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#{also this got long... you don't have to match length!}
freewillacquired · 7 months
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In a world ravaged by a virus that primarily creates monsters, nasty encounters are in no short supply. When Rain begins to hear heavy footfalls—when she feels them practically shaking the ground beneath her, she figures she's about to have another.
Cursing under her breath, she unholsters her gun.
The days were blending together in depressing ways now. Nemesis was shocked at how quickly things had gone to hell after the Hive and Raccoon City Incidents. It had taken him quite a while to regenerate after the city's "sanitation," but once he was on his feet again, he realized the gravity of what was happening to the world.
Alone and with nothing left to do in his current mutated state, Nemesis had taken to showing up at Umbrella facilities unannounced, and destroying as much of them as he could. The digital feed supplied by the retinal implant attached to his right eye and sewn up into his head gave him a lot of useful information, especially after his mind was liberated from Umbrella's control. May as well put it to good use, right?
He'd acquired more clothes and equipment this way, with the boots and leather trenchcoat-style getup being standard issues for a creature called a Tyrant, which he apparently now was. They seemed just about the only things that were going to fit his... unique body shape nowadays.
Learning about himself and destroying Umbrella assets were good pastimes, but Nemesis was extremely lonely. The few survivors he came across now and then either screamed and ran from him or shot at him. Bullet wounds were nothing more than annoying mosquito bites to him now, thanks to his thick hide, but even so... it was demoralizing. All he wanted to do was help. He was almost getting used to being alone all the time, by necessity rather than desire, until that unexpectedly changed. While exploring a city one day, he rounded a corner and-
"Raaaain!" Nemesis bellowed the moment he saw her, unable to contain his excitement upon seeing her. "Oh... ny god!" He couldn't believe his eyes. Well, eye. He still had two, but one was... indisposed. In a move that probably looked damn near ridiculous to the other, he lifted his hand... and waved to her. "I'n so glad... to see you! How... are you... alithe... right now?" he tried to ask, his massive chompers getting in the way, as usual.
Nemesis couldn't get his voice to be anything other than a monotone growl, and with monstrous teeth and a noticeable lack of lips, his speech was something of a garbled mess. It took him a while, but he'd learned to make certain sounds in other ways, using his throat and tongue. Essentially, he'd had to relearn how to speak. Some sounds and words, though, were lost forever. None of that did anything to curb his enthusiasm at seeing Rain alive, however. Was he finally losing his mind? Hallucinating, maybe? No, the target identification system is identifying her as Rain... Right now, Nemesis didn't care either way. Just the sight of her was one for sore eyes, since his last clear memory of her was being at death's door.
"I thought... the anti-thirus... didn't work...?" he said, his elation at seeing her alive completely overriding his common sense. Nemesis wasn't thinking about the fact that Rain wouldn't recognize him anymore, or about how negatively she would likely react to seeing the hulking beast before her. Not to mention his tentacles, rooted at the backs of his shoulders, which were excitedly coiling and undulating in their own right, reacting to his surprise and happiness. He batted one of them with his hand. "Cut it out...!" he admonished the obnoxious appendage. It recoiled temporarily before returning to its idle activities.
Then it dawned on him, especially with how she had her gun at the ready. Oh no... she has no idea who I am. "It's Natt," he said, laying his hand on his chest. "Natt... Ad-di-son." How pathetic is it that I can't even say my own name correctly anymore? he thought grimly.
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osoreruna · 4 months
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WOULD ALSO LIKE TO PUT THIS OUT THERE: i will not always match reply lengths. and i don't expect YOU to either !! my replies are always very forward-driven. i will ALWAYS make sure that there’s something in my reply for your muse to respond / react to. i want to give you inspiration to reply to my threads, i want you to WANT to respond to my threads, not for it to feel like a chore. probably my one and only pet peeve is stop-n-go threads; which i like to describe as a few different types of threads: ( feel free to scroll past the rest of this post, unless you're truly that bored...my main point is up there at the top. )
one is where the thread progression is heavily one sided, meaning only one party is putting in the work to keep the plot moving. another is threads where there’s very distinguishable ‘ruts’ or ‘filler’ moments that slow down the progression that, probably didn’t need to be roleplayed out to the fullest; like those episodes of your favorite TV show that left you with that ‘we accomplished nothing’ feeling at the end. the last is backtracking threads, which typically happens when one party types up two or more interactive moments in one reply; this forces the other party to ‘backtrack’ in their reply ( essentially ‘overlapping’ their muses reactions / dialogue with the first reply ), creating this weird-to-read wall of text that makes comprehension 10x more difficult for all parties involved. and it usually scuffs one party’s opportunity to properly react in character !
