#west coast best coast darling

[girlgerard]

i forgot i’m gonna be in LA tomorrow for a cousin’s wedding. gerard you better rev up that pronoun circle before the plane touches down

[artjipson]

The Unconventional Jingle: Exploring the Charms of Indie Rock Holiday Songs

The holiday season is traditionally accompanied by the familiar sounds of sleigh bells, cheerful choirs, and iconic tunes from well-established artists. However, for those with an inclination towards alternative and independent music, the indie rock genre offers a refreshing twist to the festive soundtrack. No November 21st, Tom Gilliam and I celebrated our 13th annual YTAA Indie Holiday show. We…

[alexlwrites]

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞

✿𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: Alpha! Hyung line x Omega! Reader

✿ 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: "And through some happenstance, casual and cruel, shaped by the hands of the Moon goddesses, you ended up face to face with what They considered your fated mates.

Of course, they didn’t know that - how could they recognize their goddess-given match if you had no scent? As long as you didn’t reach maturity, only you would feel this pull, this constant urge pooling at your lower abdomen when their scents filled your nose and sent your eyes rolling back.

You knew your place and it was not amongst royalty."

OR  

The one where you find your fated alphas, but they can't find you.

✿ 𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒔:  Romance, Humor, Fluff, Angst, ABO, Soulmate AUs.

✿ 𝑨/𝑵: Should I be writing another fanfic when I have not finished a single one of my works? No. Does my brain understand that? Also no.

Anyway enjoy, like and subscribe and ignore any mistakes as english is not my first language and i dont proof read anything in my life.

P.S: This is heavely inspired by the book Pack Darling, so shoutout to that duology give it a read, yall!

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: This is a 18+ work! Minors, please do not interact. Also, there will be mentions of violence and abuse.

(Fanfic masterlist)

(support me on my ko-fi if you enjoy my work <3)

°•. ✿ .•°

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞: 𝐒𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬

You didn’t know how long you had been running, nor how far you’d gotten. The skies had darkened and then lightened again since the moment of your escape and you assumed you had a few more hours before your absence was noticed, but you didn’t have it in yourself to stop, steps only briefly faltering from exhaustion but still fueled by fear.

You had to keep going. No amount of distance was enough between you and what you had left behind.

Still, there was only so much your body could take in its malnourished state and after a while your legs slowed down on their own, feet too hurt to continue carrying your weight. Yet you stumbled forward through unknown woods, watching trees and shrubbery blurr past you as you dragged yourself towards what you hoped was west - towards the coast.

You had never left the walls that surrounded your family’s home, but had seen the maps that covered the walls of your father’s study enough to remember the outlines of the charted land and the sprawling expanse of the coastal city near the territory you lived - the closest and the only one you could get on foot, even if you were unsure what your next step would be once you got there.

Adamas - the capital of diamonds - laid hopefully ahead of you, filled to the brim with marine vessels and royal ships that you could maybe sneak in and let yourself be carried far away from the claws of your family, running until you found somewhere quiet and reclusive where you could spend your days alone and free from your own status and its implications.

But that dream seemed further and further away as your body shivered and withered, unable to continue your journey, faltering until you gave out and found yourself lying atop a pile of leaves on the cold forest floor.

You sighed, a tortured breath escaping your exhausted lungs. Maybe it was the best you’d get - not the solitary cottage you yearned for, but the swift death by the hands of nature. Still an escape, death. Still freedom from that was always expected of you, from the destiny that awaited.

You closed your eyes and waited, giving up on the weight of consciousness. Any moment now, you thought. It would all be over. As the edges of your mind started to become hazy, your tired lungs pulled one more labored breath and with it a scent that reached out to the deepest parts of your soul with a calming, friendly touch and released the tension from your body.

This is heaven, you thought, and allowed yourself to sleep.

***

There was an unconscious omega in his lands and King Namjoon was unsure on what to do.  

Omegas were rare within the wolf genes - they were the smallest of the packs, the caregivers and kindest diplomats, made to become nursing figures within each family dynamic and bring balance to the usually violent and short fused nature of alphas, despite their positions as providers and leaders. But omegas, gentle and fragile omegas, were far and few between and from a very young age Namjoon had been taught to treat them with the utmost care. 

With that being said, Namjoon was also taught to be wary of trespassers and this tiny, wounded omega was somehow within his borders. 

How did you get there, he wondered. There were no roads leading to the back of the castle where he usually strolled through in the early mornings, only thick woods that would be almost a day on foot before you got to any sort of path.

In the end, his instincts spoke louder, dynamics drilled into his brain and pulling him towards the tattered frame on the ground. With all the kindness he could muster from his large frame, he gathered your body in his arms, gently cradling your form.

As he walked, he let his eyes access you: small, disconcertingly thin, with hollow cheeks and dark circles marring your lovely soft features. You had no mating mark on your neck and no distinguishable scent - and that was what confused him the most.

When an omega reaches maturity, their scent would evolve into something unique that would eventually be used to attract a mate and potentially even identify a fated scent match - a partner made by the heavens, your perfect half.

But despite looking past the age of maturity, you smelled clean, neutral with just a hint of sweetness to classify you as an omega.

What on earth could have happened to you, he wondered, worriedly scanning your bruised body and jutting bones.

And what on earth would he do with you?

***

Sometimes Hoseok couldn’t understand his leader.

He watched as Namjoon paced up and down his office, heavy steps echoing around as he stomped in contemplation.

From the day they met, decades ago, when they were both babbling toddlers, Hoseok had accepted  the younger man as pack. Both sons of monarchs, born in allied families, they were thrown together in royal play pens as soon as they could hold the weight of their own heads.

Hoseok always considered it a privilege to watch his brother in arms grow into his  position - a natural born leader, a king. And Hoseok never once doubted his ability to rule fairly and successfully. 

But every so often he couldn’t help but question his friend’s common sense.

“Namjoon” he called to his still restless friend “You cannot possibly be considering throwing the omega in the dungeons?”

“She is technically trespassing” his friend argued stubbornly.

“She’s an omega!”

His own mother being a rare omega, some rules had been drilled very early into Hoseok’s young mind: omegas are to be treasured, his father had said, it is your job as an alpha to protect them should you be blessed enough to find one.

He hadn’t actually seen the omega. He had barely woken up when a maid ushered him to the king’s office where Namjoon had asked for his council while burning a hole through the carpet. 

“She could be dangerous. Some sort of trap, maybe?”

No threat could scare Hoseok more than the idea of his father finding out he had allowed some poor omega to be thrown into their underground cells and so he pleaded “Put her in one of the guest rooms and set my guards in the exits. When she wakes up, I’ll interrogate her myself.”

Namjoon considered the offer for a few seconds, examining the face of the captain of his guard and one of his closest friends. At last, he nodded and settled down in a nearby chair, calling a guard to give the order to move you from the infirmary to the guest aisle of his castle as soon as possible.

Unable to hold back his curiosity any longer, Hoseok asked his shaky leader after a few seconds of silence “What is she like?”

There was a gleam in Namjoon’s eyes Hoseok couldn’t explain and doubted his king could either “Small,” he let out quietly “black and blue all over, all skin and bones like she hadn’t seen a plate of food in days”. Hoseok closed his fists on an impulse and had to force his fingers to relax. Could he blame this sort of reaction on his instincts? 

He thought Namjoon wouldn’t say anything else, but after a few more seconds of silence his king continued “Pretty” he said softly at last, almost like an afterthought.

Hoseok couldn’t help himself, having never met another omega besides his own mother, and asked “And… The scent?”

“Clean.”

Hoseok blinked “She’s a child?”

“No. Full grown. Can’t be more than a couple years younger than us.”

That’s odd, Hoseok thought. From what he was taught, a healthy adult omega should have developed a signature scent - like his mom, with her easily recognizable roses and clear meadows.

Right as he was about to ask to see you, his fascination with the idea of a scentless omega getting the best of him, a maid rushed into the room to announce your awakening.

Both men rushed out of the room, elbowing each other to leave first through the door, impatient to get to where you laid, barely avoiding toppling the poor maid on their way.

The infirmary was a wide room with tall ceilings and large windows that let in the morning light from most angles. That same light illuminated your figure as they walked in, eyes drawn to the only bed occupied in the room.

Oh. You were in fact pretty, Hoseok concluded, watching you blink owlishly at the sunlight invading the space. You had a soft looking kind of beauty that was barely overshadowed by your debilitated state that caused a stirring of protection in both alphas. Who could’ve left you like that, he wondered, and how quickly could he wrap his hands around their necks and twist…

“You’re awake” Namjoon pointed out, catching your attention.

That seemed to be the wrong course of action. When your eyes landed on where the men stood by the door, they widened to the size of saucers. Something about their presence sent you scrambling out of your bed, falling onto the ground with a dull thud as you rushed to put some space between yourself and the imposing males.

“Hey, hey, hey” Hoseok raised his hands, palms facing forward to indicate his intention to cause no harm, your terrified expression keeping him far “Be careful, little lady.”

You didn’t say anything, just kept cowering further and further away until your back hit a wall and you winced in pain.

“Stand up and get back to your bed” Namjoon commanded roughly and Hoseok could see your fighting against the urge to submit to the alpha’s orders, causing him to elbow his friend “Please” he added “You are hurt and weak and shouldn’t be out of bed’ he continued in a much gentler tone. 

Slowly, you moved yourself back to the mattress, shuffling to hide under the blankets, bringing them over your nose and leaving only your panicked eyes visible.

The last thing Hoseok wanted at that moment was to interrogate you when you were so clearly distressed, body shaking under your burrow. But he had duties to uphold and your presence raised questions that just staring at your disarmingly cute face wouldn’t answer.

“What’s your name, little lady?” he asked.

You mumbled your name so quietly he almost didn’t catch it, the sound stifled by the fabric covering your lips. When he did hear it, he did not recognize it.

“How did you manage to get into the castle’s grounds?”

You gulped. “The castle?” you repeated in a whisper. 

“Do you know where you are?” Namjoon asked and you shook your head fearfully “Do you know who we are?”

Sinking deeper into the safety of your blankets, you shook your head once more.

“I’m Jung Hoseok, head of the royal guard” and just when Hoseok thought your eyes couldn’t get any wider, they did, panic seeping further into your gaze “And this is Kim Namjoon” the words had your face paling until devoid of any color, yet he continued “the King of Adamas.”

Both men watched your face for a reaction, seeing you gape in shock, eyes rolling back to your skull as you promptly passed out.

***

You woke up to a churning stomach and a pounding headache, both hunger symptoms that you were very familiar with. How many days had it been since you last ate? You couldn’t tell, the night sky outside the windows of the empty room signaling the end of another day. And at that moment, your starvation was the least of your problems. 

The king - the fucking king - was your mate. And so was the head of his guard. 

When you first opened your eyes to sunlit room, regaining consciousness after Gods knew how long, their scent hit you like a brick to the face, sending you flying off the bed on the brink of a panic attack.

This couldn’t be happening. Not now. You were so close!

You looked for their reaction, trying to gauge if they were feeling what you were - this life changing pull in your core, this prickling feeling underneath your skin, fingers twitching at your side to reach for your alphas.

But there was nothing, not a flick of recognition, only wariness and mild concern.

These were not your alphas - these were your king and his most trusted guard. And you were just an omega on the run, worth only the money you could be sold for.

You remembered the first offer your father had received once the neighboring towns heard about his siring of an omega. Up until then your father had never seen much value in your existence. Before you, he had only had alpha boys - three, to be exact - older, stronger and meaner than you, built for leadership roles and bringing his legacy to another level.

But you? What use did he have for small, needy, whimpering you? None, he had told you many times over. Your father had never been afraid to remind you of your place in the household: the burden.

Until you became the pot of gold.

You weren’t sure how, but someway or another the news of your existence reached the next town and then the next town over, and so forth until your father was reminded that even though he saw no value in housing an omega, the rest of the world did. 

5 million. That was the first offer he received, when you were only fourteen.

And for a moment you believed that could be your way out of your father’s cruel claws - get yourself a husband far away and live happily ever after, pampered and taken care of by some alpha knight.

