#you shouldn't expect a one direction song

[seeinganewlight]

okay, but like fans yesterday chanting for niall to sing another one direction song, him ignoring them, and then tonight adding another one of his songs is so incredibly sexy like yes niall

[matthewfuckinggraygubler]

You`re the one that I want || Spencer Reid + 18

· Pairing: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader · Category: Smut · Warning: Angst, Dom, Sex, Happy ending. · Words: 2340 · Summary : Spencer and you have been building tension for a long time, and it finally breaks in a primal way. · Inspiration: Grease's song "You're the One That I Want" and the BRUTAL car scene from Deadpool & Wolverine. 😏

· Spanish on Wattpad. English isn't my first language, be kind!

· Masterlist

You had been building up tension for months, trapped in a push and pull of feelings that neither of you could face. That tension, once imperceptible, now manifested in every word, every gesture. What were once shared jokes had turned into venomous barbs, little attacks that slipped in between the daily grind. Any excuse was enough to throw a biting comment or start an argument.

Your UAC colleagues had noticed. They’d tried to mediate, though without getting too involved. But the friction between you only seemed to grow, and nothing—neither words nor warning looks from the others—could calm the storm brewing between the two of you.

The final straw was a trivial argument in the kitchen. You, holding a cup of coffee in your hand, and him, entering carelessly.

"Be careful! You'll spill the coffee," you shouted, trying not to spill the liquid on your clothes.

"Shouldn't you watch where you're going? Maybe that way you'd avoid accidents," he replied with a tone so sharp it made you snap. He walked in to get his coffee, completely ignoring you.

The biting response slipped out before you could stop it. "Oh, sure. Any other orders from the great doctor today?"

"For God's sake, drop that tone. You sound like a 15-year-old," he snapped.

You couldn't resist. "Speaking of kids, when are you going to do something with that haircut? I don't know, something that doesn't look like a rebellious teenager's."

His gaze darkened, fury evident in his eyes. "Shut up," he said, his voice low and sharp like a threat.

"What's the matter? Does the truth hurt?" you pushed, taking it beyond the limit.

"I said shut up!" The tone he'd used was something you'd never heard before, loaded with anger and frustration. For a moment, you fell silent, surprised by the violence in his voice. You felt your face darken as you walked away, unable to continue the conversation.

The next day, the doorbell rang while you were sprawled on the couch, enjoying a quiet Saturday. You weren’t expecting anyone. When you opened the door and saw Spencer, you couldn’t help but feel a knot in your stomach. His face was tense, serious, as if something was eating away at him.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, not bothering to hide your reluctance.

“I want to talk… apologize for yesterday,” he said in a flat voice.

You let him in, but the awkwardness in the air was palpable. The apology was quick and direct, but it didn’t take long before you both fell into another argument.

“Don’t you have anything to say to me?” he asked, his tone laced with insinuations.

“Excuse me?” you replied with a cynical laugh, as if the very suggestion that you should apologize was absurd.

After a scoff, the tension built until it exploded. Frustrated by your attitude, Spencer turned to leave. But before he could take a step, you grabbed him by the elbow, tugging on his jacket.

“Is this your solution to everything? Run away when things get tough?” you yelled, the heat of anger mixing with something deeper.

He turned abruptly, and before you could react, his hand closed tightly around your wrist, lifting it above your head. His body was so close you could feel his ragged breath against your skin.

“Let go of me…” you whispered, but it wasn’t a plea. It was a warning. Your words trembled, not out of fear, but from the intensity of the moment. Yet Spencer didn’t move, his eyes locked onto yours, challenging you, trying to assert his control.

The air thickened, filled with more than just anger. The struggle for dominance was no longer just verbal.

“Let go of me!” you shouted again, but this time your voice was charged with a fury you hadn’t felt before. With all your strength, you shoved him, making him stumble back a few steps. His gaze burned with a mix of surprise and rage, and in that moment, you knew the fight had only just begun. Before you could move, Spencer grabbed you again, harder this time, his fingers digging into your waist as he lifted you effortlessly and shoved you against the wall. The impact was brutal, knocking the air from your lungs, but the only thing that mattered was that explosive proximity.

He didn’t give you a second to recover. His lips crashed against yours, not seeking a kiss, but something much wilder. It was a clash of teeth, of ragged breaths and desperate hands trying to pin each other down. Trying to grab each other’s wrists, to stop the other’s movement. You both gasped, the clash between your bodies awakening something more primal than simple anger. You tried to push him away, but he was faster, his hands now gripping your hips, pulling you closer. The feel of his body against yours ignited a fire you couldn’t control. His fingers slid up your back with wild intensity, as if he was claiming you in the most physical way possible. You bit his lower lip, almost in anger, and his response was a low growl that rumbled in your chest, making you shudder.

“Is this what you wanted?” he growled against your mouth, his eyes burning with a mix of rage and pure desire as his hands began exploring your body without any gentleness. It wasn’t an act of tenderness but a battle for control.

“Shut up,” you hissed, shoving his chest with both hands. Getting space between the two of you was nearly impossible, but still, you kept trying. The friction between your bodies was unbearable, almost painful, but you refused to be the first to give in.

Without warning, you threw a punch at his side, not with all your strength, but enough to make him gasp, giving you a brief moment to free yourself. But he responded with the same intensity, catching you before you could get away, gripping your wrists and lifting you with a single movement, forcing your legs to wrap around his waist. The cold wall behind you contrasted with the unbearable heat of his body pressed against yours.

“You’re too damn proud,” he whispered through clenched teeth, his warm breath brushing against your neck before biting your skin at its most sensitive spot with a force that made you let out an involuntary moan.

You tried to push him away again, but it was impossible. His hands were already under your shirt, yanking it up until he tore it off you. The cold air hitting your bare skin made you shiver, but it wasn’t that that took your breath away—it was the way his fingers dug into your hips, holding you like he wasn’t going to let you move an inch without his permission.

With one swift motion, he lowered you to the floor, but he didn’t give you a chance to get away. He shoved you towards the couch, and before you could react, he had you pinned on your back. You writhed beneath him, your hands scratching at his back, trying to regain some control, but everything was falling apart in that wild battle between desire and rage. You pushed against him, trying to change positions, seeking control, but he wasn’t going to give in so easily. Both your hands were tangled in a constant struggle, alternating between shoves and desperate caresses. It was a fight you both were enjoying and needed more than you wanted to admit.

You yanked his hair, forcing him to look at you as you leaned forward, biting his jaw with an almost animalistic violence, desperate for the passion that was starting to replace the anger. His fingers tangled in your hair, pulling you back, exposing your neck as his mouth traveled down your skin, leaving a trail of kisses and bites that made you gasp. Something had shifted. It was no longer just about a power struggle; passion had taken control. He stood up and lifted you to straddle him, carrying you to the bedroom.

On the way, you frantically tore off his shirt, and your mouths were at war, fighting for dominance over each other’s tongues while one of his hands grabbed your ass and the other clawed at your back. Your hands, on the other hand, tangled in his hair, pulling savagely, helping to steady yourself with each clumsy bump on the way to the next battlefield: the bed.

When you arrived, he threw you onto the mattress, dropping onto you, but you skillfully flipped him over on the bed, using your weight to get on top of him, your legs tightly wrapped around his waist. "Don’t think you’re going to dominate me," you whispered with a defiant smile, but Spencer wasn’t the type to stay still. With a single move, he grabbed your hips and shoved you forward, forcing you to lean over him.

His hands were everywhere. His mouth, brutally insistent, traveled over every part of your skin it could reach, leaving red marks in its wake. The heat between your bodies was suffocating, the tension so palpable it seemed like something was about to explode at any moment. You scratched his chest, biting his shoulders, each slap of skin against skin pulling out grunts and ragged breaths.

"What’s the matter? Don’t like losing?" he murmured, with a dark smile, almost taunting. His face was inches from yours, his eyes burning with that mix of rage and desire that ignited you in a way you’d never admit.

Without thinking, you broke free of his hands just enough to push his face to the side, trying to push him away and, above all, deny him what he wanted—you. But he just chuckled darkly, provoking you even more. That infuriated you. With a growl, you pushed away and kicked him off the bed while trying awkwardly to regain control of the situation, forcing him back just enough to free yourself and sit up.

With a playful snort at your performance, he lunged at you, pinning you to the mattress without giving you a chance to react. His hands gripping your thighs, pulling you toward him with almost brutal force, your breathing was out of control, and your heartbeat raced. There were no more preliminaries, no gentle or considerate gestures, just an unrestrained need to satisfy the hunger that had been simmering for months. You both fought for control, biting each other’s lips, mixing moans and growls between each stolen breath. Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling without mercy, while he responded by thrusting harder with his hips in an attempt to ease his desire, making you gasp helplessly.

"You're unbearable," you whispered, your voice loaded with defiance and need. You said, finishing undressing him desperately, wanting to feel every part of his body.

“Fuck, you turn me on so much,” he confessed, his tone dripping with that dark intensity that only fueled the fire between you two.

In a moment, both of you were completely naked. There was practically nothing left but pleasure, he spread your legs with his knee, and with a clouded mind, he made you his. Every thrust was a violent clash of bodies, a constant struggle to see who had control. Your nails dug into his back, leaving deep marks, while he gripped your hips, dragging you toward him with a force that ripped screams and muffled moans from you.

"You... won’t... win... this," you panted between ragged breaths, your words defiant even as your body trembled beneath his.

"I’ve already won..." he moaned, his voice hoarse, laden with pleasure and fury. There was no room for anything else, just the relentless rhythm, the creaking of the bed beneath you, and the sound of bruised and sweaty skin colliding in an all-out battle.

Your hands, still gripping the sheets, tried to find some kind of advantage, and in a burst of defiance, you grabbed his neck, pulling him toward you to bite his shoulder. He responded by thrusting harder, pulling a mixture of moans and growls from you that filled the room. You suddenly shifted, taking advantage of his confidence to reverse the position, leaving you on top of him, your body pressing against his as he pushed from below. You leaned forward, scratching his chest with a dark smile, your lips descending on his skin in kisses and bites that drew deep sighs from him.

But Spencer didn’t give up, and he had to reassert himself one last time. With a quick movement, he caught you again, flipping you over so that your back was against the bed, your body arching under his as he gripped your hips tightly. There were no more words, only the sound of your bodies colliding, the shared panting, and the rough whisper of your name on his lips.

"Fuck… I’m gonna..." he moaned, which drove you wild.

The climax was as violent as the battle you had waged. A point of no return where control was completely lost. You screamed his name between moans and gasps, your body trembling beneath his as he sank deeper, letting out one final growl before collapsing on top of you, exhausted.

Finally, you both collapsed, breathing heavily, your bodies still trembling from the wild energy that had defined every second of the night, leaving only the absolute exhaustion that made it clear this wouldn’t be the last time. Suddenly, there was no anger, no rage. All the tension of months had been settled. You looked at each other with soft smiles as you tried to catch your breath.

"I won," you said with a smile, calm after the ecstasy.

Spencer snorted in amusement. "Fine, yeah… okay, you won. Will you grant me a rematch...?" he smiled, exhausted.

· Requests via DM ·

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (15/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: Showing your friend your favorite place shouldn't be as romantic as it is.

Warnings: this is soft, like really soft, Charles is cute, everything's cute so be prepared, Charles playing piano

Word Count: 3.5k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: ahhhhhhhhhh. feedback is appreciated.

"Not happening."

You put your hands on your hips and look at your roommate with narrowed eyebrows. "Why not?"

"Because I said so." Charles holds your Renault's car keys tightly in his hand as you stand in front of your car in the underground parking garage. 

Ever since you left the apartment - wrapped in thick, cozy sweaters and warm socks - you've been bickering about who should sit in the driver's seat.

"You don't know where we have to go," you argue, holding out your hand, so he can put the key in it. After all, he really doesn't know where your favorite place is, and for sure you wouldn't tell him if you wanted it to remain a surprise. 

Charles shrugs his shoulders. "So what? You can guide me." He lets the key ring circle around his finger. "But I'm driving."

"But it's my car," you try to change his mind. "And you've driven it the last few times. Both to your place and to Joris and to the restaurant. Would you want to be the passenger princess in your own car?"

Your buddy raises an eyebrow in confusion. "Passenger princess? What's that?"

You cross your arms in front of your chest. "Actually, it's a girl who can't, won't, or shouldn't drive, and that's why she's always driven by her boyfriend." You point to your car. "But I can, and more importantly, I want to drive my car too."

"But you don't have to now." A grin spreads across his face and it becomes clear that you can't win here. "So, be a good passenger princess. Sit in your seat, look pretty, and let your boyfriend drive you around." He walks around the hood and opens the passenger door. "Let's go. I thought you said we were supposed to make the most of the time before I left for Italy. And you can pout on the drive, too."

As he titles himself your boyfriend, your heart beats a tiny bit faster, but you block that out as you follow him and reluctantly plop down in the seat. "Alright, go ahead and drive. But I'll be complaining the whole time."

Charles smiles at you. "I expected nothing less." He closes the door as you buckle up and trots back to his side of the car, where he takes a seat next to you. "So, where are we going?"

"If you'd let me drive, then you wouldn't have to ask," you reply to him, playfully annoyed, letting the seatbelt tighten against your chest. 

The brunette puts the key in the ignition and lets the engine rev briefly. "But you're my passenger princess. So, which way do we have to go?" He presses down on the gas pedal and steers the car out of the underground garage and onto Monaco's streets. 

You pucker your lips into a thin line. "Nice."

Charles' head jerks in your direction. "You traitor." 

You turn to him and cross your arms in front of your chest. "Why is that? It's not my fault there's no place like it here in Monaco."

"Maybe you just haven't been looking properly," he says, turning - reluctantly - at a street sign that says Nice. "There's so much to discover here. So many beautiful things. And they're right under your nose."

You raise an eyebrow. A song is playing softly on the radio, whose name you don't know, but it sounds very familiar. "And what would that be, for example?" you ask. 

Charles' gaze lingers on you for a moment before he looks ahead again. He swallows once and his slender fingers curl around the worn leather of the steering wheel as he turns again to drive out of town. "Tiramisu, for one."

You have to laugh. "I already know that, Charles. That tiramisu was by far the best thing I've ever eaten. So it doesn't count."

He shrugs. "Then you don't have to go all the way to Nice for it." He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, then clears his throat. "I mean, if you've already had the best tiramisu here, then it's not even worth the effort. You can be perfectly happy with the tiramisu here, no?"

You turn another bit in his direction, your hands folded in your lap looking at him. 

The lights of the lanterns on the streets and the last rays of the day's sun bathe his face in a warm gold, his hair hangs slightly in his forehead and the dimples that usually bore into his cheeks are only slightly hinted at as he purses his mouth into a thin line and waits for your reaction.

Is his remark about Nice an innuendo about Lando? That you don't have to go to Nice with him when it's best with Charles? Is Charles then the "best tiramisu"? The one that's right in front of your nose, but you're too blind to recognize? 

Even though you're not blind at all. You see Charles clearly in front of you, you know how beautiful and wonderful he is, and with all due respect, you've even dreamed about him. You know full well that Charles is the absolute best thing that has ever happened to you. But your focus is limited to your friendship, not allowed to spread to anything else for fear that it might affect yours and that it might suffer. 

Charles is your favorite tiramisu. And you don't need to try another to be sure of that. But maybe tiramisu is just a dessert you share out of friendship because it's easier, more enjoyable. A means to an end. 

You smile at your friend. "I'm perfectly happy with my tiramisu here."

A slight blush creeps onto Charles' cheeks, almost certainly from the fact that the heater is warming up the inside of the car and he's wearing a thick sweater. At least, that's what you try to tell yourself. "I'm perfectly happy with the tiramisu here, too."

The rest of the car ride is quiet. The radio continues to play songs that you hum along to as Charles focuses on the road and it grows darker outside. The silence between you is not uncomfortable, but relaxing and comforting. Neither of you feels compelled to say anything, to keep the conversation going, but you simply enjoy the closeness the car gives you before you break the silence and give Charles instructions on which direction to drive. 

When you end up at a narrow road after twenty-five minutes, he turns off the engine. "So, where's your favorite place now?" He spins around a bit, trying to make out something through the windows of the car, but he can't make out anything except houses, small boutiques, and a deserted neighborhood. 

No normal person would venture out of the warmth of their own home in this cold. Except the two of you. 

"Over there." You point to a dark alley from which a small beam of light shines on the asphalt. Your gaze wanders to Charles. "If you laugh at me for that, or talk down to it, I'll hurt you." You knead your fingers in your lap. 

Showing Charles your favorite place makes you incredibly nervous. Showing someone something so personal, so intimate, makes you vulnerable. And if Charles actually thought your favorite place was terrible, or said something bad about it - you don't even like to think about that. 

"Don't worry," he says, putting his hand on the doorknob. "If the place is as great as you are, then nothing bad can happen at all."

Together you walk off, cold winter wind sweeping your faces, and you're so grateful Charles lent you that thick hoodie. Hiding your hands in your sweater, you walk beside him down the street, following the narrow strip of light into the narrow alley. In front of a store with dim lights, you stop. 

You look at Charles. "This is it."

Your friend looks up from you to the store. The petits mondes is a small, two-story bookstore with ivy entwined around its sign. Fairy lights hang under the rain gutter, casting warm light on your faces. From outside, you can see the countless books stacked to the ceiling in the store through the small store window. "Petits mondes? Little worlds?" asks Charles without looking at you. 

"Exactly," you answer him, rocking from one foot to the other. 

"Okay." Charles looks at you and gestures toward the bookstore with a nod of his head. "Shall we?"

Your friend kindly holds the door open for you and lets you enter the store first, and immediately the smell of old books wafts around you. The shelves are overflowing with books so that the boards bend, and even the floor is piled high with copies, so you have to watch where you step. As you stop to let the place sink in, you sense Charles behind you. 

"Show me," he breathes into the back of your neck and goosebumps spread across your body. "Show me your favorite place, mon amour."

