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dipperscavern · 2 months

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yes dippy we should talk about bi cregan with bi reader!!

imagine them recruiting northern hotties for threesomes 🤭

mmf: cregan with another man (preferably jace) giving her that double worship. cregan always has the upper hand ofc even when it's not a twink but another big broody northern they're sharing their bed with. and when cregan gets to top him while he eats her out and she holds eye contact with cregan as he's fucking that guy.

ffm: it's either the same way that she is the center of attention OR cregan and her tagteam that other woman and fuck her stupid. cregan with his big fat uncut cock and her with her tongue and fingers while cregan fucks the other woman.

- respectful anon

pairing: cregan stark x jacaerys velaryon x reader

authors note: oh respectful anon… i read (preferably jace) and absolutely shuddered. oh my god . i’m sorry the other ideas in here are wonderful too i just have to get this out before i go off my rocker

jacaerys arriving in the north, bearing the colors of queen rhaenyra, and being greeted by cregan stark — and his comely wife.

he can feel his breath hitch as soon as he slides off vermax and spots you, arm wrapped around cregans bicep. even though the snow crunches under his boots and the early winter winds seep beneath his clothing, jace feels his skin run hot. and this time, he cannot blame it on the blood of the dragon.

once you approach, jace gives you both a respectful nod of his head, before cregan greets jacaerys with a firm handshake. jace takes your hand, kissing your knuckles, and says the tales do not do your beauty (they don’t). you only smile, dipping into a small curtsy and playfully telling him not to make you blush.

he spares a glance at cregan, a small worry of overstepping dancing in his gaze, but cregan only nods — a smirk adorning the lord of winterfells lips.

the very lips that have grown accustomed to the feel of yours.

the thought is shooed away as quickly as it arises. you’re married, and jace feels a pang of disappointment at the places his mind has a tendency to wander to. you’re extending your hospitality to him, he won’t disrespect you with such concepts (won’t he?).

once having vermax sorted, you & cregan then escort him to winterfell. cregan speaks of the north and its history, and jace replies when necessary, but he finds his gaze drifting from the lord of winterfell, and landing on the lady attracted to his side instead. jace, no matter how much internal scolding, finds himself ceaselessly returning to quietly study (admire) your features.

as you enter the castle, jace notices your cheeks are flushed from the cold. cregan, mid sentence, silently ushers you towards the nearest hall fire with the unforeseen hand on the small of your back. something unfamiliar stirs in him at the sight (want).

they swore vows to each other in sight of the northern gods, chides jaces inner voice.

but, no matter how much restraint he expresses, as his stay continues, he finds himself enamored.

enamored with the playful glimmer in your eyes, the way your hips sway as you walk, how your dress hugs your curves, your light teasing, your love for lemon cakes, how you always catch jacaerys’ eye even from across the room. he’s utterly, hopelessly enthralled.

and even worse, he’s given himself away

you, jace, and cregan have been proper. careful not to overstep, but aware enough to silently acknowledge the underlying tension that sits between you. jacaerys would’ve been content with this dynamic for the entirety of his visit, it would’ve been a good exercise of self control — if the day in the kitchens didn’t change everything.

the skies weep, the raindrops making a soft pattering noise on the windows all around the castle. it's a brief change in atmosphere, and gives him time to get used to the more intimate aspects of winterfell.

rain trapping you inside, you and cregan had offered to give jacaerys a proper tour of winterfell, to rectify the short one he had been given upon his arrival.

this particular instance, that made him run as hot as his temper, takes place as the tour winded to an end, and you all ended up in the kitchens. the same kitchens that jace, when supping with you both from then on out, can't stop thinking about.

you had pulled them in, relishing in the idea of swiping a few small pastries to hold your sweet tooth over until dinner - assuring him that the cooks were quite used to you and cregans troublemaking, & were sworn to secrecy with a toothy grin (his heart skipped a beat at the sight).

you had been successful in your "stealing", but the problem arose when cregan had been conversing with one of the cooks, as you and jace stood over the counter, bringing the two small lemon cakes to your mouth.

you were conversing about something — what that was, jacaerys couldn’t remember if his life depended on it. once finished with your pastries, you had some leftover cream on the corner of your mouth. of course, since you're the worst minx to ever bewitch him, you raise a thumb to the corner of your mouth, swiping it off. then (of course), you bring it to your lips, maintaining eye contact with jace, and (of course) suck it off.

whatever he was saying had instantly died on his tongue.

his response was his parted lips trying to bring in air to send to his lungs so he could breathe, but, of course, you seem to have taken his breath too. suddenly the kitchen feels hot, ovens contributing to a warm atmosphere that had quickly turned blazingly overwhelming.

his gaze stayed trapped on where your thumb met your (soft looking) lips, as every part of the white cream had been sucked off.

you were most surprised & pleased by his reaction, indeed. you had an inkling the prince might be taken with you, but you wouldn’t act without certainty. and here you had it, certainty of the utmost stature had fallen right into your hands — watching his gaze flicker from your eyes, to your lips, your cleavage... and back to your lips again.

cregans voice snaps jacaerys out of the trance he had found himself in, and he’s ashamed to say he had to ask cregan to repeat himself. if he wasn’t devoting all of his energy into acting normal, he would see the way cregan glanced at you with raised brows seeing the smile on your face.

regardless of how it came to be, you’ve caught on. and jacaerys is seriously considering how dearly he’d be missed if the ground were to open up & swallow him whole.

your actions now have a certain weight behind them, confidence guiding your every step. hands “accidentally” brushing each other, glances from across the room, subconsciously leaning into each others warmth, flirtatious “jests” that grow bolder by the day, always teetering on the line of jesting and meaning it (you always mean it). you fix his crooked tunic for him, shifting it the right way. jacaerys pretends the warmth emanating from your hands doesn’t make him dizzy.

still, even so, jace had been showing remarkable restraint — not allowing his princely regime to falter (much), and keeping in his remarks. until you both spoke about vermax.

you stood atop one of winterfells walls, watching vermax fly, dipping in & out of the clouds. he was beautiful, and jacaerys would never abandon the opportunity of a conversation with you (or about vermax, of course).

jace told you of how vermax hatched in his crib as a babe, and you wistfully remark on your childhood dreams of dragonriding. he tells you you'd make a fearsome dragonrider. you say you'd made a good dragon rider indeed, but, instead of looking at vermax, jace finds your gaze fixed on him.

you poorly conceal the hidden tone of voice indicating you don't mean the green-scaled dragon in the sky above you, but the chocolate-curled dragon next to you. you don't do a good job of hiding the grin that threatens to erupt on your face, either.

jace feels a furious blush adorn his face, and the corners of his mouth tug up in a repressed smirk. his tongue darts out to wet his lips, his smile turning upside down as his gaze shifts back to vermax's soaring form.

"You speak truly. Any man would envy the dragon."

he pretends not to see the smile spreading across your face from his peripheral. you lean in closer to him, wrapping a hand around his bicep to punctuate your words.

"Men already envy you, My Prince."

he keeps his resolve as you walk away, but as soon as you're out of sight, he sighs — leaning his weight against the edge of the top of the wall, a shuddering exhale leaving his lips. gods have mercy on jacaerys velaryon.

after you sup for dinner, you and cregan escort him to his chambers, and jace feels taking on the entire green army by itself would be easier than this. trying to conceal his eyes being trapped on you, furious desire mounting in his stomach as guilt claws it’s way up his throat. it’s only by stroke of luck that you all walk in silence — he could not entertain a proper conversation if he tried.

does cregan know of your conversation? what would he say? what would he do? the very last thing he needs to be doing is disrespecting the warden of the north that he’s trying to ally.

these thoughts echo in his mind as you approach the door leading to his chambers. you three stop, jaces back to the heavy oak door as you and cregan stand in front of him.

“We shall see you in the morn, then.” says cregan.

jace nods, but his next words die on his tongue as you move from cregans side. his heart hammers in his chest as you saunter to him, standing on your tiptoes as your hand moves to cup his cheek. he subconsciously leans down for you, and you press a kiss onto the corner of his mouth, a breath to the right away from his lips.

seven save him.

his lips part with bated breath, eyes locked onto you as you pull away. his hands twitch with the need to pull you to him, and then he remembers your husband that’s standing right in front of you both.

jaces eyes widen, looking to cregan, but cregan only tilts his head.

his lips… is he smiling? as they hold eye contact, he spots amusement, content, and want (?) in cregans gaze, and then, the smallest of nods.

oh.

jace’s gaze flickers from cregan, to you, and back and forth a few more times. his breathing is unsteady as you return to cregans side, and you can’t (or don’t) hide your pleasure at his reaction.

“Goodnight, My Prince.”

he cant even manage a nod as you both turn to walk away, cregan shooting him one last look. the flustered prince of dragonstone retreats to his chambers, leaning his head against his closed & locked door — moving to fiddle with the laces of his breeches.

you and your husband certainly make quite the pair. cregan, steadfast, burly, & brooding (handsome), with a reserved playfulness only for you — and you, teasing, warm, & confident, with a seemingly reserved deliberateness to drive jacaerys crazy (not that it takes much, of course).

one night, when he thinks he's completely lost any hope of sanity, the gods decide to have a sort of cruel mercy on him.

it is lord boltons name day, and he has extended the planned celebrations invitation to jacaerys as well. you three depart as one, opting to travel by horseback instead of jace arriving on vermax days before you and cregan. most are surprised by his decision, indeed (did jace sacrifice his freedom on dragonback for the prospect of spending more time with you both?).

jace didn't know you rode horses. he acts like the swaying of your hips doesn't capture him, distracting him throughout the entire journey. you and cregan act like you don't notice (do you?)

you all arrive, and on the day of celebrations, allow the wine & northern ale to wash away your sins down your throat. cregans tolerance is highest, jace's is lowest, with you resting in the middle. his cheeks are flushed, and his prided self control has seemed to have left itself at winterfell. you converse with one another in a secluded corner, allowing everyone else to fade from view. you speak with loose tongues, and jacaerys feels cregans hand on the back of his neck, thumb creeping into his hairline.

you speak of the festivities, the travel, the gossip, dragonstone, and jaces own interests. he can see something lurking beneath your usual gaze, you were hiding something. your eyes flickered with uncertainty. no — you wanted to know something.

and then, the very question that broke the damn - sweltering with the combined pent up desire allowed to built over the last weeks.