But those daydreams died soon enough when you learned from the maids what happened to sold omegas.

Imprisoned. Trapped. Breeded. Discarded. Rinse. Repeat.

There was an audible crack in your heart, a rift in the fragile rivulet of hope you had for a future of better days. Since then, the only thing you could hope for was an escape. You daydreamed of far away lands and open fields with no civilization for miles, only an ivy covered cottage for you to hide away from the world.

Alas, that dream seemed further and further away as you got older. You knew your father was just waiting for you to present, hoping that whatever scent you developed would up the price with its enticement and your late blooming was a constant reason for his frustration. Your development was the only thing between you and your sale to the highest bidder.

And if you had any say in it, you would never present. In order to do so, your body needed to be healthy - and you just never were.

Starvation, overexhaustion and overworked muscles had been your saviors since you realized they could delay your maturity. So from the day you turned 16 - about the age omegas started presenting - you began restricting your meals to about one every two days. You ran around the property’s grounds until your feet screamed in agony and your knees gave out. Your sleep schedule was messy and insufficient and so your body remained fragile and unchanged.

And that worked up until your 22nd birthday when your father got tired of waiting.

And so you ran, climbing on the back of a supply carriage that you had visited one day and letting it carry you as far as it could. And then you sprinted, like you had been doing for years.

And through some happenstance, casual and cruel, shaped by the hands of the Moon goddesses, you ended up face to face with what They considered your fated mates.

Of course, they didn’t know that - how could they recognize their goddess-given match if you had no scent? As long as you didn’t reach maturity, only you would feel this pull, this constant urge pooling at your lower abdomen when their scents filled your nose and sent your eyes rolling back.

You knew your place and it was not amongst royalty. You were, as your father always pointed out, too small, too weak and too soft to carry on a legacy, a kingdom. 

You had to get out before your ticking bomb of a body turned against you and distanced you once more from your peaceful cottage dream.

You just needed to figure out how.

°•. ✿ .•°

𝐌𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧! 𝐂𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝

[baddestbittyontheblock]

lewis hamilton fic recs

✦ dividers by @graphicstorage, @chilumitos, @baexywth ✦

₊˚⊹ ᰔ hi everyone!! here is a list of all the lewis hamilton fics that are my favs with tagged writers/authors ₊˚⊹ ᰔ

ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ remember to like and reblog the works you enjoy in order to support each incredible writer!! ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ

₊˚⊹ ᰔ however, make sure you read the information on each story themselves such as triggers & warnings ₊˚⊹ ᰔ

ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ if you’d like me to remove your fic from this list, message me! ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 the hamilton girls by @starkwlkr dad!lewis hamilton x reader | fluff

-lewis hamilton was many things. a formula 1 driver, a seven time world champion, an idol, an inspiration to many young kids, but most of all, he was a husband and father to three girls. his family was everything to him. He enjoyed being a dad to his three precious gir

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 you'll be fine by ^ dad!lewis x reader | fluff

-the hamilton family had finally made it to australia.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 in my life (i love you more) by @viennakarma lewis hamilton x fem!reader | established relationship, ex-wife reader, reader is an architect, cheating, smut, pregnancy symptoms, pregnancy sex, fingering and oral sex, lactation kink (briefly), chilbirth (not descriptive), lots of fluff, open ending, happy ending, 8.3k

-navigating pregnancy is an adventure on its own, but doing it with your recently divorced ex-husband is on a whole new level. but maybe it's the perfect opportunity to find your kinship once again.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 say something (i'm giving up on you) by ^ lewis hamilton x fem!reader | established relationship, wife reader, reader is an architect, cheating, smut, mild somnophilia, mentions of pregnancy and children, very very angsty, no hea

-your husband tells you the truth about vegas, and it makes your perfect sandcastle crumble.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 wanna have your baby by @tomorrcwz lewis hamilton x reader | smut (+18), breeding kink, condoms have no need here but pls use them irl!!, also romantic

-he's lost in his feelings and lost in the desire to make a baby with you, his darling woman

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 let me answer by ^ lewis hamilton x reader | smut, sir kink, description of a female body, answering the phone during sex, piv, riding, possessiveness

-the possessiveness comes to the light when your ex won't stop calling you during sex

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 the best trophy by @lewisvinga lewis hamilton x fem!reader | mentions of sex, cursing

-as much as lewis loved his and y/n’s fwb , he couldn’t help but want more. all it took was one grand moment for him to finally reveal his feelings

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 west coast by ^ lewis hamilton x fem!reader | mentions of drinking

-y/n leaves lewis due to the feeling of being held back from consistently traveling to his races, only to realize how much she missed him.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 around the world by ^ lewis hamilton x fem! reader | fluff, 0.8k

-influencer y/n decides to do the trend of showing off her outfits with lewis as they traveled around the world.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 end of the road by @dilemmaontwolegs lewis hamilton x wife!reader | 18+ only, pregnancy, angst, fluff, 2.9k

-when you and your husband both have a surprise to share you find your plans for the future clashing

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 rosso corsa by @pucksandpower lewis hamilton x leclerc!reader | 18+ content

-lewis hamilton has been called the GOAT by many … after he becomes your brother’s new teammate, you learn firsthand that being the greatest of all time extends to quite a few other aspects of his life as well

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 what you do to me by @monzabee  lewis hamilton x fwb!reader | angst, feelings, friends with benefits relationship, smut!, slight choking, unprotected sex (wrap your willy, don’t be silly!), slight manhandling?, pwp, minors dni!!, 3.4k

-the one where lewis returns home to you – the one thing he desperately wants, but won't let himself have completely.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 cuff it by @hopefulromantic1 lewis hamilton x reader | smut (18+), 3.5K

-lewis never wants to give up control but y/n is persistent in her request for a chance to take charge in the bedroom.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 eight words when i think about us by @monzabee  lewis hamilton x reader | smut!, spanking, oral (m receiving), slight choking, unprotected sex (better wear that latex if you don’t want that i’m late text), slight manhandling?, minors dni!!, 3.2k

-the one where coachella has both you and lewis high on each other. 

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 baby, can you call me back? i miss you... its so lonely in our mansion by @cheriladycl01 lewis hamilton x model!reader | age gap, established relationship, smut (consisting off unprotected sex, fingering, p In v etc.) minors do not interact 18+

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 pink and blue by @neymarsangel  lewis hamilton x reader | smut, fluff, pregnancy, swearing, wrap it before you tap it girlies… 

-both lewis and the reader have baby fever and it gets a little (or maybe a lot)smutty

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 she's here and she's ours by @pickingupmymercedes lewis hamilton x reader | pure fluff, +1k

-sequel she's here and she's not only ours (+1k)

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 bluey by @thisismeracing lewis hamilton x reader | fluff

-the one where you catch Lewis watching Bluey without the kids.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 "whispered hearts" by @forfucksakesniall lewis hamilton x reader | media scrutiny, privacy invasion, public attention, and intense emotions including anxiety and stress. Reader discretion is advised, 1.5k

-lewis hamilton has a secret girlfriend. during the monaco grand prix, their relationship is revealed to the public, but they remain strong and support each other.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 blooming bond by @sebscore lewis hamilton x fem!reader | reference to his iconic 'imagine' tweet, talk about having kids, talk of not wanting an unpresent father, swearing

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 dog's best friend by @leclercdreams lewis hamilton x wife!reader | fluff, mentions of pregnancy and birth, 1.05k

-roscoe meeting your child for the first time and him being really protective

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 to build a home by @tomorrcwz lewis hamilton x pregnant!fem!reader | showering together (but not sexual!!)

-lewis has grown softer, more domestic and slighty more protective of you since knowing you're having a baby, and you're absolutely loving it whenever you shower together or travel to races.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 tis' the season by @whorekneecentral  lewis hamilton x fem!reader | old friends reappear, flashbacks in italics, complicated relationships, expensive gifts cause it's lew lew duh, uses roscoe as an in, brocedes mention, alcohol and the consumption of, sexual tension, oral (f!receiving), degrading, the use of 'slut' in a sexual context, penetrative sex (p in v), choking, creampie, soft moments at be end, 2.6k

-An old friend finds his way to your front door and no matter how much you try to get rid of him, you can’t. 

[3terna15unshin3]

Has there been a phone sex while he’s on tour blurb 👀

Voice

He’s only a call away, right?

1078 words

—

a/n: Oh my god olive there literally hasn’t…….. How have i not written this by now it’s so hot

(Read the main fic here if u want more Matty and Este!!)

cw: 18+, minors DNI, dirty talk (sorry), mutual masturbation, phone sex, sub! matty ish??? a bit??, unedited, (i am posting this now in light of the Phone Eating bit)

—

Este woke up after having dreamt of Matty's face between her legs. The way his tongue pressed strongly at all of the right spots, and his hands gripped around the base of her thighs as she squirmed. Disappointed was an understatement when she peeled her eyes open to see that he wasn't really there.

Tour was long and they were lonely and missing each other, so it was frequent that they thought of the other when getting off alone. But somehow, they had yet to get off alone together; even though they talked on the phone every night (morning for her, per the eight hour difference between the states along the west coast and London).

She was already unbelievably wet, wrapped in her bedsheets with sleep still in her eyes. So, when the first thing she heard was the ring of her phone, a sinful smile crept onto her face.

"Hi darling,"

"Morning," Este answered, voice raspy.

"Shit, have I woken you? I thought 1 would been a safe enough time to call,"

"Oh, don't worry," she insisted, pushing her underwear down her legs and discarding them off the side of her bed. "You're right, I'm usually up by now. Just didn't have the best sleep."

Matty frowned. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah. I was just busy dreaming of you."

He wasn't frowning anymore. Matty gulped the saliva down his throat and his ears perked. He could hear the smirk in Este's voice, and wondered if she somehow knew that he was already semi-hard.

"Oh yeah?" He egged her on, "Tell me about it."

Este bit her lip as she finally put some pressure onto her sensitive clit.

“You were here with me,” she started, eyes closing as she pictured the scene. “And I had your head pinned between my thighs.”

His breath quickened and he grabbed himself over his boxers, quietly hissing at the sudden wave of pleasure.

“Was I making you feel good?” Matty asked with a whine.

She nodded, forgetting he couldn’t see her, then corrected herself by muttering, “So good, baby.” Her fingers circled quickly. “Your tongue was against me,”

Matty took himself out, spitting into his hand and running it over his length a few times. He let out a breathy moan, then heard one back from Este.

“I wish I could taste you now,”

Her fingers collected the wetness surrounding her entrance and pressed even harder on her bundle of nerves. The action made her hips buck upwards and her jaw drop open.

“Me too. My fingers don’t feel as good as your mouth does,” teased Este, “Are you touching yourself too?”

The sound of his hand moving up and down his cock, slathered in his own spit and pre-cum, echoed through his quiet hotel room. She could hear it, so that answered her question, but Matty responded anyway.

“Fuck, yeah I am,” he groaned. “I’m so fucking hard for you, E.”

Este laid her phone on her pillow next to her ear so she could use her other hand to play with her nipples. She grabbed harshly, sucking in her breath at the feeling.

“All for me?” she egged him on, chest heaving up and down. The muscles in her stomach grew tight as pressure built right below her navel. “Your fist must not compare to my tight little cunt.”

Matty thought about the slick and warm feeling of sinking his cock into her pussy. The way she’d clench around him. He tightened his grip on himself and pictured it as Este instead.

“Darling—God—you’re killing me,” he whined. His action sped up, desperate for release. “My fist isn’t good enough, baby. I need you around me,”

“Keep going. I’m right here,” Este said, slipping two fingers into her entrance and curling them. Her mind drifted to the way he pounded into her relentlessly the last night before he left. Este’s ass stuck up in the air and met him halfway with every thrust. His fingertips on one hand dug into her hips as he fucked her deep; while the other was tangled in her hair, pressing her face into their pillows. The thought of it made her speed up her fingers.

“I’m not gonna last much longer if I do,” warned Matty. He ran his thumb over his pink tip, shuddering in the process.