Paralyzed, you stand in front of him, feeling his hot breath on your heated skin, and when he gently places his hands where your hips are, your brain seems to short-circuit. His touch burns through your clothes, through your skin and it feels like his touch is twitching through your veins. 

As someone comes up to you from the back of the store, he takes his hands off you. You take a deep breath. 

"Y/N!" An older gentleman stands behind the sales counter. "How nice to finally see you again! Where have you been the last few days?" 

"Hi, Thomas," you greet him with a smile. "I've been incredibly busy. How's Agathe doing? Did she take her new medication well?" You take a few steps toward him as Charles stops in the doorway. 

"Oh, it was terrible at first. She barely ate and slept very little, but she's much better now," he replies before glancing over your shoulder. "Who's your friend over there? Come here, young man, I won't bite."

You look to Charles, whose gaze lingers on you. He follows you and stops beside you. "I'm Charles. It's nice to meet you," he says, a little nervously. 

"Likewise. Make yourself at home here," Thomas smiles at him before turning back to you. "You know where everything is. I'll lock up the store in a good fifteen minutes, but I'll leave the spare key here." 

You nod gratefully at him. "Thank you very much. Please give Agathe my regards, and above all, please continue to get well, won't you?" You take a few steps toward the spiral staircase, which is in the back of the store, before turning to him once more. "And don't stay up too late, or you'll have that headache again tomorrow, yeah?"

"Of course, Y/N." Thomas smiles at Charles. "Go on, enjoy the evening. I'm sure we'll see each other again." Then he disappears. 

"He's nice," says Charles, who joins you but glances after Thomas. 

"He is," you counter him, and together you climb the steps of the steep spiral staircase to the top floor. "Agathe - his wife - is sick, which is why he's closing the store early to get to her faster. They've known each other for sixty years and they've been married for fifty," you tell him. When the two of you arrive upstairs, you look at Charles. "I guess they were best friends at first before they finally found each other." 

Charles' smile is gentle. "And they opened the store together?"

You nod and take a few more steps as you let your outstretched fingers roam over the many book spines on the shelves. "The store is twice as old as we are, and they put so much time and love into this. I think you can tell with every single book."

"With every single little world," Charles adds. "Petits mondes."

The two of you browse through various books until you arrive at a small couch with books piled up on its sides. A table lamp stands on the small column, casting warm light on the dark red fabric. In the corner next to it is an old piano with loose sheets of music. 

"I like to come here when I feel lonely. When I'm surrounded by these many little worlds, I know I'm not alone," you explain your favorite place, Charles listening intently. "Although I've been living in Monaco for months, and even though it's my home, I still feel quite lonely sometimes. And ever since I broke up with Raphael and all my friends dropped me, this place has been my refuge."

Charles drops onto the narrow bench that sits in front of the piano and surveys the slightly yellowed keys. "When was the last time you were here?" 

You sit down on the couch. "The day you stood in my apartment," you reply, a smile spreading across his face. 

"You mean when I was standing in my apartment," he grins, tilting his head. 

You purse your lips. "Do you play?" you ask him, gesturing toward the piano with a nod of your head. 

He shrugs his shoulders. "A little. I started learning to play two years ago, but I'm not particularly good at it."

You prop your elbow on the armrest and rest your head in your hand. "Would you play something for me?"

"Something from the sheets here?" he asks, sliding the loose pages back and forth on the piano, looking for something appropriate for this moment. 

"Whatever you like," you answer him.

Charles nods and raises his hands to place his fingers gently on the keys. He takes one deep breath before looking to you. With a smile, you encourage him to get started, and as he returns your smile, his fingers begin to dance across the piano. 

You watch him as he intently plays a melody you don't know. His eyes flicker as well as his movements across the keys, moving from the high notes to the low ones. The sight of seeing him so in his element, so captivated by the music, brings tears to your eyes. 

He plays with a passion that you would also like to feel for something, and whatever the song is that he is playing there for you, you would love to tattoo on your skin. The warm light from the lamp shines softly on his face as he looks over at you for a moment. 

After a few minutes, when he lets his fingers linger on the keys and the last notes fade away, you have to wipe the tears from your cheeks.

"It's beautiful," you breathe, smiling at him. "Who's it from?"

Charles turns back to you and there's a twinkle in his green eyes. "It's my piece," he replies, looking down at his hands. "I wrote it."

You widen your eyes. "That was from you?" you ask, aghast, pointing your finger at the piano. "Don't bullshit me, Charles. That's really from you?" When he nods, you slap your hands over your head. "And you say you're not very good at it." 

He shrugs. "I didn't write the piece, it - it just came out of me. This place -" He stands up from the bench and spreads his arms, "I can see why this is your favorite place. It's beautiful here, and I'm very grateful to you for sharing all these little worlds with me. It means a lot to me." He tilts his head. "I just hope you don't feel lonely around me and need to seek refuge here."

You get up from the couch and stand in front of him. Most of all, you want to tell him that Charles is the reason you haven't been here since you met, that he is your haven. But you can't tell him that as a friend. Friends don't do that. 

"Thank you for coming here with me." You poke his finger against his hard chest. "And thanks for not making fun of it. After all, it's not as special as the place you showed me."

Charles takes a deep breath. "Everyone has their own experiences that make certain places special. I would never make fun of you. You're too important to me for that." He leans a bit in your direction and tilts his head. "I know it's your place, and I definitely don't want to seem like an intruder, but maybe we can make this our place too. To one of our little worlds," he suggests, pulling back a little, only to reach out to you. "Dance with me, mon amour."

You smile at him. "We don't have music, Charles."

He shrugs. "We can make our own music," he counters, noticing how reluctant you are to take his hand. 

His suggestion to make this place one of yours is lovely, but what would happen if the two of you stopped being friends at some point? Then you would have to find a new place, a new haven - and you definitely don't want that. This place means far too much to you for that. 

You don't know what to say to that, so you just smile and move away from him a little more. A glance at the clock hanging on one wall tells you that you've been in the store longer than you think.

"We'd better get going. We haven't eaten anything decent yet, and it's getting late, and we still have to head back." You make your way back toward the stairs, where you then stop and glance back. Charles' outstretched hand is now in his pants pocket, and judging by the look on his face, you've hurt his feelings. Something you definitely don't want to happen, but you can't stop it either. "You coming?"

Putting a little distance between you, you head down the stairs and hear Charles slowly following you with heavy footsteps. Once downstairs, you reach for the spare key Thomas has left for you. There's a switch under the counter, which you flip as your friend joins you, and all the lights in the store - including the string of lights outside - go out. 

"I don't want the day to end." Even though it's dark in the store, you see Charles clearly ahead of you. His look is a little sad as he walks toward you. A few inches in front of you, he stops. "When the day is over, it's already tomorrow and then I have to go. And then we won't see each other for four days." You feel him reach for the hem of your sweater with his fingers. 

You smile softly at him. "It's only four days. You'll be fine," you try to talk him down, even though you feel the same way. Four days isn't the end of the world - so why does it feel like an eternity?

Charles continues to play with your sweater. "It's our third day together, and I don't know why, but I've already gotten so used to you. To your company, being so close to you." He looks from the hem into your eyes. "It's going to be weird not having you around me all the time."

"How do you think I'll be?" you venture to ask him, and confused, he looks at you. "Well, you're in Italy having your meetings, your work colleagues and I'm here just waiting for you to come home." You push your bottom lip forward. "Not that you'll forget about me and not hear from you."

Charles wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you against his body. Chest to chest, you stand there in the dark bookstore, only the thick sweaters between you, your faces inches apart. If you would just stretch a little, go up on your toes, your lips would brush his. His hot breath glides over your face and you close your eyes. 

"I could never forget you, mon amour. How many times do I have to tell you how important you are to me?" You feel his hands on your back, pressing you against him. Not a sheet of paper fits between you anymore. Heat spreads through your body, and it's definitely not because of the thick sweater. 

"So often, until I believe it," you answer him softly, and there's so much more meaning in your words than either of you can imagine. 

He tilts his head forward a little more. "I promise you that you'll never have to doubt how much you mean to me, even if I have to tell you a hundred times, a thousand times, a million times." His scent envelops you like a cloud and that feeling, what you can only describe as Charles, surges through your body. "I will tell you as many times as you need to hear it, mon amour. In this life and the next. In each of our little worlds."

next part

[leosxrealm]

ꜱᴀᴜᴅᴀᴅᴇ

pairing(s): prince! Arthur Leclerc x male! knight! reader

warning(s): mentions of injury, mentions of death, royal au! forbidden romance(?), angst

(a/n): a lot of backstory and angst. also this was inspired the moodboard i made. and inspired by the song– sign of the times by harry styles. also the dynamic was kind of inspired by patrochilles from tsoa.

wc: 1.6k

!not proofread!

"Y/n! Uncle!"

You hear the high-pitched voice of a young boy. On turning around, you see him running towards you. But he never reaches you.

You let out a sigh. Seeing Arthur trip on his own feet was not an uncommon sight for you. You could never understand how a prince could be so clumsy. You walk over towards him, helping the poor boy up.

"Prince Arthur," your father greets him with a small smile.

"Uncle!" the younger beams.

"What brings you here, your Highness?" your father asks him, curious about why the youngest prince was near the soldier's quarters, which happened to be on the opposite side of the Prince's room.

Arthur stills for a second, gathering his thoughts. "My father has requested your presence. He said something about- about-" He trails off, not remembering the rest of what his father had said.

Your father smiles down at him. You didn't know what he found amusing about him. Your father turns to you, giving you a small smile, "I have to go. Please take care of Prince Arthur and escort him back to his room."

"Yes, father."

---

You look around the hallways as you walk behind the youngest prince. The royal quarters were completely different from what you were used to.

Arthur's room soon comes into your field of vision. It was only a few paces down Prince Charles'. "Do you want to come in?" he asks excitedly, eager to show you the new toys his father had brought from his recent travels.

You accept his request. It's not like you could say no to a Prince; you were a nobody compared to him.

---

You had been practicing your sword skills near the river bank before you were disturbed by the presence of another person. It took you a second to recognize him. After all, you didn't expect him to be here. 

"Hello!" he said after spotting you, his eyes full of innocence and with the biggest smile on his face. 

"Your Highness," you bow, just like you were taught to. He frowned, he never liked how you treated him like a prince. He wanted to be your friend, and friends don't bow to each other. Or act like one was superior.

He quickly changed the topic, asking you to teach him some of your sword moves.

"You have a trainer already," you pointed out, "appointed by the king."

"But I don't like him," he replied, pouting like a child. You sometimes forget that he's a prince. From what you were told, a prince shouldn't act this way. Maybe he got away with it because he was the youngest, you wondered.

"I'm not a teacher," you replied, hoping the annoying boy would go away already. "But you could teach a friend!" Arthur replied happily. You take a moment to answer. "You're a prince. We can not be friends." You walk away from the river, going back to the soldier's quarters.

Arthur watched you walk away from him. He didn't understand why you disliked him so much. All he wanted was a friend.

---

You were appointed to accompany the youngest prince while he went to the local bazaar. He wouldn't let anyone else accompany him and of course, the king couldn't let him go alone.

Arthur had made it known that you would be the only one he would allow to be near him. So upon receiving direct orders from the King, you couldn't exactly say no.

---

His eyes beg you. Trying to covey the words his mouth couldn't. Was it selfish of him? To want you to stay when the kingdom was under attack? He searches your eyes. What was he trying to find?

You step closer to him. Your hand gently cups his face, bringing him closer, till your foreheads touch.

"I have to go," you whisper, your breath tickling his face. A lump forms in his throat. He doesn't want you to leave.

His stomach churns at the thoughts that cross his mind. The 'what if' scenarios running through his mind. He can't shake off this feeling he has.

"Don't." It's so quiet you barely hear it. "Please."

"My Prince." You pull him into your embrace, gently tucking his face in the curve of your neck. One of your hands around his back, the other supporting his head.

"My love," you try to console him. It hurt you to see him like that. It hurt you the most to know you were the reason for his current state. 

"At least..." he tries to say before his own sobs cut him off. "At least stay the night." 

You look at Arthur. He was clutching your vest, scared that if he let go, you would leave. He reminded you of the young boy you had met all those years ago. 

The clumsy little boy, who used to run around the palace barefoot, tripping so often that his arms and legs were scattered in scars. 

The determined little boy, who used to beg you to teach him how to fight because he didn't think he was strong enough to deserve the title of prince. The smart little boy, who taught you how to read and write, something you had never learned because a soldier had no use for such things.

The caring little boy, who stayed up all night once to look after you after you had caught a severe cold.

The sensitive little boy, who cried when he found a dead butterfly in the garden. You didn't have the heart to tell him that those things barely lived for a few weeks. The brave little boy, who fought his father, the king, because the king forbade him from spending time together with lowlifes.

You smile at the memory. Arthur had fought his own father all because he called you a lowlife. You knew your place in the system. It wasn't the first time you had heard such a thing. It's what you were so you didn't ever consider it an insult. 

But seeing Arthur defend you like that, against the king of all people, had really made you see him in a new life.

You tighten your arms around him. You didn't want to leave him here. But this was a war the kingdom couldn't afford to lose. Things had been especially tough on the frontlines. 

"Of course, my love," you reply softly, pressing a lingering kiss to the top of his head. 

---

Arthur woke up the next day to an empty bed. You were nowhere to be seen. Deep inside, he knew you had already left. You were probably about to reach the battlegrounds.

He rolled over to your side of the bed. At least that's what he had been calling it ever since you had started spending the nights in his room. It was already cold.

He tried to sleep again, to get away from the thoughts clouding his mind but to no avail.

Something caught his eye. It was sitting on top of the nightstand. He reached out grabbing the small piece of jewelry.

He recognized it. It was a simple silver chain with your birthstone hanging from it. It was the most precious thing you had. You had told him once. A gift from your late mother.

He carefully wrapped his fingers around it. He knew how much it meant to you. It was your treasure and you had left it in his care. He brought the necklace closer to him. Like he was holding a piece of you. 

He curled up in a ball, weeping quietly. The reality of the situation hit him. There was only one instance he could think of where you would leave behind your most treasured necklace.

---

The Sun had already settled for the day. The stars, shining like little gems in the blanket of darkness. It had been a long day for the two young boys. Sweaty and tired, they laid in the freshly trimmed grass. 

"You did good today." the shorter of the two turned  his head to look at his companion. You had never been the first to start a conversation with him, much less compliment him. Arthur felt himself turning red as you laid there oblivious. 

"Thanks," he meeked out. He turned to look at you once again. Your had laid comfortably on the ground, your eyes closed, the moon that had previously been hiding behind the clouds was now shining its luminance onto you. 

Heavenly. You looked heavenly. It was the only way he could describe you. He closed his eyes, taking in the smell of the grass surrounding him, and of the blooming flowers through the wind. the sound of the leaves rattling, and you.

"I want to learn life with you."

You opened your eyes slowly. It had been so quiet that you barely heard it. You turned to the boy next to you. Or rather the man next to you. He was fifteen, turning sixteen in a few weeks. 

He was no longer the clumsy little boy you had met. He fitted into his role as the prince perfectly. He knew how to fight now. He was attending meetings when his brothers couldn't. His opinions were heard in the council. Everyone had acknowledged him as a man, as a dutiful prince. 

He had even changed physically. He was taller than you remembered. Stronger, even. His muscles were starting to show. His voice was slightly deeper. His hair was longer. He had grown. Before you knew it, a smile had appeared on your face. 

---

He holds the letter close to him, the edges of the paper crumbling under his fingers. The tears staining the paper. It was written in a hurry, he could tell. Addressed to him, sitting neatly on the nightstand next to your necklace.

He wailed.

Please forgive me, my prince. I would not be there to accompany you till the end. I wish it didn't had to end like this. I wish I got learn more of life with you.

I hope we can meet again somewhere. Somewhere far away from here. Maybe in the after life. Until then, take care of yourself, my love.

Love,

Your Knight

(a/n): i've written after soooo many months so its kinda weird and all over the place. and a little rushed. I'll get better when i start writing more eventually i promise🤞🏼i still hope you guys enjoyed it

[fanaticf1fan]

I - Back To The Past

A/N Hello, this is my first fanfiction. please be welcome to give any criticism to help me make my fanfiction better. :)

Also, this fanfiction ay not follow IRL timelines and Rules for the Formula series franchise.

Emilia Schumacher was born to Michael and Corinna Schumacher February 2006, from the moment she was born Emilia had been the apple of her family’s eyes. From the moment she was born the restlessness and need for adventure she undoubtedly inherited from her father. From a young age she was constantly following her older brother Mick around and bonding with her older sister Gina.

She was fortunate to spend a lot of time with her father during his brief, temporary retirement from 2006-2010. Due to this she had stuck herself to her father like glue, expressing her constant want to be exactly like him in any way she could.from a very young age she was set to follow in his footsteps, just like her brother.

When her father returned to racing in 2010 with Mercedes, Emilia was overwhelmed by new people surrounding her, her family now expanding into a grid full of fun uncles and aunts.

When she started Karting at 5 years old, she noticed a few oddities around the track. The first was the lack of other girls there, to the point she seemed to be the only one on the track. The second was the constant whispers and glances that other people had sent her and her family's way. The constant, nagging whispers of her peers doubted that loomed over shoulder everywhere she turned. Her father had sat her down one day and explained that she shouldn't listen to them after he found her crying one day after a meet, huddled under the table tucked into a ball.

“Don't listen to them Shatz, you are my daughter, I will be forever proud of you for whatever you accomplish, don't let anyone make you think any differently.”

When she was 7 her life was thrown into chaos, her father as she knew him was no longer with her or her siblings, he was now just an empty corpse-like shape, lying in a hospital bed relying on machines for life. She spent her 8th Birthday in the hospital sitting around his bed with her family, it had been the first birthday that her father hadn't gently held her as she woke up. There were no birthday pancakes or special songs this year. Just the sound of beeps, the smell of disinfectant and the feel of tears streaming down her face.