this all makes roleplaying a hassle and a bit exhausting.
the reason i’m bringing all this up ? is because, occasionally, you might get a reply from me that seems blunt, and probably very short, compared to yours or previous replies of mine. but the reason is to avoid stop-n-go.
i might’ve decided to trim my reply down to avoid adding too much ‘fluff’ — which could make it hard to read and understand for some folks. i might’ve decided to only type up one paragraph instead of three because i didn’t want to skip over an action or dialogue that your character could’ve / should’ve / would’ve responded to.
i’m not here to write toshi. i’m here to see how he interacts with other people.
so please don’t take a short reply as me not wanting to rp with you. please don’t take offence to toshi skipping over a line of dialogue or two from your muse as me not reading your reply fully ( that’s me trying to avoid backtracking, it’s a domino effect; once it starts, it’s hard to stop ). i just want to keep this a fun, stress free creative space for everyone. ❤
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kiealer · 9 months
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@brawlqueen | liked for a singing starter!
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A calm, quiet afternoon brought about feelings of restlessness -- and the urge to move along with it. This newfound motivation guides her to a serene spot in Yoyagi park, without a soul to speak of anywhere nearby that she could see. With a self assured murmur of "perfect", the young woman claimed her temporary personal position of the park, and began her regimen. A few deep and dynamic stretches later, she felt limber enough to engage the reason she sought this spot in the first place. Music queued on her phone, she placed it in a safe perch, and with enthusiasm, the show started.
❝Odore, odore atsuku naru tame Hito wa umareta hazu sa…❞
The music soon absorbed her completely, reality fading in favor of the melodic harmony that envelopes not only her but anything within the immediate vicinity. Her movements are succinct, precise, and flow beautifully with the music itself, just as she's practiced. Her voice projects clearly and with assured strength, surprisingly remaining unwaveringly stable despite her constant motion.
❝Itsuka hirogaru darou hora ookiku hirogare, Ganbaru chikara kiseki o yonderu, Kono sekai no naka de kagayakitai kokoro ga, Atsumaru toki atarashii koto omoitsuki hashiridasu, Ashimoto ga mienai kedo hane mitai ni tenobashi--❞
One sharp turn, and suddenly a pair of eyes had appeared where she first assumed they wouldn't be. Astonishment widens her own, sheepishness filling her cheeks with telling color. Her body jolts into a stiff, rigid posture, standing straight and raising her hands to wave them dismissively. The only emotion fueling her is embarrassment, clearly written all over her face as she tries to assuage the situation.
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❝Um…! I-I was just… practicing…❞ She swallows her nerves. ❝Sorry, I didn't think anyone else was around. If I'm bothering you, I can stop…❞
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verykaiotic · 2 years
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A reward for intervening;
the night had gone smoother than expected, save for the most embarrassing slip that he could encounter. the truth being that while he and dae had been precariously occupied eye-fucking each other the entire night, his once innocent thoughts of lovingly holding her hand or kissing her forehead had been replaced with salacious thoughts of lust and ambiguity, he did not come to the club with a condom in his pocket. at least, not on purpose. it had started, simply with him thinking she looked beyond beautiful, but as she danced to booming bass and strutted around the venue it was hard to keep his mind from wondering to anything but.
he made his way back inside, thoroughly baked all over again in a vain attempt to forget his moment of embarrassment, deciding it’d be best if he did exactly what he was used to. talk to no one. slender fingers combed through platinum blonde strands as he decided to take up space on the wall, head only nodding to familiar drumline the harpooned its way around the room and drilled into everyone’s ears. he hadn’t realized that he was off in another realm until he was torn back to reality by a quite enticing ruckus. in pure protector mode malachi got to his feet, arguments tended to end differently where he was from and he wouldn’t put it past anyone for something catastrophic to go down. scanning the rows of people for dae’s form until they finally tracked her down...the culprit of what ever chaos was ensuing. 