“Wait for me, baby. I’m almost there. Can you do that?” She moaned at the sound of his frustrated groans on the other side of the line.

His hand only stroked faster. “Please, E. I’m so close already, just let me—”

“Matty.” Este sternly interrupted. “Be good and wait for me. You don’t want me to come all by myself, do you?”

He stilled his fist to try and obey, but then found himself fucking up into it instead. “Fuck, no. I don’t,” Matty responded through gritted teeth, voice intense and cutting. His hips buckled messily as the pressure beneath his skin threatened to snap.

The sound of his desperate plea made Este squeeze her eyes tightly with pleasure. She could hear the filthy rhythm his hand carried over his length and tried to match her own with it. Her breathing sped up as she felt her high approach.

“That’s it. Fuck, I bet you miss fucking this pussy. The way it milks all the cum out of you,” Este managed to whisper, so distracted by the euphoria building up and about to explode that she struggled to speak clearly.

“I miss it so much, baby. P-Please, just let me cum. It fucking hurts, E, you’re gonna make me cum so hard—”

“Fuck, Matty—okay—cum with me. Go on, love,”

He finally let go, coming harder than he ever could without her help. “Shit, Este,” Matty cried, opening his eyes to peer at the white strings pulsing out of him onto his stomach. When he thought of Este licking the hot seed off his skin, he threw his head back against his pillow and bit down on his lip, dick continuing to throb.

Then she came—at the same time—groaning in hysteria, lifting her hips off the bed and trapping her hand between her thighs. His name fell out of her lips, repeatedly and almost pornographically, while she slowed her fingers and rode out her high.

After a few laboured breaths, Este giggled with a post-orgasm giddiness. “Well good morning to me, I guess.” She joked.

Matty rolled his eyes with a smile on his face.

“We’re using FaceTime tomorrow. Deal?”

[cherrycola27]

Red, White, and Rooster

Series Warnings: Language, alcohol consumption. Frenemies to lovers, relationship of convenience. Political situations. Allegations of affairs, military and political inaccuracies. Smut. 18+ Minors DNI. Banner Credit: @thedroneranger

Series Masterlist Previous Part Next Part

...........................................

Chapter 9: Under the Oval

You paced nervously around your bedroom. Bradley had been gone for three weeks. He'd spent some time touring the military bases on the West Coast and reliving some of his glory days. You almost fainted when he FaceTimed you from the cockpit of an F-18. You had been horribly sick with the flu just after your birthday and decided not to make the trip.

He was finally coming home, and you were desperate to see him. The two of you had never spent this much time away from each other since becoming a couple.

"Sweetheart! I'm home! He called into your bedroom as he came through the door. You ran to greet him, jumping into his arms and kissing him with fervor.

"Missed you so much, Dearest." You mumbled between kisses. Bradley stumbled forward in the room with you in his arms. The two of you toppled onto the bed, both desperate for each other.

Bradley had just pulled your top off to reveal a gorgeous black lace bra when his phone rang. He groaned into your neck.

"Don't answer it. Need you so bad." You tried to persuade him, but you knew he couldn't do that. Reluctantly, he answered his phone. After a few minutes, he sighed. "There's some budget proposals and drafts of some new bills that I have to look at. I'm so sorry, darling. I'll try my best to hurry through them. Keep the bed warm for me." He said before kissing you and heading to his office.

You sighed and flopped down on the mattress. Sometimes, being married to the president really sucked.

Hours ticked by, and you were getting lonely. You were desperate to have Bradley close to you. It was approaching 8:30 and he still hadn't come back. You were worried about him, so you decided to pay him a little visit.

You quickly changed out of your sleep clothes and into the pale blue negligee that you had bought while he was away. You slipped on your robe and quietly crept out of your room.

You made your way down the hall before slipping into the Oval Office undetected.

It was dim inside the office. Most of the lights were off except for the lamp on his desk.

"Bradley." You called out to him. His head snapped up from what he was reading to see you strutting towards him.

"Hello, love. I'm sorry. I really didn't think it would take so long." He apologizes to you. "It's fine, honey. I thought I could come keep you company. You say as you pause beside his desk.

"I would love that." He smiles at you, but his smile morphs into a look of shock when you slip your robe off your body and he sees what you're wearing underneath.

"Y/N," he breathes out. "You can't come in here looking like that and not expect me to want to bend you over this desk." He warns you before pushing his chair back just enough for you to come stand in between his legs. You palm him through the pants of his suit before undoing his belt and opening his pants just enough to free him.

He groans when you touch him. He pulls you into his lap, and you sink down over him. Encasing him in your warmth.

His hands find your hips as he urges you to move. "Sweetheart, please." He begs.

You shake your head.

"Oh no, you're going to sit here and finish your work while I warm your cock Mr. President. And when you get done, I'm going to get on my knees and show you just how happy I am that you are home, sir." You whisper in his ear.

He softly groans into your neck and inhales your scent. You smell like the lily soap you're fond of, and traces of your J'adore perfume still linger on you. He rubs soothing circles with his thumbs across your thighs as you full settle around him, legs draping lazily over his, while your arms wrap around his neck and you cling to him like a koala.

He slides back up to his desk, and the slight shift has you sinking deeper onto him. You both gasped at the sensation.

You lay your head on his shoulder as you play with the hairs at the nape of his neck. You ghost kisses along his jaw line and below his ears.

"Love being so full of you, sir." You whisper. "Love keeping you so warm, Mr. President." His breath hitches.

"Missed you so much, Bradley. Just wanna be close to you, Dearest." You breathe out against the shell of his ear.

He inhales sharply as he tries to focus on finishing his work. He loves the feeling of your velvet walls wrapped around him. He'd love it even more if he was fucking you stupid right there in the middle of the Oval Office. He can't count the number of times he's thought about it.

He speeds up his work, trying his best to finish, even though you're making it hard to focus by trialing feather light kisses and touches along his jaw. The subtle flutters of your core around his cock also aren't helping either.

He speeds through the last of his paperwork and sighs when he finishes. He cups your face and brings your lips to his. "All done baby—fuck—can I have you now?" He asks between kisses. His breath stutters as you flex around him. He loves how good you feel wrapped around him. You're tight and warm, he's certain your pussy was made for him.

But the warmth is short-lived as you lift off of him and perch yourself on the edge of his desk. Bradley lets out a whine of disappointment as he tries to pull you back to him. You stretch out your foot, gently resting it on his firm peck to stop him.

He looks at you. His honey brown eyes are big and hazy as he silently pleads with you. You chuckle before gliding your foot down his sternum and jumping off his desk.

You sink to your knees on the plush office carpet.

Soon, your eye level with his cock.

You take in the sight of it. It's so fucking pretty. Most men probably wouldn't like it if you said their dick was pretty, but Bradley's was fucking beautiful.

It was long and thick. Hard veins wrapped around the shaft. The fat mushroom tip was flushed, a deep rose. It matched his plush lips that you loved so much. It had just the slightest upward curve that would hug your gspot when he fucked you.

Currently, a bead of precum was pearled on the tip, while the rest of it was shiny and slick with your wetness.

You reached out and wrapped one hand tentatively around him as you began to stroke him. He groaned in relief.

Your tongue peaked out and licked your lips before running from the base to the tip of him. You swirled your tongue around the head before wrapping your lips around it.

Breathy moans fell from his lips as you took more and more of him into your mouth. You hollowed out your cheeks and exhaled before taking him fully down your throat. Bradley let out a guttural groan as your nose pressed into the neat blonde curls at the base of his length.

He gathered your hair away from your face before tilting your chin up to look at him. You let out a deep breath through your nose before meeting his eyes. You tried to blink back the few tears that had gathered at the corners. One of his hands came up to cup your cheek as his thumb brushed them away.

You swalled around him, causing his hips to stutter forward. You didn't move, though. Instead, you hummed around him contentedly. Seeing that you liked it, Bradley thrust hips forward again, he was rewarded with another moan of your pleasure.

"Fuck—you want me to fuck your face, Sweetheart?" He asked. You nodded.

"God—you look so fucking beautiful down there on your knees in that little blue nighty with your mouth stuffed full of my cock, how can I tell you no?" He says.

You pull back some before taking him down your throat again and again. Soon, Bradley is meeting your thrusts. You take him down your throat over and over again, drool pools at the corner of your mouth, he does he best to wipe it away, but he gets lost futher and futher in the pleasure. Something about seeing his pretty little wife, the First Lady of the United States, on her knees, with a mouth full of cock, giving him sloppy head, makes his brain go blank.

The pleasure you're giving him is so fucking good. He can feel his balls tightening, and he is so close. Just as he is about to cum, the intercom buzzes. Jake's voice rings through asking him if he is still in his office. Bradley is just about to tell him to fuck off when you pull your mouth away from him.

"Tell him to come in." You state. "Wha—no, baby, please, I was so close." Bradley whines.

"Tell him to come in, or you don't get to cum." You state. Bradley isn't sure if you're kidding or not, but in the back of his mind, he knows you're serious. You tuck yourself under his desk as he slides forward to hide his raging hard-on before Jake comes in.

Jake is none the wiser that you're there or to what you and Bradley were just doing.

They are talking about the budget reports when a wicked thought crosses your mind. You lean forward and quietly wrap your lips back around Bradley.

He disguises his surprise as a cough before reaching his hand under his desk. You think his going to pull you off, but instead, he presses your head future down, holding you in place. He should have known you'd be a brat.

You hollow out your cheeks as Jake continues to speak. It's getting harder and harder for Bradley to keep his cool. He's just about to scream at Jake to leave, but Jake gets a call and heads out.

"You naughty little brat." Bradley grunts, put as he snaps his hips into your mouth. You laugh as he fucks your face harder and harder.

"Fuck—I'm gonna cum!" He tells you. "Wanna cum down that pretty throat of yours and watch you swallow it all." He moans out. You moan around him and soon, he's doing just that.

You can taste the saltiness of his relase as it shoots down your throat. You continue to suck him as his hips stutter against your face.

You swallow his load before pulling off of him with a pop. You look up and at him with big doe eyes and stick out your tongue to show him you took ever last drop of him and didn't let any go to waste.

"God, you're such a fucking dream. How are you even real, baby?" He mumbles in appreciation. He tucks himself back in his pants before scooping you up off the floor anr tossing you over his shoulder.

"Bradley!" You gasp in surprise. "What are you doing?"

"Taking you to bed. I fucked your face, now you're going to ride mine." He states ad he carries you out of the office.

He gently places you on your feet before stripping bare and laying on the bed. You go to remove the blue negligee, but he urges you to leave it on. He beckons you to the bed.

You nervously crawl on and straddled his face.

"Bradley, you hesitate. "What if I smother you?" You ask him.

"The Jake will have a hell of a story to tell about how he became the president, now bring my pussy over here and let me taste it." He commands.

"Your pussy?" You snicker.

"Yes, my fucking pussy." He states before pulling you flush against him, leaving not room for argument.

Any argument or smart comment that you would have had died the moment his tongue connected with your clit. He swirled the bud in his mouth before sucking it harshly.

You cried out in pleasure, leaning forward on the headboard for support.

His large hands held you up but encouraged you to ride his face. You circled your hips as he licked your seam over and over again with long, broad strokes. His nose bumped your clit with every motion as he lapped at your core.

"Fuck—Bradley! Just like that!" You cried as he drew figure eights across your sensitive bud. You were already so turned on from sucking him off, you knew you weren't going to last long like this.

Bradley moaned into your cunt. He was enjoying this just as much as you were. He was hard again, hips thrusting into the air as he ate you. Since being president, Bradley had tasted some of the finer things in life, but nothing tasted better than you.

Your thighs were burning with how close you were. They trembled around Bradley's head. You laced your fingers through his hair as you ground down harder on him.

He doubled down on his efforts, alternating between lapping and sucking at your clit, winding the band tighter and tighter until it snapped.

"BRADLEY!" You cried as your high washed over you. He continued to use his tongue to draw out every last ounce of pleasure from you until you were babbling that it was too much.

He helped ease you off of him until you were lying beside him. "Did my good girl enjoy that?" He asked you.