A few weeks after her birthday, she started karting again, now under the direct guidance and mentoring of one of father’s close friends, Sebastian Vettel. The two had began getting close after her father rejoined formula 1 with mercedes. He became an older brother figure to her and became her crutch when her father got injured.

She had achieved multiple victories under the mentoring of Sebastian, yet every time she stood on that ever important top step, trophy in her arms, her heart yearned for the one man she had been missing for months. Sebastian of course tried to help heal that hole in her heart, taking over quite a bit of the responsibility over her and her brother while they both competed. Mick and her had formed an inseparable bond, leaning on one another for support. 

Her father had been released from his prison coma in June 2014. She had expected her life to return to normal, however as she looked upon her father, she almost didn't recognise him. He was nothing like the person he was before, their relationship wasn't the same. This broke her heart so bad she decided to simply sink into the shadows of her childhood home.

She had risen through the ranks quickly, she was competing in levels above her age, spending most of her free time practising her skills to help her on the track. She won many races which angered many people but she didn't care. She was fueled with the memory of her father and what they used to be like, her biggest wish was to be just like him, and she was going to ensure she would get there.

By the time she had reached F4, she had gathered quite the ruckus in the media and on the circuit, she had multiple karting championships and wins and the number was only increasing, she had become a number one competitor for many of her fellow races. In 2021, after a well earned win in F4, she was approached by one of her father’s previous teammates, Nico Rosberg. He had kept in contact since the accident but the two hadn't spoken in a while. 

After a few months, Nico became another mentor for the girl, working well with Sebastian to help the girl progress and keep her managed. While Sebastian had stayed as her primary mentor, Nico took the role of her manager, organising deals and sponsors to ensure the girl only raced with the best of the best with the goal of helping her reach her life goal.

In 2022, she entered F3, winning the championship before being almost snatched up by F2 team Prema Racing the next year. Her brother had graduated the team two years prior before going into endurance racing, dominating the field. She had become good friends with her F2 teammate Oliver Bearman. She had begun helping him any way she could, attempting to meteor him the way she had been mentored for the past years.

She was ready to make her dream her reality, and she was so close to the first step in the next stage.

[hobvitr]

hi love, how are you? could you do an earth 42 miles morales x reader in enemies to lovers style? i really want to read this <3 thank you

miles morales 42 x reader

fem!reader

genre/warnings: enemies to lovers (kinda), angst, hurt, mentions of being assaulted, fluff, comfort, kissing, miles 42 may be out of character idk, unrevised writing

note: heyy darling!! thank you for this request! i tried my best to make it make sense and i hope it does! just finished it almost passing out from sleep :p recommended song: don't - bryson tiller

sinopses: your neighbor isn't the most friendly to you and you are intrigued by it, until he help you with a bad situation

you were making your way up the stairs of your apartment, humming the song that echoed throughout your earphones. too distracted looking the at the steps, you bump into someone going the opposite direction.

"oh, sorry-" you quickly apologize looking up to see who was it, and to your surprise, it was your neighbor, miles morales. he just stared at you, not bothering to answer or apologize too, and continued to made his way down stairs.

'damn, what a prick...' you thought to yourself, furrowing your eyebrows as you reached your door, carefully unlocking it with your keys. as you entered your cozy home, you throw your shoes at the entrance and made your way to the kitchen.

you started to rewind a little bit your encounters with morales while you gathered ingredients to cook some dinner, noticing that he never directed One word towards you, you didn't even know what his voice sounded like, just muffled when he was chatting briefly with his uncle and it happened that you heard. some neighbors are a pain in the ass but you didn't understand why he was so avoidant around you. although he was pretty unsympathetic he looked like a good person, because his mother, rio, was an angel.

as you were looking throughout the shelves for salt, you realized you needed to go to the grocery store to get some. you sighed with exhaustion, putting your shoes again and picking just your wallet to go down the street. it was already dark now, your classes ended a bit later than expected so you weren't used to go out alone at this time of the night.

as you walked down the street, you didn't realize you were being followed by some tall and pretty much bigger guy than you. anxiety started to burn into your veins as you picked up your pace, but his pace got quicker too. taking a deep breath you just kept going, not so far to the store, but you felt a strong hand hold your arm, making you flinch.

"where do you think you're going, lady?" the buff guy asked, his hold getting tighter around your arm and you started to tear up with fear. "where do you think she's going?" a low voice comes near you, catching your attention. morales?

"fuck off. now, kid." the guy said, reaching to the inside of his coat, but miles was faster, throwing a punch on his face, making the buff guy look like a little bitch now curled on the ground. your eyes widened as you looked at him, then at morales.

"s-sorry" you stutter at miles, not sure what to say. "shouldn't be apologizing" he replies. "y'kay?" he asks, making eye contact with you, scolding you towards the grocery store, not wanting the man to be near you.

"i think so... yeah.." you breathe out, still shaky from the shock it all was. he accompanies you in the store while you get your salt and some candy, and you almost forgot to thank him for probably saving your life. "thank you... so much, actually."

he nod with a slight smile you almost didn't see. your mind race with the thought of asking him why he didn't like you but still punch some guy for your safety. "i'm sorry for asking, but is there a reason why you never talk to me? did i do something wrong? 'cause i really don't know and i would like to improve if i'm being a pain in the ass" your voice filled with a kind of despair.

he stayed silent for a moment, making you feel embarrassed, but he finally answered. "you're fine, i just don't tend to talk to anyone" he didn't seem convincing, but you got along with it anyway.

there wasn't much mystery, really. he had difficult to get to know new people, you just didn't knew about that. you assumed he was popular between the neighborhood and school, but it was a wrong assumption and you still didn't know about it.

"oh, okay" you replied, slightly relieved you were clear. "well, I'm y/n l/n" you extended your arm for a handshake. "I'm no more anyone" you said smiling to him as he shake your hand. "I'm miles morales" he replied with a small grin.

you kept your optimism now that he helped and talked to you. everyday after that day you said the most sympathetic 'hey' at him, and day after day he was opening his shell to you, replying and catching up to know how you and your family are.

you started to feel weird, getting excited to see and talk to him when you two could. nothing wrong to be happy to see a friend, right? right, but wrong assumption. he wasn't just your friend, he was your crush too. when he appeared with braids you could swear you were passing out at the sight. that was the confirmation to your questions about why you felt weird about miles.

your phone vibrate, indicating a new message. you read 'miles 🐈' on the screen, making you pick up to see what was it.

'can u come to the rooftop?'

'sure'

you replied, putting on a coat that he lent to you and a pair of snickers. you made your way through upstairs and made to the rooftop. you saw him sitting on the edge of the roof.

"what's up, morales?" you got closer to him at his right side, supporting your elbows where he was sitting. you were a bit afraid of doing the same as him.

"hey" he replied, looking at you. for whatever reason you were nervous about meeting him, and you did it almost daily. "why'd you called me here?" you asked nonchalantly, faking tranquility.

"i just wanted to see you" his words came out like honey, your heart melting as you heard it, but you can't show your weakness as you don't know how he feels about you. "that's cute" you tease him, a grin escaping from your lips and he bumps you with his elbow. "shut up" you know he was smiling as he said.

"i was thinkin' earlier... that I'm not being honest with you" he started, making you cut eye contact with him. you knew something was up and now you are sure everything was being dumped in trash at real time. you stayed quiet, not wanting to interrupt his vent.

"i don't tell you everything, i even lie to you" his tone was low, but you could still hear him, and that was the problem. you didn't want to hear anything more and go home to process everything and cry your eyes out locked in your room. "i don't think we can be friends anymore" he stated, your heart swell completely, tears threatening to fall but you were strong to hold back. "i want to make you happy, i want to love you property" he confessed.

your mind was racing now, trying to understand what he meant exactly, you didn't want to be delusional and state you liked him back, what if he was talking about something else.

"i know you're overthinking right now, there's no need" he chuckled briefly, looking at your poor confused expression. "i like you. more than as a friend" he said clearly, not one misinterpretation was possible to happen now.

you finally looked back at him, teary eyed while you chuckled at your situation and the theatre he made just to confess to you. "fuck, you don't confess to someone like this, miles, you almost killed me" your hand was covering your face, letting some tears roll down your cheeks. "i like you too" you confessed, voice mumbled, as you were still shy to admit it.

he was smiling beautifully, both of you with shining eyes. miles got back to the floor, now standing at your side. "sorry about almost killing you" one of his hands traveled to your cheek, his thumb caressing slightly your soft skin. "can i redeem myself?" he ask with a grin and you reply with one as well. "don't get me waiting" he almost cutted you mid sentence crashing his lips onto yours.

even with the excitement of both of you, the kiss maintained a slow and soft pace, making you smile at the moment. miles placed his other hand at your waist, backing up for air. "we have to catch up all that time we didn't kissed each other" he say, getting a chuckle out of you. "we'll manage it" you winked placing your arms around his neck.

[unadulteratedkr]

~Let's talk about credit~

(not financial credit trust me you don't want to take financial advice from me lol)

No, today I am inviting y'all to the table to talk about the importance of crediting other creators in fandom!

Because, listen. We don't have a peer-review system. We don't have to submit our stuff to a plagiarism checker or go through stringent editing when shitposting on tumblr; we operate in an honor system of crafting folklore using our favorite blorbos, and that means that inspiration and using the specific words and images from canon creates a grey area on what ought to be credited, and how to do it in a way that creates a solid, strong community.

Here's a little of my philosophy and how I give proper credit where it's due, so I figured I'd share them to hopefully encourage others in making sure no one out there ends up becoming fandom's James Somerton

1. Links are your friends, use them enthusiastically

Drooled over a gifset that made you write a poem? Read a fic that made you pull out your embroidery hoop? Saw some art that made you write a song? Link to the original! Tag the original artist, hyperlink to the giffer, share the fic via the amazing shortcut button on Ao3, it's what those creators deserve! Even if it's a shitpost, that creator is where your idea started, and it's the right thing to do to share directly where your audience can connect with the person who inspired you.

This holds INFINITELY true if you are directly quoting someone. If you've used someone else's words to create your own work, link back to the original. No one wants to be sent a fic or a funny post on tumblr and then feel the sinking pit in their stomach when they realize that post is their own words with someone else's name on them.

2. Ask for permission when you can

Now, the reason I threw the addendum on this with "when you can" is because knowing when to ask for permission is more of an art versus a science. I myself have written more than one fic inspired by art where I didn't reach out to the artist before I shared the fic because I had no contact with them (the joys of me refusing to touch the garbage that is the bird site). BUT this is why point number one is to always link back to the original inspiration, because I believe that should always be the bare minimum.

THAT BEING SAID.

If you have a way of contacting the original fellow fandom person who inspired you? Reach out and ask them if they'd feel comfortable with you creating something! 999 times out of 1000, they're gonna be over the MOON you want to create something inspired by what they made, and they'll be really fucking pleased you reached out to check.

3. Ask yourself: is this a "two cakes" situation or am I putting my name on someone else's cake?

This is another one that can absolutely fall into a bit of a grey area. I have written many a fic that started out with me reading a take or a fic that went in a WILDLY different direction from what I was expecting or wanted, and I went "okay, fuck it. I'll write my own." And that's absolutely been a great motivator for me to start a project!

HOWEVER.

That is me creating a different flavor of cake, putting my own frosting on it, and probably adding something weird like lemon zest and instant coffee for a lemonade cappucino chiffon that shouldn't work (but definitely does, trust me)

If I were to have read a fic or a take and then gone, "Oh, yeah, definintely, here's the same idea but now I've rephrased it juuust a little and now it's under MY username on my blog".... that's slapping a different color of frosting on the same cake and claiming it's mine. If you find yourself doing that, I really invite you to pause and consider why you felt the need to do so instead of sharing the original post.

Like, not to bring Shakespeare into it (they say, poorly concealing their icon), but fandom can be exactly like how Juliet views love. Sharing joy in what others have created absolutely can be as "boundless as the sea [...] the more I give [...], the more I have, for both are infinite". It does not take away from the joy your fellow fandom friends will have in your own original work to share the work of others.

4. Hyping up your inspiration is FUN

Finally, this is more of me going "no really, proper credit isn't going to mean people love YOU less" because I truly believe in the power of how much FUN it really is to give credit where it's due. I was buzzing for WEEKS in anticipation of publishing Objection! and The 'I Duoy' Newlywed Special because the marvelous @jackuntiljune had brainstromed with me on the name for the boat my boys eloped on. And I get so fucking giddy when I see someone comment on those fics about the name of the boat because I get to take a giant breath and go "MY FRIEND JACK CAME UP WITH IT, AREN'T THEY AMAZING?!"

If you practice giving credit where it's due, I promise promise PROMISE it will become a joy. It's FUN getting to bring more people into the sandbox to play, and I know I love it when there's more than one person out there I can yell at (affectionate) when I've been emotionally destroyed (again, affectionate) by a gifset or art or fic <3

Thanks so much for reading this far! I can't wait to keep sharing inspiration with all of you out there

[starsomens]

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 4 • 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝔀𝓪𝔂 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓽𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮

̩͙‿‿༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿   ‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ̩͙‿

Note: HIGHLY recommend to listen to THIS SONG (here is the YouTube link as well) while reading this chapter!

Warnings: sexual content ahead! Language, sex descriptions, rough sex, dirty talk, possessiveness, creampie, marking, slight degradation, PIV (wrap it up kids!), multiple rounds/orgasms, consenting adults, experienced reader, 18+! A new soft Noah?

̩͙‿‿༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿   ‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ̩͙‿

"Oh welcome ba-oh my....I'll just be in here" Vilma whispers as she came to greet you both home only to find you pinned against the wall by Noah, locked in an intense kiss. She quietly excuses herself from the scene she walked in on.

Your clothes dripped on to the floor as your bodies squeezed together. Noah's lips exploring your cold skin, as his hands slide underneath your soaked shirt, his hands caress and massage at your skin. You couldn't help but shiver both from Noah's touch and the coolness of the house mixed with your wet clothes

"Are you cold flower?" he asked you

"j-just a little" you bite your lip as his gaze comes back to yours

"I guess I should warm you up then, shouldn't I" his hands shift to hold you princess style as he climbed the stairs to the second floor. Vilma made a note to turn the heat up just a bit, to save you from a cold. Instead of heading down your usual hallway, you went into the opposite direction, to what you assumed to be his bedroom. He opens the double doors and revealed a dimly lit room. It was simple, yet beautiful, dark but cozy. Noah sets you down on your feet

“Let’s get you out of those clothes shall we?”

“Y-yeah-“ you start to get your pants but Noah stops you

“Ah, not so fast” Noah Sebastian comes down to his knees in front of you and unbuttons your pants. The clothing falling almost instantly from the weight of the water it retained. Noah guides your feet out of the pants and toss them aside. His large hands caress your calves as his lips kiss from your knee, up your thigh and stopping at your hip. He stands back on his feet, brings his hands to slowly peel off your top and toss it with your pants.

“Can I..” you asked grabbing at the edge of his pants.

“Oh flower, with those eyes you can have anything you ask for” he smirks at you and brings your other hand to his belt as well as he starts to unbutton his shirt. You unbuckle his belt, undo his button and zipper, letting his slacks fall to the floor. He kicks them away as you roll off his shirt, moving on to the tank top. Revealing all the tattoos that covered his body. You had only seen the ones on his hands and neck, but you didn’t expect for him to be covered.

You hesitated to touch his chest at first, until his hand leaves yours to touch his damp skin. It was slowly starting to dry off still had corn from the rain. His hands held yours in place as one of the first and most intimate moments either of you have had together. Your eyes trace his tattoos up to his neck and fall into his eyes once again. His lips quickly captures your food and another kiss. He turns you around and lead you to the bed. He pushes you with enough force to make you fall on the bed. Your body bouncing on the plush mattress as a smirk grew on his face.

He kneels in front of you once again but this time starts at your feet. Kissing you feet climbing up to your ankle, up the inside of your left calf and stopping at your knee

“Are you ready pretty girl?” He asks in a deep voice. One you’ve only heard when he was speaking over the phone. It sent a delicious shiver up your spine and made your mouth water.

“Y-yes..” you answer swallowing hard as you feel his hands slithering their way of your body into your hips. Softly, caressing the skins that was there. His lips continue their journey of your inner thigh just inches away, where you had began to throb an ape. You could feel your breathing getting heavier. Your heart was racing, anticipating the moment that he finally makes contact.

He then lays a warm kiss over your clothed pussy. You wine and your core ooze without being directly touched yet. You can feel his grin against your pussy, pride, filled his chest, knowing that he was able to make you shutter with pleasure without touching you just yet. The tips of his fingers loop around the band of your panties and pulls them down your thighs, over your knees and lets them fall to the ground.

He suddenly pulls you to the edge of the bed, you knees hung over his shoulders. His breath breezing over your exposed core. His fingertips ran over the goosebumps that were forming over your skin. His nails, slightly dragging over the skin, not hard enough to leap the scratch, but enough to elicit more excitement out of you.

Your back shoots up off of the bed when Noah takes the first lick. His tongue take a long slow lick up your pussy, Stopping at your clip to gently nip at it. He flattens his tongue and applies pressure to your clit as he shakes his heads 'no'. he moves down again as his nose bumps your clit, his tongue rounding and prodding at your entrance.

"oh...oh god..." you pant, you've had experiences before, but this was something else. He's barely eaten you out and you already feel ready for an orgasm. Your could feel the tips of his middle and ringer finger, as he slowly pumps in the tips, out, the next knuckle, out and fully in.