"Are you untouched, My Prince?"

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cdragons · 6 months

Text

Fuck Everything, But Mostly Fuck You - Part 4

Previous Chapter, Next Chapter. Masterlist

Summary: You have never, EVER, in a million years hated anyone the way you hated Felix fucking Catton. ...Well, maybe you also hated Annabel Williams as much - but you'd be damned before you let a drunk girl out in the hallway without helping her.

Warnings- MDNI 18+, Sex, Felix doesn't make an appearance (but still mentioned), Reader is a girl's girl, Annabel has an epiphany, Michael hates everyone BUT Reader, Farleigh is Farleigh, alternating POVs between characters, and author has spent too much time researching Oxford crap for this mess for a crack fic to be a crack fic. Also Oliver is barely in this chapter, but who cares about that asshat?

Author's Note: I am so sorry for the prolonged hiatus! It was not intentional! My classes have upped the ante in how much HW they gave me, and I got distracted by reading my old GOT fanfics and got ideas for it. BUT - thank you all who've been reading this fic and sharing wonderful comments! They really help push me to become a better writer!

You were caught in a bit of a pickle – granted, it was a voluntary pickle, but a pickle nonetheless.

…Okay, so quick recap of the events that transpired this week:

Regularly-scheduled Annabel tormenting you

Got sexually-harassed by Catton

Had a self-pity session at Bowin

Got found by Mikey Gravy

Olly, the psychotic backstabber/bootlicker, tried to pimp you out to Felix Catton.

You almost committed aggravated homicide of said pimp before Michael dragged you away.

You went to the movies to drool over Johnny Depp.

You and Michael decided you would crash in his dorm room for the night…leading to your current predicament.

Right now, you were dragging an unconscious Annabel, who was drunk off her ass, with one arm flung over your shoulder as you tried to make get any information of where her dorm was out of her. It was a sad picture – mascara running down her cheeks, vomit from her mouth, and lipstick messily smeared across her face. The smell of vomit mixed with cheap booze was almost enough to make you want to drop her on the ground and leave her there if you hadn’t pitied her so much.

When you realized that you weren’t going to get anything out of her that didn’t involve projectile vomiting, you just decided to bring her to rest up in your dorm.

“I still don’t understand why you’re helping her,” Michael grunted.

Oh, yeah…and Michael was helping you, too.

“Because girl code, Gavey–” you grunted, lifting Annabel’s arm higher when you felt her slipping “–no man left behind – or well, no woman left behind in this case.”

“That’s the Geneva Code.”

“Same difference,” you groaned out. Fuck, how was this girl so heavy?

Michael’s face was getting flushed from the sweat running down his forehead. “So, girl code dictates that you have to help the bitch who’s been making your term hell?”

“Girl Code,” you huffed, “wait, hang on - she’s slipping - okay, there we go. ‘Girl Code’ is more of an honor code expected to be followed by all sisters on their journey to womanhood. And one of the most sacred rules in that honor system is that – fuck, she’s heavy – that if you see a sister drunk and unconscious, you make sure she gets home safe.”

“Or your matchbox dorm room, in this circumstance,” your friend grumbled.

You tiredly nodded. “Exactly! Besides, regardless of how heinous she is, it’s the right thing to do.”

“(Y/N), you realize she won’t be getting hypothermia, right?” Michael frustratingly groaned. “It’s late spring.”

“But that doesn’t mean there aren’t people out there who won’t take advantage of her in her current state. They’d say, ‘Oh, she was asking for it,’ or ‘she’s just imagining things, do you remember how hammered she was?’ And then it’ll be their word against hers.”

You went silent for a bit. “I don’t want that to happen to her. No one should have that happen to them – girl or guy, bully or friend.”

“Well, in any case,” Michael started as the two of you finally arrived at the beginning of your dormitory. “It’s lucky that your dorm is so close to mine. Are you sure you want her in there? There’s still the chance she’ll vomit all over your carpet if she misses the bucket or even your covers.”

You opened the door with your ID card. “I’ll just have to take that chance, I guess. Look, I’ll try to wake her up long enough to see if she remembers any of her friend’s numbers. If any of them pick up, I’ll tell them to pick her up.”

Michael looked at you with heavy doubt in his eyes. “And if they don’t? Pick up, I mean?”

“Then I guess we’ll be having a sleepover,” you sighed as you reached your room at the end of the hallway. “And then we’ll never have to see each other ever again when morning comes.”

Michael loudly snorted while you clumsily reached into your back pocket for your keys. “Don’t jinx yourself. With your bleeding heart, you’ll probably end up donating your liver to her if she doesn’t die of alcohol poisoning first.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, come one. Have a bit more faith in me – SHIT!” you exclaimed after you dropped your keys.

You quickly scrambled to the floor while Michael guffawed at your misfortune. You shot a quick glare at him to get him to shut up. The bespectacled bastard didn’t stop laughing until…like, three minutes passed. In response, you dropped Annabel’s arm from your shoulder to focus on finding your room key. You chuckled to yourself when you heard Michael curse to himself as he tried to balance the drunk girl’s weight without getting her too close to him. When you finally found it, you inserted it into the lock. You sighed in relief when the door opened. You were even more relieved that your roommate had decided to spend the night at her girlfriend’s dorm. You really didn’t want to have to explain to her why you were voluntarily helping the vile witch bitch who was actively trying to make your college years hell. Meanwhile, Michael grimaced and groaned as he held Annabel away from his body at arm’s length.

“Is sluttiness contagious through touch?” he asked.

“Unless pre-Sith Anakin suddenly pops into this hallway, I don’t think you’ll need to worry about that,” you snorted as you opened the door to let Michael drag the unconscious girl into the room.

Michael scoffed at your choice of Star Wars beefcake. “Bitch, please. Young Obi-Wan Kenobi was far superior.”

He went to the center of the room and released Annabel from his grip to let her unceremoniously fall on the floor, and her body made a soft ‘thump.’ You wrinkled your nose and grimaced at the pathetic nature of tonight. She looked less like the glamorous Oxford party ‘IT’ girl and more like one of those sad groupies who OD’d in their favorite rockstar’s pool from a house party. You didn’t know what the hell her story of tonight was – but it still didn’t mean she deserved to be left alone, slumped against a wall in a dirty hallway with vomit all over her.

You turned to Michael. “Okay! Off you trot!”

Your favorite bespectacled blonde nerd gave you a look of complete bewilderment.

“Seriously?” he asked. “Not even a thank you? I literally dragged her body here from my dormitory and risked being the first victim of a new STD contracted through skin contact.”

You rolled your eyes at his dramatics – if he weren’t such a numbers genius, he would have been the perfect theater kid.

“Don’t be such an incel,” you admonished. “It’s not a good look on you. And I carried more of her body weight than you, dumbass. If I left it up to you, we’d never get anywhere with your twiggy arms.”

You poked his arms in emphasis and snickered when he pouted. He crossed his arms and was about to leave when you pounced on him. A bit of Annabel’s “Britney Spears Fantasy” spray perfume soaked into his shirt, but other than that, he still smelled like himself. The scent of fresh laundry, freshly mowed grass, and spearmint toothpaste made you feel safe. His scent, combined with his body heat, enveloped you in comfort.

“Thanks, Mikey,” you whispered. “I know you didn’t have to help me, but you did anyway.”

Gavey wrapped his arms around you as he rested his chin on your head. He usually hated contact with anybody save his family, but you were always the exception. Michael should probably have warned you that the rotten and acidic odor from Annabel’s puke would ruin your shirt, but he just let himself replace her cheap perfume with your fragrance. The scent of your favorite honey and jasmine conditioner in your hair mostly covered the faint traces of turpentine and linseed oil on your skin.

“Of course I did,” he softly replied. “With your shit sense of direction, you would have ended up in the bottom of the ditch.”

You gasped and lightly pushed him away. “Uhhh, way to ruin the moment!”

Michael snickered at the way your jaw had dropped in shock and betrayal. You then resorted to mockingly punching him in the stomach as he did nothing to stop you. He couldn’t help but look at you in total and utter fondness as he continued to ‘beat him up.’

But in all honesty, Michael didn’t mind helping you. He loved it. He’d rather get Crucio-ed than say it, but you were his favorite person in the whole world. In a desert of fakes and masks of insincerity, you were like gentle rain with your genuine vibrance and rare honesty. He loved how endlessly kind and empathetic you were to others. He just hated it when you granted acts of kindness to the plebes unworthy of you. You’d give the benefit of the doubt to the worst of the worst on campus – Annabel being a case in point.

Remembering the drunk elephant in the room, Michael grabbed your fists and stared at you thoughtfully.

“Seriously, though,” he began, “why are you helping her? I know you told me about ‘girl code’ and all that. But is that seriously it?”

