leniency or forgiveness, but because the truth hasn’t yet come out. You’re safe because the truth is still hidden, a fact that could change at the drop of a hat.

The thought makes you wary. You watch John in the days after with a scrutiny that borders on the paranoid. Does he already know? Has he left you stewing in ignorance all this time while waiting for the proper authorities to arrive? When he looks at you, does he see the blood on your hands? Does he know that he’s looking at a murderer? Does he know that your sins weigh on you like heavy stones dragging you down into the earth?

Every time the porch steps creak, your heart turns to stone and betrayal rushes up your throat like acid, and it burns.

Then the door opens and John walks in. His face lights up when his eyes fall on you. “Hi darlin’.”

All you can do is let out a shuddering breath and slump into his embrace.

You’re waiting for it to happen. Even when he pulls you into his chest at night, a big arm settled around your waist and his palm spread wide over your belly, you tense and wait for the truth to come out. But all he does is sigh and fall asleep, tucking you closer into his chest. You stare at the wall until the grooves between the wooden boards start to expand, the darkness encompassing every inch of the wall before bleeding down to the floorboards and up to the ceiling. Then you wake up and it’s the next day.

The truth is imminent. It shines its light on the darkened path before it and stalks forward. You cower in the shadows waiting for it to find you, hopeful that it won’t. Sure that it will.

There’s never a good moment to pack your bags and leave, and the longer you stay—as the days turn into a week since you first disembarked from the train and wandered into a town soaked in russet and red—the harder it seems to get a moment of peace. Though John wasn’t exaggerating when he said that a sheriff’s job never stops, you hadn’t thought that it would involve so much.

Between chores and John and the townsfolk, you can’t get a moment to yourself. The closest you come to it is when Kate leaves you to your thoughts while she helps the customers. Even then, she still comes by every now and again to offer you a tea or brandy ball to suck on.

You resent the idea that you need to be babysat, but he isn’t exactly wrong either. You’re not too stubborn to admit that. Under Kate’s watchful eye, you aren’t scurrying off anywhere. Instead, you help out around the shop where you can, offering to stock the shelves and sweep the floors. On occasion, you even get on your hands and knees in front of the shop to pull up the weeds, but that draws more attention than you’re comfortable with. They simply aren’t as concerned with weeds out here.

Most of your time is spent loitering around town waiting for John to take you home. Sometimes you join him for the day, trailing along after him when he goes out to collect the taxes or you accompany him when he has to attend trials and hearings in the court house, where you sit quietly in the public gallery and watch in rapt attention as the magistrate conducts the court proceedings, but there are days where that’s simply not possible.

“You’re gonna spend the day with Laswell, alright?” John tells you, pinching your chin to tilt your head up.

He loves that little gesture, you’ve realized. Loves to touch you and guide you with a hand on your back or chin or arm, a hand brushing down the side of your waist to pull you in, gripping you by the nape of your neck just to hold. Even now, in broad daylight and in front of the window to the general store where anyone could look out and see the two of you, he keeps his thumb there, reluctant to let you go. The thought makes your neck go hot.

“When will you be back?” you ask.

“Later this afternoon—before dusk, so don’t go worrying about heading home without me. I have to see to something a few towns over.”

“Oh…what do they need you for?”

John frowns. “You’ve got an awful lot of questions today.”

“Never mind. Have a safe trip.” You don’t know why his reluctance to tell you anything frustrates you so, especially when he has good reason to, but even you can hear the way your voice grows petulant.

His thumb squeezes against your chin, holding your head in place when you try to turn away. “I’m overseeing a hanging. Couple of men were found guilty of murder.” He studies you so intensely that he can practically see in your eyes the way your stomach turns at that. “See, I thought that might upset you. This is why I didn’t wanna tell you, darlin’.”

“It’s fine,” you say, swallowing. “I’m a big girl.”

“Yeah,” John agrees, brushing his thumb up your chin until it tugs at your bottom lip, watching the way it snaps back into place when he releases it.

He makes every moment feel like a last goodbye and a homecoming. You almost can’t meet his eyes under the intensity of his stare, but you also can’t look away. Not with how he looks at you like some precious thing.

You expect it before it happens, but when he dips his head to plant a soft kiss on your lips, you go breathless for a moment. His beard is bristly against your skin, just south of coarse. The kiss turns into another, even more tender than the first. You resent the way you lean forward when he pulls away, chasing after him.

“You be good for Miss Kate, okay?” he says, waiting for your reassurance.

“I will,” you rasp, mortified at how easily he unravels you and how plainly you let it show. John grins when he hears the tremble in your voice.

Then he leaves, riding off towards where the horizon dips below the visible and you watch until he disappears completely, falling away with it. Kate beckons you inside after that, and it’s just hot enough out that you gather up the skirt of your dress and follow after her, climbing up the steps to the general store.

Kate is a tough nut to crack. She’s kind and never rebuffs your questions when you make conversation, but she also isn’t exactly forthcoming with personal information. She seems more than happy to let the conversation lapse into silence. When there isn’t a customer to serve, she’ll take out a leather-bound notebook and write, going so deep into her own thoughts that you sometimes need to call her name a couple times before she’ll respond.

“Kate,” you say again, waiting for her to finally blink and look up, which she does with only the faintest glimmer of impatience in her eyes. “Care to join me on a walk? I need to stretch my legs and…well, I don’t know my way around just yet.”

She snaps her book shut, winding a bit of string around it before placing it back beneath the counter. “There’s a restaurant on the other side of town if you care for a bite as well. I could do with something to eat.”

It’s not as much of a walk as you might have expected. You learn along the way that Kate has lived in town for several years, taking the shop over from her predecessor, a former employer prone to drinking and prone to expiring from that very same vice. She speaks of him with familiarity and affection for the dead, but none of the longing and misery that you’ve come to expect from someone grieving a loss.

“You came far just to find a husband,” she remarks when the two of you are seated at a windowside booth in the restaurant. She spreads a cloth over her lap and you follow her lead.

You bite your lip. “I’ve heard good things about the frontier.”

Kate looks amused by that. “Now who’s been lying to you?”

You laugh, half genuine and half to keep the atmosphere light. You don’t tell her that no one lied to you about going out west because no one had said those words to you in the first place. There hadn’t been enough time for a conversation after the event, only enough time to unlock the study door and wash your hands of the blood in the sink downstairs before fleeing the manor with only your purse and cardigan, the feather duster still lying on the floor upstairs. You hadn’t even bothered going home.

There’s no telling what your aunt and uncle must have thought. You try not to think about that because there’s no going back now. You had the luxury of a single cry on the train as it chugged away from the station and the day slipped into night, but nothing more than that and nothing since.

You tuck into your food when the waitress comes back with your meal.

“John said you were a schoolteacher before this?” Kate says, pulling you back into the conversation.

It makes you nervous to lie too much about a subject you hardly know, so you smile and nod instead of responding.

“You must be quite the polymath,” she continues, eyes downcast, not allowing you a good read on her. “Arithmetic, writing, history—goodness knows the skills one needs nowadays with the leaps and bounds in education. Thank goodness for the Common School reformers, giving women the opportunity to develop young minds.”

“Yes,” you croak, then clear your throat. “I certainly did my best to…educate the children.”

Comical, given that you’d dropped out of school at the age of fourteen to work in a factory sewing buttons onto shirts.

“And was the profession enjoyable? I know John mentioned you were keener on starting a family than continuing on as an instructor, but was it an informative experience?”

“Oh yes, it was. I enjoyed it. Immensely.”

“It must have been nice to work in a profession with such little turmoil.”

“I couldn’t have asked for better,” you agree, your smile tight now, wavering only a bit at the corners.

Kate stares at you for a beat too long. It makes your stomach hurt and you fight against the urge to wilt under her stare. You can’t imagine you’ve said something wrong with how little you’ve said, but her stare makes your skin crawl.

Finally, she smiles, the skin around her eyes creasing. “Well, that’s just lovely to hear.”

You put the conversation out of your mind on the walk back, sure that you must have imagined the flicker in her eyes.

John comes back earlier than you expected. You swear your heart jolts in your chest when you hear the sound of a horse whinnying outside the shop out of nowhere and a man’s low, rough voice responding back, soothing it. You hear the sound of dismount, boots hitting the ground hard, and then come up the steps, each step making the spurs on the back of his boots rattle.

When he opens the door, his eyebrows jump up at the sight of you already there waiting. Your eagerness should embarrass you, and it does, but there’s not much you can do about it, and there’s even less you can do about the way you melt when he says, “There you are, darlin’. Time to go home.”

Precious is the world where home has come to mean something tender and soft, even as much as you’ve pushed against it. You still hold fast against the notion, steeling yourself when John helps you up onto Buttercup and follows suit, riding home at almost a gallop. You hear his laughter on the wind when you yelp and nearly slide off, his arm around you the only thing holding you in place.

“It’d be easier to ride if I had pants,” you complain when you dismount, hands pressed to his shoulders when he helps you down. “How do women even ride sidesaddle on their own?”

“Plenty of women do, darlin’. It’s nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Well, I don’t like it.”

“We can get you pants if you need them so badly,” John says, looking up to the sky like Lord help me suffer this woman. “But that means I’ll be teaching you how to ride Buttercup on your own. Think you can handle that?”

You balk at the thought. “…Let me think about it.”

He snorts. “You do that.”

He leaves you to your thoughts when he takes the horses out to the paddock for a bit.

You sit out on the porch and watch the sunset while the horses run around the pen, soaking in the last hour of daylight. Overhead, clouds as big as mountains pass, heavy like an oil painting. Off in the distance, you can see thick clouds blotting out the sky entirely, the belly of them split open and letting out a downpour of biblical proportions. You only grow a bit nervous when you notice the wall of rain moving closer to your house with the wind, inching forward more every minute.

It’s not long before John notices it too. He whistles for the horses and waits until they trot back over to the gate, fixing the lead to their mantles again and leading them one by one back into the stable. A light drizzle begins to pour. It churns up the dust and dirt when it hits the ground, scenting the air with the fragrant smell of earth.

You head over to the stable as John brings in the last horse, hovering by the door while you watch him run his hand down Buttercup’s muzzle, whispering softly to her. If he notices your presence, he doesn’t acknowledge it, his attention focused solely on her.

It gives you a chance to admire him from the back. Thick thighs in indigo jeans that seem almost painted on. Shirt tucked into his jeans, stretched taut at the shoulders; dark droplets of rain drying already. The dusting of hair on the back of his neck. You can see the fine lines on his forehead and in the corner of his eye from the side angle and it reminds you again that he’s older and more weathered than you, settled into his age rather than floundering in it.

“It’s raining,” you say, just to have something to say. You shrink under his gaze when he turns towards you, faint amusement in his eyes.

“I noticed.”

You cringe at that, aware that he knows. He’s the one that brought the horses in after all. There’s just something in you that feels compelled to open your mouth when he’s around. An impulse that makes you cheep like a bird.

“Looks like a bad one,” you mutter instead of shutting your mouth, instead of hightailing it back to the house and shutting all the windows to keep the rain from coming in. Useless girl.

“Probably rain all night,” John says, squinting out at the sky through the open door. It’s darker now, a storm brewing.

“Is there…is there anything we have to do? To get ready?” You don’t know why you say we like this is a partnership, but it comes unbidden and you know if he told you to hurry back and take in the porch chairs, you would.

“Nothing to worry about. I’ll close up the stables and seal the windows—storm probably won’t hit for another hour or two. After dinner, we’ll turn in early.”

With a final stroke down Buttercup’s jaw, he steps away and moves towards you. You feel rooted in place again at his approach; the thought of taking a step back never even occurs to you. When he finally reaches you, he doesn’t hesitate to reel you in by your hips, drawing you into a deep, wet kiss that he breaks only when you whimper into his mouth.

“You feelin’ better about being out here?” he asks, low and intimately. “Looked like you had a good time with Laswell.”

“She’s nice,” you say, deflecting from the other question.

John hums his agreement, readjusting his hold on your waist until every inch of him is pressed against you. Your breasts are flattened to his chest, belly pressed to his; every hard inch of him, solid as an oak.

“C’mon, honey, talk to me,” he murmurs. “Have I been treating you right? You still have any reservations about marrying me?”

“Bit late for reservations, isn’t it?”

He clucks his tongue. “‘Course it ain’t. Won’t change anything, but I still wanna know.”

It’s hard not to consider the possibility of being honest with him for a change when his gaze borders on the devout. No one in the history of time has ever looked at you like this, like you hung up the moon and stars. The thought chokes you up. In all the years of your life, has one other person looked at you and asked if everything was to your liking? John’s love borders on reverence, straddles the narrow divide between the telluric and the celestial, the earthly and the divine.

It’s dizzying. And you’re not built for subterfuge. Not built to lie to the one man that, despite everything, despite taking you from your former life by force, has offered you a new one on a silver platter.

You wet your lips, conscious of how dry your mouth suddenly is. John’s eyes follow the glide of your tongue over your lip.

And then you lie. “None whatsoever. I’m happy here.”

Maybe it’s a half-lie. After he shuts the stable doors and barricades them to keep the doors from swinging open in the midst of the storm, you wind up back on the porch watching the dark clouds up in the sky slowly approach, John at your back this time.

John tilts your head up into another kiss. You don’t know when you made the conscious decision to let him think you amenable to this relationship, but you cling to that thought desperately when his tongue licks into your mouth velvety smooth.

The roof extends out over the porch, keeping the two of you dry, but you can hear the sound of raindrops pelting the slate shingles.

“You’ll see, honey,” he says against your lips, the words rumbling through you, buzzing under your skin and making it tingle. “‘M gonna make you so happy. Never gonna even think of leaving me.”

The words dissolve on your tongue. Swallowed down dry. With his arm hooked around your waist and hand tilting your head up, there’s no way you could think of anything else except wanting more.

It’s hard to talk when he has you up against the railing, your dress pulled up and his fingers spreading apart your lower lips. It’s not the first time he’s touched you there, but it’s the longest he has, at least without the barrier of your underwear. His fingers spread your labia delicately, middle finger running up the wet seam. He hums into the back of your head while he does and presses a kiss into your hair.

“Always so soft and wet here, darlin’,” John murmurs, stroking his fingers up your inner lips and petting the sensitive nub at the apex of your sex. “Why didn’t you tell me you’ve been aching for it? Been waiting for you to give me the word.”

Waiting, he says, while tucking a finger into your sex, curling it up into you and chuckling under his breath when your hands clamp tighter on the railing and your back arches. Just a single finger feels like more than you can handle. John has thick fingers; thick fingers with calluses that you can feel on the delicate flesh between your legs. It plugs you up tight, more so when your core clenches involuntarily around his finger. His chuckle descends into a groan, then a sigh.

He pulls his finger out against the squeeze of your internal muscles, ignoring the way you whisper, “No, please” under your breath.

You only stop pleading for more when he swirls his finger around your pearl again, lavishing it with attention. “Aching? I’m not—”

“You are, darlin’,” he breathes, and now you feel him pull you from the railing, stepping back to take a seat on the porch swing. He pulls you into his lap, sitting you across it instead of with your back to his chest like he did in the bath the other day.

“Anyone could come by—” you hiss, fluffing the skirt of your dress out around your thighs when he tries to push it back up to get his hands back on your nethers.

“You tense up when you’re nervous, honey,” John cuts you off, forcing his hand back up your dress until he pushes his finger back into your quim, delighted to find it hotter and wetter, practically dripping onto his lap. “See, there you go. Just relax. I’ll make you feel good, darlin’. We’ll take care of that nasty ache.”

You pant through each pulse of his finger. You don’t even think about looking up to meet his eyes, not when he stares down at you with obvious adoration and devotion, the emotion splayed across his face. He looks entranced at the sight of you coming apart on his fingers, a flush high on his cheeks.

“No one’s gonna come by. Not this far out. ‘Sides, they know to keep their distance. Newlyweds need their space, right, darlin’?”

Supposing he’s right and no one comes out this way. Isn’t it still unseemly to do this out in the open? So far from your marriage bed? John seems incapable of relegating his affections to that space, unconcerned with propriety or modesty. You wonder with a spark of fear if he’d even budge if someone were to come trotting up the walkway on horseback or if he’d just wave them off and send them on their way. You don’t think he’s the kind of man to want an audience, thank the Lord, but he seems entirely unphased by even the idea of being intruded upon.

You melt when he shushes your worries, feeling you tense against him, and sinks his fingers in deeper, now another. Don’t fret, he murmurs against your temple, sighing softly. I’ve got you, honey. Ain’t going nowhere.

You aren’t, are you, you think wildly. The land around here goes on forever and the train whistles by only twice a week if you’re lucky. Then townsfolk know you by face and a false name, but that would be enough for them to grow concerned if they were to spot you heading for the train with your suitcases packed, and with John or one of his deputies always in town, there’s little chance you’d be able to board without one of them interfering.

Still though, it’s better than the alternative. For over a week now you’ve been on high alert, waiting for an arrest warrant to be slipped onto John’s desk with your likeness drawn on it, and for him to come collect you stone-faced and furious. It could still come.

He keeps you tucked into his arms and nestled close, shushing you when you hiccup and pinch your lips together to keep quiet. He lets you have that, unphased by the way you try to hide it, only tutting when you try to fight it, curling his fingers up inside you and rubbing a spot inside of you that makes it hard to breathe.

“I could just take it, but you’re gonna give it to me, darlin’,” John says.

And you do. Messily, noisily. Burying your face in his neck and sobbing it out, humiliation wrung out of you, squeezing out every drop. He smells like musk and old sweat, amber warm. Liquid gold. You press your nose into the skin of his neck and draw in a breath so deep that you go lightheaded.