You let out a shudder at his actions, the coolness of his fingers contrasting with the heat of your core. He comes up and smiles at your form

"You like that, princess?" you pulse around his finger at the name "Oh you like being called princess?" you didn't answer and so he curls his fingers towards him, brushing past your g-spot

"ah!~" you moan

"Use your words princess," he smirks as he comes down and gives a kitten lick to your swelling bud

"Y-yes...fuck Noah yes...." you whimper out

"Good girl" as his slender digits pump in and out of you while his tongue laps at your folds, spreading your juices. Now Noah is a special case, he eats with desperation, like a starved man who has not had a meal in years. Hearing your moans, feeling you shutter and twitch against him made him harder and harder. He couldn't help himself from reaching into his tight boxers, and wrap his hand around his hard dick. He fucks into his hand as he eats you out, keeping his strokes slow and steady. Hearing your pants quicken, he curls his fingers as he sucks on your clit to push you past the edge

"noah I...I! Fuck!" your hand flies down to his head and you hold him against you. Noah groans against you, you pulse and cum around his fingers. He pulls them out of you and sucks the cum clean off. watching as your legs shake and shiver

"You feeling good princess?" he asked you as he crawls over your body, his arms holding him above your body.

"yeah...yeah...that was so...wow" you admit trying to catch your breath.

"Okay princess, come on" without effort he picks you up and tosses you up more on the bed. He crawls over to you, like a predator who had finally corned it's prey. You maintain eye contact as you unclasp your bra and free your breasts to him, your nipples harden at being exposed under his gaze. He takes his place in front of you, each one of your legs one either hip.

"Tell me Y/N," he starts as his hands glide up your thighs and rest just under your breasts. brushing this thumbs over your buds "Tell me....will you let me, make you mine?" he asked. His own way of asking permission, his hands leaving your breasts and coming up to intertwine his hands with yours

"...yes. Make me yours Noah," you squeeze his hand, confirming what you wanted. In an instant your hands where above your head as you feel the tip of his cock at your entrance. He kisses you deeply as he pushes himself in, slowly but surely. You last orgasm letting his glide right, he stretched you and filled you in everyway you love.

"Oh fuck!" "Shit!" you both curse, you wrapped around him like a vice, so warm and wet for him. He rests there for a moment, letting you adjust.

"You feel...fucking amazing," his lips attack your neck as he starts to pump his hips into yours. Your body moving with each thrust, your head getting lighter, you pussy fluttering around him. Who would have thought that you would end up here, in Noah's bed, having the Best sex you had ever experienced. the way he rolled his hips against you, his lips dragging over your sweet spots, and the way his hand held your hips down on the mattress, and both your wrists over your head.

The sweat and warmth of your bodies together, the weight of his body on top of yours. The absolute dominance you can feel from him did something to your head, and your body. His hand brings one of your legs over his hip to get in deeper, The frame of the bed creeks with each thrust he takes. The rain muffled out in the background as it hit the glass window. You can hear Noah Huffing and groaning in your ear with each thrust he takes. His teeth grazing over the skin of your shoulder.

"Ah fuck right there!~" you moan

"There? Right here pretty girl?" He punctuates his sentence with a thrust, making you jump against him. feeling his cock rub against your spot deliciously. "This pussy...this pussy is mine! No one can make you cum like this...moan like this. Goddamn" You weren't the only one feeling amazing at the moment. Noah cannot deny that he was definitely a ladies man and has had his fair shares of hookups in one night stands. But he also could not deny what was happening in this moment.

For one, he was having sex for the first time with his wife, But there was something more behind it now. There was a feeling in his chest, A sense of pride, possession, and protectiveness. Having sex with you only made those feelings stronger, he felt his role as a husband was now more important than it was at the start. You were gorgeous, intelligent, and you felt incredible around him.

He was just like any man wanting to. have his pleasure, However, he wanted to give you every ounce of pleasure possible. He wanted to hear you moan, and scream his name. He wanted everyone to know who you belonged to. He wanted you to come over and over and over again, as long as it was because of him. He lets your hands go as his other arm wraps around your torso and brings you closer to his body as he continues to rut into you. Your arms swing around his back in scratch at the skin feeling. A familiar coil start to tighten in your stomach once again.

“Noah…mmm Noah…” you moan “a-are you….mine?” You asked him. His lips trail from your shoulder up your neck, and kiss your earlobe as he whispers into your ear.

“ you own me flower. Anything you want, anywhere you want to go, wherever, and whenever you need me. I’m yours.” he breathes into your ear. “And I’m….gonna make you….mine!”

His hands now hold both sides of your hips as he thrust into you. He brought your hips to meet his thrust as he fucks into you harder and deeper than before. His pulsing cock abusing that spot inside of you. Your nails rake down his back short to leave some red scratches by morning.

“N-Noah…I’m gonna…gonna…” you throw your head back onto the pillow, feeling your eyes roll to the back of your head as you begin to see stars behind your eyelids. You can strict around him tighter and tighter as he twitches inside of you, signaling his end. His teeth bite down on your shoulder with a few more messy thrust as he finally finishes inside of you. You too, were pushed over the edge in a body shattering orgasm. Your pussy milked him as he finishes off with just short thrust, riding out both of your orgasms.

The room was filled with panting as you both come down from your highs. His chest bumps against your as you start your breathing. He kisses the spot where he bit down on, apologizing for the temporary pain. Slowly he pulls out of you, watching as his come, oozes out of you. He looks back up at you, finding your flushed face and tired form just as beautiful. Healing down to give you a quick kiss.

“ how about a shower to clean up?” he offered.

“ Only if you scrub my back for me.” You negotiated a deal.

He chuckles “ even after two orgasms you’re still trying to negotiate deal with me?” This may have been the first time you ever seen a genuine smile out of Noah. “ You’re going to be the death of me, flower.” Pulling you up from the bed he wraps your legs around him once again, and carries you to a room connected to his bedroom.

He sets you down on the sink while he runs the water and waits for it to warm up. While you sat there, you can help but take a look at his body. He even has tattoos on his back, the largest piece in fact. Bite your bottom lip thinking about the next comment you were about to make.

“Hey Sebastian,” you call him, making him look over his shoulder “ has anyone told you have a nice ass?”

“ has anyone ever told you have a nice tits?” he fires back walking back to you. He kisses you again, takes a look in your eyes, and then kisses you, and again, and again, and again “ come on let’s get in” he takes your hand and leads you standing shower and closes the glass door. Grabbing the sponge and soap, he ladders it up and starts at your shoulders. Someone who did the type of work does, he sure was gentle with his hands when he came to a shower. Take notice of a second sponge and grab it, lathering it with soap as well as you start on his chest.

 after he finishes with your front, he turns you around and begins to scrub down your bed just as you had asked before. You left a warm water wash over your face and hair, feeling absolutely relaxed under the water and being scrubbed. However, while you were being washed, you felt something tap your ass. Behind you and out for what it was. You had us first expected Noah’s hands when instead you find his dick, hard once again.

“ you really are something else. It’s only been Five minutes.” Chuckled deciding to tease him a bit and push your ass back onto him

“ well it’s hard not to be when you’re in the shower, and with this ass in front of me” he bites his lip as he stinks, and grabs at your right ass cheek “who wouldn’t get hard again?” He lets the sponge drop, his free hand caressing the other cheek. He couldn’t help but grind against your ass, the supple and plush flesh, getting him riled up again.

Leaning forward you, you rest your hand on the shower wall and arch your back. The water cascaded down your back and over your curves beautifully. Noah felt as though he was looking a goddess. Being a lucky mortal who stumbled upon her sacred body.

“You ready for me again baby?” He asks lining himself up, he pushes himself inside once again. The force of him making you stumble forward just a bit. “Fuck…this ass is nice” he growls with a spank to the cheek.

“Might be better than yours…” your joke as you push back on to him, fucking yourself on to his cock “oh fuck….you’re so big..” the water running down your body dripping off your nipples and pussy only heightened your senses.

“Damn right…that’s right, fuck yourself…like a…good little slut” he growls as he thrusts in time with you “my slut. Sexy girl.” One of his hands finish your shoulder, giving him more leverage to pump into you at a better angle.

“Mm rub that clit for me, slut” he commands you, letting his eyes shut in Pleasure. Watching himself pumping in and out of you, your ass bouncing with each thrust, the erotic sounds of your moans and your pussy were straight from a fantasy. He stops his thrusts and just watches you pleasure yourself on his cock. Each time you came back all the way, your back would arch just a bit more. Your moan got just a bit more high bitched.

“Yeah that’s right…work for that creampie baby,” he chuckled “you want another one huh? Want to…fuck….to fill you up, have you dripping.”

“Yes Noah…please again…” you agree as you run your clit faster, feeling your legs shake beneath your weight

“Then cum for me princess, cum for me” rubbing your bud faster as he fucks you just as hard before, you squeal out a moan as your third orgasm shakes your form. Noah continues to fuck into your overstimulated cunt, your moans being fucked out of You uncontrollably.

“So fucking tight…just for…fucking…me!” He fucks your pussy with passion chasing his high again. Finally cumming inside once again. Your body felt warm and full in the best of ways. After tonight you were sure to sleep in tomorrow. Noah brings you back up from your position, to kiss your forehead. His thumbs running over your heated cheeks.

After cleaning up, again, he wraps a towel around you and hands you some of his clothes for you to sleep in. Climbing into his bed, you adjust the pillows to your comfort and slither under the covers. You lay on your side and watch Noah stride into the room, his boxers sat on his hips in a way that made his walk more attractive. He crawls in with you and lays on his side, facing you. His head being held up by his hand as his other came to pick a strand of hair out of your face.

“…are you feeling okay?” He asked you as He observed your features. The way your lips curved and dipped, the shape of your nose, your eyelashes, the heavy blink of your eyelids.

“Yeah…im feeling…good” you answer as a yawn took over your form

“Why don’t you close those pretty eyes little flower? Get some rest.” He offers with a soft smile, something you had never seen before. It made your stomach flip around to see it

“Noah…” you call out to him

“Yes Y/N?”

“…….who are you?” You asked ironically again

“well,” he thinks about his answer as he scoots closer and lays an arm over your waist “I’m…who you need me to be.” He answers

You yawn and let your head fall heavy on to the pillow. Slowly blinking, each one heavier than the last, feeling sleep take over your consciousness.

“Noah I’m….im…sorry” you hush, feeling yourself slip into sleep. He waits a few moments, waiting for your breath to even out. Deep, slow breaths, your mind drifting into your dream land. Reaching over your body he turns off the lamp. He kisses the top of your head and tucks your body into his chest.

“I’m sorry too.” He whispered

He hears his phone vibrate, a notification from his work. He began To reach for it, but stood and pulls his hand back. It could wait until morning, but for now he wanted to hold you. As he held you during the stormy night he stared out of the window and thought to himself.

Did she change me? What have I done? Was this what she wanted? Can I….am I capable of being a husband?…what about the contract…what about….

He shakes his head gently at the thoughts and simply breaths in your scent. You smelled like his soap, but your perfume still lingered slightly. He liked it….he liked you….

He…

He…….

̩͙‿‿༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿   ‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ̩͙‿

[Taglist🥃] @darling-millicent-aubrey @nyxthedestroyerofworlds @cowpokeomens @lenevalentine @lizzyanthony3 @cookiesupplier @lma1986 @missduffsblog @shilohrosechicken @sorrowsofsilence @thescarlettvvitch @twyftwyt @thefallennightmare @thecartelqueen @cind6547 @niicoleleigh @lilhobgobbler @crimson-calligraphyx @notingridslurkaccount @calleyx13 @just-pretend-again @thenoahsebastianfiles @lacktoesandtoddlerants @reader13000 @badomensls @chemicaltendancies @iknownothingpeople @thebadchic @ladispo0p @samanthasgone @laurpartyprogram @blackveilomens @skulliecadaver-blog @flowery-mess

[ruewrote]

𝑎 𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑏𝑒ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑑.

PAIRING: jj maybank x fem!reader WARNINGS: ... GENRE: fluff to angst SONG INSPIRATION: crybaby by the neighbourhood WORD COUNT: 1.1k

navigation | ask | outer banks masterlist

you never thought you would find yourself in this position. sat impatiently, leg bouncing as you waited to tutor jj maybank at your local library.

eyes flickering from the books that lay splayed across the table and your phone screen every so often, he was an hour late. biting on the edge of your freshly manicured nails, somewhere deep down you knew you shouldn't have agreed to help him. not because of him specifically, but it's not like he was exactly known for being on time.

you finally decided that you'd waited long enough, starting to pack away your things when a loud bang rang throughout the room, looking over and of course, there stood jj.

his hair disheveled, vest on backward, his cheeks red as he bent over trying to catch his breath, "i'm sorry, i'm...late ugh!" the blonde exclaimed as he threw himself in the chair beside you, getting a loud shh! from the librarian.

he winced, quietly apologizing to her, still slightly out of breath as he faced you. you pushed your unopened bottle of water toward him, offering a kind smile.

"so what exactly are you needing help with?" you asked whilst flicking through your notebook trying to find a clear page, stopping when you heard his response.

"everything..."

he was behind on all of his work but it was mostly science and history he was struggling with most. that sunday evening the two of you went through the ins and out of what you were gonna do and when you were gonna help him with them.

you both agreed that you'd mostly do the work on weekdays and very occasionally on saturdays, scribbling down the rough draft of the timetable on a piece of paper so you could rewrite it for him later. not missing how his eyes would sneakily trail from your eyes to your lips.

you didn't mention it, but felt your face heat up as you continued to write.

"wouldn't it just be easier if i gave you my number and you could send it to me?" he questioned with a lopsided smile, sort of reminding you of a golden retriever.

snapping out of your thoughts, eagerly nodding saying something like why didn't i think of that sooner? jj reached into his back pocket, sliding out his phone before leaning closer, and handing it to you.

your nails tapped lightly against his cracked android screen as you wrote your information in, then handed it back.

half an hour later you both decided a day to meet up at your house for your first official study session, zipping up your bag, throwing it over your shoulder following jj out of the library.

he pushed the door open for himself then held it open for you with his fingertips so you could walk out after him.

you both said your goodbyes and went your separate ways, you glanced behind you, thinking that he was nothing like how your friends described him to be. besides being late, he was pretty laid back but still took what you were saying seriously.

people judge too much.

people were right.

now on one of your many late-night study sessions with jj dramatically laid on your lap, trying to get you to take a break.

"c'mon all i'm asking is a teeny tiny break, please? my brain hurts." he sat up straight and pouted at you whilst rubbing small circles into his temples.

rolling your eyes giving in, you nodded and he stood up to cheer a little too fast and wobbly sat back down on the bed holding his head in his hands.

"ouch."

pushing yourself off of your mattress, holding your hand out for him to take, "i think this calls for a movie and pizza hm?" a sweet smile plastered on your face, he almost instantly grasps your hand in his, letting you pull him in the direction of the stairs.

thirty minutes go by, the pizza had arrived and the movie was set up. it was his turn to pick what to watch, you were expecting a horror movie. you weren't really a huge fan of scary stuff, but he had been working really hard recently and had done so well on his exams so how could you say no?

you both got settled on the couch, covered by a blanket. jj hit play on the remote, that's when the big bold letters pretty woman displayed on the tv.

you stopped midchew, looking over to the boy who was struggling to get the end of the pizza into his mouth, achieving his goal he smiled happily to himself freezing when he turned to you and saw you were already looking at him.

"what? it's a classic!" he grinned mouth full of pizza and you playfully grimaced at him. you turned your attention back onto the tv, not noticing how he was silently admiring you.

that night you forgot all about studying and having a movie marathon instead, you both needed it. well, that was until j got an urgent call and had to rush home.

it had been a couple of days went by and there was no sign of jj. not one call, not one text. it worried you, the little time you spent together had admittedly impacted you a lot.

so when you sat down at your desk in history and his seat a couple of rows in front of yours was empty again, it made that pit of anxiety in your stomach worsen.

after the bell rang indicating it was the end of the day, you biked straight to his house, using the information he had sent you in a message in the early stages of knowing you.

you slowly came to a stop as you had gotten to your destination, the yellow house run down, vines growing up the side, and the sound of metal clanging alerted you.

leaning your bike up against the wall, straightening the hem of your skirt out, eyes drifting from the overgrown grass to the front door you stood at. a wave of nausea hits you, an eery silence hung over the building.

your knuckles tap a small rhythm into the wood, "get the door!" hearing loud almost angry footsteps on the other side getting closer until it's swung open and you met with a bruised jj.

"i got it..." he shouts back, but cuts himself short when he realizes it's you, quickly looking back into the house before stepping outside with you, closing it carefully.

"what are you doing here?" his words came out panicked. his eyes frantically scanning the area, but yours were focused on the bruises that littered his face, lifting your shaking hand up to his cheek.

"who did this to you?" ignoring his question, trying to figure out who could do something like this to him. he leaned into your touch, but quickly snapped out of it going back to freaking out again.

"uh- i'm okay, seriously! you need to go. i promise ill see you on monday." before you could object, he stepped back into the house shutting the door behind him, leaving you on your own.

© ruewrote.

[matthewkniesys]

full machine - nico hischier

summary: it was a one night stand. it shouldn't have turned into anything else. but then it became a second night and then a third and eventually it became feelings. but nico couldn't ever have the same feelings right?

a/n: this doesn't fully match with the lyrics cause i wanted to make a happy ending but yeah. all the lyrics are in bold. this is based off the song full machine by gracie abrams, which i highly recommend listening to. this is the third fic in the good riddance fic series. you don't have to read the other fics before this one. i hope you like it.

pairing: nico hischier x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ themes no actual smut though, swearing, drinking, reader making poor decisions and angst with a happy ending

good riddance fic series

Nico wasn’t one for committed relationships. You didn’t think you were either. You just got out of a shitty relationship and you just wanted to have fun. But he was Nico Hischier and you were supposed to just pretend he didn’t make your heartbeat a million miles a minute? 

 You and Nico hooked up one night at a bar in New Jersey thinking that was all it was gonna be. A one night stand. Emphasis on one night. You knew who he was but you didn’t care. You were just trying to get over a shitty ex and he was trying to get over the devils being knocked out in the second round. It was a match made in heaven and it led to really good sex. You two spent the night together and then said goodbye, not expecting to see each other ever again. Obviously that didn’t happen.