You thumped your head against his chest. “Look, I get it. Annabel is a horrible person, and with how awful she treated me – she doesn’t deserve my kindness, my help, or my pity. But that doesn’t change that it was the right thing to do. And if not us, who knows who would have picked her up? If another guy other than you ‘helped’ her…you do the math.”

A groggy voice broke the two of you apart. “Are you two going to shag? Because I can leave.”

You and Michael jumped apart as you watched Annabel lift herself from the floor and stagger to her feet. Her legs wobbled briefly before giving out, and then she fell to the floor. You turned to Michael and gave him one final hug before seeing him out. He looked disgusted at the girl sitting on the cheap carpet before turning to you, concerned. Mikey asked if you were confident you didn’t need him here to help you.

“I’ll take it from here,” you reassured him. You flexed your arm – 80s jock bully style. “I’m a tough girl. I carry my canvases and textbooks and everything, after all.”

“Okay,” he dragged out the last syllable. “But if you end up putting her down, give me a call, and I’ll help you bury the body.”

“Um,” interjected Annabel, “you know I’m right here, you arse.”

“Hey,” you admonished, “he did help carry you here. He could have left you in that hallway alone.”

“Whatever,” she scoffed. “Probably did it so he could cop a feel, the slimy wanker.”

“Please,” Michael sneered, “as if I’d ever willingly touch someone with a higher body count than Dahmer and Bundy combined. I’m only here because I wanted to help (Y/N) – she’s the one who was worried about your sad self.”

Ugh, this was going to be a long night. You turned to Michael with apologetic eyes and reassured him that he wasn’t a wanker. You promised you’d make it up to him by buying all the Crunchie bars he wanted. Mikey’s eyes softened at your sincerity as he began to walk down the corridor to make the trek to his dorm.

You softly closed your door so as not to cause any further disturbance. When you turned around, you were startled by the dead stare Annabel was giving you. You looked down at your feet as you shifted uncomfortably in your spot. You cleared your throat to try and break the tension.

“Um, soooo…I’m glad you’re awake. You were sitting so still in that hall, I was worried you OD’d,” you nervously joked. But all she did was continue to stare at you. “So, do you have your phone with you? I figured it would be best if you called one of your friends. I’m sure they’re really worried about you. I know I’d be going out of my mind if one of my friends–”

“What kind of fucking game are you playing here?” she snarled. Her large, doe-brown eyes narrowed in anger as you stopped talking.

“Uhhh,” your mind was coming out blank. “Wait, I don’t – I don’t know what you mean?”

Annabel rolled her eyes. “Oh, don’t play stupid. Why’d you help me? Did you want to take pictures of me drunk and unconscious?”

Your jaw fucking dropped. “What?! NO! I just–”

“I’m sure that would’ve made some fucking good blackmail material,” ignoring you and continuing, “I can see it: ‘Annabel Williams drunk in the hall after trying to shag fucking sad Ollie.’ You’re so obvious.”

You tried to explain yourself. “Okay, look- I think there’s a big misunderstanding here–”

“Or maybe you want to show the pictures to Felix, not that he’d care or anything. You got him all wrapped up in your little Yankee finger, you know that? It’s so pathetic and sick – it makes me want to–”

“HEY!” you yelled – finally making her just shut UP. You closed your eyes and took deep breaths to calm down. “Look, Michael and I were walking to his dorm when we saw you were sitting in the hallway. I tried to ask you if you had your phone on you and if you wanted me to call anyone, but you were out cold. And I couldn’t just leave you there, okay? That’s dangerous! And I didn’t know where you lived – you know, considering that you hate me–” you cut off your rambling with a deep breath “–so he and I dragged you to my dorm.”

The silence that followed was so stifling you wanted to open a window. Maybe if you let some fresh air in, it might calm the girl down. It would also help diffuse some of the puke odor stinking up your room.

“…Anyway, if you don’t have your phone on you right now, I can always call them myself. Do you remember their numbers? I know you and India are close. Do you think she’s available right now?”

More silence.

You began fidgeting. “I mean, you can stay over if no one is available? I don’t mind since my roommate is sleeping over–”

Annabel interrupted you again. “You’re so full of it. You just wanted to help me? For what? For the sake of being the goody-two-shoes kiss-ass, you’ve always been? Did you want me to bow and worship you?”

“Annabel,” you groaned, “it’s been a really long night, okay? And I don’t feel like arguing when you aren’t sober and in your right mind.”

“Oh yeah,” she bitterly laughed. “Be a pushover, and get everyone to love you. Tell everyone how much of a ‘heinous’ bitch I am. Play the victim – that’s all you’ll ever be. Just go back with your pathetic little nerd friend and be invisible and boring like the goody-goody who thinks she’s better than the rest of us.”

The quiet in the room was surprisingly loud. Shock and disbelief morphed into fury as your fists clenched so hard that your nails left red welts on your skin. Your body trembled in anger as your tongue felt too heavy to express everything you wanted to say.

‘Pushover’ she called you? ‘Play the victim,’ she said?

Who the hell was she to have any right to judge you? Did she have any idea what you’ve sacrificed? How much have you suffered and left behind? Could she even have the slightest decency to understand what you’ve been through? Of what she put you through?

…You know what? …Fuck her. Fuck Annabel Williams and all of Oxford’s elite. They were proof that Michael was right – that doing the right thing meant nothing to them.

Your voice was cold, and your eyes were numb. “…I’m going to take a shower,” you grab a towel and your shower buddy. “I want you to get the hell out of my dorm by the time I get back. Call your friend or don’t? Do whatever the hell you want. I don’t care.”

You slammed the door on your way out.

“Finally,” Annabel thought with some relief, “she’s gone.”

When you left, the room felt ten degrees colder the way the door slammed, and Annabel felt goosebumps form on her arm. This was the worst night of her life. She had never felt so humiliated.

Her mummy told her she was just born blessed because God knew she was exceptional, and she always believed that to be true. For her entire life, she was the girl every boy wanted to bed and the girl every girl wanted to be. She never had to fight for anyone’s attention. Her parents gladly bought her the latest versions of top-of-the-line technology. Her closet here and at her parent’s townhouse in Kensington was filled with designer-brand exclusives and limited-editions. She had everything.

For people like her, life was supposed to be easy. She was born at the top, so she would be there till the day she died.

So why was she losing to you?

When she came to Oxford, she figured it would be as easy as most of her life. She’d spend her time partying and networking with the right people. If she had to blackmail a nerd to take her classes or blow a teacher to give her an “A”? Who would say otherwise?

But then she met Felix Catton and finally felt she had met her match. Finally, there was someone who checked all the boxes: rich, tall, handsome, and fun. That part made Felix the golden sheep who stood above the rest of the flock – he was fun. Not only did he know how to have a good time, he knew how to properly fuck a girl, too.

She was so drunk off the taste of his lips and the feel of him around her – so much so that she broke her golden rule.

“Never fall first.”

Annabel felt herself falling hard for Felix Catton. She thought they were exclusive. He was her boyfriend, and she was his girlfriend. But then…he became distant. He stopped calling he and ignored her when they returned to campus after the break. But then he and she left the bar at Kings’ Crossing, and she was so happy! She wanted to cry when he kissed her hard and ripped her 100 quid top in half.

It didn’t matter if she wasn’t wet when he entered her. It didn’t matter that he didn’t wait for her to adjust when he started to thrust. It didn’t matter when she tried to moan his name; he would cover her mouth with his giant hand to shut her up. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t close to finishing when he came inside her. It didn’t matter when her windpipes were almost crushed when he fell on top of her after finishing.

They were together. He chose her! Annabel and Felix – Mrs. Felix Catton, she could see it now. They’d have a wedding in his house at Saltburn. She would have to meet his parents, but she wasn’t worried – all her flings’ parents loved her! They would be together forever, and nothing would ever–

“(Y/N),” Felix whispered above her – and Annabel’s world completely fell apart.

She immediately shoved his body off hers and hurriedly dressed before getting the hell out of his room. Annabel didn’t bother putting on her shoes before running with tears down her face to her dorm. And when she returned to her single, she flung herself to her bed and cried to sleep. She didn’t bother attending class that week – not when her heart broke.

Felix had been thinking about you – you. He called out your name after finishing. Was he imagining your naked body when hers was under him? Had he been imagining you every time he fucked her?

Annabel smelled Felix’s aftershave and wanted to rip the skin off her body. God, she never felt more like a whore in her entire life.

“God,” she thought, “I was so pathetic! How could I be so stupid to fall for Felix Catton? Why did I trick myself into hoping that we would be together?”

Felix wanted a good girl—like you—the American scholarship student who wanted to paint pretty pictures and was at the top of her classes. The lovely New Yorker who hung around losers and still held your head up high despite every professor thinking you were in over your head to come here. Some pushover bitch who was so pathetic and actually–

The door slammed open again, and Annabel’s pretty sure she’d scream if she weren’t so fucking tired. You came storming in with your towel and shower caddy in your hands, and your eyes were a raging storm while your lips were pursed like you had sucked a lemon. Your nostrils are flaring as you angrily breathe through your nose. Annabel was about to open her mouth, but you menacingly pointed at her with your pointer finger. It felt like forever until you finally opened your mouth.

“Look! We don’t have to be friends and I don’t expect us to be friends – but you know what? YES, I WOULD LIKE A THANK YOU! I dragged your unconscious ass across campus, and you REEKED of vomit and bad perfume! And not to body shame, but you are WAY TOO SKINNY to be healthy to be as heavy as you were when I carried you!”

“Excuse me?!” Annabel sputtered. “Who the fuck–”

“Oh! I’m not done!” you shouted. “I don’t know if you being horrible and a bitch is supposed to be some power trip or some shit, but it’s so cliché! Are we in Mean Girls? Are you Regina George? No, am I Janice from Lebanon? NO! And on that – I have a few bones to pick with you…MISSY!