"Yes, sir." You breathed out, still trying to calm down.

"Good." He said as he demeanor shifted. He smirked before quickly flipping you over onto all fours and spanking you.

You squealed at the sudden change.

"And now I'm going to teach you a lesson for being a brat earlier when Jake came in." He growled in your ear. Before slamming into you from behind.

His hips pistoned against yours, pulling you flush against him with every thrust. "You wanna be a brat and tell me I can't cum? I'm gonna fuck every thought out of your head. You think you're such a smart girl? I'm going to show you just how stupid I can make you." He panted as he pushed your head down into the mattress.

The new angle cause him to hit spots deep within you. You were already seeing stars. His fingers dug into your hips. You knew their would be marks from them tomorrow. A visible reminder of the pleasure he was giving you.

He was relentless as he pounded into you. "Fuck, Bra—" you whined, unable to get the rest of his name out. "Plea—sir" you whimpered as one of his hands let got of your hip and snaked around to stroke your clit.

"Are you close? Do you want to cum again for me?" He asked you in a condescending tone. You wanted to scream out a response to him, beg him to let you finish, but the only thing you were capable of was a pathetic whine.

"Has my smart girl been fucked so good she's dumb now? Where are your big words you're so good at using? The only thought in your pretty little head is how good my cock feels isn't it?" He asks. You nod weakly as your fingers grip the sheets.

"Fuck, Sweetheart, griping me so good. You wanna cum? Go ahead then. Cum for me." Bradley says as you finish with a silent scream. He groans as you flutter around him. With a few more sloppy thrusts, he's spilling deep inside you. He slows his movements as you both ride out your highs.

He gingerly pulls out of you before pulling you close to him.

"You did so good for me, baby." He coos. Your eyes are still glassed over, and you're trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure.

"How about we go take a nice hot bath with some bubbles, and then we can cuddle. Sound good?" He asks you. You shake your head to agree.

He carefully gets up and takes you to the bathroom. He sits you on the counter before running a bath. As the two of you slip into the water, you can't help but think about how lucky you are.

No words, just thots! Hope you enjoyed!

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[sc0tters]

What’s Best For You | Adam Fantilli

summary: with the draft hanging over Adam’s head and the view of you getting on with another man brings the end of your relationship, but what happens when you two see each other again?

request: yes/no

warnings: none

prompt: “if you leave don’t come back.”

word count: 2.21k

authors note: I wasn’t planning on writing this one but Adam got the hatty yesterday and I figured we should celebrate him. This isn’t like my normal writing as I got the whole idea for the prompt at like 2 in the morning and just went with it. If you want to see more from the 500 celly you can do so here!

The topic of the draft hung over you both like a bad smell that you couldn’t shake.

Each time one of you brought it up the other would change the subject usually muttering on about how “fate would take its course” or “it’s out of our control so let’s not worry.” But tonight Adam seemed like he was on a mission.

You two had left a party early after Adam saw JJ flirting with you. Now the Fantilli boy wasn’t jealous, he knew you would never cross that line with another man because you loved Adam.

But there was something about that image that he couldn’t stop thinking about. From the way the blonde laughed at your jokes or how your eyes lit up when you saw him.

At first Adam thought you were just friends who had a few classes together, yet that was exactly how you met Adam.

And after nights of staying up wondering what he was meant to do about leaving you, it seemed that tonight he finally had his answer “why are you saying this?” You asked pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration.

Adam had tried to explain it to you for the fifth time but you still refused to hear his message “I can’t love you the way some guys here can if I’m on the west coast.” Adam sighed as he was predicted to go second to the Ducks all the way in Anaheim.

Whilst the boy loved you with all of his heart, to the point where you were the only thing his mind thought of when he woke up and when he went to sleep. Adam came to the conclusion that evening, that it wasn’t fair to expect you to do that long distance relationship.

Tears formed in your eyes “that’s meant to be something I decide, not you Adam!” Your voice broke as you finally realised what was going on here.

Adam was about to break up with you.

It felt like a slap in the face, the man you loved more than you ever thought you could love anyone was telling you that the last six months was all for nothing.

As much as he wanted to hug you and kiss those tears away the hockey player knew that he couldn’t, instead he had to watch them roll down your cheeks “I should go y/n.” Adam’s words had your feet dragging your body towards him.

There was no baby, darling, love, princess that fell from his lips. No, now you were simply just y/n the name you had your entire life now felt bland and boring.

You shook your head “tell me you love me.” You mumbled feeling the sadness replaced by this sense of hurt “tell me that this is all just a dream and that when I wake up you’ll be by my side.” As sobs got stuck in your throat you cut yourself off “I can’t lose you Adam.” You cried finally letting go as his silence seemed to serve as the stark reminder of the reality that was hitting you with the same strength as the cold Michigan winter air when you walk outside in the morning.

The boy shook his head “it’s for the best,” he repeated cupping your cheeks with his hands as he titled your head up so that he could kiss your forehead.

A tear from his eyes landed on your hair soaking the soft strands as his hands dropped to his sides “goodbye sweets,” Adam forced the words from his lips digging his nails into his palms as he stared at you for one final time.

Acting like he didn’t have your face memorised, each scar, each spot, each dimple, he could pinpoint them all. But this time he just wanted to see you, even if it had to be with tears streaming down your face.

As you watched Adam turn around and head back to your dorm door, the pain you were feeling morphed into anger. You were angry at how easily he was willing to give up on you two without giving you a proper reason why, how he made you feel like the only girl in the world to only go and pull the plug on it all when you least expected it. What pissed you off the most was that he had all of these opportunities to break up with you and decided that the last party of the school year was the best option “if you leave now, you better not come back.” The warning in your tone came through as Adam stopped in his tracks.

Not a single coherent thought went through his brain as all he wanted to do was turn around and kiss you whilst he told you just how stupid he was. But instead Adam simply shook his head before he walked out of your room leaving you confused, drunk and upset.

That was two months ago and Adam wanted to call you every minute of every day but he didn’t. Every time he did something he only wanted to tell you about it, but he couldn’t.

Not even you were posting things from your families lake house with none other that JJ McCarthy.

Adam knew that your lake houses were at the same lake literally two minutes away from each other because the day you learnt about it you went and told Adam all about it.

A giggle left your lips as JJ placed his hand on your shoulder “I’ve got to get to practice,” he groaned seeing the clock on the dining hall wall.

You nodded sending him a smile “I’ll see you later J,” you waved watching him nod “bye y/n.” JJ sent you a salute before he walked off.

Adam was quick to walk over to you when he realised you were now alone “what was all that about baby?” He asked leaning down to peck your lips.

Again Adam wasn’t jealous, he felt like you could be friends with anyone that your heart could dream of. But the way JJ looked at you was what made his skin crawl “JJ lives down the road from the lake house in the summer!” You explained locking your hand with his as you began walking back the boys table.

“Funny that right?” You added totally unaware of how Adam was.

To him it had to take an idiot to see that JJ liked you, and part of Adam couldn’t even blame JJ for it, you were a total catch that any guy would be lucky to get.

You stared at the picture of Adam and Luca in their suits that the older Fantilli had uploaded to his close friends story “look we don’t have to watch this if you don’t want to.” JJ sighed seeing you frown.

The draft was one thing you always watched with your grandad who now wasn’t here, so as much as you didn’t want to see Adam you weren’t doing this for him “no I’m good.” You forced a smile onto your lips.

JJ decided to not question you further as he let the volume of the tv go louder as you two watched the third pick. The boy suggested that you only started watching then to avoid seeing Adam “the Columbus Blue Jackets are proud to announce from the University of Michigan Adam Fantilli!” Your eyes went wide seeing your ex get up “what about Anaheim?” You croaked feeling yourself grow sick.

Before the boy had the chance to check on you your body pushed off the couch as you ran to the bathroom.

It had been over eight months since you had been into the Yost and the place you grew to love in your freshman year now felt foreign “if you want to leave let me know.” You felt guilty with how good JJ had been to you since the school year started.

The boy had been good to you as he always made sure you were okay. Whether it was being your company at a party or simply just checking in on you, JJ had grown to hold a special place in your heart but that didn’t make you feel any sense of comfort.

Truth was that you longed for Adam, your roommate had to go as far as delete Adam’s number from your phone after you tried calling him drunk one evening.

You sent JJ a nod as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders giving you a comforting squeeze “he isn’t here anyways.” You pointed out assuming that Adam was with his team celebrating the win against the Redwings in Detroit.

But of course the universe had to prove you wrong as the jumbotron picked up your conversation with JJ flashing your faces on the big screen. You let out a laugh pointing at it “you okay Adam?” Julia asked her son seeing the frown on his face.

Adam nodded forcing a smile on his face “she looks happy,” he shrugged trying to ignore the painful feeling that shot through his chest.

The games end came fast as the wolverines shut out Minnesota. You wanted to drag JJ out of there as you heard the rumours that Adam was there but the football star seemed to have other plans as he forced the excuse that Dylan had something for the boy.

You practically hid behind him as you didn’t know what you were going to do if you saw Adam, your brain couldn’t decide if you preferred the idea of hugging him or cursing him for putting you through the pain that he had done so.

But before you could think about it any further JJ dropped a bombshell on you “I’m going to give you guys a moment.” He mumbled moving to the side so you could lock eyes with Adam and Luca who seemed to be having a similar conversation.

Before you knew it Adam was awkwardly stood in front of you “hey,” you mumbled shoving your hands into the Michigan hoodie to hat was undeniably something you stole from Adam all those months ago.

The Fantilli boy just took the moment to stare at you and your feature as he took in how beautiful you looked “hi.” The hockey player smiled fiddling with the watch on his wrist.

It irritated you how Adam didn’t seem to feel the pain you felt, you had concealer caked beneath your eyes to avoid revealing your dark circles from that lack of sleep “how is your boyfriend?” That comment only aggravated you further as you furrowed your eyebrows.

“JJ is just my friend you dickhead.” You spat causing the boy’s eyes to go wide.

He had to say that he was surprised to hear that you were still single as that little part of him selfishly hoped that you were still in love with him “some of us find it harder to move on when we get dumped out of the blue than others.” You knew it was low but you sent the blow anyways as you had seen all of the rumours and all of the TikTok’s about Adam’s new lovers as he was seen as the dream boy of Columbus.

Adam let out a laugh causing you to cross your arms “this isn’t funny Adam.” You grumbled frowning as your now upset look was clearly highlighted.

Just like how he used to Adam cupped your cheeks forcing you to look at him “all those girls try and I can’t seem to shut up about you.” Adam’s confession had your eyebrows raising in surprise.

In all honesty you truly thought that he broke up with you so he could pursue other things when he left, or at least that was how you liked to think about it because it was easier to try to hate him for leaving you.

Your lips formed a pout “really?” It weirdly warmed your heart to hear that news. Adam nodded as he smiled “thought it was for the best ending it but the truth is I’m still crazy about you.” Adam mumbled tucking your hair behind your ear.

If anyone could see how you were feeling on the inside they’d call you pathetic as you were grinning from ear to ear “I’m sorry for leaving you baby.” Adam sighed wrapping his arms around you as he pulled you into a hug.

You let his familiar cologne invade your nostrils as you melted into his arms “I just want you back.” Most people would have been ashamed to be that open with the guy that dumped them, but for you this was simply just what your heart needed to be brought to ease after all of those late nights crying yourself to sleep.

Adams hands went back to your chin tilting your head up to see his face eyes “you never lost me.” With those words he brought his lips down to yours.

As you felt your body grow warm at that familiar feeling of his lips on yours, you both knew that your were right back where you needed to be. With him in your arms and you in his even if it was under the lights of the Yost arena, you were both home.