John keeps his fingers tucked in you until you stop shaking, talking you through it even though you hardly hear a word. How could you over the rush in your head, the blood in your ears? When you open your eyes and look around, the sky is swollen and dark, the wall of rain

“C’mon, honey,” he says, pulling his fingers out and placing his hand low on your belly. “Let’s go inside.”

You sit across from him at dinner, eating under candlelight. The weight of his gaze for once isn’t stifling.

The rain only starts in earnest when he’s pulled the quilt over the two of you and pulled you into his arms. The rain pelting the windowpane dulls to a low roar when you turn over and snuggle deeper into John’s chest, pulling the blanket over your head. Tomorrow, the grass will be greener than the day before. You can feel it in your bones.

#ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #price x you #john price x reader #price x reader #price/reader #john price/reader #john price

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woso-dreamzzz · 5 months ago

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Leaving VII

Alexia Putellas x Teen!Reader

Summary: Olympic chaos with your sister

Y/NPutellas.S has started a live video. Click to join!

"-Got two backpacks," You're saying as Alexia clicks on your video," I think one of them might become my racket bag because the one I'm using right now is falling apart."

You shove the bags away, glancing around the space as you drag more towards you.

"There's a toiletry bag as well which is full of stuff I probably won't even use."

You pause as you scroll through the comments.

"What sport am I competing in? Oh, I'm doing tennis...Who will be the hardest to play against? Iga, always. I train with her most of the time and I think I've only beaten her a few matches this year. She's scary. Coco always gives me a good competition too. I think she text me a few hours ago but I haven't answered just yet."

You go back to showing off your haul.

You're very complimentary of all of the shoes but you seem confused as to why you've been given so many socks.

Alexia takes a screenshot of a weird face you make while trying on the bucket hat and hastily makes it her profile picture.

"I'm not a fan of the opening skirt," You tell your followers," It's not really my style. I'll wear it because I have to but...What's that? My sister's here?"

You crowd a bit closer to your phone, brows furrowed as you scroll up looking for Alexia's comments.

She feels triumphant at the look of horror on your face when you see her profile picture.

"Alexia!" You shriek," Change it back! My eyes aren't even open! Ale, please!"

Alexia does not change it back and you swear under your breath at her.

"I'm telling Mama!"

Alexia Putellas: Go ahead, you little snitch

"I'm not a snitch!"

Alexia Putellas: Yes, you are

"Don't listen to her guys! She's such a liar!"

You've always been more active on social media than Alexia and fans eat up any content you post on your TikTok. Most of your fans are just people that watch tennis but you've gone viral overnight when you posted a video of you and Iga reuniting at the Olympic Village.

Suddenly, everyone wants content from you and you're posting more than you ever have before.

A lot of it still centres around your tennis, out on the practice courts with the rest of team Spain but there's more domestic things like you retaping your racket grip and showing off everything in the Olympic Village.

Something in Alexia snaps when you make a video complaining about how uncomfortable your cardboard bed is. Suddenly, she's stitching your video.

Her camera pans across her normal hotel bed and ends with her giving a thumbs up to the camera with a smug grin on her face.

Her own fans go crazy over her posting something outside of sponsorships and it's strange to see that some people don't even know who you are.

woso.alexia.engen: Who was the first person in the video???? -> captainklittle: Alexia's little sister! She's representing Spain for tennis!

A second stitch appears hours later, piggybacking off a video of you complaining about your lack of AC. There's no sound apart from the very deliberate flick of Alexia's own AC switch.

It seems every complaint you post, Alexia finds a way to show off how much better she has it in a hotel outside of Paris.

You decide, perhaps a little pettily, to show off what she's missing.

"Hi, guys!" You say," I know a lot of people were wondering about pin trading so I thought I would bring you along for the ride! I've already got a Poland one from Iga and a US one from Coco but I've been wanting a Team GB one and I'm also meeting up with Paolini so she can give me an Italy one."

It's another live video and thank god there's a break in training, so Alexia can jump onto it again.

Jenni and Misa crowd around her at the same time, curious as to what's going on with you.

"I was talking to Carlos at breakfast and he was telling me that the coaches have ordered us all mattress toppers because the beds have started to affect how we're performing."

Alexia Putellas: Sucks to be you, doesn't it?

"Alexia, I swear to god if you keep bullying me then I'm telling Mama and she'll fly out to whoop your ass!"

Alexia Putellas: 🤪

"And Jenni I knew that it's you that just sent that because Alexia doesn't understand emojis."

"Fuck," Jenni mutters.

"Wait, give me the phone. I'll fix it," Misa says.

Alexia Putellas: Who's Jenni?

"Misa, I know that's you as well. Stop trying to cover for each other and I'll tell Mama and she'll whoop all of you."

Alexia doesn't get her phone back for the rest of your live but she does get a strongly worded text from Eli after it's over to grow up and not let her friends bully you.

Alexia calls you a snitch.

You remind her that she should stop bullying you.

"Look who it is!" Jenni cajoles as you come running out of the village to crash into Alexia," Baby Putellas!"

But you're not really listening to her as Alexia presses her forehead against yours, whispering fast Catalan to you as you giggle.

"Aw..." Misa continues where Jenni left off," Look at them! Two sisters! Reunited!"

You and Alexia push each other away, turning your back and pretending that you weren't hugging just a few moments ago.

You turn back to her quickly, hand out. "Can I have your pins?"

"What? No! They're mine!"

"You're not even in the Village! You can't use them!"

"Yes I can!" Alexia splutters out," I've been trading them!"

"Yeah? With who?"

"Jenni!"

"Liar! You've got the same pins! Come on, Ale. Give them over!"

"I will...for a price."

As Alexia lays out her terms, you bring everyone up to your room.

Jenni and Misa split off briefly to check out the dining hall but Alexia comes straight up with you.

"It's actually cardboard," She says, poking at your bed frame.

"Yeah? Do you think we were all lying about that? It's proper cardboard. You can draw on it if you want."

A smile splits your sister's face open.

"Never mind. I don't want you drawing on my bed."

Alexia pokes it. "Do you think it's true? That two people can't get on it at the same time?"

You shrug, rummaging through your bedside table. "I don't know. Why?"

You never get your answer though.

Arms are around your waist suddenly and you're being hauled backwards as Alexia slams herself onto your bed, dragging you back with her.

You may not get an answer but Alexia certainly does because the moment the two of you land, there's an almighty ripping noise and your bed goes to ground very quickly.

"Oops," You sister says.

"Alexia!"

"Sorry?"

"You don't sound very sorry at all."

"Yeah...You're right. I'm not sorry in the slightest. Hey! Stop hitting me!"

"You're lucky I'm not beating you with my rackets!"

"Hey. Hey! It's fine! You can get a new bed."

"Jenni and Misa are going to take the piss out of me! How could you do this, Ale?"

As annoying as your sister is, she at least has the decency to push the blame off onto her friends as you both hastily raise your bed up again and wait for Jenni and Misa to arrive.

They seem to have the same idea as Alexia, jumping onto your bed without so much of a greeting.

But, as planned, the bed collapses under them and the shock of their faces is enough for Alexia breaking your bed to be worth it. Their faces are even funnier as they head downstairs to ask for a new one for you.

Behind your back, Alexia passes you a handful of pins.

JenniHermoso10 has started a live video. Click to join!

"Forward! Forward!"

"I am going forward!"

"More forward! When I say forward, it doesn't mean shuffle! It means walk forward! You're a person not a pigeon!"

"And here we have Olympic football player Alexia Putellas and Olympic tennis player y/n Putellas, attempting to climb onto the rings," Jenni narrates from behind the camera.

"It's not going well," Misa says, as Alexia nearly throws you from your spot on her shoulders," Alexia is clearly struggling."

"I'm not struggling!" Alexia insists, yelping as you twist her hair in your hands.

"Forward!

"This is as forward as I can get!"

"That's such bullshit! Move closer!"

"I can't!"

"You can!"

"I don't think they're ever going to make it," Jenni says," It's like they can't-"

"Stop! Ale, stop! Left a bit. No! Too left. Right again. Left! Right! Left!"

"Left, right, forward, back," Alexia mutters," Make up your mind."

"Left and...got it...Wait! Don't let go!"

You haul yourself from your sister's shoulders onto the centre ring, positioning yourself perched on the sliver of the yellow ring that enters the black one.

"Alright," Alexia says," Give me a hand."

"What? No! You'll pull me off!"

"Give me your hand!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"No!"

She braces herself on the lower rings and grabs your hand, pulling herself into the centre ring before you can even shove her off.

"Oh," She says," That was pretty easy." Alexia grins at you but the smile drops from her face when she notices the pensive look you're wearing. "What is it?"

"I've just realised," You laugh in disbelief," When Mama said she wanted a picture of us and the rings. I think she meant in front of them. Not in them."

"Oh."

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso

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wvyld · 6 months ago

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yeah the paint thing was confusing — I thought it was an illusion, at first, like with the... when he was underground in the first book, in the safehouse or what it was, fake paint guy charged at him; I though it could be something like that. as it was, it just felt unnecessary? the concept was there, and with it being there, it felt like she should have lived.

For a series that literally starts with the protagonist’s resurrection the Matthew swift books do a pretty good job of establishing that This Is Not A Universe Where People Come Back From The Dead. The circumstances of Matthew’s resurrection are so convoluted that there’s no reason to expect them to happen to anyone else, (not to mention that it’s clear that an entity as powerful as the blue electric angels is needed to make that work) and while there’s plenty of ghosts and memory fragments and half-alive necromancers in the setting, nobody Just Comes Back (not even Matthew, if the whole transporter problem conversation is to be believed.) and there was never a moment where I as a reader actually expected anyone to be resurrected after death had been established

#I was looking at it with the perspective of having read a (maybe yours?) post about how everybody around matthew dying so I figured #Vera was probably dead? but I really didn't want her to be #.....looking forward to finding out what was obvious no other option I the court #though I do fear how the 'no killing for the greater good' thing will be handled in the future cause #end of mayor left me going like. it could've been done better! on a purely technical plot lines level it could've easily been done better!#I'm halfway like — I was skipping paragraphs by the end there which is a bad habit and. I'd like to see it done right like —#unapologetically?#like — there was #like he refused to do it and there was like fifty of the spectres and I was like 'no way this ends without a bodycount' which was like #if he's fine with aldermen dying then okay — but narrativley as a writer — either address that or don't make him face that choice #and maybe it was addressed and I just skipped it cause it was near the end of the book and it was late and. well; bad habit #but — he could have figures it out earlier #he could have never put forth the idea of killing the sorcerer — could have figured it out on his own investigated —#cool sorcery scene about finding the hat in the building a 'ohhh evil alderman' moment #this is so off-topic to the actual post #(sorry)#(I do also really like how they handle necromancy and resurrection)

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writteninlunarlight-years · 5 months ago

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How they react to you wearing their shirt/jacket/coat

Adam

He never viewed himself as possessive, yet seeing you wearing one of his band tees was a sight to behold.

You were supposed to be a one-night fling, a groupie obsessed with the first man.

You were so much more though, as you didn't see him for the titles or power but as Adam the angel, Adam the human, and Adam the Rock fanatic.

He never wanted to be tied down and committed to one woman, not after Eve, but you adorned in his clothes, now that did something to him.

Soon, his shirts became your shirts, and the label of best girl that was a friend became just girlfriend as he made you his permanently.

Nothing excited him more than watching you happily run around the other angels marked by him just from the cringy band tee.

Domestic life never struck him as a necessity until you came around, and soon, he went from a possessive boyfriend to a domestic husband.

Alastor

He would never let a lady be cold. It was just not right, and his momma raised him to be a good man, even if he was a cold-hearted killer.

You were nothing more than a colleague at the forsaken hotel, and you would remain that way as did every other person in his life. He was a transactional man, after all.

He was so confused when he saw you wrapped up in his coat as you two made your way to Rosie's to pick up meat for the hotel. Witnessing you bundled up gave him a warm feeling.

You were just the same old you that he grew fond of filling the hotel, yet you suddenly became so much more in that instant as you looked up at him smiling.

Soon, his jacket became a staple of your wardrobe, as he found every excuse to drape it over your shoulders and ensure your comfort.

His courting seemed to have some effect on you because he couldn't hold back the genuine grin as you asked him out on a date months later with that same red jacket wrapped tight around you.

Love was something he had never considered, yet looking at you and the way his presence so nicely wrapped around you, he figured he could give this thing called love a shot.

Lucifer

He wouldn't say he was possessive of his top hat, yet he did have a knack for not letting it get into the hands of others.

You were a trusted friend, though, and the thought of you playing with it or messing with it never bothered him, yet his reaction to you wearing it was not what he was expecting.

As he turned from his latest duck to see you happily wearing the white hat, a swell of pride overtook him. You were his just for a moment.

The thought scared and excited him all the same as he quickly realized the feelings he was having. He wasn't an idiot. He knew better than to question love like this.

However, he was scared and so worried you would turn him down and leave him like Lilith did all those years ago. Yet you always stole that stupid hat, and each time you smiled and wore it, he grew one step closer to just asking you to be his.

You beat him to the punch, though. Upon returning his prised head accessory one night, a note was attached to the red band around it that asked simply, 'Will you go out with me?'

He never said yes quicker in his life, and before he knew it, just like his hat became something he loved seeing on you, he also began to love seeing his hand wrapped warmly around yours.

Husk

His suspenders were a staple of his everyday life, and he never went a day without wearing them since his chains appeared around his neck.

However, watching you stroll out of his bathroom and wearing them made him laugh and be awe-struck.

Yeah, you looked dorky, but you were his dork, and in that moment, the world seemed to align just for the time being. No sad or depressed thoughts, just you right there pretending to be him and being so fucking happy about it.

Slowly the guilt and fears ate at him, though, due to him worried you would see just how fucked he was mentally and physically being chained to Alastor.

Yet you always grabbed those suspenders and put them on to cheer him up, and eventually, he couldn't help but buy you a matching pair of your own so you two could match.

He felt so close to you when you accepted him for all he was and would continue to be, and it was refreshing for once to know the world wasn't crashing down on him as long as your smiling face was around.

Although he never officially asked you out, it was clear to anyone with eyes that you two were reserved for one another. From the loving soft looks, to the matching suspenders, you two were everything to one another.

Vox

His watch was a timepiece, to say the least. He may have been the future this, that, and everything, yet his watch would forever be the classic fifties Rolex.

He never let it out of his sight or far from his person yet the day you unclasped it and asked to look it over he had no problems letting you.

He knew things were getting serious when it came to you. He was growing more attached and in love by the day, yet when you put on his watch and showed him how it swallowed your arm in size, he couldn't help but smile and laugh.

You were so fragile and too good to be stuck with someone like him and the Vees, yet you were always loyal and faithful, which he adored and needed in his life.

As you hung around him the watch became a fidget toy for you, he would quickly take it off as soon as he saw you and hand it over allowing you to paly with it and look over the intracacies.

He enjoyed how happy it made you and how he could practically feel your warmth radiating from the cold metal when you returned it to him.

The day he asked you to be his, he used no Voxtech or any equipment he normally sold; instead, he bestowed upon you a simple small Rolex to fit your wrist and match you to him.

Prompt assistance: @literallurker

#x reader #headcanon #lunarwritings #moons #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbinhotel #adam x reader #alastor x reader #lucifer x reader #husk x reader #vox x reader #adam headcanons #alastor headcanons #lucifer headcanons #husk headcanons #vox headcanons #hazbin hotel headcanon

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bookshelf-dust · 4 months ago

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no trace of skin left unkissed

art donaldson x fem!reader

gif by @jennacrtega

word count: 2,072

warnings: swearing, flirting, a little suggestiveness/allusions to intimacy/sexy stuff, but otherwise this is pure fluff

synopsis: art wants you to play tennis with him. and when you do, it only cements how whipped for him you really are. only in competition with how whipped he is for you, of course.

a/n: hello!!! i’ve been sitting on this idea for at least a month now, simply because i just couldn’t get my fingers to do the typing and my brain to do the storming! but alas, i have finished it, and i’m super super soooo happy with how it turned out. this is the first thing i’ve written for art, but i think i got a good handle on his mannerisms. i’m all giddy just because i enjoyed writing this so much. i hope you enjoy reading it!! <33

————

“What are you doing? Why are you blushing? Stop blushing. You are not into this.”

Your boyfriend removes his hat from where it sat perched the wrong way round on his head. He shoves it on yours instead, his warm fingers brushing your forehead as he tightens the strap for you.

His grin is downright sinister. “You’re into it when it’s me. I don’t look nearly as good in a skirt.”

Your hand shoots out, on a mission to slap the shit out of your boyfriend’s arm, but he senses the rift in space and time, catching your wrist before it makes contact with him. Art uses that leverage to pull you forward, his lips crushing against yours.

“Mm!” you yelp, suddenly way too interested in his mouth to fuss over his choice in distraction technique.

Art has this way of kissing where it’s like he needs you to consume him, like he needs to press all of his affection for you directly into each slot of his lips over yours. He needs you to know you’re the only person in the world, and when he kisses, he’s determined to lose sight of anything other than you.

The only downside to this is that each time he pulls away, you’re forced to recalibrate.

“But seriously, does it fit okay? ‘Cause I looked at the labels for some of your leggings and stuff and then had Tashi help me pick it out,” Art breathes.

You look down, smoothing your hands over the pleats of your skort. “The fact that Tashi supervised makes me feel a lot better.”

Art’s expression shifts, his brows scrunching and his lips taking a downward turn. “What, you don’t trust me?” The lilt in his voice is nothing short of teasing.

“I trust Tashi’s ability to pick out something practical for the tennis lessons you’ve decided to give me.”

You shoulder your bag, push your sunglasses up your nose so they settle right into that little sweet spot. You smell like sunscreen and vanilla shampoo, and Art can’t even process the fact that you're giggling your way out the front door.