I–” You pointed to yourself “–am NOT a pushover, okay? I fucking beat your stupid manwhore boy toy like it was goddamn ‘Whack o’ Mole’ for ruining my painting! Pushovers don’t do that! FURTHERMORE – me calling you a ‘horrible person’ or ‘heinous bitch’ isn’t me ‘playing the victim’! You HAVE been a HORRIBLE person to me, alright? And what’s worse – I don’t have the slightest idea why! Was it something I said to you last term? Or were you born a spoilt princess who never had to work for anything in her life because mommy and daddy will always give you everything you want so you could forget that they would probably instead work than deal with their brat? Seriously – what is it? Because you’re driving me CRAZY!”

When you were done, Annabel sat on the floor, completely silent, and stared at you unblinkingly. She hadn’t expected you to come back so quickly – let alone to scream at her. She stared at your huffing and shallow breathing in awe and slight amazement. Your hair looked frazzled from your outburst, and your (e/c) eyes were bright with wild impulse.

Annabel felt her bottom lip quiver and stared at an ugly stain on the carpet. She didn’t want to show any more of herself than she had already. But what the hell? You already saw more of her than most of her so-called ‘friends.’ What was a little more? If she had to show more of the ugliest parts of herself, why not show it to someone she already hated?

Before she could stop herself, Annabel felt her shoulders sag and shake as sobs tore through her petite frame. Tears and snot were running down her face as she furiously tried to wipe them away – if nothing but to try and save some shred of dignity. Annabel was crying so much that she didn’t see the surprised look on your face morph to slight guilt since you thought you may gone too far with your rant. You reached out to tap her shoulder when you heard her speak.

“Why doesn’t he want me?” she sobbed. “What do I have to do to get him to love me?”

If you were taken aback by her crying, you were completely caught off-guard by her questions. You walked over to your desk and grabbed a box of tissues before crouching on the ground. You handed her a few tissues from the box and waved to her face to present them. Annabel noticed how you tried hard not to see how much her hand trembled when she reached forward to grab the tissues from you.

“Who?” you softly asked her. “Are you talking about Felix?”

Annabel blew her nose into the tissue hard. “Who else?! I mean…look at me! Everyone wants me! Everyone – boys, girls, teachers! Do you know how many of my past flings gladly emptied their pockets so I might wank them? But he wants you! What do you have that I don’t?”

Concern and pity shifted to confusion before realization kicked in, and you were so done with this conversation already. Maybe you were a slightly horrible person for this, but you felt so disappointed when Annabel told you that her entire drama with you had been over Felix Catton.

“…That’s why you’ve been tormenting me this entire term so far?” you flatly asked. “Because of Felix Catton?”

“He called out your name–” she gasped a heavy sob “– while he was fucking me! Do you have any idea how that feels?”

“Okay, wow,” you thought, “that’s actually really shitty – fuck.”

“Do you know how humiliating that was for me? He was still inside me, for fucks’ sake! I felt him shrink!”

Okay – that was so much more information about Annabel’s and Felix’s sex life than you ever wanted to know.

You coughed into your hand as your face flushed red. “Oh, um–I’ve never really…done it before. So…I wouldn’t really don’t know how that feels.”

“Ugh, of course, you’re a virgin,” she groaned. “Don’t tell me you don’t drink either.”

When you remained silent, Annabel let out a bitter laugh. “Damn, you think you’re hot shit and everything. But you really are a goody-goody. What – you saving yourself for God or some shit?”

“HEY! Just because I like to keep my head down and not a party and get plastered every five minutes doesn’t make me a goody-two-shoes. I just don’t like the taste of alcohol, and increased chances of lung cancer doesn’t exactly spell out ‘fun’ for me.”

But Annabel ignores your outburst and continues to dismiss you. “Yeah, right. I bet you call your mommy and daddy every night. Do you tell them that you miss them and want to go home? Or do you wish to bake cookies with your mummy as daddy watches the telly?”

Annabel’s taunting is only responded to with silence as she grows confused by your melancholic expression.

“…I can’t call them at all,” you respond. “International calls are too expensive. The best I can do is email or Skype. And planned calls can hardly be reliable since my parents’ schedules are always all over the place with their jobs.”

“When–” Annabel’s voice cracked “– when’s the last time you saw them? In real life?”

“I was supposed to see them during Christmas Break,” you bitterly explained, “but then Felix crashed into me when I was on my way to deliver it. He ruined my painting, and I had to redo it completely, not to fail and completely flush my parents’ money down the drain.”

“I thought you were here on scholarship? Doesn’t that mean you don’t have to pay to come here?”

“I’m here on a partial scholarship,” you explained. “It covers a good part of my tuition, but not all of it – and definitely not for housing and meal plans. Travel expenses alone were so expensive, so I had to leave alone. Mom cried so much at the security checkpoint, and Dad almost didn’t want me to go. I didn’t even want to go. But they wanted me to experience more of the world while I still could.”

“…Do you miss them?” Annabel asked. She felt silly asking a question with such an obvious answer. But, hearing how you talked about your parents crying their goodbyes to you compared to the simple wave she got hers after they dropped her off campus made her feel a deep longing.

You let out a shaky sob. “More than anything. You never realize how much you miss your home and family until an entire ocean separates you.”

Annabel uncomfortably shifted in her spot as she noticed your eyes getting misty. She couldn’t remember the last time she cried over missing her parents and felt that you were being overdramatic. Annabel spent her entire break with her parents at their house, but she couldn’t remember the last time they ate at the same table unless it was for one of her dad’s dinner parties. What did it feel like – to miss and love someone so much after not seeing them for a year?

What did it feel like – to have an entire lifetime of that kind of love?

Does having that kind of love make you?

“…Why did you help me?” Annabel finally asked. She couldn’t bear the tension anymore. “You could have just left me there. Why help me and bring me here of all places?”

“…Because it was the right thing to do,” you explained and shrugged. “You were drunk and vulnerable. Maybe it was fear of being a potential bystander if someone tried to take advantage of you – but I was scared something was going to happen to you. Regardless of my feelings toward you and yours toward me, no one should ever find themselves in a position where if they’re telling the truth, it’s someone else’s word against theirs. I’ve seen it too happen many times already.”

“What do you say in response to that?” Annabel thought to herself – shocked by how genuinely you answered her question. Since you were honest with her, she figured she could at least be honest with you.

“If it were you,” she began, “I wouldn’t have done for you what you did for me.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, “you probably wouldn’t – but that’s neither here nor there. Because I’m me, and you’re you.”

“…Are you really not interested in Felix?” Annabel asked. She was surprised by your disgusted groan.

“Oh my god–” you put your face into your hands and loudly groaned “–I don’t understand why everyone has an obsession with this guy.”

Annabel raised her brow. “Seriously?”

“Yes! He’s so gross – I studied in an empty classroom last week. He sat next to me, basically propositioned me, and then put his hand on my thigh! Does that sound like someone I would want to date?”

“You know he’s just doing it to get your attention because he likes you, right?”

You scoffed at her input. “Pffft– and that makes it alright of him to invade my personal space via sexual harassment? I hate how everyone makes excuses for him – and why? Because he’s richer than God and has an ‘alright-looking’ face? So what?”

“Oh, believe me,” snickered Annabel, “he’s more than just ‘alright-looking’ and he fucks as good as he looks.”

You sagely shook your head. “A person like that has nothing to offer himself. He desperately clings to his family’s wealth and the benefits of his status so tightly – and he pretends not to enjoy it, but he’s the type of person to love leeching on someone’s misfortune to feel better about himself.”

You shuddered as you remembered Felix’s constant leering at you since the term began.

“He’s like a vampire – I’ve seen enough of them in high school to recognize them from miles away.”

Annabel was utterly silent at your analysis of Oxford’s Golden Boy. She never considered the possibility of someone out there who didn’t absolutely covet and revere him. She assumed that you were purposely playing ‘hard-to-get’ to get his attention, but maybe you were sincere in his disgust by him.

“Plus, he looks like the type to be absolutely shit at foreplay and only knows how to stick it in.”

Annabel was so caught off-guard by your statement that she immediately burst out laughing. You were surprised by her reaction and started to laugh, too. She was laughing so hard that tears started rolling down her cheeks, and her stomach started to hurt.

“HE IS!” she agreed while nodding. “He does the bare minimum! I’ve been giving him constant blowjobs, and I can count the number of times he’s eaten me out with one hand! The only type of prep he knows how to do is finger me!”

“Oh my god! EW!” you guffawed. “Why did you put up with him for so long?!”

Annabel shrugged. “He’s the most popular guy on campus – even the upperclassmen adore him. I was always the popular girl throughout primary and secondary prep. It just made sense.”

“My parents told me college was all about discovering new things about yourself,” you said. “Maybe…you could do that for yourself.”

Annabel looked wistful before nodding. “Yeah…you know this doesn’t mean we’re friends, right?”

You rolled your eyes. “Please, tonight’s the last night I’m willingly dealing with a demon like you. I’ll stick to forcing Michael to watch my favorite Johnny Depp movies—thank you very much.”

Annabel watched your eyes soften at the mention of your friend…Michael Gravy? Was he the guy who left the two of you together after snarking at her?

…Oh god, it all made sense now.

“Are you and Gravy fucking?” she bluntly asked. She huffed in amusement at how red your face became as you began to sputter.

“WHAT?! No-NO! We’re friends!” you exclaimed before getting all shy.

“You were awfully protective of him a bit ago to be ‘just friends,’” Annabel countered. “Spill it – what’s going on between you two?”