it was without thinking that he stormed in her direction. fighting? was she serious right now? and who the hell could she be fighting with at a time like-, his thoughts were answered at the view of a familiar petite girl, with her pretty black strands and even prettier black dress. they had to be joking right? kai didn’t give anyone time to explain, only forced his way through the forming crowd, firm grip on dae’s arm before dragging her out of the altercation. he didn’t say anything, at first. only took her far enough so that he didn’t have to say anything in front of the rest of the on lookers.  “are you serious right now? did you forget who you are? or do i need to remind you because for fucks sake dae.” there was quite the bite to his tone, thick lips curling over his words as he looked down at her. but this was hard, as much as he wanted to be angry his eyes kept ghosting down the curves of her body and back up to her lips, the unsolicited thoughts returning. // @dxefillz​
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( Cassie Roosevelt ; closed starter )
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        𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞, 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫. In the small corners of her mind, in her thoughts that run carelessly through her mind, her past called to her. What ifs, wonderments of what once was, and speculation on if she could’ve changed the tide of her future, but she tried to depress those thoughts to the back of her mind. Into the dark, murky shadows and waters, being buried deep within the fabrics of her memory and only recalled when it served her. So far, the thought of the past hadn’t been useful to her. In fact, it only made her tension worse. To ease this tension for her sanity’s sake, she tried to focus on the here and now. The present moment. Not on the next day, the week ahead, or the month after that. She learned how quickly her life could change in a day, in a month, and in a week that arranging in advance and fretting over the what if’s and the dreadful possibilities that await her could be for naught. The life she imagined she was guaranteed slipped through her fingers before she could truly grasp it.
        Then the past called again. Not in her mind, but in the people around her. The gossip hanging on the wind, what she overheard from those that knew her or did not know her. Vocally, she went by a different name, but legally, she still was tied to the Roosevelt name. She hasn’t been gifted with matrimony yet, to change her name for the better. So, when the past whispered into her ear again, the name that was intertwined so deeply in her past and set her for her current circumstance: she willingly pulled herself back to the name Casse Roosevelt. She shined a light on the shadows and on the rogue waves she purposely avoided. The past whispered that of Patriots being spotted near the Roosevelt home and how ironic it was with William Jr’s affiliation. The home still bore the sinful name of her father after its buyer sold it to another. Thus, the name of her father had been in the mouths of others again for what Cassie assumed wouldn’t be the last time.
        The home looked as if it was frozen in time. Her father ensured for the money he paid for its construction that the home would last for a long time, longer than his own lifespan. Once, she foolishly assumed he meant its longevity was meant for her, but what she thought she knew of her father was all a lie. By her own intention, she had been kept in the dark regarding the home. She had no idea what Washington had done with it or the owner before him, but she imagined the paint and wallpaper remained as it was still in fashion. The engravings were still intact on every archway and along the staircase railing. It was a respectable home for a respectable family full of dignity and honor--their own little palace--but looks were always deceiving. 
        As Cassie paid the man on the wagon a few shillings, she stepped forward up to the house. She walked its familiar porch steps, lifting the skirt of her dress to not step on it, but her eyes didn’t need to look down to watch over her steps. Even after being away from it for what felt like years rather than months, the layout of her childhood home with every step was embedded in her mind. She knew it as well as she knew formal dances and she assumed she wouldn’t partake in either now with her falling reputation. As she approached, she was met with the stony faces of the guards. They looked close to her age, but she wasn’t used to the sight of blue being so close to her home.
        As she spoke, she leveled her voice and made sure to soften its intonation. She acted as if she spoke with a royal officer, her cheeks flushed from the outside chill and politeness in her tone. But as she continued, she paused and cut herself off when she saw one of the guards curl their lips into a smirk with a bounce of their brows.
        ❝ My apologies, madam, but we don’t tolerate tories or turncoats. ❞
        ❝ Turncoats? ❞ Cassie questioned, leaving behind that polite and refined tone for a confused, spirited one. He had practically knocked her off kilter with a singular sentence. ❝ I’m not a-- ❞ Was he assuming she was as double-crossing as her father that she was now begging for the aid of the Patriots? For now, confusion blanketed any anger and she stepped back when the man reached for her arm. ❝ I had no part in this war. ❞ Her father certainly did with his perceived loyalty to the Crown, but as if with everything in her life, it seemed as if Cassie was left with little freedom of her own and pigeonholed into a place that made her useful for others. Not by choice.
@honorhearted
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spidermenaced · 1 year
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who: peter parker + gwen stacy where: stark tower
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For the first time in months, he had a free hour--maybe even two. No lab work, no discussion sections, no man in an animal-themed costume he had to chase through Times Square. He could have taken a nap (he could have really used a nap) or he could have called Aunt May (he really needed to call Aunt May) or he could have done his laundry (he really needed to do his laundry) but, of course, he’d left his backpack in Tony’s lab last time he’d been in, and this was probably the only chance Peter would have until April to retrieve it.