I’m a rollercoaster

You’re a dead end street

You loved going out with friends on a Friday night. It was the best. You kinda hit pause on doing that while you were with your ex but since he’s out of the picture Friday night is back to being yours. 

Last Friday, you were really reminded why you love going out so much. The partying, the dancing, the guys. Last week's guy was especially special. And honestly you’ve thought a lot about him since. Which usually doesn’t happen. You leave in the morning and then don’t really dwell on what you did the last night with the mystery guy of the week. But last week's guy wasn’t just anyone. It was Nico Hischier. Captain of the New Jersey Devils.

But whatever. You’re thinking of all this while getting ready to go out this Friday. It doesn’t matter though because tonight it’s just gonna be another guy. You know this isn’t the most healthy way to get over a guy. Partying, drinking and hooking up with a stranger every week but it’s fun. And it helps you forget the shit that your ex put you through.

You and your 3 friends walk into the bar, later that night and head straight to get drinks. While you wait for them you sit at the bar and scope out the room. Your eyes roam over the dance floor and the booths where people are sitting. 

Your friend taps your shoulder. You look at her and your eyes follow in the direction her head is nodding. A little gasp falls from your lips when your eyes meet their mark. 

“Hey Y/n, isn’t that the guy you hooked up with last week?” Your friend yells over the music.

You blink once, twice not believing your eyes, but yeah sure enough standing there in the flesh is Nico Hischier. And you aren’t even at the same place as last week.

“Um, yeah. It is.”

“You should totally go say hi. Maybe you can have a repeat of last week.” You shouldn’t listen to your friends. The worst possible choice to make is to go over there. You already thought about Nico too much this week. If you spend another night with him you could end up with these complicated feelings that you didn’t want to deal with. He was a dead end street. He would lead to nothing, nothing at all. He didn’t commit to relationships he told you so much last week. Why would he change that for you? 

But nonetheless you got up and walked right over to him.

But won’t you stay for a while?

I wish that you’d never leave

You tap him on the shoulder and he turns and looks at you. No recognition sparks in his eyes. That makes you nervous. But at the same time why should he remember you? You fucked last Friday and that was it. He’s probably taken many other girls to his bed in just the last week since you had seen him. They were on the road for a five day stretch.

“Um hey?” Nico says, more as a question than a statement.”Should I know you? Sorry I’m just really bad with names and faces. Do you want me to sign something for you?”

You feel tears sting the back of your eyes. You shouldn’t be feeling like this. He was a one night stand, that’s it. Maybe you just need to get him out of your system. Spend one more night together.

“No, I'm not. We spent last Friday night together, remember?”

He thinks for a moment. “Actually, I do remember. Here let me get you a drink, we’ll see where the night goes.” Nico winks at you, grabbing your hand and leading you to the bar.

The night spirals from there. You end up back at your place and the rest is history. When you wake up the next morning to a heavy arm draped across your stomach you automatically think how you want to wake up like this, with Nico everyday. And that’s when you know you’re fucked. Absolutely, no going back fucked. And that scares the shit out of you.

Realizing you want an anti-relationship, only does one night stands kinda guy is terrifying. You want him to stay. To not get up and leave before you even have breakfast. To not leave ever.

But then ten minutes later Nico wakes up. He’s hastily picking up his clothes off your floor and throwing them on. As he’s about to walk out the door he turns and looks at you. Really studies your face.

Then he says, “Could I maybe grab your number? Maybe we could do this again sometime.”

And after hearing that your heart soars.

I know I know better

You're no guarantee

That joy is short-lived. And you knew better than to get your hopes up. There’s no guarantee Nico was ever actually gonna use your number, but you really couldn’t help it. 

You didn’t hear from Nico for the next week. You chalked it up to him being on a road trip. A road trip that went horribly. They played five games and lost five games.

Late on the following Monday night you got a text from Nico saying, hey just got back from the road trip, can I come over? I need to let off some steam.

And even though you know better and you know that this is a bad idea, you say yes.

And for the next few weeks, you and Nico fall into some kind of routine. He texts you, asking to come over and you say yes. You fuck and sometimes he stays to eat or watch a movie and sometimes he goes straight home. And those times hurt. When he comes over and then leaves directly once you’re done having sex. It feels like he’s just using you but still everytime he asks you say yes.

But if you asked me to run away

I’d go easily

It’s always him who asks to see you and it’s always on his time. You know it’s not right but what can you do? It feels like you need to see him almost as much as you need to breathe air. At this point you feel like you would do anything he asks. He could ask you to drop everything and run away and you’d go easily.

I almost lost it

I’ll heal eventually

On and off, never knowing what to expect, hooking up with Nico begins to take a toll on you. He would call you, come over almost daily for a week and build you up. Then he’d be MIA for the next 2 weeks and you’d completely fall apart. 

It was a constant emotional roller coaster and it was getting to a point where you couldn’t do it anymore. But at the same time you needed it. He’d build you up so high and then just let you fall right off the cliff he put you on and then he’d bring you right back up. It was such a toxic cycle but one you just couldn’t break. Because when he made you feel good and happy you were so happy but when he made you sad it felt like your whole heart was shattering. You’re teetering dangerously close to the edge. So close that you could lose it at any moment. You’re hurting really badly.

That being said, you know that even though you’re struggling right now, you’re gonna be okay. You firmly believe that you’ll get better, whether or not it’s with Nico. 

But faster if you’re next to me

Next to me

You really hope it is. You really, really hope it’s Nico next to you. You’ll heal faster. If only he could just love you unconditionally. You would love him back as much as you possibly could. You already do. You give and give and give so much to him and he takes and takes and takes from you. 

I'm codependent

But trying hard not to be

I'm better when you're next to me

You know you get attached really easily. When you find someone you genuinely love, you grab on and don’t let go. And with Nico you really did try hard not to get too attached. Too bad it didn’t work. 

Nico makes you your best self. You’re better when he’s there. You feel the happiest and most confident when you’re around him. You always want him to be around.

I’m a shameless caller

You’re a full machine

But won’t you answer tonight

And say something nice to me

And then Nico doesn’t call for 2 weeks. You can’t even blame it on a road trip since they were on a homestand that whole time. You don’t know what to do. You’ve never been the first one to call and that makes you anxious, but then again this whole situation is making you anxious. You think on it for a moment then you pick up the phone.

It rings and rings and rings. No answer. The beep sounds to leave a message and you start speaking.

“Um hey Nico, it’s Y/n. I just wanted to say hi. We haven’t seen each other in a little while and I was just wondering how you’re doing? Yeah, uh I guess that’s it. Call me back if you have the chance.”

And from there it doesn’t stop. Weeks still go by and you can’t stop calling. Over and over again. Call after call, but one thing stays the same. Nico never answers and he never calls you back after any of your messages.

Every time you call you hope for a different outcome. For him to answer, for him to say something sweet to you like he used to. You need the validation that he used to give you. All you want is for him to pick up and just say something nice to you.

And you don’t have to mean it

You can lie to me

But if you asked me to run away

I’d go easily

It’s been a month of not hearing from Nico. And it’s been hard. You miss him and your heart aches. You want him to come back to you. Why can’t he just answer the phone? Even if he wants to cut it off, why can’t he just tell you straight up? Why can’t he give you the closure you deserve?

He’s putting you through a world of hurt right now. You feel so low and you’re constantly tired. The way he treats you is so toxic but still you can’t help but love him. He could ask anything of you and you would probably do it.

Even after all this time and all this time and hurt you’d still run away with him in a heartbeat.

But do you think we could talk?

‘Cause I’ve been trying to tell you

How you’re the one that I turn to

This past few months Nico’s put you through too much shit. And now you’re kinda over it. Even if Nico never had the same feelings as you, you deserve to know why one day he suddenly just stopped calling. And if you’re never gonna see him again you want to tell him your real feelings for him. Though he’s probably been able to guess from your nonstop calling.

You sit in your parked car outside Nico’s house for a good half an hour before getting out. You’re nervous. This might be the last time you get to see Nico. And though you wish you were over him you aren’t. And you probably won’t be for a while. You might as well get it over with. You get out of your car and make your way up to Nico’s apartment. 

You pause outside his door. Are you really doing this? Is no closure maybe better? No it’s not, you reassure yourself. You have to do this so you can start healing and letting go.

You knock once, and then wait. Suddenly the door opens in your face. You're greeted by Nico. He looks at you with an expression of sadness laced with what might be longing on his face. But that doesn’t make sense. He hates you. Doesn’t he?

“Nico, you’ve been avoiding my calls but we need to talk now. You can’t just leave me in the dark. If you wanted to break things off you could’ve told me, called me, sent a fucking text. It’s not that hard. I fell for you and I love you and it felt like you abandoned me. I understand that you don’t reciprocate my feelings but the way you left wasn’t okay. I just-,”

Nico cuts you off, “Y/n, that’s the exact problem. The problem is that I do reciprocate your feelings. I fucking love you and I’m so scared. I hate relationships. I’ve been hurt one too many times. I didn’t know what to do.” Nico runs a hand over his face and lets out a long sigh.

“I’ve never met anyone like you and when I started feeling more than attraction towards you, I ran. I thought if I distanced myself I could forget about you but I could never. You are the most memorable person to ever enter my life, y/n. You’re so bright and colorful and everyone loves you. I know the way I acted was wrong and how I chose to pursue this was bad but I’m ready to try. You know why? Because I’m never gonna find someone else like you. Every night I stayed up waiting to hear my phone ring with your caller id. I was so scared that at night you were gonna just forget about me and stop calling. And if you think for one second that it was easy to not pick up every single one of your calls you’d be so wrong. I love you, y/n. And I know I have a lot to work on and I know the way I treated you wasn’t okay but please, can we work on it together? I want you to be by my side. I want to try with you. For you.”

Tears prick your eyes and threaten to spill. No one has ever said anything like that to you before. 

You look Nico in the eye, “Okay.”

“Okay what? Y/n, please say yes. I need you.”

“Okay, I’ll try with you. I’m not perfect either but we can work on our shit together. And yeah, you fucked me over but now I know you were hurting too. This whole time, all of those calls, I’ve been trying to tell you how you’re the one that I turn to.”

thanks for reading🫶

taglist: @woodruff-edwards @nicohischierz @makarhughes @cobrakaisb @huggy-hischier94 @boldysswld@cole-mcward48@kashee-h@kjohnson-91 @jackhues @corneliaskates

join my taglist

[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #19] Send To All

warnings: plot stuff!! no smut!!! another cw: jiyeong lol

a/n: this header not being square drives me insane and i could fix it but reuploads are laborious enough as it is lol

soundtrack: self-sabotage - waterparks (this is one of THE bd songs for me hehe)

wc: 3.5k

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

If time flies when you're having fun, then you think it's fair to say you're having the worst day of your life.

Okay, so that's a little dramatic, but your shift has been excruciatingly slow; the hands of the clock above the door taunting you every time you glance in its direction. Admittedly, you are looking at it every 10 seconds or so,  which is making it a hell of a lot more disappointing than it really ought to be.

From the desk, Hoseok watches you with sympathetic intrigue. You've cleaned the same empty table four times now just for something to do. Work is quiet, so distractions are limited.

You had only picked up an extra shift so you that didn't have to spend the entire afternoon letting your imagination run wild thinking about Jeongguk's date - but apparently, your mind didn't get the memo.

The thoughts trundle around your boardgame brain; passing 'go', collecting £200. It skips over the chance card tiles, and opts out of buying anything other than Mayfair. It's the only property you want, and yet you never seem to land on it. Sucks, but such is life.

"You'll wear a hole through the table if you keep scrubbing at it," Hoseok says softly as he takes the cloth from you.

"Sorry," you hum. An awkward smile is offered, as loose hairs fall around your face, glitter caught in the strands that dance in the low evening light. You're even more haphazard than usual today, Hoseok thinks. You choose to explain it away. "Just nervous about Tae's show. That's all. Trying to get a head start on things."

"It's an art space," he says warmly, not wanting you to think he's being critical. The way he smiles is gentle; the creases in the corner of his eyes are even more so. "No one is expecting it to be free of paint. If anything, quite the opposite."

He's right. You know it. It's why you make no opposition when he encourages you back to the desk, and guides you into the chair by the till. There's only one couple in the far corner. Young. Teenagers, maybe. You wonder if they'll make it through university. Likely not.

Cynical bint, you berate yourself. Plenty of people stay with their high school sweethearts. You'd met potentially the best example you'd ever seen of the cliche last night, in the form of the Min's.

You understand entirely why Yoongi adores Seoyeon, so. There had been an ease to her acceptance of you; as if she was inherently meant to nurture those around her, no matter how unfamiliar they may be. By the time you had left the Min's - a little tipsy and with Jeongguk's arm around your shoulders - you'd felt a warm sense of belonging in her company.

There's quiet concern on Hoseok's face a little while later as he watches you dip your bagel into a pot of cream cheese.

The magnitude of his concern only increases when you sink your teeth into the bread and tear it apart.  You're like a tiger ripping apart raw flesh, he thinks.

The scowl that settles on your lips as you chew is only wiped away when you take a sip of your coffee - but there's still a frown polluting your expression.

It's sort of cute how your cheek bulges from the sheer amount of bagel your manage to stuff in there, but Hoseok's worried you'll choke.

"Want a knife?" he asks as you dip the bagel back into the pot.

You look at him - bagel clamped between your teeth, just about to be torn in two - and scowl. Yanking the bagel, you tear it even further apart. He gulps. Shouldn't have asked. Never interrupt a girl and her food. He knows this. Should have known better.

It's just a bad mood, you think. No need for Hoseok to look at you as if you have three heads.

Just a bad mood.

Across town, in a ceramic painting place you've been following on Instagram for ages now but have never visited, Jeongguk laughs.

There's a dimple sitting prettily in his cheek, his teeth on full display, nose a little bit scrunched. He's trying to be quiet - doesn't want to distract the rest of the people in the pottery studio - but there's something so damn funny about Jiyeong's inability to paint anything that even remotely resembles a frog.

She pouts, and lowers her brush. "Stop! I'm trying!"

But then she smiles, too.

No one else notices. They're all far too distracted by their own masterpieces.

It's annoying, because Jeongguk really has created a masterpiece.

Having both been totally clueless as to what to decorate their mugs with, the ceramics instructor suggested taking inspiration from their favourite childhood fairytales. Jeongguk had gone for Little Red Riding Hood - Jiyeong had taken great pleasure in telling him she'd been Little Red for Halloween - and Jiyeong had gone for the Princess and the Frog.

"I know," he grins, as he tries to pretend as if it's not the most god-awful frog he's ever seen. It's kinda cute. In a hideous, kind of way. "You're doing great - no! Really. You are it. It's like... an abstract version of the story."

"Look," she sighs, her pretty face all pouty and perfect despite her hardships. The smile on her face is genuine, and Jeongguk is sort of glad that she's not great at the whole 'art' thing. He doubts it would be half as much fun if she was any good. "Your friend never mentioned there'd be art involved - I fucking suck at arty things."

"Art is subjective-" he goes to reassure her, but she's having none of it. Shakes her head as she laughs. Makes him laugh too. It's easy. The flirting, the fooling around like kids in art class. Almost nostalgic. She's exactly the kind of girl he'd have gone for in his younger years - confident, a reckless tease, remarkably tactile. It makes him wonder why he ever strayed from his 'type'.

Hayun had been a bit of an anomaly. Different. She was a quiet one - cautious, but casual. Funny in a way that Jeongguk couldn't quite understand, but desperately wanted to. Reserved. His childishness had often been met with rolled eyes, and the lack of clear indication about her feelings made him insecure. Put him on edge. Even when they started hooking up. Actually, no. Especially when they had started hooking up.

His strangeness has been making a welcome comeback as of late, as noted by Yoongi a few months ago in Dionysus. You've helped in immeasurable ways. Ways you won't ever be able to understand.

It's Jiyeong's openness - the way she touches his arm, how she dabs at his fingers with her paintbrush - that lets him know she's interested. It stifles the fear. Fills him with confidence.

"You're allowed to say I suck," she grins, leaning into him a little bit. The scent of her perfume picks up in the electric heater, and he finds that he likes it. It's not his favourite, no, but it's pretty nice. Citrusy. He prefers things a little warmer, a little more vanilla. Toasted coconut. Sweet.

He momentarily loses his train of thought. Thinks about the way your hair had smelt in the bakery aisle of the supermarket. Thinks about the way he always lets his nose nestle into the crown of your head before you shower together. Thinks about your room, and how it smells like that - sweet, coconutty - and how the last time he'd been in your room, he'd been inside of-

NOPE.

That thought is very quickly pushed deep down into the darkness of his brain. He can't be thinking about that . Not now.

"Yeah, it's pretty fucking bad," he nods instead, turning his attention back to her mug.

It's impossible for her to take offence when he looks as sweet as he does. He's in a white shirt - bad choice, considering there are speckles of paint all over his arms and even a tiny bit on his cheek - and black slacks, but the look is pulled off so well.

In fact, his outfit is borderline identical to what he wore to the Min's. You'd said he'd looked good. Said that it would be a good date outfit.  And so he'd listened, and had been proven right when Jiyeong complimented his style choice within the first five minutes of the date.

Admittedly, he'd complimented her first. Said that she looked nice, after about a thousand awkward, bashful smiles and half a dozen 'this is so weird,' and just as many 'I'm so sorry she forced you into this.'

Jiyeong had smiled, and assured him it was okay. "I'm glad she did."

And as Jeongguk meets you outside the gym the following morning, he can't help but agree.

He's still got a glow about him; fresh-faced and unwavering despite the rigorous workout you know he must have had. Part of you is glad. Him being at the gym means she at least didn't stay over - which would have been totally fine! You absolutely wouldn't have minded. Wouldn't have bothered you in the slightest . In fact, maybe it would have been better if she had stayed-

Okay, you can't even convince yourself that you believe it, but that's not the point.

He walks with his hands stuffed in his trouser pockets, shoulders a little hunched from the cold air. He's missing a jacket, which is unlike him, you think. You can't tell if there's a blush on his cheeks or if it's just windburn. Maybe both.