“He’s my best friend,” you explained to Annabel. “He let me stay with his family after I finished repainting my assignment – which was really amazing of him.”

She watched how you smiled when continuing to talk about him.

“I know he can seem a bit odd and rude at first,” you continued. “But Michael is one of the best people on campus. He can be really sweet when you get close to him – especially when he talks about his family. His little sister, Lily, is so adorable! He’s a total nerd but a complete sweetheart when you get to know him.”

Annabel bemusedly watched as you gushed about your ‘best friend.’ It was almost sweet how gone you were for the nerd. You didn’t even realize how gone you were for him. For a bit, Annabel could see why Felix was so enamored with you.

“Well,” she interrupted as she stood up, “I guess your obliviousness to your feelings isn’t any of my business or whatever. Thanks for…helping me – it was really nice of you.”

You warmly smiled at her. “Sure! Do you have to meet anyone tomorrow morning?”

“Uh, no?”

You walked to your closet and grabbed a towel, a worn T-shirt, and old sweats. You handed them to her as Annabel looked at you in confusion.

“Since you’re here,” you began, “and it’s already like…3 a.m. – you might as well shower and stay over since tomorrow’s Saturday.”

“…Why?”

“You still have puke all over you,” you explained, “and it’s getting really hard pretending it’s not extremely gross. Plus, I can’t imagine you’re comfortable right now.”

“What’s with the clothes?”

You shrugged. “Well, I can’t exactly have you sleep in your dress and ruin my sheets! You can shower and sleep on my bed while I sleep on my roommate’s. Now, are you going to take them?”

Annabel hesitated before she took the bundle from your hands. You then opened the door. While holding it, you looked at her as if expecting her to follow you. What confused her most was the way she did exactly that.

While in the shower, she didn’t even mind that you didn’t have any of her usual hair products. Your conditioner looked like it was bought at a cheap dollar store – you didn’t even have a loofah. But when she exited the shower stall before drying herself with your towel and changing into your baggy clothes, she felt calmer than she had these past few weeks. As she crawled under your sheets and comforter, you turned off the night and wished her good night.

Annabel stared at the ceiling for about an hour before she grabbed her phone. She managed to find it while digging through her dress pockets. She was going to wash it when she got back to her dorm. Opening it, she rolled down at the dozens of messages from India and their girlfriends. Her eyes slightly widened at the soft *ping* her phone let out when she got a new message to show it was from Felix.

To her surprise, she didn’t feel anything. She didn’t care he messaged her that he had forgotten their plans. Staring at her screen, she just felt…nothing. So she did the very thing she should have done weeks ago.

She deleted Felix Catton’s number from her contact list.

Annabel slept better that night than she had all term.

After that night with Annabel, life simply went on. She and you weren’t ‘friends’ per se, but she no longer went out of her way to torment you like she had done before. She even told off some of her friends when they talked about you behind your back.

You two weren’t friends, but you hoped that there was at least some fraction of mutual respect. If you couldn’t be friends, then at least you two didn’t have to be enemies – you were happy to settle for being a ‘frenemy.’

You found yourself sitting by yourself at one of the tables in the library. Michael had to meet with one of his teachers about an essay but promised to meet with you as soon as he finished. You were repeatedly listening to Carrie Underwood’s “Before He Cheats” when you heard the chair next to you being pulled out.

Fully expecting it to be Felix, you were ready to tell him to fuck off and bother some other poor soul that needed saving, but you were surprised to find that the person sitting next to you was his cousin, Farleigh Start. He introduced himself by stating his name and giving you a firm handshake. There wasn’t much you could do but reciprocate.

“Quite the save you gave our Annabel,” Farleigh grinned. “Very magnanimous of you, especially considering how she treated you.”

“What do you want from me?” you blurted out. “I’m busy, and I would appreciate it if you just left so I can continue studying.”

You weren’t normally so rude, but this was Felix Catton’s cousin – and if this was a ploy to get you in his pants, you wanted no part of it. But your skepticism only seemed to please the boy sitting beside you more. His wry grin curled into a wide Cheshire Cat smile as he continued to stare at you with eager fascination.

Farleigh started to lean toward you, and you instinctively leaned away from him. You eyed him with extreme caution as if he were a mad scientist and you were a paralyzed specimen. And his eyes looked like he couldn’t wait to cut you open.

“I like you,” he stated. “Let’s be friends.”

Tagging: @ethereal-athalia, @arcielee, @valeskafics, @asa-do-your-thing, @aphroditesmoon, @axelsagewrites, @the1999kid, @poolnoodlerescuer, @aemondsbabe, @winterblu2, @abaker74, @whereismymindno, @agustdeeyaa, @iamavailablesstuff, @bonnieblue0606, @st-eve-barnes, @nyxthoughtss, @immyowndefender, @ilovemydinoboi, @ahristata, @cxp1d, @jinsoulorbitzen12, @temptation-waits, @bollzinurmouth, @jcngw0ns, @seababehh, @destinydestnation, @lankyboi4, @mindless-rock, @cassavacakes, @paradisepoisons, @pansexualpamandabear, @erikasurfer, @lissamans, @cookielovesbook-akie, @thesmutconnoisseur, @izzyisstuff, @lariisouz

Reblog if you liked reading this chapter and want me to continue! Also please comment if you want to be added to the taglist!

#saltburn x reader #saltburn #saltburn crack #saltburn au #michael gavey x reader #felix catton x reader #farleigh catton #farleigh start #venetia catton #oliver quick #michael gavey #saltburn 2023 #saltburn movie

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thesharkwhalewhoohooooo · 2 months

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Bridget x fem! Oc

Short one! Also, another OC. I’m so bad at keeping it to a few. Also I’m hearing this consistent scraping sound that sometimes becomes inconsistent and its 4:13 here and I’m about to cry i’m so fucking scared it won’t go away.

"Oh my lord." Ella caught the white haired girl right before she fell onto the stone, rolling her eyes and hoisting her up again, helping her keep her balance.

"Oh my god stop fainting like that Arry." She groaned, Artelia stabilised herself, standing weak kneed on the courtyard stones as she leaned on Ella.

"She is so-."

"Hot?"

"-Magnificently perfect, who allowed her to roam this earth? I should personally thank them." Ella almost killed herself when she heard that, instead pushing the rabbit off of her and onto Bridget as she approached.

"Hi Lia! How has your day been?" Bridget grinned brightly at her, holding her close to her chest.

"Good! Amazing even!" Atrelia responded after a second of staring at her future queen.

"Could you send a letter to my mom? I have to ask her something about the upcoming free days." The royal messenger nodded quickly, wrapping her arms around the taller girl's waist.

"I still have some homework I wanted to do now, so, if you could....?" She trialed off, carefully unhooking her hands from her lower back and lifting up Artelia so she was standing straight.

"Right, wait, what subject?" Bridget sighed, patting her head and pulling her to a table, saying her goodbyes to Ella who didn't have a free period.

"It's for math, we can do it together?"

"Shhhhh!" Artelia harshly shushed Ella when she burst into her dorm room, probably to copy her homework for tomorrow.

"All right! I get it." Ella whisper yelled back, glancing at Bridget who had her head on Artelia's lap, fast asleep.

"It's on my desk, just take it and give it back tomorrow morning." Ella nodded, tiptoeing towards the desk and snatching the papers, quickly racing out after.

"You didn't have to be so harsh on her." Bridget half-slurred, still on the brink of sleep.

"I thought you were asleep princess." The pink-haired girl merely hummed, rolling a bit so her body laid straight on the bed and not half off of it.

"I thought I was too." The rabbit pushed a bit off hair out of her face, looking down at her lovingly.

"I love you."

"Love you too Sweets." She rolled over, hiding her face in Artelia's thighs.

"Can we lay normally? Now that I know you're awake I am not continuing to sit up like this." Bridget moaned in protest, throwing her arms up to lay next to Artelia, and going limp.

"Bridget!" The girl in question ignored her, opting to grab onto her legs instead.

"Come on dear. Let's just lay down..."

#the depths contrapts #rise of red #ror #descendants #descendants the rise of red #descendants 4 #bridget of wonderland #bridget x oc #ruby rose turner #bridget x reader

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nanivinsmoke · 1 day

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PYSKINKTOBER

welcome to PYSKINKTOBER! im you’re host, nani, and we got a few games to play! before we start, you might be wondering what is PSYKINKTOBER, well it’s a new thing im starting—it’s still kinktober but I wanted to add some psychotic oneshots to the mix.

all PYSKINKTOBER one shots will be tagged with trigger warnings when needed to. some of these might not get done, but ill let you guys know!

in the meantime, who’s ready to to play?

PRESS PLAY

◃◁ ► ▷▹

PAPRAZZI . ❥ mma!fighter toji x fem!reader — ROUND ONE + tw: stalking

summary ❥ the strongest man in the world can’t seem to shake off his number one fan. heavily inspired by lady gaga’s song ‘ NSFW CONT ‘

DADDY’S DEALINGS ❥ patch!wolverine x fem!reader — ROUND TWO summary ❥ dont fuck with him while he’s working. you knew that, but what happens when you try to fuck on him during work? ' NSFW CONT '

KNOCK THAT KITTY CAT OUT! ❥ old!manlogan x f!reader — ROUND THREE summary ❥ everything and everyone seems to stress the old man out, what happens when he takes it all out on you? title inspired by sir mix a lot ' NSFW CONT '

S(C)ARRIE STORIES ❥ supernatural x fem!reader — ROUND FOUR summary ❥ whatever you do, don’t let the winchester brothers convince you to watch scary movies with you—especially while you’re high.