He could, at least, call May on the way (Peter Parker, professional multitasker!): Yes I’m feeding myself, yes that includes vegetables, yes school is going fine, no that’s not how PhDs work, no I’m not seeing anyone right now, yes I would tell you if there was someone, yes I’m still coming over for Shabbat. The Tower knew him by face and let him in without a face, which was both incredible and terrifying--Peter chose to ignore the way it tried to call him Mr. Stark, no matter how many times he’d asked to reprogram it--and he stayed on the phone as he breezed in, answering the same barrage of questions he answered every week.
And then the elevator doors slid open, and--no. No way. No fucking way. It must have been a trick of the light, but he blinked, and she was still there. Still solid. “May,” he said. “I’m so sorry. I have to call you back.”
@ghxstspyder​​
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red-hemlock · 5 months
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@onopoeia started following you! (For Onomatopoeia!)
The Bat's renown was becoming an infection. Spreading with no signs of stopping, it seemed a three-way coin-toss to whether or not you were 'spared' or inspired to join Team Good or Team Bad. Team Good had a recent crop of 'hopefuls' looking to shine from the rabble, one of them was scampering ahead of her now. Shit-for-all when it came to the old hand-to-hand, but one slippery street-fish on the evasion-side of things; It'll be glorious once she finally sinks her claws in, and descales those pretty plates back to expose the soft underneath.
But, Hemlock had to admit this one sure knew the city well. Enough to lead her on a mad-dash throughout, and enough to stoke the fires of irritation into an inferno. Time to end this clown-show.
They land behind some old abandoned warehouse, but before the fledgling vigilante can gain ground, pain forces him to eat it, instead. Courtesy of the hooked head of her grappling-gun dug deep into the meat of his calf. The mechanism begins dragging him screaming back towards her; and with no movement wasted, she's on the hero like a starved beast. Knee to the back, hand on neck, and a greedy blade raised skyward for the kill.
But movement is what catches her eye, and stays that blade from falling.
"Woah-oooh, there-!"
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“Back-off, Bulls-Eye! I came, I saw, I conquered this tool first. His head belongs to me!"
Or was this ominous hombre here to help this guy? God, she hoped not. There were shows waiting at home for her to get back to.
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earthssprout · 1 year
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🌼🐌 answered asks ! // unprompted.
@thedarklinglove sent: ❝ hey. do you need some help with that ﹖ ❞ The darkling watched as several Mobians and humans just. Walked past the little kid that was struggling to get something out of a pond. The alien walked over and smiled. Before jumping into the water below and fishing it out. "Here ya go."
WHAT HAS SUNK TO THE BOTTOM OF THE POND, observers around do not know—only Ari, who watched sadly as the water swallowed up her precious, twinkling treasure whole. Now, here's a troubling sort of day … Ari COULD NOT YET SWIM, and there's no telling the depth of the pond—and the obedient child would do nothing to find out herself, anyway. She was far too afraid of all the ' mights '; might the pond be too deep? Might she drown if she tried to fish the Precious Treasure out herself, even if she did so with her very best efforts? Might she get in trouble with the Matron for that? MIGHT A MONSTER BE LURKING IN THE DEPTHS OF THE WATER? If so, might He have gobbled up her Precious Treasure and was now laying in wait for the Little One to come in after it? To Monsters, Treasures must be only appetizers—a snack of sorts—but Little Girls … 
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" nnn … no, thank you— " Little Ari muttered anxiously, tucking her knees up to her chin and hugging them close as she responded to her thought aloud. 
Because of all these unsettling ' mights ' and more, Ari only remained on the edge of the pond, frightened, curious, and wondering if there was any chance that her Precious Treasure might magically resurface on its own. That was the only good ' might ' in mind. 
But before all hope could be lost, A HERO SUDDENLY APPEARED; he was colorful and strange and comforting, which was a lot for a little one to take in all at once. She only turned away from the water when his voice reached her ears, as it was more captivating than the sound of the mixed conversations shared by the thoroughly disinterested passersby. When her innocent gaze—which was robbed of its usual light by the events of the day—met with the stranger, she was instantly awestruck. WHAT COULD BE SAID? After all, he only shared a handful of similarities with those close to her heart—certainly a MO - BEAN, but what kind, Ari did not know. And he didn't allow her nearly enough time to figure it out—nor to answer his question—before he did the unexpected. 