That and his eyes are glued to the way your skirt bounces with each of your steps. Tashi picked out a lightweight, baby pink tennis dress for you. It has shorts built in, and the sweetest little ruffled hem.

“Wait, you think I’m gonna put you in something all flouncy, a-and,” he snaps his fingers, “what’s the word for it?”

“Slutty? Yes, Art. You see something short and scandalous and your eyes bug out of your head.” Your hands shoot out in little bursts like baby fireworks. “See? They’re doing it right now,” you laugh.

Art pouts. Literally. His plump bottom lip juts out and you have the urge to bite it. “Hey. Don’t be mean to your tennis coach. I’m a gentleman.”

You snort. “Then open the door and lead the way, Mr. Donaldson.”

————

“You know, I think I like watching you play tennis a whole lot more than I enjoy actually being on the court.”

Art catches the ball you’ve just smacked in his direction. Your brows furrow, confused as to why he’s stopping.

“Hold this for a sec,” Art says, a suspicious lilt to his voice. The tacky grip on his racket is damp from his sweaty palms. You almost want to make a joke about how you're holding the Art Donaldson’s tennis racket. Almost.

But then the man in question pulls off his shirt. It takes a little effort, considering the heat of the day. You watch as he peels it away from his sweat-slickback, revealing the prettiest spattering of freckles across his skin.

The sunlight reflects off of his pale complexion, making him look almost…ethereal. You’re starting to understand why Icarus flew directly into the sun.

Art flips his hat so that it’s backwards and tosses his damp shirt on top of your bag perched sweetly in the corner. The smile he gives you is sick.

He looks down, nodding at his own bare chest. “This help, baby? A little motivation for you?”

Art picks up another ball, bouncing it up and down as he struts your way. He grabs hold of the net separating the two of you and leans into your space. His blonde hair sticks out in little tufts around his ears and forehead.

You fan yourself with your hand. “Hmm. Maybe. Gives me motivation to kick your pretty ass.”

He laughs, pearly white teeth reflecting the bright afternoon sun. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You press your lips to Art’s in a quick fashion. You can taste the sweat on his upper lip, smell his deodorant when he raises his arm to cup your jaw. “It’s not fair that you get to be pretty and good at tennis.”

Art feels your clammy fingers brush his as you take the ball out of his hand. He backs up, grinning endlessly.

“Remember what I told you. Put the ball against the racket like that. Feel it out. You gotta figure out which serve feels best for you. What works for me won’t be the same for you.”

It feels so strange to hold the ball in your non-dominant hand, knowing if you even want the ball to reach Art’s side of the court you’ll have to toss it high enough that you can successfully hit it.

Your hand-eye coordination surely isn’t winning you any awards, but your first toss isn’t horrible. A little low and definitely not a straight shot, but it’s high enough that you manage to both hit it and have it reach Art.

He doesn’t say anything, not when he recognizes that look in your eye. This is something he wanted to try with you, something you could do together without any of the stress or socializing that usually accompanies tennis.

Your tongue pokes out from between your lips, the skin much more swollen and plump than usual due to the heat. They look like they do early in the morning, when you’ve coaxed each other awake and he kisses you until you can’t breathe. Full and slick and enticing.

Art goes decidedly easy on you, but you’re having fun.

The longer you play, each time a breeze hits the backs of your knees and Art lets out one of those noises you love to tease him about, you start to see why he and Tashi and Patrick love this so much.

There’s a solid ten minutes where neither of you lose the ball, lose your rhythm. You’re completely focused on making sure that ball hits your racket. It’s almost liberating, being somewhat mediocre at this.

Art, on the other hand, isn’t focused at all. He’s doing his best to keep up with you, but he can’t get over how good you look right now.

The pleats of your skirt bounce with each of your steps, each of your little hops when he hits it just too high. There’s a sheen of sweat glistening on your neck and collarbones, making you look like a fucking goddess.

Not to mention how pretty you look in his hat. In clothes he bought for you. And he can’t help himself each time you bend to pick up the ball or get a sip of water, because he gets to see the slightest bit of skin at the tops of your thighs, the little creases left permanently in your skin where the fat of your ass meets the slope of your leg.

You catch on after a while, seeing his eyes drag over your bare legs, your chest, your neck. You smack the ball particularly hard, a hit Art should’ve taken in stride, but instead, he misses. The ball makes a pinging sound as it hits the chain link fence and bounces down the court.

You toss your head back and laugh.

That’s all it takes for Art to drop everything and grab hold of your legs, tossing you over his shoulder. You’ve been poking at his ribs, telling him how you can’t concentrate when he’s looking at you, but he was insane to think he’d be fine to play tennis with you.

He can’t concentrate worth a shit. Not when you look like that and are looking at him like that and you’re smacking his ass and laughing so hard and fuck—he could marry you right now.

————

A wet towel slaps against Art’s ass. “You look like a slut in those underwear, Donaldson.”

He looks at you over his shoulder, hands in the dresser drawer. “Are you complaining?” he asks.

You splay out across the mattress, feeling the cool comforter against the soft of your belly where your shirt has ridden up.

“Me? Oh no, just complimenting you,” you quip.

Art lets out a small snort, pulling a pair of plain cotton pajama pants up his legs. You watch as his fingers tie a quick knot at the waist.

His eyes are on you, blue irises unforgiving, but there’s the tiniest lift at the corner of his mouth. It’s not something you’d notice if you hadn’t spent so much time learning his mannerisms.

“I like your slutty underwear,” you say.

Art moves toward the edge of the bed, lowering himself onto his knees so that he’s level with your face. You watch his collarbones shift under his skin as he reaches up to cup your cheeks.

“I like your slutty underwear too, princess.” He reaches one arm behind you to smack the swell of your ass. Your panties aren’t really slutty. Just dainty. Lace and whatnot. Art’s hand lingers on your bum just long enough for him to give it one good squeeze.

His chest is directly in your face. You take the chance to lean forward, nipping at the skin over his ribs. His hips are soft beneath your hands, freckles covering almost every inch.

Art’s brow furrows as he looks down at you. “Hey, hey. Why are we so bitey tonight?” he asks, lowering himself back onto the rug in front of you. He starts peppering your face with kisses. They’re gentle and sweet, yeah. But the way he paces them, the way he makes sure you can feel the drag of his nose, his lashes, against your face makes them sensual. They give you goosebumps.

When he kisses your lips, you make sure to gently pinch his bottom one between your teeth. “They’re called love bites for a reason, lovey.”

You let your arms stretch out in front of you, your chest hitting the mattress. Your hands smooth over Art’s shoulders and up to his neck. You pretend not to notice the flush your chosen pet name has given him. Patrick would have his ass if he heard that.

You raise your gaze to meet his. “And you deserve so many of those sweet bites for giving me such a fun day today.”

Art’s nails scratch over your neck and you stifle a moan. “Yeah? You enjoyed it?”

You nod, biting on the inside of your cheek. Art taps his thumb on your jaw, signaling for you to quit before you hurt yourself.

“Maybe we could do it in one of those air-conditioned places next time? It’s too fucking hot for that.”

He chuckles, slotting his lips over yours once again. His brow furrows, and you can practically feel him pressing his affection into you. When he pulls away, he wipes the dampness from the corner of your mouth.

“You know we can,” he starts. “It’s always better in the fall, too.”

Your stomach flips with the urgent need for him. He’s too perfect, and he’s too far away from you. He should never be that far.

You put your hands on his sides and add the slightest bit of pressure, as if you’re going to hoist him up. He gets the memo and stands.

For a moment, the image of him towering over you, looking at you with those doe eyes, makes you forget every thought that was previously in your head. Art’s hands fall to your sides, mimicking your moves from seconds before, and you allow him to maneuver you onto your back so he can settle on top of you.

“And next time, princess?”

You hum, preoccupied with the weight of him above you. His hand cups your chin, encouraging you to make eye contact with him.

“Next time, that cute skirt stays on when we get home.”

————

note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!

rb banner by @steph-speaks

#savannah’s fics #art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x fem!reader #art donaldson x you #art donaldson x y/n #art donaldson imagine #art donaldson fanfic #art donaldson fluff #art donaldson fic #art donaldson x f!reader #art donaldson x female reader #art donaldson fanfiction #art donaldson comfort #art donaldson challengers #art donaldson one shot #art donaldson oneshot

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kyunniebuns · 5 months ago

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˗ˏˋ Jealous! Lovesick! Jinwoo x Fem! Reader ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ˎˊ˗

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

・┆✦ Entry : 042 ✦ ┆・

╰┈➤ ❝ [ You really wanna do this?] ¡! ❞

Hunting had always been a dangerous job, but in your eyes? it's better than an average 9-5 job. You were never really the type to be locked in a simple place. You loved getting into gates just because they inspire you for your next creative projects— Minus the fact hat you have to help transport heavy mana crystals.

Better than nothing, it pays a lot and you get to spoil yourself with things you could only dream of as a child.

As the day comes into a close, your boss hands you your pay for the day and sends you off.

With the heavy envelope in your hands, you cheer happily and rush home where you can shower and dress properly

Despite the fact you're a weak hunter, you still can't help but dress prettily. You were sweating like a pig earlier, and now that you're clean and fresh you're wearing a frilly dress and a cardigan over your shoulders.

After making sure you're looking okay, it's off to the outside world you go.

Your childhood teddy bear made a comeback and you decided you wanted to buy the new big size for it.

The streets of seoul were so alive and crowded, but thankfully the air was extremely refreshing.

When the store finally came into view, you immediately jumped in excitement and dashed inside to where the shelf of the teddy bear was.

The yellow bear was given bigger sizes, and the one you picked is almost as big as your upper torso.

Are you complaining? No of course not! The reason why you worked so hard today is because you wanted this bear specifically.

After fangirling for a bit, you clear your throat and make your way to the cashier where the lady smiles at you politely and scanned the code.

Before you can even reach for your wallet to pay— A hand behind you shot up and offered the cashier a black card.

"I'll pay for the bear," The familiar, handsome voice says. "Please."

"Jinwoo!" You squeak, turning your head to see Jinwoo's familiar face who just threw you a charming smile.

"I told you that if you wanted something, just text me." Jinwoo says, ignoring the cashier who was clearly trembling and out of her wits as Jinwoo tapped his card on the scanner. "Is that so hard to obey, hm?"

"...How did you even find me" You pout.

"You wont shut up about the doll last night and I just so happen to know there's a plushie store nearby your apartment." Jinwoo ruffles your head, just as he always did ever since you two were little. "Come on, quit being a pouty little thing and walk with me"

Jinwoo takes your heavy plushie in his arm, taking your wrist with the other and guided you out of the store.

"H-hey, where are we even going?" You whine, but ultimately just gave in and followed behind Jinwoo.

The two of you walked for a while and eventually reached a relatively peaceful park.

Jinwoo starts chatting you up, asking about your day and how work went. And in turn, he told you about how boring his day is.

Yeah, must be nice to be a powerful hunter now, huh? Everything is relatively nboring for Jinwoo now because it's just so easy now.

"Stay here, I'll get us something to drink." Jinwoo says, handing the plushie to you.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

Jinwoo went to a nearby cornerstore, slightly humming to himself as he starts picking up a few snacks and drinks.

His mind was stuck on you, he is supposed to be doing something productive for today. But after Jinho heard that he was craving to visit you, the boy's face beamed immediately and pushed Jinwoo out of the ahjin guild— Practically kicking out of the building he owns himself and be off.

What was going on in Jinho's head at the time? He can never really know.

But he is thankful anyway, he had always been quite fond of you. Jinwoo has long since had a crush on you, but never once tried to court you. You two grew up together after all.

You probably think of him as your older brother figure.

While him?

Oh Darling,...

When he's with you, the grey skies would turn blue and brilliant. The air would feel even more fresh and lovely. Everything around you would suddenly be seen through rose-colored lenses.

Just as long as you were there, everything was beautiful.

He wanted to give you the world, he wanted to protect you, only him.

You were Jinwoo's salvation.

So long as you are there for him, he'll always come out as the strongest.

Everything is much bearable as long as he knows he would come back to earth greeted by your lovely smile and affections.

Jinwoo wanted nothing more than to protect your precious smile, make sure that tears won't ever threaten to touch that lovely and pretty smile of yours.

What is it that you want? Just tell him and it shall be yours.

Why would you be denied of your own happiness anyway? As long as he is there, you'll never be unhappy. You wont ever be sad.

He will make sure of that.

"..."

Jinwoo pauses in his tracks towards you, his grey eyes turning lilac immediately as he sees you chatting up another man.

He saw that person before in the eyes of his soldiers whom he placed in you. He was one of your colleagues who is acting a little too close with you sometimes.

That bastard is always hovering around you and was icking Jinwoo as of late.

And to dare even appear now when he is having his alone time with you?

Jinwoo's gaze hardened even more when the bastard tried reaching his hand up towards your face.

"Hey," Jinwoo's voice interrupts, immediately startling both you and the man into stopping what he was doing.

He fakes a polite smile, approaching with confident strides, "Ah, a coworker?"

"Mhm, he was passing by and decdied to greet me!" You cheer happily, failing to notice the ever slightly flicker of lilac in Jinwoo's grey eyes.

"Is that so?" Jinwoo hums, giving you the snacks and drink he bought you before reaching his hand up to offer it to the man. "I'm Jinwoo, her friend."

"J-Jinwoo?" The man paled as he shakily accepted his offerm and winced lightly when he felt Jinwoo's tight grip. "U-uhm..."

It was only a small squeeze, really, not enough to break his finger. No, not just yet.

Jinwoo's grey eyes would flicker into a different color, not that you can see so he isn't too worried. He was directly gazing at the man, his stare direct and straightforward.

It was a silent statement to back off.

A silent exchange between men, really.

That should be enough, right?

Jinwoo lets go of his hand and the bastard excuses himself, saying he needs to help his mom back home.

"You were smiling at him," Jinwoo says once the person was far away, his grey eyes coming back as it gazes upon your shorter stature beside him.

"Should I be grumpy then?"

"Pfft," He rolls his eyes, tapping on your nose lightly. "And what if I wanted you to?"

"Hahah, knock it off!" You lightly smack his hand away, making Jinwoo just shake his head in return.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

Jinwoo thought he already warned the bastard enough, wasn't that handshake enough?

he was just checking in on you really, when his shadows picked up the distant conversation of your coworkers saying that the same man should just start making a move on you.

He hasn't been hiding that foolish lovestruck look on his face after all.

Why waste any more time.

"Hahah..." The bastard sheepishly chuckles, scratching his cheek. "I'll ask her out in a bit"

A pit in Jinwoo's stomach dropped, and it wasn't a pleasant one. He was never the jealous type of person anymore after all. After becoming the shadow monarch and getting whatever he desired back then, he stopped yearning for unnecessary thing in exception for you whom he has been pining for forever.

Unlike his little jealousy back then, right now it's as blazing as the fires of hell. He was mad.

It's an unpleasant thing he is feeling.

That man? Really?

What can he do for you?

Fuck around and all?

He doesn't even look like he is willing to move mountains for you.

And if a monster suddenly appears what then? Will that vastard throw himself head first to guarantee your safety?

Can he ever even spoil you?

Will he stay loyal and never break your heart?

Will he never dare to look at another woman once he's yours?

Will he ever make sure you never cry?

It's making Jinwoo's head spin.

And before the bastard can even get your attention— He disappeared.

"..." Jinwoo's eyes would turn purple again, tapping his finger on his throne's arm as the man appeared before he completely startled.

"Wasn't my warning enough?"

"Hunter Sung?" The man trembles, collpasing on the floor as Jinwoo suddenly rose from his seating and approached. "Wait! I-I can explain!!"

"Explain what?" He snarled, his gaze completely cold and ruthless. "That you just attempted to make a move on my girl behind my back? I already shook your hand, wasn't that enough?"

"Please!" He begs, completely scared and about to piss himslef as Jinwoo wrapped his hand around his neck and lifted him up. "Hunter Sung, please!"

"I could kill you right now," Jinwoo tilts his head a bit, his blank look completely deranged. "Or maybe lock you up here in the land of eternal death, torture you, break your your mind, tear you limb by limb and put you back together,... Do you think I can't do any of this?"

"I-I'll stay away!" He cries out, "I-I have a family, my mom!..."

Jinwoo drops him, wiping his hand with a handkerchief as the bastard gasps for air.

"I-I wont touch her! N-no, I'll resign and find another job!" He begs. "Please, please don—"

"No need." Jinwoo scoffs. "Getting jobs these days is hard. If your mom needs you then keep the job,"

"But!—"

"Do you want me to change my mind?"

"No sir!"

Jinwoo gritted his teeth, if it weren;t for the fact this guy had his mom he would have kept him here. Instead, he just waved his hand and the bastard disappeared right before him.

He pace back and forth on the throne room for a while, taking a breather, trying to calm down. Nibbling on his nail even as he just felt so restless and pissed with no way of calming down.

Calming down?

Jinwoo fishes out his phone, it's 6:30 and you probably have clocked out by now.

He gets out of his domain and waited for you in the usual spot he wait in when you finish your shift.

"Jinwoo!" The sound of your voice echoes in his mind when you called out to him. "How come you're here?"

"I was bored" He lies, simply grinning. "Come."

"But I'm sweaty and icky!" You complain.

"Just for a bit, yeah?" He insists, and you in turn only pout.

"Alright, what is it?" You cross your arms.

"Free tomorrow?" He simply says.

"Well, yeah, I don't have a shift" You say. "how come?"

"I'm asking you out, duh" Jinwoo chuckles.

There was silence at first as you tried processing his words.

"Are you serious?" You blurt out, your face turning completely pink.

"Have I ever lied to you, hm?" He muses, leaning down to meet you at eye level.

"N-No, but... I mean..." You fidget, playing with your fingers. "You're an S-ranker.. And I'm... Well."

"I'm Jinwoo, jagiya" He simply says, making you look up at him.