"Hello, Casanova," you greet him, smile fond, eyes earnest. The words are lively and melodic as they dance from your lips to his ears, yet the strings of your heart seem to pluck a little out of tune. You just need to adjust them slightly. Tune them. That's all.

"Don't call me that," he shakes his head - but he's smiling. There's a shyness to him. It's not all too unfamiliar, but it's something you've not seen in a while.

"So?" You beam, pushing it aside as you both begin to walk in the direction of 'home'. "How did it go?"

Jeongguk nods as he tries to formulate words. There's a smile on his lips. You can hear it as he speaks. "Good. Yeah... yeah, no, good. Really fun, actually."

"Okay, no, stop being coy," you laugh. "Give me details!"

Jeongguk pauses for a second as he tries to get a read on your face. There's nothing outwardly wrong, he thinks, but he notices that you're avoidant. Your eyes don't linger on his. The smile that comes with your laughter doesn't last as long as it usually does. He doesn't like it.

So he gives you what you ask for, because he thinks that might help. Maybe you've been nervous for him. It's his fault - he forgot to text you back last night, having gone for drinks after the ceramics place. Time had slipped away from him.

He tells you everything - how bad she is at painting (you enjoy this, because you like being better than her at least at something), how she'd suggested a drink afterwards, and how he'd walked her home at 2 AM because apparently neither of them wanted to stop talking. He tells you how he hadn't been brave enough to do anything other than walk, but she'd moaned about the cold and so he'd given her his jacket.

Poor Jeongguk had been so warm from soju and giddy from a date gone well that he hadn't even realised he was jacketless until he was about halfway home.

It explains his lack of a jacket now. You've a heat pack in your pocket. Part of you tells you not to pass it over to him. Would serve him right for being so careless.

And as much as you enjoy being a bitch, you also don't enjoy hearing his teeth chatter together. You say nothing as you pass it over, and push him toward the alleyway that leads up to his favourite brunch spot. At least going there will get him out of the cold.

"I'm so happy for you," you smile. You don't think you're lying. "I told you that you could do it!"

Jeongguk is slow in his reply again, almost as if he's weary of saying the wrong thing. It comes from a place of fear; memories of Hayun, and her reaction the first time Jeongguk had started seeing someone during their friendship. It had been before anything had developed between the pair of them, but it was the first time he'd clued up to the fact maybe she'd have been interested in more.

If he were to explain this, you'd tell him to fuck off for associating you so closely with her. You've never met her, but have convinced yourself that you couldn't be less like her even if you tried. You're nothing like the girl who broke his heart, and you never intend on being anything like her, either.

Then again, can't break his heart if the pair of you never fall for each other - and given the giddy smile on his lips all thanks to Jiyeong, you highly doubt that would ever be an option, anyways.

Seeing him like this - hopeful - makes your heart swell. He deserves happiness. Deserves the world. Or at least, deserves someone who makes him feel like he has the whole world in his palm whenever he holds them close.

"I owe you," he beams, as he beelines for his favourite booth, passing a quick nod to the cashier as she welcomes your arrival. It's so warm in the cafe that Jeongguk thinks he might die. The sudden temperature change is torture. "She, uh - she actually asked if I wanted to hang out next weekend, too. Obviously, I said no-"

"NO?! Obviously?!" You almost shriek, the back of your hand gently smacking against his arm. "You said no?! I thought you said it went well?!"

"It did!"

You don't understand why he's shrieking too, when he's the one who's gone and fucked up all of your hard work.

"Then why the fuck would you say no?!"

"Because!" he interrupts before you go off on a tangent, without hearing him out. "Next weekend is Tae's art show. Show on Saturday, and Sunday is free in case we get fucked up afterwards."

He shakes his head towards you, eyes wide, brows lifted, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world - and now that he's mentioned it, you think he's right.

Good, old, dependable Jeongguk. Wouldn't forget his friend's important events for anything. Not even one of the hottest girls in the whole downtown area could make him forget.

Though if you said this out loud, he'd smirk, and tell you that one of the hottest girls in the downtown area is the reason he remembers.

But it's Tae's event, not yours. He knows that you'd tell him off for framing things in such a way. Plus, the date with Jiyeong really did go well. The idea of acting a little sleazy just for a cheap joke doesn't appeal to him. It would feel distasteful.

And yet it feels wrong not to make the joke. A week ago? He would have done. Your dynamic, though largely unchanged, is different now. There are boundaries that come with dating; ones that he knows damn well to respect, no matter how early on it is.

He never wanted things between you to change. He'd have happily kept things as they were.

Progress has been made, though; a purpose has been served.

He'd never describe your friendship as transactional, but it seems to have worked out that way.

Makes him feel guilty. The feeling simmers in his stomach as he sits beside you, nibbling at his bottom lip. His hands are stuffed into his trouser pockets as he reclines into his chair; a little closed off, but not enough to make you question it.

It's only when you reach over to nudge him - and say, 'hey?' - that he realises he's completely zoned out.

"Hmm?"

"Invite her," you say softly. "To Tae's event. Invite her along. We could do with more guaranteed attendees, and I'm gonna be schmoozing people all night with Tae, so at least you'll have someone to keep you company."

Plus Nabi's invited and you really don't fancy having to deal with her. If Jiyeong can win her over, that's one less thing you have to worry about.

"Invite her?"

"Yeah?"

"You sure?"

"No," you say with so much sarcasm Jeongguk can't help but smile. "I just said it for the fun of saying things."

"That is the kind of thing you'd do," he defends with a cheeky little grin as he sits up straighter. "I just don't wanna... I don't know. Move too fast?"

"It's not like you're inviting her to meet your parents - unless you've also invited them to Tae's?"

"No," he laughs. "Of course I haven't."

"Then you're golden," you assure him.

An extra attendee is an extra attendee at the end of the day. Hell, you think you'd even let Hayun through the door if it looked better for Tae.

"On the subject of golden," Jeongguk sighs as he gets to his feet. "French toast? Iced Americano?"

You nod. Smile a little bashfully. Hate that he knows you so well. Watch him as he walks away, and admire his ass a little (in a friendly way). He's just been at the gym working on it, so you tell yourself he'd appreciate the 'appreciation'.

Your eyes are drawn from his 'assets' when his phone vibrates on the table. You don't let them linger, but you see very clearly that it's an incoming message from Jiyeong. You're not sure it would be considered 'friendly' if you 'accidentally' dropped his phone into the coffee of the woman sitting behind you, but you consider it for a moment. An impulsive thought. That's all. Like when you're driving, and think about the fact you could swerve off the road, or like when Jeongguk gets too close and you think that maybe you could kiss him.

Not anymore, though. That ship has sailed. Lost at sea. Never to be found again. Maybe one day, many many years from now, explorers will find the lost treasure: gold-adorned artworks, swathes of origami birds and more glitter than any single ship could ever hold. Or maybe they won't.

Maybe you're romanticising something that never was for something it will never be.

Who knows? Best not to tempt fate with such mindless dillydallying.

Especially not when you know you're gonna spend the next half an hour convincing him to text her back and just bloody invite her to the show.

You're not sure if you should be pleased or disappointed when it only takes fifteen minutes to convince him. Pleased, you suppose. That's what you tell him you are, at least.

And pleased is also what he is when she replies immediately saying that she'd 'love' to come. Asks for a dress code and a ticket price. Wastes no time. Keen .

(If you were gonna be a bitch (which for some reason is coming naturally today) you'd think she was desperate (but then you remind yourself that you set up this date (with her (because you knew she was keen (can hardly be annoyed about it now, can you? (Stupid))))).

"Cocktail dress, and no ticket price," you smile, as if your brain isn't exhausting you. "She's your plus one. Mates rates."

He asks if you're sure. You tell him yes.

You don't tell him that you've already put the cost of two tickets - yours and his - in the kitty. Everyone else is paying. The pair of you were never going to be an exception - supporting Tae's show is more important than an extra 15,000won in your bank account. You'll just add a little extra for Jiyeong's ticket. No biggie.

Once brunch is done, and Jeongguk has just about finished teasing you for texting the details of Tae's show to Seokjin (you thought the 'send to all' function could be your friend, but forgot that your own inability to delete his number is your biggest flaw), you head in separate directions. Both heading home.

And yet as Jeongguk presses his bedroom door shut only to see a paper bird propped up by his pillows, he can't help but feel like home is across the other side of the city.

Strange.

Not really, though.

Not when you're flopping face-first onto your bed with a groan, and a mumble of an acknowledgement that you'd really rather Jeongguk not bring his new squeeze along.

"Wassup?" Danbi calls through from her room.

Rolling onto your back, you sigh. Look at your ceiling, that's void of birds, and ignore the message that comes through from Seokjin, finally responding to the show invite.

"We have any wine in the fridge?" You call back through to her.

"Always."

"Wanna get fucked up?"

Danbi laughs. You hear her head to the kitchen, and the clink of wine glasses gently knocking together as she opens up the fridge. "Always."

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

[starfish-enterprise]

Reasons I think Alanna the Lioness is is autistic:

since realizing I'm autistic, the more I think about it the more Alanna seems autistic to me. the only books I've listened to recently are Tortall books by going through them all then going back to the first one and listening to them all again (Immortals quartet, the Bekka Cooper books, the Song of the Lioness, Protector of the Small quartet, the trickster books, then Tempests and Slaughter.) going through them again and again I notice more things that I didn't when I was a kid (obviously,) and I'm more aware of the signs of autism since realizing I'm autistic. anyway here are my reasons:

is a girl and wants to be a knight, then actually does become a knight which goes against the societal norms of the time

becomes friends with George, and many others in the court of the rogue, who are in a different social class. she does start out believing nobles shouldn't marry commoners but she gets over that. two of her three romantic relationships are with commoners

she also becomes friends with the soldiers she and John are stationed with when they're fighting in the Drell river valley, and she eats with them instead of going to the fort to eat with the other nobles. she thinks it's silly for them to travel so far when it's more convenient to just eat in camp, which illustrates her disregard of social hierarchies. she is also open to learning from people considered to be "below" her

Alanna fights Ralon of Malven over and over even though she keeps losing, which could indicate she has really strong moral beliefs. she also talks a lot about how she hates lying to her friends

she is described as different from her friends, after yelling at them about how she doesn't want to go swimming, Garry (I think) says "you seem to think we won't like you if you don't do what everyone else does, but did you ever think we like you because you're different?" (not an exact quote but basically

most of Alanna's friends are older than her, in The First Adventure when John asks if she can come to Persopolis, the book says she's thought of as more of "a very small squire" than as a page. autistic people often relate better to people who are older or younger than them than to their peers

throughout the series Alanna is distressed by changes in her body like developing breasts and says multiple times she wishes she were born a boy. this is in direct contrast to Kel who states on several occasions she likes being a girl. this could be because she has to pretend to be a boy, but autistics are more likely to be trans or gender nonconforming

she is described as being very uncomfortable at parties and in social settings

autism is highly heritable (1) her father has several autistic traits. he is very focused on his academic pursuits to the point that he neglects everything else, he doesn't have any friends and doesn't seem interested in any kind of social interaction, he has the fixed rigid belief that all magic is bad because it couldn't save the twins' mother. according to Sir Gareth he had been that way since he was a child. (2) Tom seems to share a lot of these traits with his father. he is also very focused on his studies although he is studying magic, he leaves the management of Trebond to Alanna because he is not interested in it just being a mage, he also seems to have no interest in having friends or being social. according to an NIH study that came up when I googled it if one twin is autistic the other is also autistic 96% of the time

Alanna has to very consciously learn the social expectations and rules for being a boy and being a girl

Alanna goes to Miles for advice a lot, in one of the books it literally says she talks to him so he can explain why people act the way they do and for him to explain their motivations

she is known for her temper and saying what's on her mind very bluntly

she has a talking cat who's basically her best friend if that isn't autistic coded idk what is

there are probably more things I can't think of right now so I might add more later who knows. I also wrote most of this post before and it randomly deleted itself so I'm not sure if I remembered all of my points from before unfortunately.

[tomatoswup]

el chico del apartamento 512⋆ ˚｡⋆୨💌୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

summary: that new boy-next-door Vash from 512 sure is cute! Maybe you should write him a letter~

title translation: the boy from apartment 512

warnings/tags: shy/anxious reader, the usual nerve-wrecking feelings that come with a crush, tesla jumpscare, kabedon! by vash, i edited this at 4am might have mistakes, cute~, Modern!AU

A/N: I....don't know if i wrote this right...but this song had me delusional..... :D,,, I really wanted to write a cute boy-next-door kinda oneshot with Vash and boom, here yall go :P enjoy! I recommend listening to Selena's "El Chico Del Apartamento 512" since this fic was a direct inspir. from the song~

pairing: vash x reader

Life in your apartment complex was, in your own words, quite boring.

Bland scenery, the shouts and complains of neighbors and the ridiculous "problems" that shouldn't even be called problems you had to deal with.

Oh cmon, can't you park in your own fucking parking space?!

But there was a certain someone that made the hell of a place a bit more better. Your new neighbor from apartment 512. You first met him by accident when you dropped the groceries you were hauling up to your apartment one day, to which he helped you and struck up conversation.

From there, fate couldn't help but let the meetings between the both of you continue as the two of you talked more and more. Often times, he'd find you reading at one of the various apartment complex picnic tables, joining you in your times of relaxation.

"You okay?" You asked one day as the both of you sat at the table, sharing a bowl of fruits you had cut up to enjoy the afternoon with. He turned his attention towards you, orange sunglasses resting on his head and mouth full of watermelon causing his cheeks to puff out like a chipmunk "Mfph?"

You had a good ol' laugh as the poor man tried to chew as quick as he could to respond, but truly just ended up almost choking on the poor watermelon. You had to smack him on the back in the end so all the juice left his lungs.

Life, work, and flowers that the both of you liked, sometimes the two of you conversated for hours on end. And sometimes, you two just liked each others quiet company.

You admired that.

But you also admired something else.

ooo girl he was cute.

You couldn't resist the butterflies in the pits of your stomach whenever the two of you took your walks together, coming home from work late nights. The closeness of your shoulders and his made you a bit more delusional than you had wanted to be.

Or maybe you did?

GOD MAKE UP YOUR MIND!

Vash, that was his name, was your boy-next-door crush. To be honest, you never expected to find yourself attracted to someone like him. But man, did he have your heart running its laps.

Every.

Single.

Time.

The glances he would sneak at you from afar felt like honey for your little ol' fragile heart. And no, you never forgot those frequent very frequent times where you would find him knocking at your door. Opening it, there he was, the cute tall spiky haired blonde awkwardly standing there with a flower pot, little flowers already growing inside.

Shifting his weight from his feet left to right, he would use the excuse of "I bought a bit too much for my balcony!" to keep giving them to you.

It was adorable! You never failed to blush every time and whenever he accidentally touched your hand when he handed them to you. You didn't notice his own red cheeks though.

You had a small collection of these plants in your home now that you made sure to water every morning. And as a thankful gesture, you often invited him over for dinner at your place.

That was....flirting right?

Jesus fucking christ you really had no rizz..

You often found yourself lying in bed some nights, not knowing how to address those bubbly feelings of yours towards the dorky man.

How would you tell him either way? How about a date?

Oh no no no, you didn't have the balls to tell it to his face... Did you?

You contemplated for a second.

Nope, definitely not.

If he said no, you would have to think about finding a different apartment at this point.

oh my goddd this was embarrassing..

But cmon now that cute mole on his face? How could you resist those funny faces of his? You groaned loudly into the air as you slapped your hands on your eyes in exasperation.

'What if I write him a letter?' You froze in your mini moment of despair before shooting up from your laid down position. "Okay, okay, maybe this can work." You gasped out, stumbling and slipping off your bed, looking around the room trying to find a pen and paper.

Pen..Pen..Digging out a pen from your bag, you held it up into the air as if it were a holy grail.

Settling with a nice purple colored one and a page from a notebook that you carefully tore out, you wrote your "confession" letter on that messy wooden desk of yours.

That'll do that job! please

By the next morning, you had the letter sealed and ready to be given to him, but damn were you on the verge of wanting to throw up because of how nervous you were.

You even added a cute dried flower on the letter to make it look pretty maybe he could ignore the little tear marks of yours on the note

Okay, go to his door, knock, give him the letter, then run.

PERFECT! Completely foul proof plan!

Wash, rinse, repeat.

You put on one of the more nicer outfits from your closet, and paced around your room a bit before finally leaving the apartment. Letter clenched in your hands, you walked only a few steps from your door until you saw the numbers 512 glaring down at you.

Ummm…

You felt sweatier than usual as you frantically brushed down your hair before straightening your posture. It took you only 2 minutes of self-reassurance before you knocked.

knock, knock, knock

Pulling your hand back, you stood there holding the letter into your chest.

...

...

No response. That's fine! That's totally okay!

You took a moment to breathe in and out before knocking again. Finally hearing movement from the other side of the door, you took a step back, bracing yourself from seeing his face as the door swung open.

"How can I help you?" A feminine voice rung out.

Opening the door was a blonde girl somewhat a bit older than you. Her long blonde hair and piercing blue eyes making you do a double take as your mouth gaped open at the pretty girl. But that surprise was taken over by your heart dropping at the sight. She was wearing a white sweat jacket

His jacket..

HE HAD A GIRLFRIEND!?

'ABORT! ABORT MISSION!' Your subconscious yelled at you as you stumbled to find words to reply to the girl "I-um, well uh-"

The burning feeling in your chest started to hurt as you felt the desire to just drop dead right on the spot. There was no way you just... Oh my god..

Before you could respond, the girl's expression widened into somewhat recognition. "Oh! You're the neighbor from next door! Were you looking for my brother?"

Eh?

"...Y-Yes?" You tilted your head in a somewhat cheeky sweaty smile you were dying on the inside before she turned from you and looked back into the apartment.