[socialfakes]

the devils in the details- luke hughes

chapter 2; part 4: ziggy & copacabana

nhl x platonic!fem!reader

eventual luke hughes x fem!reader

nico hischier x fem!reader

the masterlist

Liked by trevorzegras, jamie.drysdale, lhughes_06 and 3,174 others

yourinstagram | as promised, here is proof that i still have ziggy 😊 and to make sure he’s not lonely, we got stardust (his new brother) ❤   tagged: lhughes_06, trevorzegras

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trevorzegras i never had a doubt 😊 and did you say ‘we’ then tag luke? 🧐  | yourinstagram yeah he was with me when i bought the polar bear  | trevorzegras so that would make him the father?  | yourinstagram if he’s the father of stardust, does that make you the father of ziggy? 🤨  | trevorzegras you’re damn right it does!😏 | yourinstagram i have full custody ❤

nicohischier ziggy has bed privileges & it’s insane 😂  | yourinstagram someone sounds jealous 😉❤

jackhughes ziggy & stardust? really?  | yourinstagram yeah. got a problem? 😂

lhughes_06 we agreed on shared custody, right?  | yourinstagram luke, you live in the room across from mine. there's no point in shared custody 😂

_quinnhughes guess i'm gonna have to get you a stuffed animal so you won’t forget me 👀  | yourinstagram i could never forget you ❤

user14 are you back with luke and jack?  | yourinstagram yes. got back today

user07 what’s it like living with 2 of the hottest guys ever?  | yourinstagram it’s chaotic 😂 just kidding. they’re literally the best 😊

bboeser we miss you already over on the west coast 😔

user05 these are the cutest stuffed animals i have ever seen 😍

Liked by jackhughes, nicohischier, lhughes_06 and 6,142 others

yourinstagram | alexa, play copacabana 🎶🥥   tagged: jackhughes, _quinnhughes

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jackhughes can’t tell if you like the picture or if you’re making fun of us  | yourinstagram always making fun of you specifically jack 😉

lhughes_06 where was i?  | yourinstagram inside the whole time probably  | lhughes_06 right 🙄

elblue6 I love that song!

bboeser a lake house memory?  | yourinstagram yes sir

user03 they’re so cute omg  | yourinstagram for real

user12 please post more hughes content. It seems like you have the best pics of them 😊  | yourinstagram lucky for you I have a whole folder on my phone filled with blackmail pictures of not only them, but some of our friends as well 😉

colecaufield this was my first summer at the lake house 😊

jamie.drysdale you’re lame  | yourinstagram well ouch 🥺😔💔

Liked by tdemko30, nicohischier, _quinnhughes and 5,217 others

yourinstagram | trying to figure out how to become a palm tree 🌴🤔

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bboeser i'm sorry, WHAT?!?

_quinnhughes tf? should we be concerned?

jackhughes you know i support you in everything you do but i think i need to draw the line somewhere 😂

lhughes_06 i'll join you in this journey 🌴

nicohischier your humor is top tier, babe ❤

user12 we should be concerned, right?

tdemko30 what are you going on about now? thought you were trying to figure out how to become a leprechaun 😂

trevorzegras wow that’s wild y/n

elblue6 you okay sweetie? 😲

user08 love how luke supports her and ellen is genuinely concerned 😂

jamie.drysdale all that coconut water has gone to your head darling 🙃

taglist: @worldlxvlys

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Breaking the Class Ceiling Chapter 4

This is set in early 1900s U.S.A., during the Edwardian era with some style changes into the upcoming Art Nouveau period. I've changed history a bit for this. Pretending that America didn't have a full Civil War and trying to create a more optimistic outcome for the purposes of the story. I've also tried to research what the rules for society/socializing were back then, and tweaked some of them.

Warnings for upcoming chapters: minor character death, some sexual harassment/assault (but nothing too graphic or traumatic), smut

Previous chapter Next chapter

*smut (ish) in this chapter

Rumor had quickly spread of what happened at the party, and out of embarrassment and public ridicule Rumlowe and Pierce quickly left to go out west to “find new opportunities.”  

Everyone’s attention was now fixed on the World Fair.  It started in April and was ending in December in St. Louis.  You were planning a trip and had invited multiple people in your social circle, including Steve and Bucky.

“You must come, my darling,” you cooed at him as you flitted around your drawing room, making plans and riddling off a list of things to pack to the maid who was furiously writing.

“You know I can’t afford a trip to St. Louis, my love,” Bucky sighed quietly.

“You won’t be paying for it, dearest, I will,” you announced with no room for argument.

“I can’t miss work,” he said.  “Mr. Fury has many contracts he needs me to take care of in these next few months.  The holidays are coming up, too.  I can’t take so much time off before then.”

“Oh pish posh,” you waved him off.  “You can quit your job.  I’ll pay you to be my personal escort,” you quickly twirled in front of him, “in more ways than one,” you winked at him.

Bucky laughed as the maid in the corner blanched at your innuendo.  “You’d pay me to be your date?” he asked incredulously.  “No, Y/N, besides I like my job, I need to earn my own way.”

“Ugh,” you groaned, plopping down on your knees in front of him where he sat.  He gulped.  “You are refusing my gifts again?  My darling, I told you to learn to accept my gifts.  I have plenty.  And if you must earn it,” you shuffled closer to him, setting your chin on his knee, looking up at him innocently, “then why not earn it by being the best beau to me while on vacation?”  

Bucky gulped again, watching you carefully as you sat looking up at him.  As much as he enjoyed these (mostly) private moments, they were a tease, causing a kind of itch in his lower abdomen that he more than once had to relieve when he arrived home after spending time at your house.  As if sensing his hesitation, you glanced at the maid.  “Bessy, could you give us a moment’s privacy please?”

Bessy sniffed indignantly as she booked it out of the room, closing the door behind her.  When the coast was clear you lifted your head and then placed your hands on his knees, sliding them up his thighs slowly as you gave him a doe-eyed stare.  His breath stopped as he watched you, his own hands had a death grip on the arms of the chair he sat on.  Your hands slid close to his core, which was pulsing.  He tried to shift away so you wouldn’t see but it didn’t deter you.  You scratched your fingernails down his legs as you slid your hands back down.  

“Will you come with me to St. Louis?” you asked in a voice that was feigning innocence.

Bucky’s hips stuttered as your hands started to slide up again, this time your right hand rubbing his inner thigh right next to his throbbing cock.

“Y/N, you…mmmh,” he moaned lightly, sounding strangled as he tried to stop himself.  “We can’t, it’s not…we’re not married,” he mumbled, losing coherence quickly.   

“Yet,” you corrected, your fingers sliding until they slightly stroked his cock through his pants.  He moaned again, his hand flying to your wrist to stop you.  “Will you come with me to St. Louis?” you asked again, this time standing, hiking up your dress and straddling his lap before he could stop you.  You ran your hands up his chest and wrapped your arms around his neck, dipping your head down to the crook of his neck and kissing it repeatedly.  Without much thought he brought his hands to your hips, keeping you over his cock as he cautiously rutted up into you.  Your kisses became more heated and you sucked on different spots, making Bucky’s eyes roll back in his head.  You made your way to his ear, your breath tickling his neck, then you nipped his earlobe, making him whimper lightly.  “I’m your job now, my darling,” you said in an authoritative and husky tone.  Bucky nodded.  “You’ll come with me to St. Louis,” you continued.  He nodded again, gritting his teeth as he rutted up harder into your clothed center.  “I will pay you for your troubles, since my company is apparently less important than writing contracts,” you tugged his shirt down and gave a broad lick from his collar bone to his ear, sucking on his earlobe.  He whimpered louder.

“No troubles, doll, my pretty doll, please,” he begged, his hands kneading your thighs now.  “I’ll do whatever you want, just please.”

“Please what, darling?” you teased, peppering soft kisses across his cheeks, his nose, his forehead, down his chin, and so close to his lips but without actually touching them.  

“Oh God, please, I need to, to…” he trembled beneath you as your hands stroked through his hair, scratching at the nape of his neck.

“Go ahead, darling,” you gave him permission, your lips hovering over his mouth.  You ground down on his lap a few times, which was enough for him to finally burst.  His hips shook as his head fell back, his eyes screwed shut and his mouth slack as he panted.  As he finished in his trousers he pulled you in close, setting his forehead against your forehead, noses nuzzling each other as he came down from his high.  “Very good, my love.  You’re so handsome like this,” she teased as she gave his nose a small peck.

“I love you, Y/N,” Bucky sighed, his embrace tightening around you.

You let out a sound of surprise, looking at him with wide eyes.  “I know we are not engaged, but none of what we’ve done in this courtship is traditional, so to hell with it.  I love you.  I think of you constantly.  I want nothing more than to spend every waking moment with you.”

“I feel the same, Buck,” you said, a wide smile on your face. 

“So if you want to employ me to do so, then I accept.  Though I’d happily do it for free,” he gave you a mischievous smile.  You snorted at him as you rolled your eyes.

“What’s your going rate, Barnes?” 

[gentlebilady]

I Heard There's a Special Place (a tumblr fic born out of wine and Pink Pony Club)

~“California? Okay, darling, I’ll talk to your father about taking a vacation. I’m not sure when he’ll be able to take time off work, though.” His mother was writing a grocery list, her hand swift and steady, her head coming up and down as she catalogued the contents of the kitchen and what was needed. “Hmm, I don’t know when the best time to go the West Coast is. Maybe Alice will know.” She paused for a moment, eyes unfocused. “Steven, do you need anything from the store? Mary Anne will be here soon and I need to have this list finished.” She finally looked at him, her eyes focusing and a soft smile on her face. “Are you going somewhere, dear?”

Steve, his voice and breath caught in his chest, an uncomfortable bubble that felt like it was choking him. He looked at his mom, looked down at his two suitcases, felt his backpack digging into his shoulders, and felt his courage flagging. His mother’s eyes flicked to the clock hanging on the wall. He watched as her attention started to turn away from him, toward more urgent matters, and he felt his chest expand, his mind sharpen, his courage shore up against the fear of what he needed to do.

“Mom, I’m going to California. Today. Now. I’m-,” Steve felt hot tears and a catch in his breath, “-I’m leaving. I’m moving out to California.” His heart was racing and he felt light headed. He had gotten over the hump, but now the battle was before him.

“What are you talking about, Steven? Move to California?” Theresa’s eyes took him in again, moving from his luggage, to his clenched fists, to his face. Whatever she saw had her dropping the pen and standing up straight. “Darling, what is going on? You- you want to leave? Me?” Her voice took on that familiar shake as she took a step toward him, one hand reaching for his face. Steve felt the softness of her palm, smelled the Chanel, heard the clink of her bracelets. It rung a discordant note in his brain. His hands itched to comfort her, to fall into old habits at the first sign of her distress.

“Yes. I mean, I’m not leaving you, mom, I’m just… leaving. I-,” she cut him off.

“Stevie, honey, that’s, that’s just silly! What’s out in California? You have everything here! A job, your family, a home, I don’t understand!” Her voice rose, her eyes widened. “What about your father?” she whispered.

Steve’s eyes twitched to the clock. 9:03 a.m. His father had already started his work day and wouldn’t be back for hours. Steve’s heart skipped a beat any way.

“He’ll be fine.” It was weak. “Really. I’m finally doing something on my own, forging my own path, I’m gonna,” his voice turned bitter, “live up to my potential.” Steve took a deep breath and began his recitation. “There’s a lot of opportunities out West, Mom. It’ll be good for me to strike out on my own, be my own man.” He saw her recognize the words.

“But what about your friends?” It came out choked and frantic, her eyes begging. Steve fought the flinch. He hadn’t seen Tommy, Carol, or any of their group since October, since his birthday. Three months. He buried the images that rose in his mind, let his silence echo theirs, and his mother’s eyes filled with tears. “Honey, don’t give up on them. Just apologize, I’m sure they’ll forget about – about what happened and you can go on like you used to!”

Steve’s face burned red and he barked out a laugh. “I wasn’t the one to give up.” He tilted his head to the ceiling, the tears back. “Mom, do you-,” he gulped, “-do you really think I’m the one who should be apologizing?” It came out more earnest than he’d intended. Theresa grasped both his hands.

“Oh, baby, it was an accident, you didn’t mean to. It was your birthday, you’d had a few too many drinks. I know it’s embarrassing and hard to admit you when you’re wrong, but I also know they’ll forgive you. Stevie, I-”

“So you think I need to apologize, that there’s something wrong with me.”