AND I CAME! ❥ dbf!toji x fem!reader — ROUND FIVE

summary ❥ handing out candy to trick-o-treaters with him should be easy, right? inspired by love game by lady gaga ' NSFW CONT '

HURTS SO GOOD ❥ laststand!logan x fem!reader — BONUS ROUND ONE summary ❥ you find out logan has a pain kink. ' NSFW CONT '

NIGHTMARE ON KINK STREET ❥ tf!sukuna x fem!reader — BONUS ROUND TWO summary ❥ scary movies before bed? seems like you’re just asking for a scare. ' NSFW CONT '

#PYSKINKTOBER #logan howlett #true form sukuna #mma fighter toji #toji fushiguro smut #sukuna ryomen smut #old man logan smut #nanivinsmoke #jjk smut #logan #logan howlett smut #jujutsu kaisen

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pixiecactus · 3 months

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so when talking about gendrya, many people get the assumption that both of them are loners that simply attracted each others company, which is not true at all, arya stark is truly the socially inclined one of all of the starks. she is a charismatic little girl that cares deeply for others, no matter their social standing, if you're good to her and the people she cares about, she will be good in return to you and care for you fiercely and that's one of the things that make her so special to me. now gendry, yeah, he's a loner true and through, i love that he simply does not have patience for anyone trying to bother him (ex. by talking to him) we, of course don't know much of how gendry's life was prior to ned's visit in agot. what we do know is that his mother died when he was very young, so he can barely remember her, we don't know how much time he spend as an orphan child surviving alone in flea bottom before varys paid tobho mott for his apprenticeship, but we can assume by a comment tobho made, that the other apprentices mocked/bullied him, so he didn't seem to have any friend before arya.

(i'm going to talk only about their acok interactions, because i swear i tried to summarize their entire friendship until the end of it, but the formating choice i made was starting to get old and just the idea of going through asos for this post is turning my brain into mush, sorry. and yeah this post is really long and if i don't post it now i never will)

so yeah, that's why is so important to me that gendry the introvert loner was the first one to pay attention and talk to arya the extrovert social butterfly. so here's a summary of gendry's actions through acok, because is wonderful to see him going from being a loner child who seemed to hate everyone to... still a loner child that seemed to hate everyone except for arya, who is his only friend.

gendry paying attention to a small child being bullied, instead of minding his own bussines.

gendry noticing that the small child can hold their own against the two bullies, which it is impressive, but he still wants to help them, and starts shouting their opponents's next moves as a warning.

gendry observing that arry, which is the small child name, seems to have a penchant for putting himself in dangerous situations, like talking to and bothering three chained criminals, gendry trying to interfere and get the small child away from them.

gendry entertaining arry's wish to fight him.

gendry realizing that the gold cloaks are after him, but what is even weirder, it's little arry thinking they are actually looking for him.

gendry accepting half of a rabbit's leg to eat, because arry decided to share his food with him.

gendry watching arry taking care and doing his best to be nurturing to an orphaned little girl... could be arry a girl all of this time?

gendry founding himself in a group, with arry, the two boys who bullied her (she's a girl, alright) and the orphaned toddler who is never far from arry at all.

gendry hearing yoren telling him to escape with the other children, founding themselves surrounded in flames. gendry seeing hot pie and lommy, but there's nowhere to find arry and the toddler clinging to her leg.

gendry deciding right there that he will be going back to find arry.

gendry finding the both of them soon enough, he takes the crying girl away from arry's small figure and tells her to run, please.

gendry ignoring the chained criminals calling for help. he needs to get arry and the little girl to safety soon.

gendry watching baffled how arry puts herself in danger to free the criminals from their cage before the flames consume them.

gendry being left with no other option than escape with the crying girl, who is clinging to him and with not arry at all.

gendry carrying lommy greenhands, since the boy took a spear through the leg and can no longer limp and gendry getting tired of listening to hot pie and lommy's voices.

gendry deciding than when he has to go looking for food with arry, it's a good time to offer her the chance to escape the both of them, alone.

gendry trying his best to convince arry to abandon the rest of their group, it's plain to see that the both of them are the only ones with better chances at surviving. and having a little girl crying all the time it's starting to get in his nerves.

gendry telling arry that he knows she's a girl.

gendry taking the piss out of arry for trying to deny she's a girl. gendry deciding that he's going to continue mocking arry for the cock she does not have.

gendry wanting to know more about arry, starting with her real name. she must have a girl's name, right?

gendry swearing to protect this girl's secret, his first friend, as his own.

gendry wanting to die when realizing that little arry, actually is arya of house stark, a highborn lady.

gendry laughing when arya kicks him in an attempt to get him to stop to calling her "m'lady"

gendry getting caught by the mountain's men.

gendry knowing that arya and hot pie made it to harrenhal, but barely seeing them.

gendry reprimanding arya for being so careless as to scream "winterfell" and possibly revealing her identity to hot pie. gendry lying to hot pie to protect arya.

gendry recognizing that arya has shed the "arry" identity completely. gendry calling arya "girl" because harrenhal is not a safe place at all to call arya by her own name.

gendry picking fights with arya, when she comes with the initial plan to set up the fall of harrenhal, because it doesn't matter at all whose lord he's serving. gendry losing hope of ever leaving this damned place.

gendry refusing arya's plan to escape harrenhal. arya being sure he will accompany her anyway.

gendry not forgetting the swords that arya asked him for.

gendry following arya, once again, as they escape harrenhal.

#gendry hates everyone except for one (1) person and that person is arya stark of winterfell #that's the post honestly #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #house stark #arya stark #gendry #gendrya #arya x gendry #gendry x arya

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nicoline1998enilocin · 1 month

Note

Summer Drabble Request: Robert Downey Jr x fem!Reader, established relationship (married), with Prompt 6. "Can I kiss you?" from Fluff List 2 please?

Showing off our love

PAIRING || Husband!Robert Downey Jr. x Wife!Pregnant!Fem!Reader

WORDCOUNT || ~ 750 words

SUMMARY || Tonight, you'll grace the red carpet for the first time since you and Robert got the great news about your pregnancy, and he will make sure to make it a night everyone will remember for the rest of your life together.

RATING || Mature (M)

TAGS || RPF. Established relationship. Pregnancy fic. Age gap. Referenced difficulty with conception.

A/N || This is written for my Summer of Drabbles. Thank you for this fantastic prompt, Sage, because it has sparked something beautiful if you ask me! I hope you will enjoy this as much as I did when writing it! This is not proofread; any and all mistakes are my own. 🤍

Photo: @ccbsrmsf1 || Other graphics are made by @nicoline1998enilocin

Main Masterlist || Robert Downey Jr. || Summer of Drabbles

Each time you and Robert are invited to an event that includes a red carpet, he makes sure to pull out all the stops for you, as he wants you to feel like the queen you are in his eyes. From the most beautiful of dresses to the best of make-up and hair, everything is taken care of without you having to lift a single finger.

Today, you are invited to a movie premiere, and you're looking forward to it. You'll be able to catch up with some people you haven't seen in a while like his Marvel co-stars Scarlett and Sebastian, who have also been confirmed to visit.

"How're you feeling about tonight, Gorgeous?" Robert asks, smirking as he meets your gaze in the mirror while the hairstylist takes care of your hair.

"Good, I'm really excited to show off our little guy tonight," you say as you let your hand rest on your belly. You're nearing the seventh month of your pregnancy, which you have been able to keep a secret for this long because you're not in the public eye often.

You may have married one of Hollywood's most famous men, but that doesn't mean you always want to be in the spotlight. You're looking forward to it tonight, as it'll be your first appearance since finding out about the little boy growing in your belly.

"So am I; it'll be amazing to finally share our secret," he says as he bends down to kiss you on your cheek, heat radiating through his soft lips as they touch your heated skin.

Then, he walks over to the closet, where your gown for the night is displayed; it's a simple black gown that has been fitted to perfection to accommodate your growing belly, letting the world know about the miracle growing in your belly.

The road to becoming pregnant has been challenging for you both, which has made the fact that it finally happened even more special. You're enjoying every moment of it while you can because it'll be over before you know it.

After he has admired your dress for a few moments, he is called in to get his outfit and hair done so that you and your husband will be done simultaneously and ready to leave right after. Once that time has arrived, your husband has to take a moment to pick his jaw off the floor from the sight of you, blood suddenly rushing everywhere; it shouldn't be right now.

"I- wow, fuck! I'm speechless, Gorgeous; you're even more beautiful than I thought you would be," he whispers as he pulls you close, gently caressing your belly before he takes the hand with your ring, bringing it to his lips to kiss it. The smile you're wearing now has not left your lips the entire evening, as he truly knows how to make you feel like the most beautiful, loved, and cherished woman on earth.

The ride to the movie premiere is quick, but before you get out of the car, you take a few deep breaths to prepare yourself for what's about to happen. Robert gives you a reassuring look as he grabs your hand, and then it's time.

Photographers and journalists are all over you when you leave the car. A loud cheer is heard for Robert's arrival and your pregnancy, which will be the talk of the town for the next few weeks. Your hand is firmly held by your husband's, letting you know he's not going anywhere without you.

Once you're on the carpet, your hand lying on your belly and your husband pulling you into his side, he moves to whisper something in your ear.

"Can I kiss you?" he asks, and it heats your cheeks once again. You nod before moving your head to meet his gaze, a soft look on his features. Robert gently lays his hand on your belly alongside yours before leaning in and capturing your lips softly, giving everyone a moment never to forget.

"I love you so much, Gorgeous, and I love our little Nugget as well," he whispers, making you smile wide. Your secret is finally revealed to the world, and you can't wait to meet the little feet that have been kicking you for almost seven months.