And in those grey eyes is a tender and loving gaze, in those eyes you see that he is silently asking you to not look at him as the most sought after hunter. Not the most powerful man ever to live, not the man who turned his situation from helpless to this, not the man who was always mocked and now basks in the spotlight of fame and wealth— He was asking you to see him as a man who is courting you.

"Yes, you're..." You smile softly and leaned up with your tippy-toes, kissing his cheek gently. "My Jinwoo."

꒰ 🪼 A/N: When I tell you Ilove my monarch so much you don't understand. Jagiya can mean either= Honey or Baby heheh. I love him so much pls I wanna cri. Let me kiss him silly. And btw I'm no longer making the moodboard things because they're tiring and I don't wanna run out of photos to use! I hope u understand ueueueu!!! The Jinwoo cai requests will be up tomorrow that is a promise ꒱

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧･ﾟ: ~♡ — All stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

#∞ ₒ ˚ ° 📎— kyunnya speaks #sung jinwoo #solo leveling #sung jin woo #only i level up #solo leveling headcanons #solo leveling x reader #sung jinwoo x reader #sung jin woo x reader #sung jinwoo headcanons #ore dake level up na ken #‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡🪐༘⋆— kyunnie's writings

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potatoplace · 22 days ago

Text

this is me trying

ACOTAR x Archeron!Reader

The Afterthought: Chapter 3 | series masterlist

part 2 | part 4 | ACOTAR x reader masterlist

Story Summary: The day after your birthday is spent shopping for Solstice presents and a surprisingly pleasant conversation with one of your sisters. Winter Solstice proves to be a pleasant affair for you this year.

Warnings: self worth issues, discovering bisexuality, honestly there's not much here, it's a fairly fluffy chapter, lemme know if I missed something

Words: ~8.2k

Author's Note: here it is! It's only like... half of what I wanted to cover in this chapter, but I'm happy with what I've written. I hope you all like it! It's a bit nicer of a chapter, mainly fluff-ish with very little angst imo. (It's a lot nicer than I'd planned to be... lol) enjoooyyyy 🫶

18+ only pls

🤍🤍💝🤍🤍

You woke when the sky was still dark, the house beneath you quiet. Your body was still aching, the sharp pains having woken you from your dream of the cabin and your father.

Forcing yourself from the tub, you pulled your bedding back to its rightful place and drew a bath. The steaming hot water was the perfect remedy along with your fingers rubbing gentle circles over your lower abdomen.

The sky was just beginning to lighten when you dragged yourself from the bath and dressed, resolving to do you skincare when you returned from your mission.

Shopping for Feyre's birthday and Solstice was your one true goal for the day, and then you could hibernate for the two days before Solstice.

Your eyes roved over the stack of presents on your desk, catching on something you hadn't expected.

A plate with a piece of white chocolate raspberrry cake, a single candle sticking out of the slice. Along with it was a matchbook and a note. You tried to read it, but only got as far as deciphering who it was from- Feyre, from the signature at the bottom. Most likely an apology of some sort, but you could wait to have someone read it for you.

You turned your eyes to the cookbooks your sisters had gifted you. A sigh escaped your lips, and you walked over to look at them once more. The dessert book Elain had gifted you would be helpful for your gifting ideas- you wanted to give each couple, Mor and Azriel a box full of their favorite cookies and sweets.

Personal gifts would only be for Feyre, Mor and Azriel, seeing as it was Feyre's birthday, and Mor and Azriel had picked out more personal gifts for your own birthday. And of course Nuala and Cerridwen, you had always appreciated their willingness to share some of the cooking duties with you.

Mind settling back on the cookbook that Elain had given you, you flipped through it, attempting to identify everyone's favorites by the drawings accompanying the recipes.

Your head was starting to hurt.

A shake of your head and you closed the book, opting instead to tug on your coat and a hat, grabbing the cookbook before leaving your room, shutting the door behind you quietly.

Before you set out into the wintery city, you stopped by Nuala and Cerridwen's room, a soft knock on their door enough to have Nuala opening it.

"Could I come in?" You asked softly, trying to avoid waking those sleeping down the hall.

"Of course, Y/N," Nuala said with a smile, opening the door wider to let you slip inside, eyes catching sight of the book in your hands. "Did you need help reading a recipe?"

"Not quite, well... Yes, but I would also really appreciate if the two of you could help me find the recipes I need for Solstice presents, if you wouldn't mind?"

"Oh, I'd love to!" Cerridwen said once she had emerged from the bathroom, a towel still wrapped in her hair to dry. "Oo, a book of Solar Court desserts! I haven't seen this one before," the wraith said excitedly once she looked over the cover of the book. "Did you have anything particular in mind?"

"I was hoping we could find recipes for everyone's favorites, I'd like for all of them to have something they like. And maybe sugar cookies too, that could be decorated for Solstice."

"Ah, a challenge," Nuala smirked, a glimmer in her eyes. "Did you happen to want a little *help* making all of this?" She asked hopefully.

"If the two of you wouldn't mind, that would be lovely. But don't feel like you have to, please."

"Anything to help you out and spend a bit more time with you Y/N, it's been lonely cooking without you recently," Cerridwen reassured you, a gentle hand on your shoulder. "Now, let's get to finding those recipes, and Nuala and I will go shopping for any ingredients we'll need tomorrow if that's okay with you?"

You beamed at the twins, happy that they weren't upset at you disappearing on them for three weeks. "I would be so grateful to the two of you if you could help out. Thank you so much!"

The three of you sat down on Nuala's bed, flicking through the cookbook and marking each page that had a recipe you would need.

For Nesta, you would make thumbprint cookies with a blackberry jam- a dessert she had enjoyed since childhood, one that she had stared at hungrily for so long while your family had been impoverished. And for her mate, Cassian, you would bake lemon bars. He had absolutely devoured some at the Summer Solstice celebration this year, only leaving a few for everyone else.

Elain you would give chocolate dipped lacy cookies, her favorite treat to have with tea. Lucien would be receiving snickerdoodles, his favorite cookie and the first thing that Elain had baked for him.

Feyre absolutely adored thin lemon-ginger cookies, and with any possible morning sickness or nausea they could be a simple enough treat for her to have. For Rhys you would be making chocolate chip oatmeal cookies, made from his mother's recipe which Cerridwen had carefully tucked a copy of into the back of the cookbook for you to hold on to.

Mor would be getting lavender and pistachio macarons, snickerdoodles, and peanut butter fudge- the last you recipe you had stumbled across in the back of the book, and you knew it would be perfect for Azriel as well. For him you would be making the peanut butter fudge as well as a mint chocolate fudge, lemon bars, and peanut butter cookies. You hadn't seen him eat many sweets, but when he did they seemed to be either peanut butter, lemon, or mint, and you wanted to cover your bases.

And for everyone, and to give the three of you something to decorate, you would be making sugar cookies, hopefully in shapes resembling trees, ornaments, snowmen- really anything that would scream winter.

With the recipes picked out, the book left in the their care, and the twins' promise to gather the supplies, you set out for the Rainbow, in search of a present for Feyre.

The streets were quiet as you walked past rows of houses and apartments, the snow on the ground muffling everything.

It was easy to find the store you needed for the present you had in mind, the wood and paint scented air greeting you when you stepped inside. You glanced around, trying to familiarize yourself with the shop.

On your left was a wall of easels and canvases, the right taken up by every color of paint imaginable. You went to the left first after picking up a basket, setting nine small, square canvases inside before turning your eyes to look for rope and fasteners to connect all of them together. Your idea was for her to be able to paint one square per month of pregnancy, something to remember how she felt carrying her child.

"Did you need help finding something, love?" A female voice asked from the back of the shop, startling you out of your thoughts. You whipped around, eyes met with the sight of a beautiful fae, her skin shimmering in the light, constantly changing between the colors of the rainbow as she moved beneath it.

You managed to catch yourself from staring at her, your manners kicking in as you met her eyes- bright orange now, but you had a feeling that they would also change hue in different settings, the color shifting from a light sunrise to a burnt orange already.

"I was hoping to find some kind of rope to connect all of these, and something to fasten them to the actual canvas, if you have them," you replied shyly, your heart rate picking up as she came closer to you.

She was so pretty. You felt like you had months ago, staring at Cassian. But that was-

"I certainly do, love! They're on the other end of the shop, come with me," the fae said, her cool hand grasping yours and gently tugging you along with her. "What pattern were you wanting to put them in?"

"Uhm..." You tried to restart you brain, repeating the question in your head until you found its answer. "A three by three grid, I think."

She picked out several pieces of rope, as well as a small bag filled with pronged pieces of metal. "This should be enough of both, but if you need more you know where to find them now!" You nodded and followed her as she made her way to the counter in the back. "My name is Irina, by the way," she said as she bagged your items and wrote out a receipt.

"I'm Y/N." Just introducing yourself made your face flush, your mind replaying her name as you watched her fingers write.

"Oh, Feyre's sister?" Irina asked you, her eyes flicking up to meet yours once again. You nodded in confirmation, and she smiled. "I was wondering when I might happen across the youngest, I've already met your other sisters as well. Feyre's studio is just a few buildings down, and she comes in quite often for supplies. How has Velaris treated you so far?"

"Oh, uhm... It's a lovely city, truly. How... How much do I owe you?" You asked, trying to steer the conversation to a more pleasant topic.

"Eight gold marks, but I've already charged the account on file for you, Y/N."

You gave her a grateful smile. "Thank you, Irina. You have a beautiful shop here, I can see why Feyre comes in."

"Why thank you, Y/N! I'm very proud of it, and even more proud that our High Lady chooses my paints to use for her masterpieces," Irina sighed happily. "I hope the rest of your shopping goes well, love."

"I'm sure it will, thank you," you said with a smile before turning and slowly exiting her shop, your heart still racing from her presence.

You walked lazily through the Rainbow, eyes glossing over beautiful paintings and woven tapestries. You had nearly reached the end of it, almost in the Palace of Hoof and Leaf when you saw a stall that truly caught you eye.

Hairpins.

As children, the one purely material thing that you and Feyre had yearned for were hairpins. A woman in the village had made them by hand, delicate sticks with delicately crafted flowers attached to one end, sometimes with small gems dangling on short chains. They were far out of your price range while destitute, and you had almost entirely forgotten about your desire for one after your family had regained their fortune.

The ones from the village paled in comparison to these absolute works of art, lifelike flowers made of gems with matching petals dripping from them, secured only by small metal chains. Some had strings of pearls falling from them, others with a chain of sparkling diamonds.

You approached the stall, fingers hovering over the beautiful hairpins, but you were too afraid to touch them.

"Hello," the female behind the stall said, her silver skin shining, even shaded from the winter sun that had started shining brightly while you had been in Irina's shop. "Were you looking to buy a hairpin today?"

You smiled bashfully at her. "I might be, I'm not sure yet. They are absolutely beautiful, though."

The female beamed at you. "Thank you very much. They also double as a dagger, if needed," she said, pulling a thin sheath off of one of the hairpins, revealing a thin, sharp piece of ash wood. "They only open for the person it belongs to, so long as you place a small dot of blood on the sheath, it will appear as a simple hairpin. They're rather handy, for us females to keep around..." she trailed off.

Having something... Something to protect you could be nice, even if it wouldn't be much help in the end. But for peace of mind... And it could be nice for Feyre to have one, in case her magic is drained from her somehow...

Your eyes trailed back down to the hairpin that had drawn you to the stall.

A silver sheath with pink hydrangeas on the end, tiny flowers dripping down a short chain, tinier diamonds filling in the spaces between them. It was absolute perfection.

Another silver hairpin drew your eyes, this one with crescent moon at the end, a large sapphire hanging between its edges. Dangling from its bottom edge were two chains that met an inch down to continue as one, covered in small sapphires and glittering diamonds. Very Feyre.

"I'll take the both of these, please," you said as you lightly tapped both of them, not quite trusting yourself to hold them and not drop them.

"Ah, those are two lovely picks. May I ask who they are for?"

"The flowers are for me, the moon for my sister," you answered, watching as she carefully placed each in a velvet bag.

"What account would you like to credit it to?" She asked once she had tied off the bags, opening up the thick ledger next to her.

"Uh... Y/N Archeron, I suppose?"

"Ahh, the High Lady's human sister! If the crescent pin is for her, you chose perfectly," she said with a wink as she handed the hairpins to you.

Your nose scrunched as you smiled, "It is, and I thought so as well. Thank you so much...?"

"Opal. I'm always happy to sell my work to appreciative eyes," she said with a sparkle in her eyes.

"I may be back for another, at some point. Have a happy Solstice," you said cheerily as you left her stall, walking carefully after you spotted a patch of gleaming ice.

"The same to you, Y/N!"

The Palace of Hoof and Leaf proved perfect for finding tins for the sweets you would be baking, with an entire store dedicated to gift boxes.

Nesta and Cassian would be receiving one with a scene of the Illyrian mountains, a blazing bonfire the centerpiece, flanked by said mountains in the distance. For Elain and Lucien you picked a scene reminiscent of spring, a pond surrounded by trees with a clearing in front of it. In the clearing is a small, brown bunny, watched from bushes by a red fox. Very fitting, considering how Feyre always called Lucien a fox.

Rhys and Feyre would be getting a box decorated with the three peaks of Ramiel in the dead of night, a bright silver moon and speckles of stars lighting the sky. Perfect for the High Lord and Lady of Night.

Mor is receiving a tin with the view of Velaris at night from the House of Wind, what she had told you was her favorite view of the city.

And for Azriel, you chose one covered by a view of the sea from the cliffs of Velaris, late into a sunset.

You were satisfied with your choices, and left the Palace to cross the river and enter the Palace of Thread and Jewels.

Here, you found most everything else that you needed.

For Nuala, you got a new set of embroidery hoops as you had noticed hers were a bit worn, and truly she could never have enough seeing how many projects she had going at all times. In the same shop you picked out a variety of threads, including a selection of metal threads as she had mentioned a month or two ago that she wanted to try using them.

Before you left, you picked up a few skeins of soft yarn in jewel shades for Cerridwen, as well as a pair of knitting needles that were charmed to not lose any stitches if you accidentally dropped them.

You wandered further into the Palace, eyes grazing over beautiful gowns and spools of fabrics before they caught on something.

Red leather thigh high boots, a pair of matching gloves displayed in the same window.

That was a perfect present for Mor. You had even seen her in a pair of similar boots in black, so you knew they were her style.

And red. Her absolute favorite.

The boots and gloves were purchased quickly, tucked into a bag that you slung over you arm with the other two. You continued your journey, looking now for something for Azriel.

Quickly though, you found another present for the twins. A nice apron for both of them, one in a pale golden color with a silver moon and stars embroidered along the chest for Nuala, and a midnight blue apron, with similar silver stitching for Cerridwen. A nice apron always made you happy, and these ones seemed cute enough and close enough to each twin's typical color palette that they might wear them.

You ended up finding a nicely bound pale blue diary, almost the exact shade of Feyre's eyes.

If she was going to document her pregnancy in paint, she may as well have the option to document it in writing.

You explored the last few buildings of the Palace before giving up on a gift for Azriel from the shops it contained. You'd rarely seen him in anything but his Illyrian leathers, so you couldn't pick out a piece of clothing that you knew he would like. And he seemed to have all the gloves he would need, nearly always having a pair on hand.

The only thing you could think of...

Perfect!

You made your way back across the Sidra, through the Palace of Hoof and Leaf, and passed through the Rainbow before landing in the Palace of Flame and Steel.

You were searching for a dagger.

The Shadowsinger always had a dagger on him, if not an entire belt of them. Surely he could always use one more?

Twenty minutes spent wandering through the Palace had you shivering and slightly frustrated. Nothing seemed right for him, the hilts either entirely plain or completely encrusted in jewels.

While you were sure the plain would be just fine, you wanted something that seemed like him.

Not that you knew him very well.

You frowned as you entered a shop, its display window filled with knives, swords, and axes. Warm air rushed over you, smoothing your smile into a neutral expression as you took in the overwhelming amount of weapons inside.

An entire side of the shop was dedicated to knives and short swords, which you immediately gravitated towards.

There was some of the same fare you had seen outside, yes, but most of the knives had subtly decorated hilts, a good middle ground in your opinion.

You picked over them carefully with your eyes, trying to find one that Azriel may actually like to have. It was difficult, but you finally found one that you thought he might like. Fairly simple, a five inch blade with a black leather hilt, a small sapphire crescent moon on both ends of it. The gems matched his many siphons, and the knife came with a plain black leather sheath, a metal clip on one end so he could attach it to a belt if he wanted.

Your final purchase completed, you trudged back to the River House, taking as long as you could. You knew at this point that people would be awake and buzzing about, and you hardly wanted to speak with any of them. All you wanted was to put your Solstice presents away, make some tea in the new pot Azriel had gifted you, and eat the slice of cake that had been brought to your room some time last night.

Still, you dragged yourself back inside, shaking the snow off of your boots before you shut the door behind you. Quiet chatter was coming from the living room, but you paid it no mind as you snuck upstairs, shutting the door behind you softly.

The bags of presents were slid underneath the bed for safekeeping and to be away from any prying eyes. The only thing you kept out was your hairpin, the velvet bag soft as sin beneath your fingertips.

Should you...? Yes.

You shrugged off your hat and put it back in its spot, then your coat and replaced it on its hanger, leaving you in your dark blue wool dress and winter boots. Those were next, changed instead to your warm and fuzzy pink slippers.

Gently, you used the inside of the hairpin to prick your finger, and after replacing the sheath placed a drop of blood onto the metal, which sunk into it a moment later.

You went into the bathroom, your brand new hairpin in hand, and brushed out your hair. It took a couple of tries, but soon enough you had your hair secured in a bun, hairpin stuck through the middle. The petal chain hung down, and the sight of it in your hair made you tear up a bit.