“NO! There’s nothing wrong with you, Steve! You’re my perfect boy. You made a mistake, that doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with you. We all make mistakes! Your father will forget about it and everything will go back to normal.”

Steve dropped her hands, took a deep breath, and said, “Mom, he’ll never forget.”

“Stevie, please, honey, you’re so young, you can’t go out on your own. You don’t know how to-”

“Mom! I’m 25! If I don’t know how to take care of myself at this point I’d say it’s about damn time I figured it out!” Theresa gasped and Steve took a pause. “I’m sorry, mom, but you have to agree that I’m an adult.” With a quivering chin, she nodded, her arms wrapping around herself, looking small and frail. Steve saw her, remembered all the past years of her, and hugged her tight. “I love you, mom. I’ll miss you. I will call you. I’ll be fine.” She grasped him in strong hands, holding on as he pulled away, his jacket slipping slowly from her grip.

Steve stooped to grab his suitcase handles, using the moment to recenter himself. This goodbye felt all wrong. He had hoped, perhaps foolishly, that his mother would understand and, if not encourage him, she would support his decision. But this turned out so different that what he’d imagined. He felt like he’d broken his mother’s heart (again). He walked to the front door, cases bumping against his legs, feeling a thousand pounds heavier than before this started. Before he stepped over the threshold, he turned to his mom, hoping for a bolt of inspiration, something to say to her that would explain everything he was feeling and thinking and hoping, something that would make her understand and even agree with his decision. Nothing came.

“Goodbye, momma.”~

So, I definitely feel like I'm gonna shit myself posting this. But I just had so much writing it! Is this always what it feels like to post something you've written??? It feels like when I sang in my first recital. I always said, "I'm not a singer," as a way to protect myself from the judgment of others. Then my vocal coach was like, "J, you ARE a singer. You're singing right now." I'd like to write more. I used to write for fun all the time, loved taking creative writing classes, but the school system quickly shuttles you into a "path" that means you take your gen eds and whatever extra curriculars will help you on that "path", so writing lost it's place to drama and chorus.

Anyway, if you made it this far, Hi! Thanks for reading and I'm sorry for the stream of consciousness.

P.S. I did next to no editing. Apologies.

[foundtherightwords]

The Hollow Heart - Chapter 3

Pairing: Hellcheer, Gothic AU

Summary: To escape her mother's control and the stifling society of Gilded Age New York, heiress Christabel Cunningham impulsively marries Henry Creel, a charming and seductive stranger, and accompanies him to his remote mansion on the West Coast. There, as Henry grows cold and cruel, Christabel must uncover her husband's sinister secret before it's too late. But can she trust Kas, her husband's enigmatic assistant, who seems to be her only ally in this strange place, or is Kas's loyalty to his master stronger than his attraction to Christabel?

Chapter warnings: none (unless you count some controlling behavior from Mrs. Cunningham and Jason)

Chapter word count: 4.1k

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2

Chapter 3 - The Mighty Spell

"Have you lost your mind?" Mrs. Cunningham said. "I won't allow it!"

Christabel sighed. She knew this was how her mother would react to the news of her engagement, but there was a small part of her that still hoped and wished that her mother could have been happy for her.

"You've mistaken my meaning, Mother," she said, with as much calmness and dignity as she could muster. "I'm not asking for your blessing. I'm simply informing you. I am twenty-three years old, I don't need your permission to get married. And Henry and I are getting married, whether you like it or not."

"I am your mother!" hissed Mrs. Cunningham, glancing at the closed door of their suite, looking out for eavesdropping servants. "And I won't let you marry some upstart nobody! Why, his father could have been one of those gold hunters!" She closed her eyes briefly, the idea of her daughter marrying the son of a prospector too horrifying for her to contemplate. "I will lock you up if I have to!"

"You've used that threat once too often, Mother," said Christabel coldly. "Aren't you afraid of what people will say?"

Mrs. Cunningham sputtered in outrage, and Christabel's heart pounded with exhilaration. She had never been able to speak to her mother like that, but now, when freedom was so close she could practically taste it, it had given her a boost of courage. But her triumph was short-lived, for a vindictive glint came into her mother's eyes, and she said slowly, "Mrs. Carver told me Jason has made you an offer."

"Yes, and I refused him," Christabel said warily. Her mother was planning something, and she didn't like it. "Didn't Mrs. Carver tell you that?"

"She did," her mother continued in that same awful, calm voice. "But I told her it was just silliness. Now that you've had time to think it over, you have accepted him, and we're going to announce your engagement at the ball tonight."

Now Christabel thought it was her mother who had lost her mind. "What are you—"

"What would it look like then, when you run off to marry someone else? Aren't you afraid of what people will say?"

Christabel stared. She didn't imagine her mother could be this extreme in her control. "You would humiliate your own daughter?" she asked in disbelief.

Her mother was all smiles and sweetness now. "I'm only doing what's best for you, darling."

"Jason would never agree to it," Christabel said, desperate to regain some control.

"He already did," her mother said smugly. "Now go and try on your costume. I'll send a maid up to help you." She went out, and Christabel heard the lock click shut. So her mother had locked her in, for good measure.

Alone, Christabel slumped down on the bed and let the tears of anger and desperation flow down her face. They were all ganging up on her, including Jason. By publicly announcing the engagement, they would force her into it, binding her hands and silencing her voice just like a kidnapped bride of some savage land, and she didn't know if she had the strength to stand up to all three of them. If only she had Henry with her! Could she risk bribing one of the maids again? Or—who was that servant of his, the strange, rather impertinent young man? Perhaps she could find him and ask him to bring Henry a message...

But Christabel never had the chance to write a message, let alone to send one, for her mother didn't leave her alone for a moment that entire day. She hovered over Christabel, ordering the maid to tighten Christabel's corset so she could fit into her costume, and telling Christabel to stick to the soup at lunch if she still wanted it to fit by that evening. And then she spent the rest of the day supervising the maids in packing their trunks—they were returning to New York the next day—in a state of false cheerfulness that oppressed and infuriated Christabel, like a summer storm that refused to break. Christabel thought about feigning a headache or illness to avoid going to the ball, but it wouldn't change a thing—her mother would still announce the engagement, with or without her. She held on to the hope that perhaps, when he found no message from her, Henry would know something was wrong and come to her rescue... But what could he do? No, she couldn't count on that. It would be best to steel herself for the inevitable and stand up for herself, if she could.

She tried to think of what she would say to the announcement. What my mother said is not true. I have rejected Mr. Carver, and I have no intention of marrying him. In fact, I am engaged to someone else... Too much? I'm sorry, my mother seemed to have been mistaken—No, she shouldn't place the blame on her mother. That would only worsen her mother's ire. I'm sorry, there seems to have been a mistake. I was honored by Mr. Carver's offer, but... Should she mention Jason at all? Her mother had said he was going along with this farce, but perhaps that was a lie to convince Christabel that it was no use fighting back. Should she fight fire with fire and preemptively announce her engagement to Henry before her mother could announce the sham one? But without Henry there, she would look rather foolish, wouldn't she?

Christabel's legs were shaky as she descended the stairs in her costume—a red velvet dress with long puffed sleeves and a huge lace ruff framing her neck and face, the skirt split open to show a petticoat of gold satin. The dress was trimmed with gold hearts, and a bejeweled girdle made of red hearts encircled her waits. Her hair was done up under a red velvet-and-gold crown, and a scepter also in the shape of a red heart in her hand completed the look. It was ostentatious and heavy and not at all to Christabel's taste, who would prefer to go as Psyche or a fairy, but she'd decided it wasn't worth it to fight her mother on this.

The Carvers' enormous ballroom was thronged with people and ablaze with light. The candle flames reflected on the silk and satin of the guests' costumes and on the jewels—both real and paste—that adorned their heads and necks and wrists, casting brilliant flecks over everything, dazzling Christabel's tired eyes, so she could not see who was dressed as what. The orchestra was striking up a quadrille. Someone took Christabel's hand and drew her into the circle. She danced along other young men and women, following the steps mechanically without seeing who her partner was. All she could think about was the announcement and what she was going to say. I'm sorry, there seems to have been a mistake. I have rejected Mr. Carver, and have no intention of marrying him—I'm sorry, there seems to have been a mistake. I am engaged to someone else—I'm sorry, I can't—I'm sorry—

It all sounded so clumsy, so childish. What was she apologizing for? None of this was her fault.

Then the quadrille was over, a polka began, and Christabel found herself dancing with Jason, who was dressed as Louis XVI.

"What's this I hear about our mothers planning to announce our engagement tonight?" she asked him, without preamble.

Jason was slightly taken aback by her accusing tone, but he soon recovered. "Your mother said that she could convince you to change your mind," he replied with a placating smile.

At that smile, any hope Christabel had of turning Jason into an ally vanished. "So all of you just go around deciding my life for me? Am I not a person, with my own thoughts and feelings and opinions? Or they just don't matter?" She realized she was getting loud, and people's heads were starting to turn toward her. She forced herself to lower her voice. "Why don't I just attach strings to my limbs so you can jerk me around like a puppet?" she hissed.

Jason's arms tightened around her. "Come now, Chrissy dear—don't be like that—"

"Don't call me Chrissy!"

She pried his hand from her waist and turned away, but the dancers closed in around her, a crowd of kings and queens, of French marquises and Oriental princesses, of cats and demons and birds of paradise, their eyes staring inquisitively, their mouths whispering gossip behind their fans or gloved hand, all blocking her way. The ballroom was a gilded cage, and she was trapped in it.

Suddenly, the crowd parted. Coming toward her was a figure dressed all in red—red brocade doublet and hose, red stockings and shoes, and a red velvet hooded cloak. An hourglass shape, half-red and half-black, adorned his chest. Nobody at the ball wore mask, but this person's forehead and nose was covered by a half-mask in the shape of a skull. Red spots splattered the lower half of his face like blood. The figure caught Christabel and whirled her into the next dance, a waltz.

"Excuse me, sir, but I'm not interested—" she tried to say.

"Hush, my dear Christabel," the figure said. "We are being observed." Her heart leaped at that rich, melodious voice. So he had come after all!

"Henry!" she exclaimed, almost sobbing with relief. "I wanted to send you a message, but I couldn't—"

"I know, my love, I know," he said, caressing her arm. "That's why I came. It took me a while to find the appropriate costume though. Do you like it?"

Though worried about their predicament, she couldn't help feeling thrilled at the way he called her my love. She ran an appraising eye over his costume. "What are you supposed to be?"

"The Red Death, from The Masque of the Red Death. Did you not recognize it?"

"Oh! Of course." She lifted up her red velvet skirt. "Look, we're matching!"

"And you are—?"

"The Queen of Hearts. You know, like in a deck of cards." She rolled her eyes. Now that Henry was here, all her fear was gone. "So silly. My mother insisted on it."

A strange smile spread across Henry's red-splattered lips. "The Queen of Hearts. Of course you are. How fitting."

She didn't ask him what he meant. "Listen, we don't have much time—" Maneuvering him through the crowd to the edge of the ballroom, where they could have a modicum of privacy, she gave him a brief summary of her mother's intention. "I believe they're going to announce it after the firework display," she concluded. "What are we going to do?"

Henry's eyes, brilliant blue behind the red polished surface of his mask, were thoughtful. "Do you want a big wedding?" he asked.

Christabel frowned at the non-sequitur, but she answered anyway. "No." Most of her friends dreamed of big lavish weddings with white satin and lace and pearls and orange blossoms, but none of it had ever mattered to her. "Why do you ask?"

"Then we can get married tomorrow morning, if you so wish."

Understanding dawned in her mind. "You mean—eloping?" she whispered.

He nodded, his smile widening under his skull mask. "We'll slip away tonight, get married in New York tomorrow morning, and be on the train back to San Francisco before they know it."

Christabel's heart hammered. By this time tomorrow, she would be Mrs. Creel and on her way to San Francisco! It sounded almost too good to be true.

"But"—she glanced back at her mother, who was watching her from the corner of the room with the other chaperones, a mistrustful frown on her face—"how are we to slip away?"