"I love you too, Robert; I couldn't have done any of this without you," you tell him before pecking his lips a few times. The love between you two is visible in every single moment that passes, proving exactly why you are Hollywood's power couple.

#rpf #robert downey jr #robert downey jr one shot #robert downey jr fanfiction #robert downey jr fanfic #robert downey jr x female reader #robert downey jr x reader #robert downey jr fluff #rdj #rdj one shot #rdj fanfiction #rdj fanfic #rdj x female reader #rdj x reader #rdj fluff

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fromtheseventhhell · 7 months

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I'm not sure how to get it into people's heads that Arya is a female character. She's not a boy, not nonbinary, trans, agender, or genderless. I don't intend this in a way to be negative or wanky, but her girlhood is imbedded within her character. The problem isn't that Arya stans are missing the point by overemphasizing her femininity and wanting her to be a barefoot tradwife baby making machine, but that we're stating it exists when the majority of fandom and the show itself have gone out of the way to minimize the relevancy of her gender. I'm fully convinced there are a lot of people who think Arya would be the exact same character had GRRM created her as a male character named Arry instead, perhaps they'd do a better job at acknowledging her importance.

What's most ironic to me is how these same fans will gush and coo over the sisters being more alike than we think, but only if it involves giving Arya's characteristics to Sansa. Well acktually, Sansa likes to ride horses just as much as Arya does! They're so alike uwu! But dare acknowledge that Arya has traits and aspects commonly associated to Sansa then not only does that get accusations of wanting Arya to become Sansa, but that it's solely about showing Sansa up and wanting her to grovel in Arya's shadow and superiority 🙄 Hypocrisy and projection showing itself.

Somewhat of an aside, but I recently saw a post on reddit complaining about the fact that all four of Daemon's children survived the Dance specifically focused on the fact that both Rhaena and Baela lived. According to the OP, one of them should've died and their post-war roles in the story should've been given to only one of them. Which at its core is really the main conflict between Sansa and Arya stans, no matter how much the Stansas want to cover their ears and play dumb. It's not about Arya stans projecting their sibling squabbles onto the two of them but simply the fact that it's not possible for two characters to fulfill the same role in the story, specifically when it involves two female characters. The existence of two Stark sisters is an inconvenience for the people who want the story to revolve around Sansa.

I have to believe there's some bubbles that they don't want to admit will burst if TWOW will ever be released and that's why they cling to the idea that Arya stans are the delusional ones. They have to believe that the parts of Sansa's seasons 5-8 storyline they like came from GRRM instead of D&D or else their Jonsa and QITN fantasies will fall apart. I have no idea how someone can watch the scene where Sansa tells Arya she couldn't survive what she had while Arya can only sputter out that she was training and believe 1) it makes sense for their book characters and 2) D&D didn't blatantly favor Sansa and Sophie over Arya and Maisie.

This ask came literally seconds after I drafted a post talking about this exact topic and it's so wild to me that we were both up thinking about Arya + her girlhood and wanting to discuss it 🥹

As for this ask, you really hit the nail on the head. Arya's gender is an essential aspect of her journey but fandom ignores that because they've decided that there's only one "right" way to exist as a female character. Arya's self-esteem issues stem from her being a non-conforming Lady in a misogynistic society, she has to disguise herself as a boy in part because of the threat of sexual violence, in Harrenhal she is assigned gender-specific tasks/labor, political matches are made without her knowledge/consent, she is threatened with sexual violence multiple times, and even her role within the FM is influenced by her gender. Her being non-conforming doesn't mean she's the complete antithesis of everything feminine. The obsession with propping up Sansa has ruined people's ability to perceive complex female characters, ironically including Sansa herself. They genuinely would've respected Arya more if she had died passively rather than fight for her life and you can't tell me that isn't misogyny.

That Reddit post is a great example of how people genuinely can't (or refuse to) comprehend the idea of two female characters occupying the same space. Cause you're right, that is the root of the issue. I think the only reason they bother with the fake "Stark sisters uwu" crap is because they've backed themselves into a faux-feminist corner and they don't want to look hypocritical for disliking Arya. So instead, they pretend to care all while rewriting her to serve as Sansa's prop. This is also why so many Queen!Sansa truthers are also anti-Dany + think that Sansa becoming Queen depends on Dany's downfall. They desperately cling to the show as canon, when D&D have openly admitted they changed the story because they favored Sansa/Sophie. They're fine with how show!Arya is written because to them, that's exactly how she should be; a subservient lapdog for Sansa. TWOW is definitely going to ruin that illusion, and one of the reasons I'm optimistic about it being released is getting to see fandom's reaction.

#ask #anon #arya stark #anti sansa stans #anti d&d #anti got #this fandom is bullshit but getting asks like this is why I'm never going to leave #cause I enjoy discussing Arya's character with people who just /get it/ more then I hate seeing delusional takes about her #I will continue to celebrate her character and call out nonsense for as long as I can #also the timing of this particular ask was just perfect *chef's kiss*#honestly I'd prefer that stansas just admit they don't like Arya instead of constantly downplaying her intelligence and trying to #gaslight Arya stans every time we make book accurate posts/theories #no we aren't delusional for thinking that Arya will be a leader lol and they don't really believe it either which is why so much #of their time is spent pilfering skills and plot relevance from Arya to boost their fanon Sansa theories

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gazpachoandbooks · 5 months

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Arya and Hot Pie's compilation because their friendship is so important to me

"You better give Hot Pie the sword, Arry," Lommy said. "Hot Pie wants it bad. He kicked a boy to death. He'll do the same to you, I bet."

"I knocked him down and I kicked him in the balls, and I kept kicking him there until he was dead," Hot Pie boasted. "I kicked him all to pieces. His balls were broke open and bloody and his cock turned black. You better gimme the sword."

Arya slid her practice sword from her belt. "You can have this one," she told Hot Pie, not wanting to fight.

"That's just some stick." He rode nearer and tried to reach over for Needle's hilt. [...] The Bull shouted, "Behind you," and Arya spun. Hot Pie was on his knees, his fist closing around a big jagged rock. She let him throw it, ducking her head as it sailed past. Then she flew at him.

[...] By the time Yoren pulled her off him, Hot Pie was sprawled out on the ground with his breeches brown and smelly, crying as Arya whapped him over and over and over.

"Is it a fight?" he asked.

"I guess," said Hot Pie, scrambling on all fours for a big rock to throw. Arya could not believe what she was seeing. She hated Hot Pie! Why would he risk himself for her?

He scooped up the shortsword the officer had dropped. "Who wants this?"

"Me!" Hot Pie yelled.

"Don't be using it on Arry." He handed the boy the sword, hilt first.

"I'm scared," Hot Pie murmured when he saw the one-armed woman thrashing in the wagon.

"Me too," Arya confessed.

He squeezed her shoulder. "I never truly kicked no boy to death, Arry. I just sold my mommy's pies, is all."

"I need to make water," Arya explained.

"Well, use that tree right there." (Hot Pie) pointed. "You don't know what's out there, Arry. I heard wolves before."

The crying girl whimpered and wept, but when Hot Pie offered her a bit of goose she gobbled it down and looked for more.

Hot Pie squatted on the pallet beside her, watching her work. "Where'd you get a good sword like that?" he asked. When he saw the look she gave him, he raised his hands defensively. "I never said you stole it, I just wanted to know where you got it, is all."

"My brother gave it to me," she muttered.

"I never knew you had no brother."

Arya paused to scratch under her shirt. There were fleas in the straw, though she couldn't see why a few more would bother her. "I have lots of brothers."

"You do? Are they bigger than you, or littler?"

More spears flew. Arya yanked down Hot Pie by the back of his tunic. [...] Hot Pie dropped his shortsword when he tried to unsheath it. Arya shoved the blade back into his hand. "I don't know how to swordfight," he said, white-eyed.

"It's easy," Arya said, but the lie died in her throat as a hand grasped the top of the parapet.

"Behind!" Hot Pie yelled. Arya whirled. The second man was bearded and helmetless, his dirk between his teeth to leave both hands free for climbing. As he swung his leg over the parapet, she drove her point at his eyes. Needle never touched him; he reeled backward and fell. I hope he falls on his face and cuts off his tongue. "Watch them, not me!" she screamed at Hot Pie. The next time someone tried to climb their part of the wall, the boy hacked at his hands with his swordshort until the man dropped away.

She never saw how the skinny man got over the wall, but when he did she fell on him with Gendry and Hot Pie [...] Even as she was feeling sorry for him she was killing him, shouting, "Winterfell! Winterfell!" while Hot Pie screamed "Hot Pie!" beside her as he hacked at the man's scrawny neck.

Hot Pie stepped out of the barn. "Arry, come on! Lommy's gone, leave her if she won't come!"

Beneath her tree, Hot Pie barked like a dog. Kurz had told them to use animal sounds to signal to each other. An old poacher's trick, he'd said, but he'd died before he could teach them how to make the sounds right. Hot Pie's bird calls were awful. His dog was better, but not much.

Lommy and Hot Pie almost shit themselves when she stepped out of the trees behind them. "Quiet," she told them, putting an arm around Weasel when the little girl came running up.

Hot Pie stared at her with big eyes. "We thought you left us."

"Where's the Bull?" asked Lommy.

"They caught him," Arya whispered. "We have to get him out. Hot Pie, you got to help." [...] "Anyhow, I don't care what you say, I'm going back for him." She looked at Hot Pie. "Are you coming?"

Hot Pie glanced at Lommy, at Arya, at Lommy again. "I'll come," he said reluctantly.