Leaving the bathroom and going to your desk, you picked out a tea from the sampler that Azriel had gifted you, this one a strawberry green tea. You then pulled your new teapot and cups out of their box and braved the walk downstairs to the kitchen with all the items you needed for your relaxing afternoon, hopefully followed by a restful sleep.

When you entered the kitchen, it was blissfully empty, the rest of your family seemingly chatting in the living room, the buzz of which you could just barely hear.

Water was set to boil and you quickly washed the teapot and cups, a dish towel drying them just before the water began to boil. Tea leaves were poured into the strainer, hot water poured slowly and evenly over them.

It could almost be an art, you think.

"Oh, Y/N," Feyre said from behind you, just as you set the kettle back on the stove. "Could we- could I join you for tea? In your room I would guess?"

Lip between your teeth, you thought on it. As far as you could tell, Feyre hadn't wanted your birthday to turn into her pregnancy celebration. She had noticed you hadn't had cake...

"I suppose. For a cup," you replied, attempting to set a boundary with her.

Feyre nodded her head in agreement, a soft smile on her face as she watched you place two cups on a tray, the other two finding a place together in a cupboard. You waited another minute before removing the leaves, emptying the strainer and washing it. Once the pot of tea was on the tray, the two of you went up the stairs and into your room.

The tray went on your dresser, and you gestured for Feyre to take the squishy armchair in the corner of the room as you poured tea for the both of you. You passed Feyre her cup before pulling the chair at your desk over to her and sitting, your own cup of tea in hand. A cramp rippled through you, but you forced down any discomfort so that you could get this conversation out of the way.

"How are you feeling? Any morning sickness at all?" You asked Feyre, blowing on your tea after.

"A bit, but I've been having some ginger tea as soon as I wake up, and that seems to have helped." Feyre paused, taking a sip of her tea. "Mm, I like this one. Is it one that Azriel got you?" You nodded, taking your own sip. It was good. "And the tea set he got you is really pretty. I... I really didn't want for your birthday to end that way, Y/N. We tried to hide my scent but I guess something went wrong or... I don't know, but I feel so bad that we ignored you again," Feyre said tearily. "I really didn't want that to happen, I swear."

You sighed as you looked at her. You had already suspected it, but it still hurts. "I know you didn't Feyre, but it's still... It wasn't fair to me."

"I know it wasn't. I'm so sorry, I don't... I don't know how to make it up to you," she said quietly. "I... We're all going up to the cabin the day before Solstice, and staying through the night of Solstice. Did you... Did you want to come? Or you could stay here, if you'd prefer. I know last year was... Well, Nesta..."

Your mouth fell into a straight line as you thought back on last Solstice.

An absolute nightmare.

Nesta had been overly aggressive to you, still fully controlled by her rage and new mating bond. And just, overall, you had felt so out of place and unwelcome in the otherwise cozy cabin.

And on your cycle? Contained to an even smaller area?

"I'd rather not, if that's... If it's alright with you, Feyre," you said hesitantly, taking a nervous sip of tea after you finished speaking.

Feyre nodded her head in understanding. "I thought you might not, so I have one small ask: Would you be willing to have lunch with me on Solstice? I still want to see you, and spend time with you, if you'd like?"

The request was something you hadn't expected from your sister. Lunch?

"I think... I think that would be nice, Feyre. I'd like that."

Feyre's expression lightened at your acceptance, though her eyes still held unshed tears. "Really? Oh, thank you Y/N, I'm so excited to spend some one on one time with you!" Feyre said, as close to a squeal as you thought she would ever get. "And I do have a Solstice present for you too, I wanted to make sure you were celebrated then too." Feyre finished off her cup of tea and stood, placing it on the tray before standing in front of you. "Could I... Have a hug?"

A small smile played on your lips from the hesitant way she asked. You simply stood from your chair and set down your teacup before pushing yourself into her arms, savoring the warmth of her as you held each other.

"I'm looking forward to it too, Feyre. And I have a few presents for you too, so we can do a little exchange," you said once you pulled away from her. You looked at her- really looked at her. Your smile grew. "You're pregnant!"

Feyre was grinning as the tears finally fell from her eyes. "I am! I never thought- I never thought I would find a man that I would actually like enough, Y/N," she confessed through her tears.

"I know you didn't, Fey. I'm so happy you found Rhys."

The two of you embraced again, this time in joy of her expected child.

"Well, I should get back to work, I think. I've been planning an after-Solstice revel for the Hewn City as a way of breaking some of the barriers between us, but dealing with Kier..." Feyre sighed. "He's such a pain, but I don't truly have anything against the other citizens, so I'm pushing through. You're welcome to come, if you'd like?"

You instantly shook your head. "No, the one time I went I was so uncomfortable, I think I'd rather hear about any drama after, please."

Feyre's head bobbed. "I thought that might be the case. No worries there, sissy, but... You will come to Starfall, yes?"

"I'll be at Starfall, Fey, don't worry," you reassured her as the two of you made your way to your bedroom door. "Good luck with the planning, from what Mor has said about Keir he's... kind of the worst, right?"

Feyre chuckled. "He definitely is, Y/N. I'll see you later."

"See you later, Fey," you said, watching as she walked down the hallway. Your door shut softly, and you returned to your tray of tea.

One more cup, and you would do your skincare. And a bit of cake, as well.

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Two days later and the Inner Circle was departing for the winter wonderland of a cabin Rhys had, and you were in the living room seeing them off with Nuala and Cerridwen.

"Have a good time!" You said cheerily, mainly to Feyre and Mor.

"Oh, I'm sure we will," Feyre laughed, sending a mischievous look to her mate before turning back to you. "I'll see you tomorrow at noon, right?"

You nodded in agreement. "Definitely, Fey."

"Good! Have a good day here, you two take care of her, alright?" Feyre asked the twins, who nodded enthusiastically. "I'll see you tomorrow!"

She and Rhys winnowed off, taking Cassian and Nesta with them, along with their bags.

"Y/N, I had an idea, if you're up for it?" Mor asked once they had left, taking Feyre's previous spot in front of you.

"Depends on what it is, Mor."

"Well, I thought that I could come back ahead of everyone else tomorrow night, and the two of us could have a cozy little sleepover! Lots of hot cocoa, chocolate, staying up all night talking. How does that sound?"

You grinned at her, so happy to have her as a friend. "I would love that Mor!"

"Perfect! I'll most likely be back before dinner, but I will send a note if I'm going to be late." Mor's expression matched your own as she turned to leave, taking Elain, Lucien, and Azriel with her as she winnowed.

And then you were alone with the twins in the River House, much quieter than it had been all morning.

"So... Are you two fine with starting to bake now?" You asked both of them.

"That sounds perfect, Y/N!" Nuala said, clapping her hands together.

"We do have a Solstice present that we'd like to give you early, though," Cerridwen offered.

You thought back to the aprons you had gotten for the two of them. "In that case, I have one for each of you as well."

"Meet in the kitchen in five minutes?" Nuala asked.

"That sounds fine," you said, already rushing over to the stairs.

As promised, the three of you reconvened in the kitchen a few minutes later, all of you holding presents behind your backs.

You passed the two gift bags over to them, and they both handed you a small box.

They insisted that you go first, so you carefully opened the wrapping paper, then the boxes, met with your own set of pink measuring cups and spoons, their size engraved into the handles in the first box. In the second was something that looked similar to a magnifying glass, but the twins showed you its use quickly by having it hover over the recipe book Elain had gifted you.

The glass read out the title, "Decadent Desserts of the Solar Courts of Prythian," and tears filled your eyes.

"It will help you read recipes, or notes, anything really, if the two of us aren't available. We thought it would be a nice gift, seeing how your family has forgotten to teach you to read. This way, you can teach yourself," Nuala explained softly as she passed the glass back to you.

"Not that we wouldn't love to teach you, but... I don't think your feelings about that have changed yet, right?" Cerridwen asked.

You wiped the tears from your eyes as you nodded. "Yes, but this is... This is such a fantastic gift, thank you both so much." You wrapped your arms around the two of them, feeling like you were embracing sisters. "Go ahead and open your presents, I know they aren't much-"

"Oh nonsense!" Nuala interrupted you as she pulled out her apron, running her shadowy fingers over the golden fabric. "This is beautiful, Y/N!"

"I love it, oh, look! They have matching embroidery, Nuala!" Cerridwen said excitedly, running her fingers over the stitching. "These are just perfect, Y/N, thank you." It was your turn to be embraced by them, and you gladly soaked in their kind words and true enjoyment of the present you had gotten them.

"Now that we have presents done, should we get to baking?" You asked, already moving to pull out mixing bowls.

"There's no time like the present," Nuala said, and the two of them sprung into action, grabbing necessary ingredients and cookie sheets.

Baking with the two of them was a wonderful experience, as it always was, but today felt a bit different.

It felt like you were finally having the family holiday time you had craved, baking for Solstice with both of the twins.

The time flew by, and by the end of the day the three of you had made nearly everything you had wanted for tomorrow, the only sweet left unfinished was the sugar cookies. The dough for those was left in the cold box, and all of the other sweets were left on the counters overnight.

Together, the three of you made and enjoyed a hot meal, and ended the night sipping tea and eating a few of the goodies you had made earlier.

The next morning was easy, pleasant as you cut out little trees, ornaments, stockings. You all giggled over your attempts to make an Illyrian cookie, which turned out more like winged blobs.

While they were cooling, Nuala and Cerridwen made frostings in every color possible, and you packed up the tins of sweets for your family members.

Nuala helped you write out little notes of well wishes for each couple, and an extra one for Mor and Azriel stating that you had an extra Solstice present for them that you would give them in person.

And with the presents out of the way, the three of you decorated sugar cookies for the rest of the morning, the color schemes and designs getting more and more questionable as time went on.

That's how Feyre found you at noon, walking into the kitchen after winnowing back from the cabin.

"Feyre!" You exclaimed, dashing around the counter to pull her into your arms. "Happy birthday! Do you feel any older yet?"

"Thank you Y/N," Feyre giggled, squeezing you back. "Not yet, I still feel like a baby."

"Well, you are a baby still, Fey. At least compared to most of Velaris," you said cheekily, smiling when she swatted your shoulder gently.

"Yes well... This baby and my baby are hungry, are you ready to leave for lunch?"

You nodded. "Let me get my coat and boots on, and then we can go."

"Okay, I'll be here," Feyre smiled, and then her eyes locked on the cookies. "Can I have one?"

"Of course you can have one Fey, you're the birthday girl after all!" You said before you left the room, hurrying up the stairs to grab your outerwear.

By the time you returned to the kitchen, Feyre was sitting on a stool, decorating a cookie with precise strokes, turning one of the blobby cookies into something that resembled Rhys.

"That's a pretty cookie, Fey."

Feyre's head snapped up from where she had been entirely focused on her decorating. A light blush dusted her cheeks as she said, "Thank you, sissy. The girls told me you all tried to make Illyrians, and I thought they were just too cute to not do one of Rhysie."

"Well, you did a lovely job. Shall we go?"

Feyre nodded and stood from her stool, licking a small bit of frosting off of her thumb. "You made some really good cookies, Y/N. Are all of the tins filled with them?"

You shook your head. "No, they're filled with everyone's favorites, the sugar cookies were more for everyone. When you go back to the cabin, would you be able to take them with you? If not, I can give them out tomorrow."

The two of you walked to the front door, you opening it for Feyre and shutting it behind you. "I should be able to manage that just fine, sissy. Now, I was thinking we could go to Arlina's, I feel like pasta."

"Pasta sounds nice," you replied, letting Feyre lead you at a leisurely pace, locked arm in arm as the two of you took in the snow covered city.

Arlina's was a cozy little bistro only a few blocks away from the River House, tucked between some apartment buildings. You had been there once before, a few months after you had been brought to Velaris.

Once the two of you were seated across from each other in a booth, you pretended to look over the menu, but you already knew you would be getting the same thing you had last time. It had been very good, and you also wouldn't have to ask for help reading the menu...

The food was as good as you remembered, and your and Feyre's conversation stayed light, mainly focused on Feyre's duties and her hopes for her future, now that she has a little one on the way. You preferred talking about her, talking about your life right now... Would be a bit of a mood killer. And today was about Feyre.

During dessert- a delicious crème brûlée that you and Feyre shared- Feyre started to fidget.

Not much, but enough that you noticed.

"Yes, Fey?"

Feyre sighed at being caught. "You know how Starfall is coming up?" She asked.

Your narrowed your eyes in suspicion. "Yes?"

"I was hoping that you would go dress shopping with me- us," she corrected. "I want you to feel included, and it would be really nice to go dress shopping as sisters, like we were never able to."

Your first instinct was to say no, but this was Feyre. Feyre, who was sitting across from you and giving you her best puppy dog eyes.

You sighed. "Fine, but can you tell the two of them to behave again? I know that they have... Issues with me, but I would like to feel comfortable in a room with them again at some point."

"Oh, I've already told them to behave. Honestly I should have done it so long ago, it's not fair to you. From now on I'll do my best to make sure you can feel comfortable in the family again, okay?" Feyre said honestly, and you finally believed her.

"Okay. What day were you thinking about going?"

"I was thinking in two days time, I have a few meetings tomorrow, and that revel I was telling you about, so most of us will be busy then."

You nodded your head. Two days. You could prepare yourself for Nesta and Elain's inevitable scrutiny over two days. Especially with your evening plans with Mor tonight. "That sounds fine to me, Fey."

Feyre smiled at you widely before taking another bite of dessert.

🤍💝🩵💝🤍

The rest of your afternoon with Feyre flew by, your short walk back to the River House led to presents.

You had given her her gifts first, soaking in the absolute joy in her eyes when she realized that you had gotten her two gifts for her pregnancy journey, already telling you about what she wanted to paint for the first month. And the hairpin she absolutely adored, promising to wear it tomorrow night to the revel after sealing it with her own drop of blood, as you had with yours.

She had nervously handed over your own Solstice present, an apron that she had made for you. It was in a light pink, with slightly clumsily sown stitching, but you loved it so much. Something that she had made, just for you.

You had bid her goodbye after the two of you decorate a few more cookies, her arms now loaded with two bags, filled with tins of sweets.

You made Nuala and Cerridwen rest while you cleaned up, taking care to get every last bit of dough or sugar off of the counters and each dish cleaned.

After, you retired for your room for a while, a bit of light cramping having you in the bath again, soaking in the heat.

Just a few minutes after you had finished getting dressed, you heard Mor yelling something from downstairs.

With your slippers on, you exited your room and went downstairs, happy to see an excited looking Mor sitting in the living room, a couple of gift bags sitting on the coffee table in front of her.

"Happy Solstice!" The blonde said brightly, bouncing out of her seat to wrap you in her arms.

"Happy Solstice to you too, Mor," you giggled after she let you go, air returning to your lungs. "Did you want to do presents now?" You asked, gesturing to the bags on the table.

"If you'd like, or we could wait a little bit. I'm fine with either!"

"I'll go get yours, then," you said, and did exactly that, returning a few moments later, excitedly shoving a bag into her arms. "Open it!"

Mor did so, gasping when she pulled the boots out, and squealing when she saw the matching gloves. "Oh mother Y/N, these are perfect! Thank you so much!" The blonde exclaimed, pulling you into a hug. A playful look crossed her face, a smirk on her lips as she said, "Do you know what these would be perfect for?" You shook your head. "That stupid revel tomorrow! I'm already wearing this tiny little black dress, and these would look stunning with it."

"That does sound like a good time to debut them, it'll probably drive Keir up the wall," you joked.

"Yes it will," Mor sighed happily. "Now, open your gifts! Honestly I should have given them to you earlier, now that I think about it, but they'll still be useful."

Mor had given you several pairs of underwear, these specifically spelled with cycles in mind, making it so there was no noticeable scent, and also designed to come clean with no staining every time. In the same bag was a square herb filled pack, designed to be heated and kept against your skin as a way of minimizing the pain of cycles. Both were such thoughtful gifts, but you were most excited for the underwear. That meant less scathing looks from your judgmental sisters.

The second bag contained a large assortment of bath products, from bubble bath soap to deliciously scented bar soaps, to salt mixes that were supposed to help with aching muscles. She had managed to fit in a bath pillow, one that's able to get wet without being ruined, as well as a few face masks that appeared to lay over your face.

"Mor, these are such wonderful presents, thank you," you said gratefully, pulling her into a hug.

"I thought you might like them," Mor chuckled. "After all, you can never have too many self-care products in my humble opinion."

"Mhm. Humble," you giggled at her. "Did you have anything specific planned for tonight, or are we winging it?"

"Well, I thought we could do some extra skincare, I've already got an order of food in at Sevenda's- I got you curry." You nodded in approval. "And we can talk about how amazing those macarons you made were!"

You blushed under her gaze. "Nuala and Cerridwen helped..."

"Oh, it was all you, Y/N. I'm sure they helped a bit but you are such a wizard with baking!"

You almost went to deny her praise again, but thought better of it when she narrowed her eyes playfully at you.

"Skincare?"

"Skincare," Mor smiled, and let you lead her up the stairs and to your room.

The evening you spent with Mor was great, the two of you eating your takeout in your bed once it arrived, clay masks on your faces. You talked about the last couple days, Mor complaining about how the citizens of the Hewn City treat her, you opening up about how hurt you were over your sisters' gifts.

"I can't believe they forgot, though, Y/N. That's not something small, and I'm shocked that they haven't attempted to teach you yet..." Mor said disapprovingly. "I could help you, if you'd like?"

You shook your head immediately. "No, I'll be able to teach myself now, with a gift the twins got for me. It reads out the words it passes over, isn't that neat?" You asked, hoping she would understand that you'd rather not speak about the subject much.

"That was very thoughtful of them, I wish I'd thought of it!" Mor sighed. "I do hope that you feel more welcome here, now? Than a few weeks ago, I mean."