"I have a car at Brenner's," said Henry. "But we can't leave now, it will look suspicious. Before supper, I'll go and bring the car around. When the fireworks start, meet me by the back gate. They're all going to be looking up at the sky then, nobody will notice."

The waltz ended. Henry gave her hand a brief squeeze to lend her some courage, and slipped into the crowd.

Mrs. Cunningham questioned Christabel about her mysterious partner, of course, but she only answered vaguely that he was some friend of Jason's and danced the next three dances with Jason to soothe her mother's suspicion. All the while she kept her eyes fixed on Henry's red hood as he moved amongst the other dancers, praying that her mother wouldn't suddenly decide to make the announcement earlier than planned.

When Mrs. Carver clapped her hands and the orchestra stopped playing, Christabel's heart almost stopped as well, as she was certain they had decided to make the announcement early after all. But no, Mrs. Carver was only inviting people to go in for supper. Christabel searched for Henry. There he was, standing on the very edge of the crowd. He gave her a subtle nod before disappearing through a side door.

Christabel hardly knew what she was eating at supper. The meal seemed to go on forever, and every time Mrs. Carver or her mother or Jason stood up, her body would grow numb and cold with fear. But eventually supper was over, and people started drifting outside for the firework display. Christabel hung back until she was certain her mother was with the others, and then she ran upstairs and into her room.

She didn't give herself time to think. If she thought about what she was about to do, she would lose heart and never be able to go through with it. Thank God they had packed! She tore off her satin-and-velvet costume, heedless of the glass hearts on the girdle, which tinkled as she tossed it on the floor, and removed the ridiculous crown from her head. She threw on the traveling suit that had been laid out for the next day and picked up the valise containing some changes of clothes and her traveling case with some essentials. Did she need more? How long did it take to travel to San Francisco? Should she pack more? There was no time for that now. Had the fireworks already started?

She scribbled a few lines to let her mother know she'd left, without saying where or with whom—her mother could work that out easily enough—and put it on the desk. Then, valise and case in hand, she cracked open the door and looked down the long hallway, just as the tip of her mother's Duchess of Burgundy headdress with its fluttering veil came up the stairs. Christabel's blood froze in her veins. Was her mother coming to check on her? Either way, she could not possibly go down the same way now. What to do? What to do?

Locking herself in the room, Christabel turned around like a caged bird, frantically searching for a way out. Her eyes fell on the large elm growing outside the window. One of its branches almost reached the window sill. If she climbed onto the branch, she would be able to slide down the trunk...

Her mother was moving about in the room next door. She may come into Christabel's room any moment.

She threw the valise through the window and thanked God when it fell soundlessly on the grass below. Then, gripping the traveling case with one hand, she gathered up her skirts with the other and lifted herself on the windowsill. From here, she realized that the branch was much smaller than she'd thought. Would it hold? Only one way to find out. She stepped across the gap onto the branch. One foot, and then another, and then—

Her foot slipped. She reached out—for the window frame behind her or the tree trunk in front of her—but her hands only found thin air. The world tipped over, and Christabel fell, the canopy of the elm quickly receding over her head and the ground rushing up to meet her at an alarming speed—

She was too startled to scream. She only shut her eyes tightly and waited for the inevitable, sickening crunch of her body hitting the ground.

It never came.

Instead, there was only a jolt, and then a heavy grunt. It took Christabel a moment to realize someone had caught her, and the grunt was her own, made by the air being knocked out of her lungs as she fell into the arms of her rescuer.

She opened her eyes. In place of Henry's blue ones, she found herself looking into the dark, dark eyes of the strange young man who had introduced himself as Henry's servant. For a second, when their eyes met, Christabel felt as though the air had been knocked out of her again.

Then fireworks burst over their heads, breaking them both out of the spell.

"You all right, miss?" the dark-eyed man asked.

"Y-yes, thank you."

"Can you walk?"

"I— I don't know." She wasn't injured, but the rush from the fall had left her weak and trembling.

"Then, with your permission, miss, I'll carry you to the car. Mr. Creel is waiting."

She nodded. He leaned down to pick up her valise and traveling case, and, with Christabel in his arms, walked to the back gate in long, easy strides. For a confused moment, Christabel was reminded of the day she first met Henry—had it only been two weeks ago?—and the same matter-of-fact way that he had picked her up and carried her. The only difference was that this young man had asked for her permission first.

A small two-seat roadster was parked by the back gate of the Carver mansion. Henry was in one of the seats, waiting. He'd changed back into his usual clothes, though there were still some red spots on his jaw and chin. The man put Christabel next to Henry, placed her cases at her feet, and took the driver's seat. Soon the car was rolling down the path through the trees, while the fireworks continued to flash and crackle on the sky above, their boom and the pop of the car engine unable to drown out the the delighted oohs and aahs of the revelers.

"I thought you'd changed your mind," Henry said, hugging Christabel close.

"She had a fall, sir," the dark-eyed man said on her other side. "She's a bit shook up."

"All's well now," said Henry. "I see that you've met my assistant, Kas."

The dark-eyed man—Kas, what an odd name—nodded at Christabel briefly. "Please to make your acquaintance, Miss Cunningham," he said, before turning his attention back to the road.

"Soon to be Mrs. Creel, Kas," Henry corrected him, laughing. "Soon to be Mrs. Creel. Isn't that right, darling?"

Christabel was still too dazed after her fall to answer, and she was unsettled by something she thought she'd glimpsed in Kas's eyes when he glanced at her—something almost like pity. It reminded her of his enigmatic words the day he'd brought her Henry's message. I wouldn't go if I were you... But surely she'd imagined it. What did he have to pity her about? He didn't know her, and besides, she was on her way to marry the love of her life. What was to be pitied about that?

"Did you bring this car all the way from San Francisco?" she asked Henry, to change the subject.

"No, it's Brenner's. But he doesn't have much use for it now, does he?" Henry grinned and winked at her. She smiled back, though she didn't see much humor in the situation. "I do have my own car in Frisco though, a much better one," he continued. "You'll see."

They hadn't gone far from the Carver mansion when Henry suddenly called out, "Stop!"

Kas pulled the car over by a bend on the road. Christabel looked around, confused. "Why are we stopping?"

Henry grabbed her hand. "Come. There's something I want to show you."

"We don't have time—my mother may have already realized that I'm missing and raised the alarm—"

"It will take but a minute."

Christabel let him drag her through the woods to a clearing. A crescent moon shone its silvery light over the ivy covering the ground. Startled, she recognized this was the same clearing where Henry had proposed, where the ruins of his family's cottage still stood. She hoped somebody had removed the dead hare.

"Here." Henry pulled something out of his pocket. It was the same piece of stained glass she'd helped him find amongst the stones, the one depicting a rose, now polished and attached to a chain to form a necklace. "I had this made for you." He put the chain over her head and settled the rose on her chest. "I know it's not a ring, but I wanted to give it to you, because, well, because it's half yours, really. You found it."

Christabel lifted the stained glass pendant to examine it more clearly. "It's beautiful. Thank you."

Henry clasped her hands in his, closing her fingers around the pendant. "We have this tradition in our family," he said, "that the bride and groom will have a separate Celtic ceremony and exchange their own vows, in keeping with our roots, before the church ceremony. We can't have much of a ceremony here, but I can't think of a better place to exchange those vows, do you agree?"

His eyes were shining with a fervent light, and Christabel, caught up in his excitement, found herself excited as well.

"What are the vows?" she asked.

"Repeat after me," Henry said. "Heart bound to heart, soul bound to soul. I pledge to you my life and undying love. I'm yours, my body, my spirit, my being whole."

"Heart bound to heart, soul bound to soul. I pledge to you my life and undying love. I'm yours, body and spirit, my being whole," Christabel repeated, trying to suppress a delighted giggle, not wishing to ruin the moment with her girlish nervousness. How terribly romantic. Not just an elopement, but a secret pagan ritual in the middle of the woods, under the moon as well! Oh, wouldn't Mother throw a fit if she knew!

A red glow seemed to emanate from the pendant clasped between her palms, but when Christabel opened her hands and looked again, it was gone. Under the moonlight, the rose wasn't even red—it looked almost black, like volcanic rock. She must've imagined it, or it had been a flash from the fireworks.

"In the eyes of my ancestors, that means we are married now," Henry said, leaning forward to kiss her. "Nothing else matters."

They ran back to the car. Kas started the engine, and they flew down the road back to New York, as the last of the fireworks died out over their heads.

They arrived at Manhattan just as the city was waking up. The electric streetlamps were still burning, but they were already dimming in the approaching gray light of dawn, and workers were filling up the streets, ready to start their day. Kas dropped them off in front of a chapel and headed to the station to secure their passages on a train to San Francisco, while they waited for the chapel to open.

It was probably because she was too tired, but Christabel didn't remember much of the ceremony—afterward, in her mind, the memory was forever shrouded in the grayish light and fog of a Manhattan autumn morning. What she did remember was the minister being rather grumpy about having to perform a marriage ceremony first thing upon waking up. She remembered, too, how Henry had brought in two men who were on their way to work to act as witnesses, and how he gave them each a silver dollar once the ceremony was over. But what she'd said, what Henry had said, how he'd looked when he slipped the gold band over her finger—when had he found the time to buy a wedding ring?—and how she'd felt at that moment, it was all a blur.

Then Henry called a cab, which hurried them to Grand Central, and Christabel was bundled into a compartment. She barely had time to remove her hat before collapsing onto a bed and promptly falling asleep to the soothing rhythm of the train as it rolled westward, taking her toward a life new and unknown.

Chapter 4

[megan0013]

week 1 - dystopia

Arcadia’s defense systems are some of the best in the country. The walls around the town are high and sturdy, their arsenal of weapons well-stocked and diverse thanks to a successful raid on Area 49-B, and, oh yeah, they have advanced technology only aliens have ever seen before. Because there are aliens in Arcadia. And a coven of very capable witches and wizards. And a legion of gnomes that have sworn absolute fealty to The Town Council after some incredibly difficult negotiations involving dream houses, nougat nummies, and a full-time hat maker.

And there’s the Trollhunter

His warnings are the reason the citizens of Arcadia were able to defend themselves after Gunmar’s hoards had taken the east coast and started making their way west from New Jersey. Without him, they never would have built the wall in time or stockpiled munitions and non-perishable food. They wouldn’t have known anything about weak spots in gumm-gumm armor and how to take advantage of them, or the typical battle strategies the troll army employed. And they certainly couldn’t have designed the vast, complex system of tunnels and traps that had been used to obliterate whole legions in one fell swoop.

Of course, that’s probably because he’d once been a very prominent tactician in the Skullcrusher’s army.

Not that many Arcadians know this about him. His wife and stepson do, obviously, and a handful of close family friends, but to everyone else he’s just Walter – the guy who loves puns and used to teach history at the high school before everything went to hell. They don’t know he’s one of those scummy changelings or that his armor isn’t the real reason he can switch forms. And why should they? Most people have only ever seen him become a troll when Daylight is in his hand. If they want to believe his stone skin is just a byproduct of being named the Trollhunter, then so be it.

The trolls in Trollmarket, though... Well, they know exactly what he is.

It was a tough sell at first, being accepted, but gaining Vendel’s approval and introducing his small family had gone a long way in earning their respect. Draal loudly declaring he’d only had Jim for a day and half but if anything happened to him he would kill everyone in the room and then himself hadn’t hurt, either.

The few who remained wary of him eventually left for what they thought were greener pastures, or quickly changed their tune in the aftermath of Gunmar’s escape from the Darklands.

And now, after three years of successfully leading trolls and humans alike, the Trollhunter’s judgement has been called into question by his own wife.

At least, that’s what it feels like to him.

“Stalklings aren’t pets, Barbara! They are killing machines.”

Barbara, however, doesn’t look the least bit impressed by her husband’s outburst as she continues strolling through the stable of what was once a petting zoo but is now home to a clutch of brand new stalkling pups and their mother. “Just because you’ve had a few unfortunate encounters with them, doesn’t mean they’re all bad. I mean, seriously. Look at that cute little face.”