Hot Pie kept stumbling in the dark and losing his way, and Arya had to wait for him and double back. Finally she took him by the hand and led him along through the trees. "Just be quiet and follow."

Hot Pie ate even better; he was where he belonged, in the kitchens, a round stone building with a domed roof that was a world unto itself. Arya took her meals at a trestle table in the undercroft with Weese and his other charges, but sometimes she would be chosen to help fetch their food, and she and Hot Pie could steal a moment to talk. He could never remember that she was now Weasel and kept calling her Arry, even though he knew she was a girl. Once he tried to slip her a hot apple tart, but he made such a clumsy job of it that two of the cooks saw. They took the tart away and beat him with a big wooden spoon.

"I'm making the morning bread," Hot Pie complained. "Anyhow I don't like it when it's dark, I told you."

"I'm going. I'll tell you after. Can I have a tart?"

"No."

She filched one anyway, and ate it on her way out. It was stuffed with chopped nuts and fruit and cheese, the crust flaky and still warm from the oven.

Hot Pie was told to crumble in the spices as the wine heated. Arya went to help.

"I can do it," he said sullenly. "I don't need you to show me how to spice wine."

He hates me too, or else he's scared of me. She backed away, more sad than angry.

Hot Pie said, "Hoot like an owl when you want us to come."

"I'm not an owl," said Arya. "I'm a wolf. I'll howl."

It made her feel bad to hide the truth from Hot Pie, but she did not trust him with her secret.

Hot Pie shifted his seat. "I know the song about the bear," he said. "Some of it, anyhow."

Tom ran his fingers down his strings. "Then let's hear it, pie boy." He threw back his head and sang, "A bear there was, a bear, a bear! All black and brown, and covered with hair . . ."

Hot Pie joined in lustily, even bouncing in his saddle a little on the rhymes. Arya stared at him in astonishment. He had a good voice and he sang well. He never did anything well, except bake, she thought to herself.

"If I served you a cup of soup full of dead flies, would you drink it?"

"Arry would," said Hot Pie.

"The bread will be better when I make it. You'll see, when you come back. You will come back, won't you? When the war's done?"

[...] Arya didn't know if the war would ever be done, but she had nodded. "I'm sorry I beat you that time," she said. Hot Pie was stupid and craven, but he'd been with her all the way from King's Landing and she'd gotten used to him. "I broke your nose."

"You broke Lem's too." Hot Pie grinned. "That was good."

"Lem didn't think so," Arya said glumly. Then it was time to go. When Hot Pie asked if he might kiss milady's hand, she punched his shoulder. "Don't call me that. You're Hot Pie, and I'm Arry."

There was no use trying to convice the Bull of anything. Still, he was the only true friend she had, now that Hot Pie had left them. [...] She missed him more than she thought she would.

#they grew on each other so much one petty fight after another #they annoy each other to pieces but they were there for the other unflinchingly i miss them so much #they're the epitome of “i can't fucking stand you but if anyone is mean to you i'll kill everyone in this room and then myself”#and i think that's beautiful #arya stark #hot pie #harrenhal gang #riverlands gang #asoiaf #valyrianscrolls

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canirove · 4 months

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Friends, lovers… and an orange | Chapter 14

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Masterlist

"I hope your birthday present is the best one ever. I deserve it after tonight" Adele sighed when the car dropped her and Mason at the hotel where they were staying, the launch of his perfum and everything that came with it finally over.

"Thank you very much for this, Addie. It means a lot."

"You're welcome" she said, taking his hand on hers. Holding hands had become something they now did without thinking, something that had become normal and organic for them.

"And about your birthday present… I wasn't going to say anything until tomorrow, but fancy an Italian road trip?"

"A road trip? Where?"

"It's a surprise" Mason smiled, his dimple showing.

"But when are we leaving? Tomorrow?"

"The day before. Tomorrow is a day to relax and recharge."

"I don't know if I'll manage to relax or even sleep knowing that you are taking me somewhere."

"You've been as worried about the launch party as I've been, Addie. So the moment you get into your room, you'll instantly fall asleep. But try to make it to the bed first" Mason smirked.

"It'll try" Adele laughed. "Same goes to you, tho."

"I'll do my best. And here we are" he said, stopping in front of her room's door. "Breakfast tomorrow?"

"Breakfast tomorrow" she smiled.

"Ok."

"So… ummm… Good night, Addie."

"Good night, Mase" she said. Though neither of them moved, their hands still linked together.

"Good night, Addie" he repeated, finally moving and kissing her cheek. Her cheek, or the corner of her mouth, the feeling making her knees go weak. "I'll text you when I'm up."

"Ok" Adele whispered, still trying to process how close his lips had been to hers.

"Good night, Addie. For the third time" he laughed.

"Good night, Mase" she said, frozen in place as she watched him walk towards his room. As he opened the door, he looked at her one last time, giving her a smile that made Adele's stomach flip inside her and that she was pretty sure would show up in her dreams. And it did.

She dreamt about that smile and about his lips almost on hers. Though maybe not just almost…

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Mason, is that… no! It can't be!" Adele said as she looked out the window. They had been on the road for a few hours, laughing and singing their hearts out to the playlist he had made especially for this trip with all their favourite songs.

"Do you recognize this town?"

"Of course I do! My dad took a photo of us looking at something on our cameras in front of that church! I actually printed it and have it in my room."

"What? Why? It is such a random photo" he laughed.

"I don't know. I like it" Adele shrugged. "I have many others from that summer printed. It was one of the best of my life."

"Same" Mason smiled. Though he suspected she didn't remember it for the same reasons he did.

"If we are here… does it mean…"

"Maybe" he smirked.

"Oh my God, Mase. Please tell me you managed to do it. Please, please, please."

"You must be patient, little padawan."

"Little what?" she laughed.

"Just be patient, ok? It'll be worth it."

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"And?"

"It was worth it" Adele smiled as she looked at the view. Somehow, Mason had managed to rent the same villa where them and their families had spent the summer when they were sixteen.

Their parents' original idea had been to do a road trip around Italy, but they soon realized that doing it with two teenagers and two early teens, would not be the dreamy vacation they were expecting. Instead, they rented a huge villa in a small town, which turned out to be exactly what they all needed.

"How did you come out with this idea?" she asked him.

"The perfume" Mason smiled. "Since we were already in Italy for the launch party and it was your birthday month, I thought it would be cool to remember the summer that inspired it all."

"So a whole month in Italy, away from everything and everyone?" Adele said, a big grin on her face.

"And just the two of us" he smiled back. "At least until our families arrive to celebrate your actual birthday. Do you think we'll make it?"

"What?"

"To your birthday. Do you think we will survive spending so much time together just the two of us, or that we will end up hating each other?" Mason chuckled. Though there was something in his voice that made Adele think he wasn't completely joking.

"There is nothing like trying" she replied, taking his hand on hers and giving it a squeeze. "Should we go for a tour around the house? I want to check what they have changed."

"You mean you want to see if they painted over your graffiti" he laughed.

"It was an accident, and it was all your fault" she said, pointing at him with their joined hands. She had been painting her nails in her room and minding her own business when Mason, Luca and Alex decided to scare her, which ended up with the little bottle of red paint all over the wall. They tried to clean it and cover it, but they only made it worse. "You better not try anything like that again if you want to make it alive to my birthday."

"I won't, I promise" he smiled.

And he kept his promise, making the following two weeks and a half basically perfect. They had even found themselves following a routine, feeling as if they were actually living there, as if that was their real life.

They would wake up in the morning and go for a run before it got too hot. Once they were back in the villa, they would make breakfast and eat it while catching up on everything that had happened in the world. Then it was time for a quick shower before going into town to do some grocery shopping, most people saying hello to them as if they had been living there for years, some even remembering them from when they had visited for the first time. "It is impossible to forget women as gorgeous as your mothers" one man had said.

After making lunch and eating it in the garden, they would either take a nap or just chill, most times falling asleep on each other's arms. And then it would be time to go for a swim, sometimes to the little beach hidden just a few kilometres away from town, sometimes in the big swimming pool the villa had.

It had been during one of the days where they had stayed in, that Adele had noticed Mason's eyes following her every move as she got out of the pool and laid down in her hammock.

"Mase, are you checking me out?" she asked him, finding the courage to do it God knows where.

"What? No, no, no, no" he quickly said.

"Then why are you so red?"

"The sun. I guess I didn't put on enough suncream" he shrugged. "Anyway, I think I should probably go for a dip too."

"Sure" she replied, trying to hide a smile.

After that day, they would constantly tease the other about it. And especially at night, when they would go into town to have dinner and enjoy the night, and make themselves look a bit more presentable.

"Addie, are you checking me out?"

"I'm sorry, Mase. But those trousers make your bum look so good…" she had said. Which wasn't a lie.

"That dress also makes your boobs look really good" he had smirked, his eyes going down to her chest and making Adele's cheeks turn on fire. Which was what Jourdan was telling her over facetime after she had finally confessed her feelings for Mason and everything that was going on in Italy. That they were playing with fire.

"Addie, you like each other. You are falling in love with each other. And if you don't talk about it, it may come back to bite you in the ass. Yours and his very nice one. Have you seen his new underwear campaign?"

"Daily and in real life" she chuckled.

"Lucky bitch" Jourdan said. "But I'm serious, Adele. Talk to him before your parents arrive and things get out of hand, messy, or both."

"I'll try" she sighed.

"No, you won't try. You will."

"Fine. I will" Adele replied.

But will she? Will she find the courage to do it? Because their families were arriving in just two days, and she was running out of time.

#mason mount #mason mount fanfic #mason mount imagine #football fanfic #football imagine #mason mount x reader

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