You glanced at her, seeing the emotion in her face. "I am, Mor. You've been a big part of it, I hope you know," you said softly.

"Good, I'm glad I can help. And you're just such a lovely person, it's hard not to want to spend time with you."

You blushed once more under her gaze. "Thank you, Mor."

"Any time, love."

The endearment she used had a pretty face flashing in your mind, a question on your tongue.

"Is it..." you trailed off, unsure if you wanted to ask the question.

"Is it... what?"

"Is it... normal...? To... to uhm..." you started nervously. "Is it normal to like girls...?" You asked Mor quietly, half hoping she would ignore your question.

"Like... To like girls as friends, or... To like girls like boys?" Mor asked cautiously.

"The... uhm... Boys."

Mor sighed, but not one of disapproval. You didn't think...

"Of course it's normal to like girls in that way, sweets. Maybe not for everyone, but I know that... I know that I do," Mor answered softly.

You turned your face to her, finding her cheeks pink, maybe for the first time since you had known her. "Really?"

"Yes, I've known for a couple of centuries, now. I still like boys some, but... I do find girls much more interesting." Relief flooded your heart at her words. "Can I... Ask what brought this on?"

"Oh, well... When I went shopping for Solstice presents, I met this really pretty shop owner, Irina? And I... I felt how I used to feel around... Cassian," you admitted.

"Well, Irina is very pretty," Mor said wistfully. "You have good taste," she joked as she nudged you gently with her elbow, getting you to smile.

"I do, don't I?" You giggled, feeling lighter with how accepting and calm she had been. The two of you sat in silence for a minute, before you had an idea. You looked over at Mor, a glint in your eyes. "What do you say to eating far too many cookies and passing out from so much sugar?"

Mor's eyes shined brightly in the candlelight of your room. "I say yes."

The two of you snuck downstairs, even though you didn't need to, it just felt right with the copious amounts of sugar you were about to consume.

You set to making a pot of tea while Mor grabbed a sinful amount of cookies and set them on the tray. She carried everything up to your room, you trailing behind her.

Mor had grabbed all of the sugar cookies that you and the twins had decorated all silly, including several deformed Illyrians that the three of you had attempted to make look like the three in the Inner Circle. Plus one of the ornaments that Cerridwen had written swear words on, claiming that she 'couldn't fit any other words on them.'

After a bit more talking, and all cookies eaten, Mor left your room so the both of you could change, and returned a few minutes later with hot chocolate for the both of you, a mound of whipped cream nearly overflowing from the mug.

"I'm really glad you suggested this, Mor," you said quietly once the two of you had laid down in your bed, all candles extinguished. "It's been really nice."

"I'm glad I did too, Y/N. This is a lot more fun than the bickering that I'm sure happened tonight at the cabin, that lot can never go too long in a confined space without arguing about something," Mor complained lightheartedly.

"You included, Miss Morrigan." Mor scoffed at the implication. "Tell me that you don't enjoy the drama a little, hmm?" She remained silent, and you giggled. "That's what I thought."

"Well, it's not my fault that they're so easy to bicker with..." Mor said sulkily before yawning. "Alright, I'm exhausted. Who knew eating cookies and takeout could be so tiring?"

"Not me," you said, yawning a moment after. "I guess that's our cue to try and sleep," you laughed.

"Sounds like a plan to me," Mor said quietly, her breathing evening out a bit as she tried to sleep.

You tried to do the same, but it took a while, with the now unfamiliar noise of someone sleeping near you. But soon enough, you had drifted off into a peaceful sleep, cushioned comfortably for the first time in months.

🤍💝❤️💝🤍

General Taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff @lilah-asteria @meritxellao

Series Taglist: @darkbloodsly @angelbunny222 @uniquedreamsblog @romantasyreader28 @that-one-bibliophole @idkmyoldonewasembarassing @deathtopistachios @saltedcoffeescotch @sleepylunarwolf @babypeapoddd @kingshitonly @bravo-delta-eccho @bluebries81 @liahaslosthermind @deepestmentalitypersona @historygeekqueen @hermajestysworld @marina468 @esposamultifandom @astrokitty18 @larissa01-blog2 @acourtofbatboydreams @angel-graces-world-of-chaos @thelov3lybookworm @weekendlusting @dxjaaaa @thejediprincess56 @casiiopea2

#the afterthought #this is me trying #acotar x reader #acotar x you #toxic inner circle #morrigan #feyre archeron #angst #fluff #winter solstice #feyre #acotar fic #acotar #archeron!reader #acotar fanfic #acotar x reader fluff #acotar x reader angst #acotar x reader series #tato writes

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redcoralpot · 1 year ago

Text

Tougher Than Nails - Mike Schmidt X M!Reader

Warnings/Details: NSFW content, implied substance abuse, alcohol, cowboy!reader, hankie/cowboy hat code.

Summary: Mike goes to a bar downtown in hopes of getting his mind off of court, but instead finds something much healthier.

A/N: Everyone should thank my boyfriend for this idea; he's always the one that reminds me that I am technically a 'cowboy'. He saves a horse very often.

Word Count: 1.8K

Bars weren’t really Mike’s thing. Any alcohol he’s ever had tasted like crap, and becoming an alcoholic would just be another check on Aunt Jane’s list to prove to the court that he wasn’t suitable for custody. Hell, he swore her perfume was still clinging onto his nose hairs, and all he wanted to do was escape her. Escape reality, too. Mike remembered when his father used to do just that after Garret disappeared, drowning himself in the bitter liquid at night, his speech slurred. That’s why he was here, at a bar in downtown Afton, while Maxine stayed with Abby. He was desperate.

The building was crowded, delightful chatter and jazz music filling the air. Lights were strung along the wooden walls, narrowly dodging the black and white photos hanging by themselves. More customers squeezed in behind him; Mike frantically searched for any open spot in the room. Hallelujah– a single stool was left vacant near the serving counter, and Mike shuffled into it, shoulders tense. The bartender seemed to notice his presence, as she leaned towards the man, still shaking another person’s drink.

“You’re a new face,” she rattled, “may I see your license?”

Mike fumbled with his wallet, sliding the card for her to see, “Uh, sure.”

“Right, you’re all clear; would you like to open a tab?”

A man cut in before he could answer, and for the first time, Mike got a good look at the person sitting beside him, “Just add whatever he orders to mine, Molly.”

She shrugged, the key hanging from her left pocket jingling, “Easier for me.”

You chuckled, the brim of your hat covering your eyes. It was decorated with embroidery and leather, complimenting your purple button up shirt, though that was partially hidden by a black vest. Two hankies hung out of your back, left pocket, similar to Molly’s keychain. One was rust colored, but the other was a complimentary gray; Mike thought it was an interesting stylistic choice.

“I’ll just have a beer, thanks.”

As the bartender turned, scribbling in a notebook, you inquired, “So, what’s a fine boy like you doing ‘round these parts?”

Mike grabbed the foaming beer that was placed in front of him, “I live nearby.”

“That’s not the only reason, is it?”

He hesitated to answer, instead choosing to take a long sip of the beverage. It burned down his throat, the flavor making his lips curl and his head a little more dizzy. Somehow, it loosened his will, and he found his lips moving without his permission. Your energy was just hypnotizing; he felt himself being pulled in.

“Needed a break from stress,” Mike admitted, picking at the glass’ label.

You cocked your head to the side, your hat tipping upward, “Just ‘cause you’re in a hole, doesn’t mean you gotta keep digging. Alcohol isn’t the cure to what you’re feelin’.”

“What am I supposed to do? Not even my medicine works anymore.”

“I go here for stress relief too,” you assured, downing a shot, “but not necessarily for the drinks.”

Your hand hovered over the small of his back, looking at him for consent. When he didn’t move away, you settled your fingers there, feeling a shiver run through Mike’s body. Some of the previous tension released from his shoulders, and he almost leaned back in relief. Many of the customers in this bar were paired with the same sex, unlike most of the movies he’d seen that included the subject. So, he supposed it wouldn’t look too weird if he did.

You elaborated, “People can be cruel, can’t they, sweetheart? Comin’ to a place like this, where everyone’s like me in some way or another, is a damn good bonus.”

“Like you?”

“Y’know,” you gestured to your handkerchiefs, “queer and such.”

He paused, “Ah.”

“You didn’t know this was a boy bar?”

Mike replied, “I kinda just looked up the closest bar to my house.”

…

“Good to know.” Your hand fell away from his back.

He almost chased it. Mike liked the feeling, the weight of your fingers pressing into such an intimate spot. However, he wasn’t tipsy enough for that, and controlled himself. He watched as you spoke to Molly, the lady’s eyes flicking towards him and back, and you slipped her the money needed to cover the tab. You tipped your hat towards Mike, a respectful way to put distance between you, before disappearing into the suffocating crowd. Molly side eyed him, sweeping away his bottle, before leaving as well. Mike swallowed, pulling loose skin from his bottom lip with his teeth. It was now, or never– perhaps alcohol wasn’t the only way, after all. You were right.

Mike could still see the very top of your hat swerving above the crowd, and he trailed after it to the best of his ability. A random girl almost elbowed him in the face, and he was sure his shins would be bruised after tonight. Your shadow was reflecting in the glass door, growing fainter and fainter as you walked further away, your hips swaying. Mike pushed it open, the vision dissolving, and cold air stung his cheeks. The moon reflected off of car hoods, the only way he was able to see where he was running. His hand reached out and grabbed your arm, as you flinched.

Mike’s ears were red, probably from the alcohol, and you stared at him, “What’re you doing?”

“I don’t know,” was the only answer you got before your collar was jerked forward.

Your lips crashed violently with his; your teeth clicking as he struggled to pull you closer. Mike was still fisting your shirt as you brought your hands to cup his jaw and the back of his neck, trying to gentle the kiss.

You mumbled against his mouth, “Better not be some experiment of yours, pretty boy.”

“Nope,” he whispered, the aftertaste of whiskey on his tongue.

His back hit the side of your car, and his hands moved from your collar to swinging his arms around your neck. Your knee found its way in between Mike’s thighs, pressing against his crotch, and his groan was swallowed by your lips. Mike whined when you trailed down, aiming instead for his neck. Dark marks and bites soon decorated the pale flesh, his blood dripping a contrasting splash of color.

Tugging on his earlobe, you challenged, “Gonna come back to my place?”

Mike doubted he ever agreed to something so quickly.

The drive was long, too long in his opinion. Though, it was most likely only fifteen minutes, at most. Mike didn’t even have to walk up the driveway to your cabin; his legs were locked around your hips as you carried him through the door and up the stairs. He ground his groin against you, searching for any possible friction. You tossed him onto your bed, unbuckling your belt, holding it taut. The man in front of you wiggled back and spread his legs to make room for you. You snickered at how willing Mike was, considering his hesitation when you first met.

You regularly kept lube on the bedside table, just to be prepared for when you brought men home from the bar. However, this one was different in a way you had trouble putting into words, other than positive. His thighs shook as you massaged the liquid into his hole, a hand covering his mouth to prevent you from hearing his noises. Ah, now that wouldn’t do, would it?

In response, you tugged his hand off of his mouth, “Lemme hear you.”

Such pretty sounds from a pretty mouth, it was truly a shame. When Mike immediately went back to covering them up, you slid your fingers out of him, instead reaching for your abandoned belt. His eyes trailed after your hands as they bound his wrists together in front of him, almost akin to handcuffs. Mike couldn’t see much of your expression after your head dipped down, only the shit-eating grin playing on your lips. Of course, that was before you took your hat off by the crown and placed it firmly on his head, though it was a tad too big for him.

“Why don’t you keep that safe for me, sweetheart?”

For a second, Mike was confused. Keep it safe? Just what were you planning on doing? He felt a grip on his waist, right before his world spun around him, and the positions were practically reversed. The guard was now sitting on top of you, or more so your crotch, his thighs caging in your hips. Mike’s hair was disheveled and the light on the ceiling created a sort of halo around him, and fuck, did you think he was pretty. Only a few select people had ever gotten to wear your hat, and you could confidently say that he was the most beautiful in it.

You unbuttoned your jeans, letting your cock slip through the opening, “You ready?”

“I’ve never done this before.”

You had a grip on his waist again, slowly guiding him down. You didn’t thrust, didn’t force him to go fast, and allowed him his proper time to adjust, “How’s that feelin’?”

“G-good,” he shuddered, precum leaking from his tip, “think ‘m ready.”

“You haven’t seen the brunt of it yet, boy!” You grunt, thrusting the rest of you inside, brushing against Mike’s prostate.

The man on top of you moaned, and the sound was so uncharacteristically loud that even he seemed surprised by it. Mike leaned down, resting his tied fists on your chest in order to keep his balance. His sweat dampened your collarbones, his drool smearing on your neck, and the pathetic excuse of a guard tried leaving kisses over the areas he could reach. You soon found a rhythm to your thrusts; groans were punched out of your throat on their own.

Mike could feel heat rushing through his brain, bringing tears that stuck to his eyelashes, covering any thoughts or hesitance he may have had before. That wasn’t enough for it– it spread like wildfire down his body, down to where your fingers were leaving bruises, and down to his red, leaking dick. Something deep was brewing inside of him, nothing he’s felt since his hormonal teenage years. Hell, he didn’t even have time to process it when you kissed his cheek, whispering in his ear that he’s such a needy slut; it exploded.

When he finally came to, he could feel his thighs twitching and your heaving, sticky abs below him. His eyelids felt heavy, and all he wanted to do was stay there with you. You were rubbing circles into his back, attempting to pull out, but a grumble from Mike made you stop. In fact, you were saying things, but it sounded muffled and far away. He took great comfort in your voice, no matter what you were talking about. It was getting farther and farther away, yet still managed to follow him into his dreams. For the first time since the incident with Garret, he did not have a nightmare.

Taglist: @cannabrisano @kai_beanz @fandomz-brainrot @slimemakermas

#x male reader #male reader #lgbtq #male y/n #gay #cowboy reader #fnaf #fnaf movie #five nights at freddys #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x male reader #x top male reader #top male reader #x dom male reader #dom male reader #bottom character

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lexirosewrites · 8 days ago

Note

I was bored so I wrote another one :)

They’ve defeated the UD and everyone came out of it okay. A!Eddie has to use a cane some days and O!Steve gets migraines but otherwise they’re fine. Steve helps everyone through their recovery but especially Eddie. This results in them spending a lot of time together and getting closer. Eddie would wish nothing more than to court the shit out of Steve. He’s kind and cute and perfect and adorable and… you get the point. But after about two weeks of Eddie laying in a hospital bed Steve actually told him why him and A!Nancy broke up and how he’s been a little hesitant to get into anything real since then, he just doesn’t want to get his heart broken like that again.

Once Eddie learns this he has to stop himself from growling every time he sees Nancy (it has only happened twice so far, contrary to popular belief he can actually behave thank you very much). He also realises that if he wants to court Steve he might have to do the dating version of gentle parenting. So. They take things slow. Really slow. Eddie basically just gets to know Steve like a good friend.

Suddenly nine months have passed, Christmas is over and they’re getting ready to celebrate New Years at the new Byers-Hopper house. Everyone is there and they’re all celebrating that the UD is gone and that they’ll all (hopefully) get a normal year for once. Midnight is getting closer and so is Steve and Eddie.

While they’re eating dinner they sit next to each other. Bumping shoulders while they clean up. Holding pinkies while they sit on the sofa and Joyce put “1987!” hats on them. Eddie with an arm around Steve’s waist while they’re talking to Robin. Whispering and giggling at each other's jokes.

Then it’s time to count down until midnight and they’re standing at the back of the room (Eddie still has his arm around Steve’s waist). It’s 10 seconds til the new year when Steve looks at Eddie and says

“Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

Cheering starts up around them.

“Happy New Year” and Steve kisses Eddie for the first time while their family celebrates around them. When they pull back both of them are blushing. Eddie is a bit shell shocked but once he gets his wits about him he pulls Steve in for another much longer kiss.

Maybe 1987 will be their year

soft slow loving steddie makes me mushy🥺

#slick sunday #steddie #steddie omegaverse #omega steve harrington #alpha eddie munson #steve x eddie #a/b/o #omegaverse #my asks

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selineram3421 · 9 months ago

Text

*sleepy*

Courting Pursuit

Part 2

Part 1

Alastor X Deer Reader

Warnings ⚠

⚠ gender neutral (gn) reader, mule deer reader, assuming Alastor is a marsh deer, Spanish translated, stalking-Vox, cussing, implied/suggestive, italics=thoughts, ha..watch out for the end ⚠

You continued to act affectionate towards him.

Even the others noticed and most of them would often ask you to do their work if it was related to him.

Niffty doesn't care and does her work as usual.

The thing is, you don't mind one bit and take up the work.

"Hola Alastor.", you'd greet him every time.

Today you were helping someone else, Husk to be exact, putting away some bottles in storage.

And then he heard that obnoxious voice of the sad excuse of an entertainment performer through his radio next to the television shop, Vox.

"Top of the hour! Today I have a special little treat for you, though the image is sadly glitched out, you can still see what is going on in the photo.", he says. "It's the Radio Demon, receiving an affectionate peck on the forehead from another deer!"

What a creeper. Alastor rolled his eyes and waited for the perfect moment to jump in and make the flat headed piece of tech look like a complete fool.

"From the looks of things, Alastor has a fuck buddy.", the TV demon grinned. "Wouldn't be surprised if he was taking it from behind.", he laughed and continued to rant on about innuendos like an idiot.

Turning a few knobs and flipping some switches, the Radio Demon was live.

"Salutations!", he greeted his listeners. "What an interesting start to the day! An overly cocky man acting like a news anchor when he doesn't have all the facts!", his smile widens. "For a demon asking his viewers to trust him, it's quite bold that he so blatantly lies to their faces."