The stalkling in question does not have a cute little face. Not at all. In fact, she’s got blood-red eyes and an ugly gray head and terrifyingly large teeth.

“It literally tried to eat you at the supermarket,” Walter says, watching incredulously as Barbara takes the great winged beast’s beak into her hands for a scratch. “You still have the scar on your leg from where it bit you.”

“We surprised her, that’s all. Persephone would never hurt me on purpose. Would you, my sweet girl?”

“Persephone? You named it?” Walter huffs out a sigh, fingers going to pinch the bridge of his nose in obvious frustration. “Darling, you can’t name them. Now we’ll never be rid of it.”

Barbara raises a brow. “That’s sorta the point, Walt.”

Persephone snorts in agreement.

“And, anyway,” his wife continues with a gentle peck to Persephone’s beak, “Jim wants a vespa or a puppy for his birthday, so…”

Walter blinks.

Barbara bats her eyelashes.

Walter frowns. “That’s not a vespa, nor is it a dog.”

“Oh, no, babe. Of course, not. But since all the scooters have been stripped for parts and I’m allergic to dog hair, I thought, well,” she grins and gestures to the five pups chirping away in the corner of the stall, “these little guys might be the perfect gift.”

The Trollhunter whimpers, knowing deep down in his heart that he’s already lost this particular battle and he's about to become the proud grandfather of not one, but five baby stalklings.

“Besides,” Barbara pats his cheek before pressing a kiss to it, “he can’t have Persephone. She’s my pet.”

[lovebombs4life]

5sos Masterlist:

smut - ❤️‍🔥

fluff - 🩵

angst - ❤️‍🩹

Luke:

you don’t go to parties - 🩵❤️‍🩹

corruption - ❤️‍🔥

beach day - ❤️‍🔥

heartbreak girl - 🩵❤️‍🩹

love of my life - 🩵

animosity - ❤️‍🔥

new romantics - 🩵 (blurb)

burnt toast - 🩵

between friends - 🩵❤️‍🔥❤️‍🩹

sweet boy - ❤️‍🔥

“slut!” - ❤️‍🔥🩵❤️‍🩹

why are you here? - ❤️‍🔥

honey whiskey - ❤️‍🔥

‘tis the damn season - 🩵❤️‍🔥

Calum:

the story of us - 🩵

best friend - ❤️‍🔥

hormones - 🩵

second date - 🩵❤️‍🔥

daydreaming - ❤️‍🔥

tear you apart - ❤️‍🔥

oxytocin - ❤️‍🔥

paper rings - 🩵 (blurb)

is it over now? - ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🔥🩵

Ashton:

english love affair - ❤️‍🔥

you are in love 🩵 (blurb)

west coast - ❤️‍🔥

cheer up - ❤️‍🔥

first - ❤️‍🔥🩵

Michael:

treat you - ❤️‍🔥 (blurb)

sex ed - ❤️‍🔥

stay - ❤️‍🩹 (blurb)

pay back - ❤️‍🔥

all i wanted - ❤️‍🩹🩵

wildest dreams - ❤️‍🔥

darling - 🩵 (blurb)

[dani-the-goblin]

I’ve Never Been Good At Speaking Your Language (But At Least I Gotta Try)

Ahem

I'll do whatever it takes to get it through to you

And I guess that I could go it alone well if I had to

I guess it’s been a while since I had nothing to do

And I got the point that I should leave you alone

I know you want me to want you, I want to

Every night, I'm dreaming I could hold you

And hey, darling, I hope you're good tonight

I'm climbing in your window to get to your bed

The sight of your eyes got inside of my head

I just feel complete when you're by my side

Maybe you could get some sleep tonight

Every time I wake up all alone

I swear that you don't have to go

And spend a summer on the west coast

I said, "Please understand I've been drinking again and all I do is hope"

I haven't slept very well since the last time that we spoke

Then I swear to you that we can make this last

Here's the map and the pen, the place you pointed at

And it's cold in my apartment

Said you'd never leave

And you smiled the whole way through it

Lost in all the music that you hear

For such a simple little whore

I never thought I'd be in this far

You brought your worst, and I'm right here

Starts with a spark, then it's a wildfire

And the only thing that matters isn't here

My life's turned upside down

I hate this town

And all my friends don't give a fuck

'Cause I'm high and I don't wanna come down

Hoping you might call

Oh well, oh well, I still hope for the best

Brace for impact

Meet me out past the train tracks

Any moment could be my last

Without you, I'll be miserable at best

Waiting for the answers

Searching for a sign

I said I'd never let you go, and I never did

I said I'd never let you fall and I always meant it

All the love's still there, I just don't know what to do with it now

If you didn't have this chance then I never did

Pourin' out my heart, all that's unforgiven

'Cause our time's worth something

You and me, we stand for something

I need constant reminders of everything

And I'd give my heart as an offering, an offering

We'd laugh at the stars, and we'd share everything

Then you screamed the bridge

I made you a present with paper and string

'Cause I'm not here for nothing

Have faith in me

And I'd be blessed by the light of your company

Just breathe

And I know that you don't wanna be leaving me

Cause nothing feels like home, you're a thousand miles away

You were the greatest thing that ever happened to me

So sing along for me, baby

I can tell by your eyes that you're in love with me

Since you been gone

And my diamond ring's thrown out to sea

'Till heaven calls, keep holding on

You know that I love you -

[imagine-silk]

Could you do Yandere Curie with a Darling that wants to travel and explore the wasteland of North America with her, from not only east coast to west coast, but also Canada, the Midwest, South, the Great Plains, everything interesting with only the two of them? Could you also have Darling be a Courser that wanted to start a new life after the institute was destroyed, so both of them are Synths who don't Age?

》Sorry this took a while, I've been indisposed to put it lightly.

Curie is pre-war, yes, but she wasn't made to go outside. She knows as much as the average person back then.

Even if running around is not her idea she supports it wholeheartedly. All she hears is you are going to be with her alone for the unforeseeable future because the world is a big place. And as far as she knows you'll be wandering around for the rest of time.

To make the time even longer she'll make up places. She swears there was a monument of Sole and it was in the south region. She really really wants to see it. Then there's the world's longest stump. Not the biggest. The longest.

You're not safe by any means however. Though that could be said for a number of reasons. Synths are still a strange thing and have proven dangerous after the Institute was destroyed. Taking away someone's life, their home, doesn't breed good will. Not all of the synths wanted to leave.

Money isn't an issue. Curie is the wasteland's best doctor and there was no shortage of people with boo-boos. Sometimes she'll even rip people off by saying she has short supply so it cost extra. Not very ethical but her main priority was you and you needed money to stay happy, healthy.

When you can you travel with caravans. They share food, water, shelter, and company. Though if anyone gets a little too cozy she won't take too kindly to it. Very bluntly she'll threaten them so casually it's hard to tell if she's serious. She is and you have to stand in to say so.

There is also the issue of age. You'll never die of age but if you see other's too long you'll see them age while you don't. It'll hurt on all sides. But that's why Curie keeps you moving once she figured that out.

Years will go by in the blink of an eye. Another few years you see MacCready, a gray-haired mercenary who's skill is almost unmatched. And he's not amused when he sees the two of you. But catching up is nice.

Somehow everyone you once knew is long dead and you've not seen everything because Curie keeps making the list longer and longer. At a certain point you lose track of time trying to keep her reigned in. And that's what she wants. You are all hers.

[withlovegvf]

west coast baby | Jake Kiszka

jake kiszka x fem!reader

summary: Jake sees how at home you are at the beach in your small coastal hometown.

jakes pov

"Stop looking at me like that." Yn throws her sugar packet wrapper in my face and I flinch. "What I can't admire my girlfriend? That's rude." I laugh and yn rolls her eyes. "You can look at me all you want. But not like that. It makes me blush."

"What way am I looking at you!?!" Yn smiles and take a sip of her iced coffee. "You're looking at me like 'Ugh I just love you so much' and you're not allowed to. It makes me blush." I smile and grab her hand across the table. "Oh but what if that is the whole point?" yn slaps my hand.

Our food comes and we start talking about what we want to do after brunch. "Well I wanna go to this thrift store owned by this really nice old man named Frank to see what he has. Then I wanna go swimming at the beach for a bit. Does that sound good baby?" I nod, rubbing my thumb over her hand I grabbed again. "Yeah that's fine with me. I need some new pirate apparel. Does Frank have some of that?" Yn give me a big smirk. "Oh for sure" We giggle and after we finish eating we pay and go to the convertible we rented for the week. I open yn's door for her with a peck to her cheek then go to the drivers side.

As we drive down the beautiful California coast, my hand is resting on yns thigh and she rests her hand on top of mine. Sex on Fire by Kings of Leon comes on and yn holds her hands up in the wind with her hair blowing, belting the lyrics. Yn loves Nashville but seeing her be her carefree, sunkissed, beach girl she is at heart when we come to visit her home is like nothing else.

Once we get to 'Franks Coastal Finds' I help Yn out of the front seat and walk hands intertwined into the front door. "Awh whattaday it is at Franks! Ms. Yn has come to visit her favorite old man! How are you darling." Yn lets go of me and gives the man I assume is Frank a big hug. Frank is a super tall, beer bellied man with a big beard and a bright red Hawaiian shirt on. "Hi Frankie it is so good to see you. Frank this is Jake, my boyfriend." Frank looks at me and holds a hand out me. I give it a firm shake. "Nice to meet you Jake. You treatin my Yn right?" I nod "Of course. Nothing but the best for my girl."

Frank nods his head. "Attaboy, that's what I like to hear. Well you two take a look around. See if any of my junk speaks to you" We laugh and start looking around. I'm looking through his tables of small trinkets while yn looks though his racks of women's clothing. I found a small trinket pirate ship that is super cool and yn found a few skirts and tops.

"Y'all ready to check out?" "Yes sir." I set all our stuff on the counter and Frank checks is out. As he is typing our purchases in the very old cash register, Frank asks, "What is your plan for the rest of the day youngins?" "well I wanna go to crystal cove for a bit before the sun starts going down so I'll think we will go there." yn says as she picks up our bag of stuff. "Alrighty! you guys have fun ya hear?" Yn smiles waving behind her as she walks out the door. "Bye Frank!"

We get into the car and I say, "Well he was a really nice guy." Yn nods her head. "Yeah Frank is the sweetest. You ready to go swimming for a bit? Get that suit under your clothes wet?" I nod, rolling my eyes at her comment and start driving to the Crystal Cove place yn wanted to go to. "Jake don't be such fun sucker. We'll have fun i promise." I look at her and wiggle my eyebrows in a flirty way. "Oh yeah, you promise?" Yn hits my arm and giggles at my comment.

Once we get to the beach we park and find the perfect spot on the sand and set up our stuff. The sun is about to set so the sky is gorgeous. "Come on baby let's get in." Yn let me sunbathe for about twenty minutes but now she's tugging my arm towards the water. I groan and drop all my body weight so she can't lift me up. "Baby pleaseeeee." "Ugh fine, fine, fine!" I stand up and yn start jumping up and down from excitement and wraps her arms around my neck. "Yay! let's go baby!" Yn holds my hand as i trail behind her into the water.

Once we reach the water i stay up by the coast with just my feet in and yn is floating on her back farther out. The water is cool and calm just how she likes it. Seeing her in this tiny town that is her home that she loves so much reminds me how much she means to me. I never want to miss these trips with her and i never wanna experience any of life without her. "Get in babe! the water is perfect!" I smile and walk over to her. She's still floating and I stand over her and just look down at her.

"Hey who turned off the sun?!" She take her sunglasses off and opens her eyes. "Oh, look who decided to join me." I smile and lean down and peck her lips. "What was that for?" She smiles, "Nothing. I just love you and seeing you so at home." Yn smiles and stands up wrapping her arms around my neck.

"I love you too ya big sap!"

.....

Ugh sorry i haven't been putting out as many updates as I was a few weeks ago but I'm working on it! also i feel like struggle writing long imagines like some like my attention span cannot...anyways i'll try harder to write longer ones!

-withlovegvf