SPLASH! 
And the strange Mo - bean was gone. 
Gasping in surprise, Ari stood up from where she sat, took only two more steps forward, and leaned over to watch the water closer than she had been watching it before. The only thing that could be seen were the dancing ripples on the surface that the strange Mo - bean had just made. Thanks to his actions, there aren't as many ' mights ' left to wonder about; the pond was, in fact, deeper than it seemed, and … 
OH NO! THE MONSTER! What if He had gobbled up the strange Mo - bean?! 
Thankfully, the Hero did not allow enough time for that worrying thought to manifest; it was only a few moments later when he reemerged—with her Precious Treasure in hand! 
The stone sparkled as the Sun hit it just right, filling Ari with the same sort of excitement that she had felt when she first found it earlier today. Though she may be thrilled to know that her Precious Treasure was safe, she was also relieved that the stranger was not, in fact, gobbled up by a Pond Monster.
" mmm … mister found it, mister fou … found it! " 
Now WHAT MUST BE DONE? The Mo - bean must be helped out of the river! Ari looked to and fro, hoping to find a Helpful Branch lying about, but the area was unfortunately without one. But just as this Hero did not give up on her treasure, Ari would not give up on him! She closed the very little space that was left between her and the edge of the pond, now nearly standing on it, and offered out both of her little hands. 
" I … I … I can help mister out, please! I can! " 
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" m — mister can hold my hand, please? " 
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briarpatch-kids · 10 months
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Let's talk mobility aids!
Canes
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Canes are for when you need to take a little bit of weight off of one side of your body, need a little help with balance, or need a little extra stability when you walk. It's an easy mobility aid to find and get, and it's pretty easy to figure out how to use. Have the cane sized so the handle sits at wrist level, then hold it on the opposite side to the one that hurts. Match your cane strikes to the steps on the hurt side. It will hurt your arm, elbow, and shoulder sometimes, but having a properly sized cane will help.
Rollators
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Rollators are kind of the "next step up" in support. They come with more restrictions, you get limited to ramps and stuff, but they're also the least restrictive wheeled mobility aid because they're light and easy to pick up and toss around. They also have a seat a lot of times and a basket so you don't need to carry stuff. They're for when you need a place to rest, something to lean on when you walk, better balance assistance than a cane, and less weight bearing than a cane. I also found that it helped me with fatigue quite a bit. There's two main kinds, euro style like the first, and regular like the second. There are other fancier ones but I'm covering the basics here.
Rollators are my favorite mobility aid and I've used everything from canes to a fancy high grade power chair. They're just the perfect balance of help and freedom. They provide so much support for how far they go.
Crutches
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Arm crutches are pretty neat! They're a lot more ergonomic than a cane. In fact, some people use a single arm crutch as a cane. They distribute the weight a little better, so it's not all on your wrists, and they support you better than a rollator can. The major cons I found are that they take two hands to use so you can't carry much and I had a really hard time trying to learn to walk with them. A lot of people who use forearm crutches have other mobility aids and use the forearm crutches when they want to or need to walk.
Manual Wheelchairs
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These are for when walking becomes more difficult than pushing a wheelchair. There's no weight being put on your legs and feet and depending on your needs, you can get really specific with your adaptations if you have a custom wheelchair verses a standard wheelchair. My first custom chair looked like a monster truck because i took in the woods and gravel, my second custom chair after I got sicker has a head rest, a backrest that holds me up, and a little electric box that I can attach that helps me push. The difference between getting a standard and custom wheelchair is dependent on how much money the user has, what kind of needs they have, and what kind of medical access they have. (One is not more "real" than the other.) I highly recommend getting a cushion for under your butt if you have a standard chair without a cushion, I used a standard full time for 6 months and a cushion made a huge difference.
Mobility scooters
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Mobility scooters are for people who can't walk long distances, but can still walk with the help of a cane or unassisted. If you can walk around your house, but not really much else, a mobility scooter might be the aid for you! There's a lot of different styles and battery life lengths and handling abilities so try a few different scooters out if you can.