"That's bullshit! I only provide the best-"

"Vox is so insecure and craving for attention from a powerful Overlord like myself, it's obvious that he's jealous.", Alastor laughed.

"Am fucking not you old timey prick-!"

"Why would he make such an announcement if not for that? Its clear to me that he wants someone to focus on him all the time.", he chuckles. "No wonder he always something new on his screens. But they lack so much that he has to resort to childish news broadcasts to seem important."

"Childish!?"

"As for the demon in the photo, that is a hotel guest and they do not understand English that much. There was a misunderstanding in translation and well..I'm not allowed to kill hotel guests.", then his voice switches. "This does not mean that I will let such an action pass, I will do something mμc# ￦θrs€ than death."

"You lying piece of shit! Tell me them the truth!"

"I should announce that the Hazbin Hotel has its doors open for all sinners who want a shot at redemption! Try to climb your way out of this fiery inferno, some might try to drag you back down, or you'll have trouble all on your own trying to redeem yourself! Anything is possible!", he put in his two bits for advertising the hotel. "And with that my wonderful listeners, I shall bid you all adieu~"

He switched on some jazz, not wanting to hear anymore of Vox's whining.

Something still irked him however..

Perhaps I should pay Rosie another visit. He thought. This time without them knowing.

As soon as he walked through the door of the emporium, his friend waved him over and pointed to her office, letting him know that she'd be there soon.

Once entering the office, he sighed and sat on the couch, already tired of what else would happen later in the day. He didn't want any other unnecessary conversations.

Rosie entered the office not too long after, setting her hat aside as she closed the door.

"You won't believe the gossip I've stumbled across today. Betty, the one with the pooch, not the one with the scar. She-", the woman started but then took notice of his mood. "What's wrong? You look worn out already."

"I don't know what to do with them. Vox, that piece of shit tech, has already made comments but I already put him in his place.", he sighed and ran a hand down his face.

"I heard.", Rosie let out a short laugh.

"The deer is still doing things, not as bold as the first time but I don't want them near me. It's-", he growled and made a choking motion with his hands.

"If it's bothering you that much, you know you can tell them to stop.", she says.

He looks up at her with a wide eyed stare.

She dead pans.

"Alastor. You know you can tell them to stop. Right?"

"The thought hadn't crossed my mind.", he simply says.

"Oh for crying out loud-!", she tosses a pillow at him. "You are unbelievable! Go and speak your mind! You've never had a problem with it before!"

She was right. Why had he been so bothered about something like this?

He should have spoken up about it from the start.

It was late when he returned to the hotel. The lobby was empty and he could only assume that everyone had long been asleep. Walking to the dining room, he spots the kitchen light on.

Angel is probably making an abomination of a hangover cure- He thought and opened the door, only to find the mule deer leaning against the counter half asleep.

You perk up when noticing him.

"Bienvenido. Hice la cena y te guardé un plato.", you wave and smile. (Welcome back. I made dinner and saved you a plate.)

"What are you doing up at this hour? Granted, it is Hell and there are barely any rules around here, sleep is still important.", he says as you pick up a plate covered with tin foil.

Taking off the foil, you give him a plate of food.

Your fingers brush against his, making him flinch back and drop the plate, causing it to shatter on the floor with a loud crash.

Instead of focusing on the mess, you looked at him with worry.

"¿Estás bien? No estás herido, ¿verdad-?", you reach out to him but he smacks your hand away. (Are you alright? You're not hurt, are you-?)

"Don't touch me.", he hisses out. "I am not comfortable with your advances, so I advise you to stop NOW before I tear you apart and make you into tomorrow's dinner."

With that you took a step back.

"No quería incomodarte. Me detendré. Perdóname por no tener en cuenta tus sentimientos.", you muttered and looked away. (I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. I will stop. Forgive me for not taking your feelings into account.)

Alastor didn't bother trying to translate your response in his head, just walking around you and to the door.

"Lo siento.." (I'm sorry..)

He heard you whisper as he walked out of the kitchen, leaving you alone.

With a sigh, you kneeled down and began to clean the mess.

Sad times means cookies.

~Seline, the person.

Part 3

Taglist@

@c4rved-pumpk1n @scary-noodlesblog @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @lbcreations-blog @ducky-died-inside @kiraisastay @pooplyface1423 @line-viper @117s-girl @spiderlegsling @alastorsgoldie @repentant-repeller @kcsketches @lofasofabread @kotaleee @im-coolrat @superzombiewho @speckle-meow-meow @jammcookie @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @trashbin-nie @koioli @fatherlesschild2 @mmik3yy @just-here-reading @nealeart @hudiexiaoying @crystal-multiplefandomlover @glowinggoldfish0 @tiredgamerhere @fluffy-koalala @valenfawkes @willowshadenox @aria-tempest @alastor-simp @nonetheartist @gallantys @i-3at-kidz @luxky-aish @ceafighter @xalygatorx @xangel-8 @sleep-7372 @wat4r @lustylita @xdolls-crownx @lonelysimp18 @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @dap11 @al1fers-haven @futureittomainn @random-3455 @+?

ML II Alastor🎙 | CP ChL🦌

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inlovewithregencyera · 9 months ago

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My Fair Lady: Late Baroque Era Set

(no fancy thumbnail this time, sorry) ♫ < baroque music

Please READ ALL OF THIS before downloading. I will not answer an ask if it was answered here. Read.

This is a late 17th-century/early 18th-century Baroque Set. You will get 25 items for women, girls, and toddlers! Towards the bottom, I will give you tips to start a Baroque Era Save (people to find on gallery and men/boy attire).

I would like to thank @the-melancholy-maiden @linzlu @sychik @batsfromwesteros @vintagesimstress @cringeborg @acanthus-sims @stereo-91 and sims 2 creator maya40 for the stuff I've used to make all of this. I'm sure there are more creators but I cannot recall their names off the top of my head. DM me if you see a piece of your mesh here so I can give proper credit. I would also like to thank @belleophile for testing these items for me.

The stuff in this set can work for the late 1660s-early 1710s.

WHAT YOU GET: You will get 3 hat hairs, 1 for each age I listed above, 2 Fontanges for adults that work with the hat slider mod, 4 adult hairs, an adult baroque hair comb piece, 1 adult baroque sash accessory used for court and portraits, 1 ribbon hair piece to go with a hair, and 13 dresses (2 1670s/1660s mantuas, 1 1680s-1710s Habit used for Hunting or Riding, 1 1690s-1710s court dress used for court occasions, 1 1690s-1710s jeweled portrait dress and 1 1660s-1670s portrait dress with sash, and finally 7 1690s-1710s mantuas used for everyday, formal, and seasonal wear. I've included 1 dress for a child and 1 dress for a toddler as well).

SMALL NOTICE ABOUT THE PIECES: The hairline on the hairs will not behave correctly if you have head shape presets on the sim. I've tried fixing that but no luck. If I manage to fix it, I will update it. The Hat Hairs are found in the HAT category and are not compatible with hairs you MUST download the hair files that I'll be including with them. This being said, if you remove sim clothing while they have the hat hair on, it removes the hair override too. It's strange, but just put the hat back on and it should fix. The comb, and ribbon accessory are also found in the hat category. The Sash is found in the GLASSES category. The 1660s-1670s Mantuas are not compatible with shoes, leggings, or socks. I've removed these options in CAS tools so you shouldn't have to worry about clipping. The Barbara 1670s Dress has a sash meshed onto it, and because of this does not behave well with bigger bodies. The same applies to the Henrietta 1670s Dress, as the pearls don't behave with bigger bodies. Same with the Sarah 1670s Dress jewels. The 1690s-1710s Mantuas will have small gaps if the sim is plus-sized. I have tried to fix these issues, but no luck. The hat hair fontange looks a bit gray without reshade or a lighting mod. @northernsiberiawinds has some good lighting mods. Other than that, it's fine. Below, is how it will look white with a lighting mod.

Everything has AT LEAST 20 swatches. Some things have more. There are only a few things that don't have this many swatches.

Here are some pics up close of what you are getting.

Here are some pics/fashion plates from this era.

Did I forget the 1680s mantua..? Oh no! Luckily, I've included this surprise 1680s dress you'll be getting as well for reading all of that. So 26 items! (here you can see hat hair fontange without lighting mods installed)

BAROQUE SAVE TIPS: These dresses will work for winter, summer, and traveling wear. Just add a fichu for summer wear or a shawl. For winter wear just add some long gloves and a cape. For men's stuff from this era, @stereo-91 has recolored some acanthus outfits which can be found here. I'll show you how they look below. I also recommend going to his gallery (ROTAMETERS91) as he has AMAZING builds for this era. For a little boy, @acanthus-sims has some stuff that can work.

DOWNLOAD

#baroque ts4 #baroque sims 4 #sims 4 baroque #sims 4 decades #my cc #historical cc #ts4 cc #historical sims 4 #sims 4 historical #historical sims #sims 4 cc #the sims cc

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surielstea · 7 months ago

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Give ‘em a show

Based on this request.

Pairing: High Lord!Eris x High Lady!Reader

Summary: The autumn court celebrates the equinox with a great rite of their own, what happens when the High Lord finds out Reader left the Forest House in search for him?

A/N: Sorry this took me forever, but I’m really happy with how it turned out so I hope you guys enjoy! 🧡🧡

6.2k words

It was the most festive day of the year in autumn, the equinox. When both night and day are perfectly divided and everything feels at peace. We called it Mabon. The peak of nature's abundance.

The holiday usually entailed freshly harvested crops and feasts to satisfy an entire continent. People gathered to the crop fields and pray, whether it be for good fortune or the wealth of the earth it didn't matter. They honored the soil beneath their feet as much as any other living thing. Similar to Calanmai in the spring there are bonfires in every direction, dancing surrounding the pits.

This was also the day high Fae reinforced the wards around their homes, seeing it as a new beginning.

Some prefer to stay at home and pray to the gods of fire, knelt by the flames that warmed them, having a simple meal of bread and grain. I, however, did not. During the day I'd plant fresh herbs and seeds, placing them in the richest of soils then saying a soft prayer until they began to grow. My harvesting powers have always been my favorite, being able to merely look at a seed and turn it into a blooming flower in the blink of an eye would forever be my favorite party trick.

During the night of Mabon however, I indulged myself in the finest of whiskeys and got drunk as all hel, claiming it was a tradition and a night of commemoration.

"All done?" Eris asked as I came back into the Forest House, my knees covered in dirt from kneeling in the gardens.

"All done." I gave him a small smile and he mirrored it while taking my wide-brimmed sun hat from my head.

"As cute as you look, you need to go change." He hands me the hat and I blink up at him confused. "Or have you forgotten your duties as High Lady?" He arched a manicured brow and I rolled my eyes.

My traditions would be different this year. It was Eris' first year as High Lord, meaning he'd have to put on a show to make sure everyone knew just how powerful he was. Whatever that meant. This also means my job was no longer getting drunk off my face but rather waiting alone in our bedroom where we'd consummate in order to release the power of the High Lord and grace the land with it, allowing harvests and crops to grow until the next Mabon.

"High Lady or not, I'd like to spend my night in a pub with my friends, not some stuffy room with your advisors." I scowl and a smirk tugs at his lips as I drape my hands around his neck.

"A lady of her people." He hums and my grin widens.

"Does that mean you'll let me have my holiday?" I bat my lashes at him.

"I can't," He sighs.

"Eris," I whine. "You're high lord now, fuck me in front of the rest of them for all I care just let me enjoy myself." I plead and he gives me a sorrowful gaze.

"It'll only be a few hours, you'll survive." He placed his hands on my waist and I narrowed my eyes at him.

"But what if you find some other girl on your way to me? I don't like the idea of you roaming this court half naked for just anyone to see, Eris," I dramatically fall into his chest, he tightens his hold on me as if I'm actually going to fall.

"Trust me, all I'll want is you," He guides me back upright so I can stand on my own. "Now go get dressed." His hold on me loosens and I give him the nastiest scowl I can muster.

"Fine, but only because I love you." I excuse as I place the floppy hat atop his head, I think the pink bow brought out his eyes.

"Love you too," He smiles sloppily as I leave his hold, the sun hat remaining on his head as I move away from him, his hand coming down to pat me on the ass, as if encouraging a faster rate, making me toss a glare back at him.

In between now and the beginning of Mabon's night festivities I passed the late afternoon stuck in a meeting room, which was as boring as I thought it was going to be. I spent the entire time drawing the high lord in front of me, making sure to match the glint in his golden eyes to his crown, pure regality as he sat in front of Advisors that used to be in his father's corner.

It's been past an hour, the sun reaching the horizon had told me so, I could already smell the scent of smoke from the bonfires and I knew my time was being wasted. "My lady, are you listening?" I snap to attention, clutching my sketchbook from beneath the table and looking at the male who had snapped his fingers at me, earning a low grumble from Eris as a warning.

"Yes," I answer on instinct.

"Really?" Eris leans forward, muscular forearms resting against the wooden table.

"Mhm." I nod with slightly tinged cheeks, I could never lie to Eris, something about the mating bond, or rather just him, in general, had me somehow giving myself away.

"You wouldn't lie to me, would you Fawn?" He narrows his gaze on me and it takes everything in my power to not give in, tell him that every word since greetings has gone in one ear and out the other. All this information was useless anyway, old rules that Beron followed. Not Eris. I don't understand why my mate entertained these old males.

"You know what?" A bright grin spreads over my features as I stand, my chair pushing back against the floor as everyone looks up at me.

"All of you may take an early holiday, enjoy the night, and spend time with your families." I dismiss and they blink up at me.

"Really?" One of them babbles.

"Yeah, really?" The high lord glared at me and my grin widened.

"Really." I nod.

"With all due respect, you're not one to be giving orders around here." The eldest of them scoffed and my smile faltered, I had never expected to hear that in my own court.

"She's your high lady and you will do as she says. Now go before I change my mind." He shoos the male away. Eris may not have liked me cutting the meeting short but he wasn't going to tolerate any discourtesy against me, it may have been wrong to use it to my advantage but all I wanted to do at the moment was curl up by the fire with a freshly poured glass of wine. Second best to getting hammered at the pubs like I would've been doing this time last year.

"You heard him, go." I make hands that send them away and they all scramble off, shuffling out the door with a haste I haven't seen in a while. I smile softly as the last male disappears.

"You are a cruel female." Eris leans back into his seat at the head of the table. I grab my sketchbook and walk down the long stretch of the meeting hall until I'm right beside him.

"Cruel? Or smart?" I tilt my head as I hoist myself up onto the table in front of him.

"Show me what you were drawing that entire time." He places a ringed finger on the top of my pencil and I flip to the page of his half-shaded figure, flipping around to show the male his unfinished portrait. A satisfied grin spreads over his lips as he sees that he is the subject, but he shouldn't be surprised because he is always the subject.

"Is this whole book me?" He flicks through the pages and I pull back before he can see all the drawings of him I sketched from memory on a particularly desperate night when he was gone on a mission.

"Don't be so full of yourself, I wasn't going to draw any of those old males." I roll my eyes and he chuckles. "Plus I was listening, I could draw you with my eyes closed," I confess and he raises a brow, his lopsided smirk making me feel warm inside. "Now can you please just get this celebration over with then come back to me?" I place the sketchbook beside me and look back at him.

"And what will you do while I'm gone?" He places his hands on my hips, a soft look in his eyes.

"Lots of drinking." I shrug, taking hold of his crown and making it crooked atop his head.

"You're quite the drunk." He grumbles and I chuckle.

"I'm a tavern keeper's daughter, what more do you expect?" I grin innocently and he shakes his head in disbelief.

"Alright, come with me," He slips his hand into mine and guides me out of the meeting room.

I intertwine our fingers, occasionally bumping into him, the comparison of his steady figure, walking with only solid steps and articulated movements contrasted to my bounding, my arm brushing his with every step. It was a silent kind of intimacy, our dynamic.

"This my cell for the night?" I ask as we stop in front of our bedroom, a grand suite that seems more like an apartment.

"Don't act like I'm locking you up," He sighs, crossing his arms.

"You're right, I could easily sneak out," I taunt and he narrows his eyes on me.

"I'm not going to put guards outside these doors, however, if I learn that you've left I will find you," He says, his tone shifting from playful to menacing all in one sentence. "And depending on where you are, I might just fuck you in front of all of them," His words sink to my core, it wasn't much of a warning if it was my idea to begin with.

"Don't threaten me with a good time," I smirk up at him, mirroring his.

"I'll be back for you, soon," He promises, free hand coming to my jaw, the other still preoccupied with mine. His thumb rubbed over my jaw, pressing with a pressure that told me he didn't want to see this room empty when he returned.

"I'll be waiting," I sigh, leaning into his hand. He frowns.

"I'm sorry Fawn, but I doubt I'll be able to control myself with you so near," He shifts back to his usual self, the compassionate one.

"I understand, it's okay," I mumble, even if this was the last place I wanted to be during the holidays. He leans down and presses a yearning kiss onto my lips, the kind full of promise of what was to come later tonight.

He pulls away with a reluctance I immediately recognized. Whatever power that was going to consume him tonight was already forming, I could feel it through the bond like someone on his side of the tether was sparking embers.

"Don't leave this room." He warned one last time and all I could do was nod and then watch him leave.

I had never wanted to leave a room more in my entire life.

Eris forgot to put his shields up on his side of the bond and it was driving me fucking mad. I could feel the power of him, flowing through the very floorboards beneath my feet. His arousal was immense, or perhaps it was mine— I wasn't sure. Maybe being High Lady had its own effects, maybe it made the mated female just as willing to consummate with the High Lord. The intense heat running up and down my spine reminded me of when Eris and I had accepted the mating bond, The Frenzy that took over both of us full throttle, I had managed that because he had been so near at the time, it had only lasted a few moments before he was touching where I needed him most but this, with him so far, gods this was unbearable.