"HEY VASH!" She yelled, holding the door open with her back as she crossed her arms, and from the depths of the blue-wallpapered apartment nice choice! you heard his voice.

"WHAT!?" There were sounds of blankets or something moving coming from where he was inside.

Her eyes flickered back to you before giving you a playful wink "I think our neighbor from 511 is knocking at the door! Are they the-!"

"WAIT WAIT WAIT DON'T OPEN IT WAIT!!" His sudden screech emitted before the sudden mess of things falling to the ground and objects breaking echoed through the apartment.

Was he okay?

"GYAH!" You heard Vash yelp before he tripped into your sight right around a corner, shirt half messily on him as he attempted to slip his arm through the hole of the shirt. The scattered scars on his body prominent to your eyes as he struggled for a second.

Wow look at that bod-

You quickly averted your sight, feeling the heat crawling up your neck and into your cheeks as he picked himself off the ground as fast as he could with only one hand. You noted that he didn't have the time to put his prosthetic on in that sudden rush of his.

"T-thanks Tesla!" He breathed out, smoothing down his shirt as Tesla left her spot by the door, leaving it ajar as she gave you a small wave before leaving into the apartment and what you presumed back into her bedroom.

"Sorry about my older sister, she's just visiting for the week..." Vash cleared his throat before leaning his arm his only arm at the moment on the door frame, humorously deepening his voice "So, how can I help a beautiful person on this most wonderous night?"

You giggled at his try to hide whatever happened, the tense muscles in your shoulders softening as you silently held out the letter you had.

"Hm?" His eyebrow rose as he relaxed himself, slowly grabbing the red envelope out of your hand. Turning it around, he scanned the writing on the top.

To Vash

And attached to it, was a red geranium, one of the flowers he had gifted you. He couldn't help but give the envelope a blushed smile before looking back up to ask you what it was.

But there was no one?

"E-Eh?" He stuttered as he quickly stepped outside, only seeing a flash of your body running through your door as you shut it quick behind you.

Did... Did you just run back to your apartment?

Vash let out a pout as his shoulders slouched down, barefoot on the concrete floor of the apartment complex corridor.

"I missed the chance to say it.. Damn it.."

Meanwhile, you had shut the door and slowly slid down it, covering your mouth with your hand in amazement.

YOU DID IT!

YOU ACTUALLY DID IT! YES!

OH FUCK YOU DID IT.

ohhhh shit.

"what did I just do.." You groaned, pushing your knees up to bury your face into.

For the next couple of days, you tried your best to avoid Vash as much as you could. Taking all the early shifts at work, racing into your apartment whenever you saw him sitting at the picnic table with a bowl of strawberries.

Maybe he didn't feel the same way, how could you show your face to him? You were scared..What he would say?

Disgusting?

I'm interested in someone else?

That night was one that had you up late, running through all the things he could say about your letter, bad or good.

But one day. you had been forced to take the late night shift again and found yourself walking down one of the many apartment complex hallways alone. You actually kinda missed your lil nightly talks with him…

"Hey!"

Hm?

Turning your head to the left, you spotted the pretty blonde man, racing down the path in slippers, sweatpants and a long sleeve, no glasses of his in sight.

"V-VASH!?" You squawked out, the man closing in as in a panic, you closed your eyes. Feeling your back hit the hard wall behind you, you were only able to throw a hand out to put a cushion to whatever was happening.

What?

Slowly peeping your eyes open, your vision was covered by the sight of his chest. His large frame practically covering your body and both arms of his caging the sides of your head, most likely to prevent you from meekly escaping.

"I finally.." He let out a deep breath as the hot sensation of it lightly hit your face "..caught you." His gaze only focused on you as you noticed the grip you had on his firm shoulder. Ah... He was trying to talk to you again..

Did the letter not make anything awkward?

"Vash?" Your breath hitched, the intense stare of his eyes just on you making that stomach of yours develop butterflies once again.

"You never gave me the chance to give you an answer.." He muttered before chuckling "Didn't think it'd take me this long to finally see you."

Moving your gaze away and to the side, you tried to escape his eyes in attempt to calm yourself down "I thought I made things awkward...Ha." You gave him a small pained grin, the urge to cry out of humiliation was making the lump in your throat push upwards.

One more word out of you and you'll accidentally let it out, tears and all.

Vash looked down at you with a curious expression before the look of adoration riddled his face "Aw cmon now, look at me. You'll never make things awkward between the both of us..." Hand off the wall, he softly put two fingers under your chin, moving it so you looked back into those endless bright blue eyes of his.

"Ya know, you actually beat me to it first."

"I-I did?"

He gave you a cheeky smile "Definitely, I was gonna come over but.." The corners of his mouth moved downwards "I didn't get to see you anymore. Even after work, I made sure to wait a bit to spot ya. Guess today's my lucky day."

oh fuck, you felt so bad.

he…was actually looking for you.

shit.

"I-" You choked out, silencing Vash as you felt your eyes start to blur with the tears. You couldn't hold it in anymore. All those embarrassing moments and thoughts.

"I was scared about what you were gonna say... I thought you weren't going to like me anymore after that letter…” You tried to regulate your breathing as your furiously wiped the tears out of your eyes “Stupid right?”

Using both hands, Vash slowly took your hands away from your face, before swiping his thumb against the apples of your cheeks "Well, whatever you thought that was gonna do, did quite the opposite.."

Face to face, just centimeters away from each other.

"I like you even more.." His thumb brushing the bottom of your lips as you observed him, eyes still red from crying. But the red of Vash’s own cheeks got brighter and brighter.

"May I?"

And with no words spoken, you nodded and he caved, leaning in. You felt like melting as he wrapped his arms around your sides, those pink lips of his deeping into your own as the taste of mint seeped into your mouth.

The sweet taste of his was one you imagined at night, and have never thought to ever taste until now.

Now that you tasted him, it felt so intoxicating. Every touch of his tongue in your mouth, the grip he had on your waist.

Okay slow it down a little cowboy~

Pulling away for air, the both of you just stared at each-other, eyes wide and quiet.

Until laughter came about, Vash had started giggling and you tried your best to stifle your own until you couldn’t. And the two of you continued laughing as Vash kept you close in his embrace.

"I was wonderingg~" Vash whistled out after getting those cute giggles out of his system "Are you doing anything this Saturday?"

You tilted your head to the right, giving him a shy smile "Not necessarily, I was just gonna order some pizza and stay home alone.."

"Maybee..I can keep you company?" He jokingly puppy-eyed before you gave him peck on the lips just one more time

"Always~"

A sharp gasp was suddenly emitted from your right side, causing you to almost yelp in shock at the sudden disturbance as Vash whipped his head to the direction. And there stood your upstairs neighbor, an elderly hispanic lady and her husband with a little cart full of folded laundry.

"Mire! El chico del apartmento 512 se junto con el rentero de 511. Ay que bonito~" She cooed as her husband nodded in agreement.

You returned a blushed smile, feeling Vash's hand slip into your own.

Oh how sweet!

translation: Look! The boy from apartment 512 got together with the renter from 511. How pretty~

[merlot-and-chardonnay]

A Lark Among the Wolves and Dragons:

Chapter 3

Chapter 2

----------------flashback------------------

You ignored Daemon's question and continued to gather your clothes. You huff a little when you collected your stockings and noticed they were ripped into shreds. You look at your dress and noticed it was slightly torn in the back too.

"You didn't answer my question, Little Lark," the prince speaks again. You huff once more and turn to Daemon in annoyance, "you have any idea how much money I spent on this?" you exasperate, gesturing to your dress. "I'll get you another," Daemon assures. "The fabric that was used to make this was imported from Kovir," you point out, "you plan on going all the way there to bring back more to fix it?"

"Point me in the right direction and I'll be there on my dragon," Daemon shrugs.

"Ugh," you groan, rolling your eyes and got your small clothes on.

Daemon got up, still naked as the day he was born, and approached you.

"What's you hurry? Stay awhile," he insists.

"I can't," you shake your head, getting your dress back on, doing your best not to look below the waistline of the man you fucked, "the princess will be expecting me soon." "The princess can wait," Daemon says, stepping in front of you.

Based on the look on his face, you could tell this man had no shame whatsoever in what he did last night. "I can't stay," you tell him, "I shouldn't be here any longer then I need to. I shouldn't even had done this in the first place." "Why not?" "Well for one, you are a married man," you point out. "Yet, you let that particular detail slip past your mind last night," Daemon says with a smirk.

He was right about that. You felt like a hypocrite, thinking back to the times you've scolded Jaskier for carrying on with married noblewomen back on the Continent. You've seen how many times your half-brother had gotten in trouble for such trysts, and you had sworn you wouldn't put yourself in a similar situation.

So much for that.

"I'm going," you insist, hastily pushing him to the side, "and don't be getting any ideas, prince" you tell him before you leave, "this is not going to happen again anytime soon...ever."

Looking out to make sure the coast was clear, you quietly slip out of Daemon's chambers and sneak your way back to your own.

You slipped out of your torn dress and put on another. You were in the middle of brushing your hair when you hear a knock at the door.

Your heart skipped a beat, hoping it was a summons to see the princess, but thinking it might be Daemon attempting to seduce you for another round. To your relief it was just the servant had come to give you breakfast.

Eggs with bacon and a cup of tea. The tea, you noticed had a unusual taste, but you didn't really think much of it. It was still decent

Just when you thought you could settle down some, you hear another knock at the door and another servant came in, "the Lord Hand, Otto Hightower is here, my Lady," he announces, "he wishes to see you."

You had a look of confusion on your face, "...me?" you frown a bit, "What for?" "He didn't say," the servant answers.

This was perplexing. You didn't know Otto Hightower all that well; in fact, you dare say you've only met him once when he was present at Rhaenyra's nameday feast. You did recall how very unimpressed he was with your songs and ballads that night, but he applauded when the other nobles had, though it seemed to be out of respect more than anything. What could the Hand of the King possibly want with you?

Said Hand didn't seem to wait for your permission as he walked past the door.

You stand up and curtsy lightly as Otto enters your rooms, "Lord Hand," you greet, "to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

"I'm afraid this is no social call, (y/n)," Otto says, looking you up and down with what to be contempt, "there is something I wish to discuss. Some rather...troubling rumors."

"Uh, rumors?" you frown a bit, taking a seat.

"It seems some...certain individuals, servants, have spotted the prince last night," the Hand explains, "romping about in the halls near his private chambers...with a woman. And, you'll have to forgive me, Lady troubadour, for the indelicacy of this situation, but some of them could've sworn that woman was...you."

"Oh," you say, feeling your face turn hot. It struck you as weird though as you didn't recall anyone being present when Daemon took you in that hall last night. And if they were present, why go to the Hand? Wouldn't it have made more sense to talk the king, Daemon's brother?"

Otto raised an eyebrow at that simple answer you made. You were caught in a compromising situation, yet you didn't seem to realize how this could affect your standing with the royal family. Then again you were a foreigner to this realm, he surmised, and therefore not accustomed to the ways proper women, especially highborn women, were supposed to behave in this part of the world.

"I know you are not from this realm," Otto explains, "you hail from this Continent to the East, across the Sea. I understand your sort are not as...restrained when it comes to indulging in certain vices." "MY sort?" you look at the man with a glare. "Women," Otto says matter-of-factually, "you may have been give more reign on the Continent to engage in such indecent acts, but here in Westeros, the women are raised to be proper paragons of virtue. To keep themselves as such until they are married and have bared children for their husbands."

"That must explain why there's so many brothels on the street of Silk," you mutter. "What was that?" "Nothing," you shrug, casually sipping your tea, "is there any particular reason why you're so fixated on my nighttime activities, Lord Hand?"

"You serve the princess Rhaenyra," Otto states, "she is an impressionable young woman who seems to be under the spell of your morbid, and rather vulgar ballads and siren's calls. It is imperative she does not have certain...ideals planted in her head, especially when she's yet to be betrothed and her virtue not yet called into question."

You were then able to put two and two together on what this was really about, "you want to ensure my 'foreign ways' don't corrupt the pure and virtuous princess," you sarcastically surmise, "...along with your daughter the Lady Alicent, the princess's companion."

"So we understand each other then," Otto says, small smile on his face like he'd won some kind of victory, "I do hope you enjoyed your tea. It was specially made for such...awkward situations. But don't expect it to happen again the next time you decide to think with your snatch instead of your head."

You were internally seething at this point; this man practically barged into your chambers (and you could've been naked for all he knew) and had the gall to control you by shaming your sexual choices. And top it all off, he had your tea spiked with contraceptives without your consent; granted, the fact your drank it gave you some peace of mind, but it still didn't change the fact this misogynistic son of a bitch made choices for your body without your knowing.

Daemon may be a rogue and a Lothario, but at least he was straightforward and wasn't one to beat around the bush, unlike this jackass.

Still, you decide to be the bigger person and stand up to face this man, speaking with a sincere voice, "Rest assured Lord Hand, I shall be discrete and will henceforth set an example for the princess and not let my certain non-Westerosi 'lifestyles' influence her in any way."

Satisfied with your answer, Otto nodded in approval and left.

You down the last of your tea, albeit reluctantly as you felt violated but still grateful as even on the Continent, a woman pregnant out of wedlock was generally frowned upon.

Right after another servant came to let you know Rhaenyra had summoned you to play for her.

You nod and grab your lute, "Paragons of virtue my ass," you mutter.

As soon as your time with the princess was over, you quickly walk out, and just as expected Daemon was there waiting for you to run into him again.

"Ah, my Prince," you greet, "Just the man I was looking for." Daemon was surprised, this was not like you to say something like that him, regardless of what he did last night; he expected insults, curses, you insisting that you had no desired to be bedded by him again (maybe some unsavory comments about his manhood while you were at it).

He was not prepared to hear say you were actually glad to see him.

You surprise even more when you pull him in for a kiss, the push him against the wall for another kiss, feeling him up as you did so.

Daemon pulls away for a brief moment, "Not that I'm complaining," he says, "but this cannot possibly be the Little Lark who had made very clear only this morning this would not happen again."

"I had a change of heart," you shrug leaning into him, "you really going to turn me down right now, Prince? I've heard the tales of your exploits on the Street of Silk. You can be quite...insatiable." "What about me being married? You were so adamant to bring that up," Daemon points out. You stop for a bit, but then decided to brush it off; you've already made your bed, you may as well sleep in it.

Sooner rather than later.

And you did drink the contraceptive tea, you may as well make good use of it while you still can.

"I've also heard you don't really like your wife all that much," you attempt to justify, "your Bronze Bitch, that's what you call her right? Besides, marriages like this, even on the Continent, are nothing more than political arrangements. Never stopped anyone from doing what they will."

Smirking, Daemon now pulls you in to kiss him. You moan as he did so, "my prince," you whisper as he moves to kiss your neck. "Call me by my name, Little Lark," you hear him whisper into your ear. "Only if you call me by mine," you say back.

-----------Present Day: Kaer Morhen---------

You were sleeping, something that was really considered a luxury these days since Aemma was born. You found yourself slowly waking though in the middle of the night. This was normally the time your daughter would be fussing about in her crib mostly likely to be fed.

It was quiet right now...too quiet. You feel the bed dipped on the side and look to see Geralt was sitting on the edge, cradling little Aemma to his chest as he did so.

"I didn't hear her fussing," you say, leaning on your elbow and rubbing your eyes.

"I heard her right as she started," Geralt admits, "I thought comforting her would allow you more rest." "I was wondering why I was sleeping so well tonight," you joke, "thanks for that, Geralt. You've really been a big help with Aemma." "No trouble at all," the witcher says, looking at the little bundle in his arms in awe.

Geralt may not be the father, but he seemed to adore the babe. Aemma seemed to feel the same way; Geralt would help out at night when she'd start fussing, and she seemed to settle quicker in his arms then she did in yours.

If anyone had looked and knew Geralt wasn't a witcher, they would almost mistake Aemma as his biological daughter.

It wasn't long though till Aemma started fussing again, nuzzling Geralt's chest.

"Uh, (y/n), I think she might be hungry again," Geralt tells you. "Yeah, babies do get hungry," you say, reaching out so Geralt could hand you your daughter. You give her a kiss on the head and arrange your night shift so you could feed her.

Geralt averted his gaze so as to give you privacy, something that didn't go unnoticed by you, "you're allowed to look Geralt," you chuckle, "we spent many an intimate night together before this, it's nothing you haven't seen before."

"This is different," Geralt insists. He wasn't really embarrassed or anything, but this felt like something of an intrusion; from what little he's heard about babies and mothers, this was their special moment of bonding. The way you'd looked at Aemma during this time felt intimate and private, and it was something Geralt didn't want to disrupt.

You kiss the top of Aemma's head as she stops nursing. You rub her back and rock her till she falls asleep.

"Let me take her," Geralt offers, and you hand her to him. Geralt gets up, carrying Aemma to her crib.

You lay back down admiring the view. For a man with a rough exterior he could be surprisingly gentle; it shouldn't really surprise you, given how well Geralt has been doing raising Ciri. Actually if anything, parenthood really seemed to bring out the witcher's softer side.

Geralt joined you in the bed afterwards. He pulls you in and you give him a kiss, which you return.

Things start to get a little more heated. You feel him up as he hovers over you. He starts to kiss your neck, but he pulls away before things could get any further.

"Geralt?" you speak. "I uh, I didn't want to get carried away," the witcher admits, "I know you're still recovering from your past labors."

You smile a bit. You and the witcher had continued to share a bed since Aemma was born, and though you and him had started to fool around a little more, you hadn't gone all the way with him yet.

"I, uh, I think I want to do this," you tell him. "Are you sure?" Geralt asks. "It's been almost two months, I think I'll be fine," you assure, finding it sweet that Geralt was considering your needs first.

"Alright," Geralt says, placing you on your back, placing a kiss on your forehead, "if this becomes too much, let me know."

You give a sweet smile and place your lips to his again before he works his way down your body.

He lifted your shift slightly and makes ready to spread your legs, however, you stop him. "Are you okay?" Geralt asks, concerned that he may have somehow gone overboard with the stimulation.