I looked out the window like an animal eagerly waiting for their owner to return, but I couldn't see anything beyond the maple trees, only the smoke of the bonfires and all that promised with it.

I leaned my forehead against the cold window, it relieved me for only a split second before the heat of my body returned.

It started less than an hour ago, bloomed right at my core, and has only grown since. It would reach my head soon and I don't know what I'd do at that point. I had already put the fire in the hearth out but it felt as if I was the furnace and embers were still popping against my bare skin that mistook me for kindling.

I had practically stripped to my socks, but even my undergarments had been too much to bear. I wore a silk slip with a lace trim that was lighter than a feather and softer than anything I had ever felt before but on my burning skin, it felt like a winter coat.

If the window was cold then outside must've been colder, autumn air sweeping over the continent and beckoning at my very window, who was I to keep it out?

I pushed the window open with a grunt in agony, the sweet feeling of the light breeze kissing against my skin practically made me crumble in relief.

I latch the window all the way open and lean my head out the sill, the sound of music and cheering in the distance suddenly became so prominent but it was hard to hear anything over the blood rushing to my ears, dizziness consuming me as I grip the ledge of the window, something buried deep inside of me yearned for him in the direction of the music, and now that my head was out the window my body seemed to think I was teasing it, what it wanted so much closer now that the line to the outside world was crossed, the feeling so intense I thought I might start coughing up blood.

I grunt, attempting to talk myself through the pain, telling myself repeatedly that I've endured worse, that I was stronger this, that Eris would be back any moment now and— and oh gods, Eris. It was a mistake to let him cross my mind because all of a sudden he consumed every thought I could conjure, my mind in his hands and he was gripping it, not willing to let go.

I decided I didn't give a fuck if Eris was mad if I left the house, the pain I was enduring was horrific and the only way to relieve it was to disobey exactly what he ordered me to do. Don't leave this room. I slipped out the window with gasps of pain, landing on the soft grass. I was just grateful to be located on the first floor, close enough to the ground to jump from without shattering the bones in my legs.

Hounds rush up towards me before I can even take my first step.

They looked as if they were about to bark, to alert their owner that I had left the house but they saw my desperation, hel, they probably smelt it.

Rivin, the eldest of the shadow hounds rushed up to me first, staring up at me with a cock of his head, clearly concerned for my well-being. "Can you take me to Eris?" I murmur, praying the dog can understand me, I bring my hand to his snout and he chuffs, licks the palm of my hand then takes off running towards the sounds of the music.

I tried to stay as close as I could to the dog, he had taken the route through trees and behind stands, which I was grateful for since it kept me out of sight, however, it made it a lot easier to lose him amongst the trees. But he always came trotting back after a minute without him in my sights.

Eventually, the dog stopped in his tracks, his front paws prancing at the floor and communicating that he had finished his job. I creased my brows and looked around my surroundings but before I could talk to the dog again he ran off with the rest of his pack, back towards the house.

I had only just realized that whatever heat that was suffocating me in the Forest House had dissipated, still lingering below the surface but no longer unbearable.

I huffed, unsure what to do in the middle of the forest with a feeding wretchedness in the pit of my stomach.

I decided on heading towards where the largest plume of smoke was coming from, I had seen the set up of Mabon hundreds of times and knew this was the way to the throne, knew Eris must be sat upon it.

I hadn't explored Mabon much during previous years, I was always a barmaid for my father's pub, it had gotten crazy business during the week of Mabon so he needed any help he could get, funnily enough, that's how I met Eris.

I shake my head at the memory, thinking about Eris was almost painful, it felt like something was being carved out of me every moment I was without him.

I seethed a string of curses as I continued my trudge through the trees, staying in the shadows and avoiding the eyes of any drunk wanderers. I doubted they'd recognize me as their high lady anyway, Eris was the only one who ever saw me outside of my gowns and robes, this lacy slip was practically lingerie compared to the heavy dresses I often wore.

Lucky for me it had blended in with the other girls perfectly, in fact, I had seemed more covered up than most. Once I had made it out into the open area I spotted Eris immediately. On the throne, as expected, his legs spread wide and I wanted nothing more than to put myself between them.

He was shirtless, forest green paint smeared onto his body in tribal patterns of lines and dots, but he was glistening in sweat, drops running down the side of his face, through the grove of his abdomen. I didn’t want to think about who had the honor of putting that paint into those very groves, I only wanted to think about being the one to wash it off.

Heat pooled in my stomach as his eyes found mine from across the way, my body went rigid as he trekked his gaze down it, then so slowly back up, taking in every bare inch as well as every clothed part of me, like he was wondering just how perfect I looked underneath.

My knees shook as he lifted his hand and with two fingers waved me over. Waves of heat wash over me at every step I take closer, the power that radiated off of him left me defenseless, and the pain I had experienced earlier subsided entirely in favor of morphing into arousal.

Once I reach the dais I curtsy with a playful smile. "I thought I asked you to stay inside?" He purred, his voice rougher than usual, making my legs tremble.

"I missed you," I shrug, attempting to keep my composure but he opened his side of the bond entirely as soon as I was done speaking and my knees buckled. So, much, power.

It surged at my fingertips, blazed down my spine, and coiled in my abdomen. I couldn't imagine how Eris felt if I was only receiving an influence of it.

"C'mere," He lifts his hips, readjusting them in his ornate throne and I almost choke on my own tongue. He was going to push me over that dangerous edge and he didn't even need to say anything to do it.

I take the steps up the dais and I realize the silence in the crowd save for the music, people were watching, and couldn't keep their eyes off of the two of us. The offering between High Lord and Lady, the melding bond between us so clear on a night like this that any outsider could see that golden tether just as well as he or I could.

"On my lap, Fawn," He glances down to his thigh and I swallow thickly. "Oh, don't tell me you've become shy all of the sudden?" He smirks at the idea. I had told him I was willing to let him fuck me in front of all these people— still was, and yet sitting on his lap was the line to the path that I wasn't sure I could come back from.

My coaxing arousal won the battle and I took my final steps toward him, closing that distance, his hand came to the back of my thigh and I nearly melted at his touch, my body quivering in reaction because gods, if I had felt like a kindling fire earlier then he was a fucking inferno.

His fingers singed with flames but I felt none of the added heat as I took my place on his lap, straddling over his thigh and wrapping my arms around the nape of his neck, pulling him so close I wish I could've melted right into him, slotted myself into each of his grooves and stayed there, impossible to clean, impossible to get rid of.

My lips came to his neck without any forethought, I didn’t have control over my own mind, it was entirely consumed by him, his intoxicating scent of cinnamon, clove, and now an undertone of something different, something just as mouth-watering as the way his hands felt on my bare skin.

I fought the thoughts that told me to rip my dress off and decided to put my hands to better use and rub them down his chest, pressing my palm into his abdomen as I continued kissing his neck. I sucked and licked and nipped without caution, I didn't care if others were watching, he had never been more powerful than he was in this moment, both over others physically and over me mentally.

The domination running through his veins was attractive, so damned powerful and yet he knew how to control it, to conceal it beneath his skin rather than flaunt it, and he shared a fraction of it with me, a simple kernel of it was enough to send me spiraling.

"What are you doing? Dance," Eris spits at his subjects and they immediately do as he says, the music picking up in a crescendo of rushed notes to meet his demand.

I smiled against his shoulder at how much authority he held, my hips involuntarily winding over his thigh and I let out a soft, pleasurable sound. He grunts in return.

"If you keep making those sounds we're not going to make it back to our bedroom," He warns lowly beside my ear and I rut my hips again at the perfect sound.

"I don't know what's wrong— fuck," I'm cut off by my soft moan, his muscled thigh providing just the right amount of friction against my clit. "I don't know what's wrong with me, but I need you to fuck me now," I plead and I sense a sudden change in his demeanor.

"Now?" He hums and I can hear the smirk in his voice. Damned bastard. "In front of all these people?" He intones and I nod helplessly.

"However you want me, wherever, just— gods do it now," I beg, continuing to wind my hips over his thigh.

His foxlike smirk doesn't falter as his hands grip my hips, halting my needy movements only to guide me down onto his thigh himself, my core aching as he does so. I cry out at the feeling, it shouldn't have felt this good, it's never been this intense, even when our mating bond clicked I hadn't been so consumed by his fire that was so dangerously out of control and feeding into my own.

"I need you inside of me," I murmur, coming to the conclusion that this torment will not subside until he finds release inside of me, the mother herself was impelling us to consummate, to breed, and I was more than willing to oblige for her.

"Eris," I grip at his shoulder, paint smearing onto my hands, soiling my nightgown. But I didn't care, any piece of him spreading onto me felt like it was a gift from the gods, and I needed more. "Please, fill me," I beg into the warmth of his neck.

"You want me to come inside you? Want these people to watch while I give you an heir?" He taunts, his words ghosting against the shell of my ear. I reply with a pitiful whimper, unsure what to retort with because he was right. I didn't care who was watching, as long as they knew I was his and he was mine.

"Yes," I pant, my hand coming to the back of his neck. "That's exactly what I want," I plead, the rutting of my hips not slowing for a moment. "Show them I'm yours,"

My words seemed to push him over that fine line and he had obeyed. His rough hands grip my waist, pulling me over his hips so I was no longer straddling his thigh but rather angled just above his cock that was strained in his pants, the confinement so tight it almost seemed painful.

“Yeah?” He hummed and I nodded helplessly. “You want everyone to hear just how pretty your moans are when you’re sitting on my cock?” He asked and I whimpered, feeling powerless under his stare. Whatever heat that had been affecting me tonight had doubled over with his arousing words.

“I can’t be gentle with you right now,” He gritted through clenched teeth, the tip of his nose drawing a line up the side of my throat. “Can’t, control myself right now,” He murmured in warning and I smiled at the idea of having an effect on him as much as he did on me.

“I don’t want control,” I sigh against the side of his neck. “I need you now controlled or not, so please, Eris fuck me,” I begged and with one last kiss to my neck he obliged.

With an expert hand, he tore my underwear right from my hips, pulling the lace off like it was nothing. My heat was now left bare but it didn’t stop me from grinding down onto his bulge. I was staining his pants with my slick, dripping down onto him and he groaned as my wetness seeped through the material.

“Fuck, you’re drenched,” He admired and I nodded with purely innocent eyes, the kind that silently pleaded for him to fill me until he was satiated.

All I felt was hunger, and I could tell by the way flames alighted in his gaze that he felt it too.

Quickly, he removed his leathers and his cock springs up, smacking against my soaked folds, my pussy leaking over his length. The heat between us must’ve been record-breaking, I felt like a candle burning all too fast, making a mess of wax that he was too slow to clean.

The moment I felt his tip prod at my entrance my nails dug into his shoulder. I still didn’t know what it was that was wrong with me, I had never experienced an ache quite like this, the kind that only he could patch over.

“Please,” I cry, my cunt weeping as I crave for him to sink his length into me. “Show them how good you fuck me,” I mewl and perhaps it was the taboo factor of it all, how thrilling it was to have an audience while I rode him, but that had been his breaking point before he gripped the tops of my thighs and pushed me down onto his length.

My breath catches in my throat as I stretch around him, around every inch of him. He was so very large, and on any other night he’d need to fuck me with his fingers first, make sure I was ready for his member without the pain, but tonight we are both so needy that any foreplay was thrown out the window the moment I left our bedroom.

The pain was disguised as pleasure as he helped guide me lower onto him, it hadn’t been unbearable since I was slick with a natural lubricant, my arousal dripping down my thighs and onto his, as I took him deeper and deeper.

I swore he met places he’s never touched before, and fuck was it more than anything I had ever wanted.

This feeling was the god ecstasy prayed to, and I was blessed by it.

“That’s it, just like that, fuck yourself on my cock Fawn,” He encourages and I gasp out my moan, finally reaching his base, pressing against it with mine.

“Your court is watching, give ‘em a show for me,” He purrs, and so I do exactly that.

I begin to lift on his length, my knees buckling at the action but I ignore the pain and favor it for the pleasure as I drop down onto him, wielding gravity as my weapon. He lets out a low grunt and I do it again, continuing the action over and over again, bouncing on his cock just like he asked.

“Fuck, so good for me,” He praised, his eyes blazing with an untamable fire. “Such a good girl,” He sighs, his head craning back, leaning into his golden throne as his hands slip beneath my nightgown.

He didn’t take the dress off, because there were simply just some things he refused to let anyone else see, and though I was getting off on having an audience he wasn’t going to let everyone else get off on it too. He grips my hips tightly from beneath the slip, his callouses scraping against my soft skin, burning it with an unyielding pain, the kind that brings pleasure with it.

His cock seemed just as hot as I continued to fuck myself on it, the vein on the underside pulsing so feverishly I could feel it. The head of him pressed right into that sweet spot and it was a miracle I hadn’t come yet, gods he was going to send me over that edge any second now.

My lips connect with his, and he responds to the familiar feeling on instinct, his tongue slipping beneath my lips and tasting every fraction of me he can get his mouth on.

I moan onto his tongue every time he presses that deep spot inside of me, my noises only adding to the sound of skin slapping and the lewd sound of my pussy taking every inch of him. Our own music drowned out the symphony playing for the others.

“Eris, I can’t,” I pant against his lips. “I’m gonna come,” I warn and he smirks.

“So soon?” He taunts and I nod pitifully, continuing to rut my hips over his.

“Please, it hurts,” I whine, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. And it did hurt, it hurt to not be granted that release I craved so desperately.

“Go ahead, make a mess all over my lap,” He allows and I would’ve wept at the words if my orgasm hadn’t consumed me first.

It felt like pure fire, setting me aflame and impossible to control. It was the kind of climax that lingered for hours on end, the kind that left my legs jolting and my eyes struggling to open. I let out a loud moan, so loud that if the dancing fae hadn’t known what had been happening, they did now. “You did so well baby,” He hums as I slowly come down from my high but I don’t have the strength to lift off his cock, and I definitely didn’t have the willpower to continue my movements. My thighs were burning and I hadn’t noticed until my climax settled.

“You done?” He coos and I nod, but the tone of his voice tells me it is him who is nowhere near finished with me, his member still hard inside of me evidence of that.

He didn’t warn me before he winnowed us back to the Forest House, the same position except he was no longer sitting on the throne but rather our bed.

I whine, falling limp against his shoulder. “I can’t take anymore, Eris,” I sigh and he shakes his head.

“Oh, no baby you said you wanted an heir and I’m going to give one to you.” He flipped us over so I was splayed out on my back, sinking into the mattress with my legs hooked around him.

“Eris I’m not on a tonic— fuck,” I try but he felt so much deeper in this position.

“Does it feel like I care?” He sighs into my hair and I shake my head no. “That’s right, now be a good girl and stay true to your word,” He demanded and I swallowed thickly, nodding while he lifted one of my legs up to hook on his shoulder, spreading my legs wide as I clamped down onto him.

“Fuck, I can’t wait to fill this pretty pussy, squeezing me so tight,” He grunted and I lost all cohesive thoughts, strings of moans escaped me as he rolled his hips down onto mine, his full balls slapping against my folds as his pace quickened.

“More,” I plead.

“Yeah? You want me to fill you don’t you?” He says and I was quick to show my agreement by squeezing around him tighter. “You just can’t wait to have my babes, isn’t that right?” He grunted into the shell of my ear and I nodded with a hum of restless accord. “Your tits are gonna be so fucking swollen,” He sighs and I clench around him at his dirty words. “You like that?” He kisses up my neck.

“Mhm, want your seed in me, Eris,” I whine and he twitches, a sign he’s nearing his climax.

I was hungry for his warm release, ached for it to fill my every crevice, let it seep into my womb.

I met his thrusts with my own sudden desire, sending my hips down onto him while he drove his cock right into that spongy bundle of nerves.

“I’m close,” He grunts.

“Me too,” I whimper, my legs locking up as my orgasm races to meet me.

My hands go into his hair and I pull at his short locks as my second climax finds me and I’m squeezing around him tighter than ever before. My walls flutter around him, and my pussy twitched as he continues his fast pace. He groans at the intense convulsions around him and suddenly his release is spurring out into me, kissing my cervix as he does so, his seed shooting out on a straight path to my womb.

“Fuck,” He sighed while guiding my leg down from his shoulder, and with a few more languid, slow strokes of his cock he finishes, slipping from my heat and falling down onto the bed beside me, both of us out of breath and settling over the action we had just committed to.

I clench my thighs shut, keeping his warm seed nestled inside of me. “Good?” I ask and he flips onto his side, arm slinging over my sweat-slicked body, pulling me into him.

“So good.” He presses kisses to the top of my head and I flip around to face him, my eyes heavy with exhaustion.

“I think I like this High Lord stuff,” I say, my hand coming to his cheek and he chuckles, leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to my lips.

“I think so too,” He whispered against my mouth, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

“Alright, let’s get you cleaned up,” He sat up, pulling me with him and I groaned. “You can sleep after, I promise, Fawn,” He said with a gentle tone that rivaled his earlier rough grunts.

“Eris please, just lay with me for a few more minutes,” I huff stubbornly and he shakes his head, hauling me from the bed and taking me to the connected bathroom.

“I’ll lay by you all night after I clean you up. Sound like a deal?” He says, settling me down onto the cold counter that sent shivers up my spine and I lazily nodded, looking up at him. He grins and leans closer, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

“I love you,” He whispers and I match his smile.

“Love you too, Eris.” I look up at him with only honesty in my gaze. “Now hurry up, I’m tired,” I grumbled and he chuckled.

“Alright, alright.” He shakes his head in disbelief, wetting a cloth with warm water before beginning to clean me up, treating me with utter tenderness after he gave me the two best orgasms of my life. This male was going to be the death of me, and I was going to love every moment of it until that day.

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