"I am," you assured, "but uh...it's just..." "You're not ready?" "No I am," you insists, "it's just...*sigh* things may not be quite the same down there since last you saw it. My body, it hasn't quite been the same since giving birth."

Geralt gives a small smile, leaning down to press a kiss near your thigh, "you're beautiful, (y/n)," he assures, "you're not the first mother to go through this. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

You smile, and you could've sworn you felt a tear escape your eye. Geralt has been nothing but kind to you since you came here. Whatever happened in the past, both with him and the time you've been apart, he accepted you into his home when you were in most need. He went above and beyond to help you out during and after the pregnancy, and he didn't have to. He didn't owe you anything. Aemma wasn't his daughter, yet he was still there for you and for her.

You feel the witcher dive in between your legs, getting you ready for what was to come this night.

----------------flashback----------------------

"Twice in one day and it's not even high noon," Daemon comments in slight laughter as you and him lay in his bed naked and staring at the ceiling. The prince had a content smile on his face as he placed a hand behind his head.

You weren't really listening to him though, you were still reeling from the fact you allowed this man to take you to his bed once again for another tryst.

Why, you wonder. What possessed you to do this again?

It felt good, there was no denying that, but it didn't change the fact this man was still insufferable.

This also may have been a way to get back at Hightower for pissing you off and indirectly slut shaming you, and infantalizing you when he gave you the tea without your informed consent. But since you drank the tea, you made sure it didn't go to waste; it was well put to use.

"What say we make it a third time?" the sliver blonde prince suggests, bringing your attention back to him.

"Uh, I don't think that's a good idea," you tell him, sitting up. "Why not?" Daemon asks, somewhat confused.

"I uh...oh gods, I did it again," you groan, getting out of bed again, "I actually did it again. Why? Why do I keep doing this?" "Because it feels good?" Daemon suggests, "did I not satisfy you?" "No, you did," you assure, "well, you did a lot more then that, it's just...I'm not sure how long that tea is supposed to last."

"Tea?" "Yeah that strange tasting tea that I guess prevents pregnancy, the one Otto Hightower had the servants bring me." "Otto?" Daemon's ears perked up. "Yeah," you nod, "he...some people apparently caught us together last night and...they went and told him." "Oh, that twat," Daemon mutters, getting up to face you, "did he threaten you in any way?" "Only to keep my legs closed lest I somehow corrupt the impressionable princess," you admit, looking down, "the Lord Hand seems to be under the impression us Continental women are fast and loose compared to Westorosi women. I'm not. Yes I've known other men, but I don't just go throwing myself at every single one I chance across. I have standards."

"I know that," Daemon jokes, lifting your chin so you could face him, "Listen, Otto Hightower is a cunt. He's never been fond of me, and he's spent the last ten years or so poisoning my own brother against me with his little network of spies around King's Landing. If you are worried about him causing you harm or threatening your standing with Rhaenyra, I won't let it come to that."

"As for your worries concerning unwanted consequences from our clandestine trysts," the prince continues, "I can have the kitchen servants bring moon tea to your quarters every evening if you wish. They'll be discrete if I command them to be so. That is..if you wish to continue this little arrangement."

"Arrangement?" "You continue to entertain my niece whenever her whims wish so," Daemon explains, "and then you come entertain me afterwards."

You scoff a bit, turning your back on him. "Why deny yourself this?" Daemon leans in to press kisses to your shoulder, wrapping his arms around you, "I think it a fair arrangement. I can give you whatever you wish. You'll be want to for nothing should you accept." "I'm already want for nothing," you say , fighting the urge to moan from his ministrations, "I'm paid well for my services for the princess."

"Ah, but surely the princess doesn't give you this," Daemon smirks into his next kiss, hands starting to roam, caressing your waist and breast. You couldn't help but let out a loud moan, making the prince smirk even more.

"So, what do you say?" he asks.

You sigh a bit, feeling some self-loathing for even considering this offer. But there was no denying that despite how insufferable this man could be, he sure knew what he was doing when it came to pleasuring his partner. You cup his neck and turn to face him. "I shall take some time to consider this offer," you say, tone turning rather seductive, "in the mean time, how about going a third round as you suggested my Prince, I mean...Daemon?"

Smirking, Daemon picks you up, you wrap your legs around him as he carries you back to the bed.

You don't stay on your back for long as soon as he wraps your legs around him, you put your hands on his chest on push him around till you were sitting on top of him.

Chapter 4

Masterlist

[macravishedbymactavish]

Take Me Back // To the Night We Met Non-Spoiler Drabbles (Alex Keller x F!Reader)

| Blog HQ | Modern Warfare 2019 Masterlist | Series Masterlist |

This series has been kicking around in my head for months, and the end chapters I have written for both parts are both glaring and begging me to write the rest. So until I can rub my two braincells together and get some inspiration (when I'm not working) I thought I'd throw out some random, non-specific fluffy bits.

No TW warnings here, just fluffy interactions and Alex being flustered.

"So, I can save you a seat" Alex offered, eyes filling with hope and excitement that faltered the moment you raised an amused brow at him. This was the end your first mission together, your team running alongside his for the last month and a half.

Glancing back over to where your team was packing their things, you jabbed a thumb back toward them. "I'm actually going with my squad, but thanks anyway?"

You shouldn't have found it so endearing and cute watching redness spread across his cheeks and ears. Face falling in realization. Rubbing his neck, he brushed it off with an awkward "of course, fly safe"

"See you around though, right?" You asked, before jogging over to to join your team. Almost missing the giddy look on his face.

Almost.

Wandering through the base, chatting with one of your squadmates about your plans (or rather, lack thereof) for the weekend; you didn't notice the familiar face making its way toward you in the crowd.

"Hey you" he bumped his elbow against yours, falling in step with the two of you. "You're not done putting up with me yet" he teased, smiling over at you.

Rolling your eyes with a playful scoff, you feigned annoyance. Making a comment about never getting rid of him, then.

"Never, ever. I'm like a bad cold, catch me once and….you know what can I try again" he laughed, shaking his head.

"No, no. Keep going, that was really smooth" you teased, watching as he waved a hand in your direction. Refusing to make eye contact.

The three of you continued walking through base, making light conversation until your squadmate excused herself. The two of you walked in silence for a minute, until Alex cleared his throat awkwardly.

"I promise I'm not as…" he gestured toward himself, "whatever this is, normally. I'd love to show you the real side of me"

Groaning, you rolled over to look at your phone. The 0200 alarm ringing. A small, sleepy smile pulling at the corners of your lips as a phone call came through a few minutes after.

"Good morning, my devilishly handsome boyfriend" you teased, voice thick with sleep. Shifting under the covers, fighting off the pull of sleep for just a bit longer.

"Good very early morning to you too, my equally as beautiful girlfriend" he responded smoothly. Slipping directly into details about his day, and how much longer he's expecting to be gone for.

Humming along, pulling the shirt of his you stole closer. Your eyes falling shut as you listened to him talk, voice slightly distorted from the phone speaker.

"You're about to fall asleep, aren't you?" He chuckled, not seeing your sleepy nod as the warmth of your bed and his tone pulled you further from consciousness.

"Go back to sleep, I love you"

"I have this song memorized" he smiled over to you, fingers laced with yours as he continued driving. Looking over at him with wide eyes and raised eyebrows you weren't convinced.

Glancing between you and the road, his smile grew as he chuckled. "What?"

Pausing the music, you shook your head slightly. "You don't strike me as a Bonnie Tyler fan is all"

"Don't need to be a fan to enjoy a classic" he countered, lifting your hands to gesture at the radio. "I'll prove it to you, restart the song"

Reaching over to intertwine your fingers with his, you softly teased: "already backing out on your promises, Killer? Ouch"

Rolling his eyes at the nickname, he glanced at you with a lopsided smirk.

"I'll gladly be keeping one of them tonight"

General Taglist: @bloodonmyhands-1221 @v1naco @bowtruckleninja

Alex Keller Taglist: @glitterypirateduck @deadbranch @gcing-back-to-505

[luckyshotwrites]

Ch. 105 // There's a Thickness in the Air Part 2 // Day 104

Contents (Warnings): Ah yes, it's all coming back. (Angst, character and monster info as always). Read full chapter on A03

Wordcount: 2,000+

Song I correlate to this Chapter: None unfortunately

-------------------------------------------------------------------

(Jan. 26th, Thursday)

Lynette

He was my first kiss. 

My stomach churned at the thought. 

It wasn't how I imagined it—I never considered kissing anyone. I barely been on a date!

I glanced in Alexander's direction. It wasn't Xander's fault. I was the one who played. I shouldn't have. I only did it in an attempt to prevent Lev from winning.

Drake patted my shoulder and assured me he'd try and beat Lev. 

"You don't have to get involved." I reminded him. He didn't have any stake in the games. It didn't stop him from going anyway.

My eyes fluttered up when they caught Alexander approaching. He's coming closer. My abdomen tightened and told me I was about to throw up. I wish I wasn't like this. I hate feeling so queasy. I fought to prevent it. I didn't want to upchuck on him like I did on a past date. I had a good smoothie during our first break; don't spit it up. 

Or if I do, maybe they'll be too disgusted to eat me ever again. I dryly chuckled to distract myself. My hands gripped the side of the table I had my back against. 

I held my breath and turned my head down when his deep thrum entered my ears.

"It wasn't anything." I looked up at him. It wasn't what I expected him to say. I thought he'd talk about how frustrated he was that I played, didn't give up, or something of that nature. He wasn't even facing me. "You don't have to worry about it being your first kiss."

My eyebrows slanted in sympathetic confusion. Is he… I couldn't study his expression—he turned his head more when I attempted. Is he trying to comfort me?

"It was just me clutching you. The same equivalent of me grabbing your wrist to stop you from doing something dumb."

My eyes then dropped into a glare. TRYING indeed. However, my nauseous stomach subsided. I smiled, relieved and admittedly, almost touched. "Thank you, Xander." I lessened my grip on the table.

His shoulders flinched. He flicked his head to me, "Why are you thanking me for telling you the obvious?"

"I'm thanking you because you didn't have to try and make me feel better, yet you did," I said.

"That's-" His lip raised, and he partially bared his relatively normal teeth—he had an extra set of canines compared to most people.

Unlike usual, he didn't move closer. "You're reading too much into it like you always do."

"Maybe," I turned away to temporarily release my breath. I'm not sorry, don't apologize. I told myself and refaced Alexander. "But I'm not taking my thank you back." 

My hands clenched the table edge out of reflexive nervousness. I had been in worse. I didn't feel the same fear I did back then. Here it comes.

We were interlocked in an intense stare. I didn't like prolonged eye contact with him or Lev. I expected him to argue.

Alexander lifted his hands toward me like he went in for a grab, then sharply balled his fists, growled, and turned his head away. "I'll remember that when I win tomorrow's game."

He said, stepping away to the table a short walk from mine.

I dropped my shoulders and nearly fell as soon as my hands unclenched. I recaptured my balance and watched Alexander pull a chair out to sit down.

After I yelled at him that day, he backed down more often. I should be proud of this.

I wasn't. I refrained from asking, as Drake recommended I should, but I wanted to understand what made him run away.

…

Drake

Lev stood with his back to the blonde woman, who scolded Drake as he approached.

The vampire beast knew her crush on Lev, and he couldn't care less about her jealousy. He wanted her face to pucker more, if anything, after her snide comment to Alexander.

Lev ignored her, held the stick near his mouth, and smirked invitingly."You want a kiss, too, Drake?"

Drake physically cringed at the suggestion. I don't like you, Lawless. 

He went to confront Lev for Lynette's sake. None of them would typically want to versus Lev in something so ridiculous. That dragon knows it, and he chose Lynette to start to see her fail.

The breakroom door far behind him opened. It's Zilla because Beatrice is already here. The scrap of the chair told Drake his best friend was getting up.

"If I win, you're feeding yourself to Zilla today." Drake declared, loud enough for her to hear. 

He intended to prevent her from attacking Alexander and to instill fear in Lev's eyes. Instead, Lev's yellow hue flared wildly, showing his eagerness for the challenge. You gambling addict. 

He tapped the stick to his lips. "Then fine." Momentarily, he shifted his sight. "You're off the hook today, Lynette~." Lev chirped and turned his gaze back to tighten down on Drake. "If I win then, Clemente," Drake's head dropped in annoyance. "You'll feed yourself to Zilla on Tuesday for me." 

Fuck you. "Deal."

Lev put it in his mouth and tipped forward to be level with Drake. You're awful. Lev's eyes and slight smile begged him to come closer.

Drake got the other end and stared back. His bangs provided much-needed comfort.

Lev went closer, taking a quarter. Drake hesitantly did the same. Focus on his heart. Drake murmured in his head.

In spite of his impending doom, he refused to surrender. He won't be my first kiss.

Drake could tell Lawless didn't want it either, but the flirty deviant made it halfway. Damn it. Having parted his lips, Drake's gut reaction told him to escape. His breathing wobbled, and his tensing muscles whined.

Drake had no choice. Their lips got far too close, so he snapped his jaw shut and yanked away.

He removed the piece from his mouth and cursed. "I'd rather put my bleeding face in a piranha tank." 

...

Lev

He ate his half of the stick and grinned off his own apprehension, "And I was looking forward to being your first." 

"LIKE HELL," Drake grunted, returning to the table in irritation. "I heard your heartbeat."

Lev snickered and traced his thumb on the lid of the box. I'm aware, and knowing you're always listening is aggravating.

"Lev," Her voice buzzed next to his ear. 

Keeping a smile on his face, he fantasized about grabbing her head and crushing it. He pretended to tolerate her presence.

"Yes?" Rather than teasing her, like everyone else, he hummed in a botheration-filled tone. Not that she knew or cared about the difference. 

She gestured to the box, puckering her plump red lips in a kiss, "It's my turn."

By human standards, in her case, she was attractive. To Lev, she was just a bug. Persistently droning, fighting for attention he didn't want to give her. He rarely encountered a monster like her that wanted him in ways that made him sick.

The worst part was that he was metaphorically bound to keep things civil with her. She was one of the only people who knew about him.

He shifted his eyes to the table Lynette sat at across from Drake. His smile widened, fearfully so.

Soon, he was interrupted by the rattle of nails across his bicep. "Lev?"

He snatched at her hand, holding it up and turning to her. "Are you sure you want to lose, Honey?"

He disgustingly watched the thrill in her rise when he used the nickname she gave to everyone else and clutched her hand.

She squeed, "I won't be losing."

He let her hand go and took another stick out from the box. He forcibly settled his heart and inhaled a deep breath.

He placed it between his lips and leaned near her, offering it. She jumped at the opportunity without an ounce of hesitation.

The sweetness of the stick did nothing for the bitterness she brought by joining the game.

She was an unexpected variable.

Lev planned out what would happen—he expected Alexander to make some stupid mistake and lose to Lynette. Next, Drake and her would engage until one would back down. And the winner certainly would never challenge him because they all thought he'd do it.

He let people fabricate their own assumptions based on questionable statements. He didn't usually lie. He simply said things tailored explicitly for his listeners to craft what "he meant" or "what he'd do."

He fooled many this way, including those on the night crew.

If they got too close, he'd snuff them out and say something to take their attention off him.

Beatrice worked differently. She wanted Lev to hurt her, berate her, and eat her. So he had little to use against her without losing his job, as they'd know if a coworker would use magic or kill one another.

He moved up the stick, and she did the same, too eagerly, puckering her lips as she did.

There was no doubt that his coworkers' eyes were on him. This meant he couldn't back down. If he did, they'd see his vulnerability and question whether he should be taken seriously in the future.

He took more of it into his mouth, sliding further, closer to her heat.

Lev controlled his expression and was grateful the sweat on his head was out of the other's view. I bet Drake's listening.

He said in his head as he rested his lips at the center. In less than a second, Beatrice jumped for the middle, and reflexively, Lev couldn't take it.

He threw up his hand and caught her face, pushing it from his. He worked on his recovery, "You'd think I'd let you get what you want that easily?"

She grumbled, and he let her face go.

No one at the table looked surprised except Drake, who watched him closely.

"Rude." Beatrice pouted her lower lip, and her blonde curls bounced as her head turned. She smiled after. "Hold on, doesn't that mean I win?"

"Correct," Lev said.

He put the box away, subtly wiping the sweat from his brow when his back was to everyone else.

He was humiliated. He picked a game and couldn't follow through. All because of you.

He went to glare at her, but she wasn't beside him anymore. The queen "bee" herself was at the table—Zilla, Alexander, Drake, and Lynette sat. She beckoned Lev to the table and offered Lynette to him.  

A consolation prize to get on my good side? He walked over, resisted the urge to strangle Beatrice for her mockery of his pride, and casually leaned on the table, blocking her from Lynette's sight.

Lynette's reaction to move back as he crept into her space was so much more appealing to him.

"I don't really count today as a victory, so why don't we reset? I'll give everyone a less...physical game tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? Your game day was-"

Lev intervened, almost too desperate to regain some semblance of control. "I didn't know you'd prefer getting eaten to having a second chance."

Lynette's face read defiance, followed by thoughts. Her internal debate looked loud and clear to him. He anticipated her agreement and waited to hear it.

"Fine."

He pulled back, and Zilla bounced up from her seat. And all of them, besides Lynette, grew tense. I forgot she had been waiting, hadn't she?

"Well, you all have about thirty or more minutes left. So...it's my turn for some fun."

Everyone quickly vacated the area, and Lev, being as he was, 'accidentally' pushed Beatrice at Zilla.

...

Hey, you, thank you so much for reading. I'm glad I put out a story that people can enjoy! I hope you continue to enjoy it as WE have a LOT more to go! YOU BETTER KEEP PROSPERING! (Nonnegotiable, as always~).

First Chapter Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Catch up, see some maps/art, or check the latest release dates down below  ↓ ↓ ↓ 

What I’d do for a Livable Income Part 2 (Synopsis/Chapter - List)