Powerchairs
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Powerchairs come in a couple different types or "groups" depending on your needs. Group 1 is the kind of chair you're probably most familiar with. It's basically for someone who needs a powerchair to get around their house, the doctors, office, and grocery store. You can't do any custom seat cushions or anything, but it's for people who don't need it. Think of like... someone who can walk pretty okay still, it just hurts to walk or they're off balance or a little weak feeling. A lot of times more elderly people will use these, if you're more active look into group 2
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Group two chairs are little more durable, a little more stable, sometimes you can switch the captains seats out for custom seating... They're what a full time powerchair user would use if they don't need specialty functions like tilt or recline. They also often have 6 wheels rather than 4 like the group 1 chairs have.
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Group 3 powerchairs are reserved for specific diagnoses like muscular dystrophy, ALS, and other severe neurological and neuromuscular illnesses. These are also called "rehab" chairs because they're for making sure severely disabled people have quality of life. The tilt function is for pressure relief, though you can also get things like elevation so you can raise and lower your chair, and some of them can recline flat. There are other avenues of moving grade 3 power chairs beyond the joystick as well in case someone can't use their hands or doesn't have them. (Head controls, torso controls, and straw controls called sip and puff are alternatives.) They can go on a little worse terrain than group 1 and two chairs and go a little farther, but if they get stuck they weigh 350 lbs and it's awful.
There's a few other types of mobility aid that I don't know enough about, like ankle foot orthotics and gait trainers, but these are the basic "mobility aid" most people will come across.
If you use another type of mobility aid and want to educate people, add it on!!
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xhatake · 1 year
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@avengernomore || cont.
It was surreal, to have Sasuke back. It made Kakashi wonder if he was stuck in limbo, in a false reality. The village was leveled & there was pressure to rebuild. There was something fulfilling about having Sasuke here as the laid a foundation for the future.
There had been little time for reflecting on the events of the attack, but Kakashi had almost thought he sensed a familiar chakra. There had been too much going on at the time to understand. That day was blurry, with large parts of the events missing from his memory. But here, facing his student, he knew what that chakra had been. Sasuke had been here, fighting to protect his village with the rest of his comrades.
There were many things Kakashi had imagined he would say to Sasuke when they met again. If they met again. At first, he had thought he would scold him. To tear into him for looking to an avenue like Orochimaru. After crossing paths with him a handful of years after his departure, it occurred to Kakashi that he might have to kill Sasuke one day. It had made him ill to even consider. Now, it's hard to grasp the mixture of thoughts buzzing in Kakashi's skull. Sasuke was a fine shinobi, a dangerous warrior, but a testament to where Kakashi thought he fell short. Kakashi had failed to dip his hands into the darkness & fish Sasuke out. He had left his student to drown.
" I was trusted with your wellbeing, regardless. " Kakashi is almost offended by the sentiment, but he tries to downplay the reaction by scanning a page of his book. It had been his responsibility to be what Sasuke needed since he was assigned to team seven. To ensure the safety of his students. If he hadn't entered his team in the chunin exams ( before they were ready ) Sasuke may have chosen another path. It was something he lamented over every time Naruto had boasted he would bring Sasuke back. It was a relief that he was back, seemingly with his senses in order. His gaze settles on Sasuke & he speaks again.
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" I won't be the only one with my eye on you." Kakashi breathes in, slowly. It was going to be uncomfortable, Sasuke was going to be under many prying eyes. But that was what happened when you left the village. It was amazing he had returned at all, " This isn't going to be easy, but you know that. "
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kikixreverie · 1 year
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It's called: freefall
Bucky x Female reader
Summary - Things get heated between you and your closest friend Bucky, when you're made to play a married couple on an important mission. Neither of you can help yourselves when you end up stuck in a hotel room together, with sexual tension you could cut with a knife.
Word count - 10k
Warnings - (18+) smut, fingering, p in v, friends to lovers, fake marriage, gross misogynistic man (not Bucko), borderline sexual harassment (not too intense, just gross words, and also not Bucky ofc), fluff, kinda angst, more misogyny.
A/N - Hi, this took me weeks to edit for some reason, sorry, and apologies if it's too long/wordy, i got carried away again. I'm not a big fan of the first half ngl, maybe that's because it's bad, or maybe it's because I've read it about a hundred times. The smut is good though, and that's what really matters.
________________________
"It's just a quick job, I promise. It'll be easy."
Steve gave you a smile of encouragement, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed in front of him, before politely averting his gaze to the floor when you lifted your dress slightly to slide your usual dagger into the holster on your thigh.
"Then what's with the getup?" You asked, lifting your head to catch sight of yourself in the mirror opposite you, looking at the dress you had been made to wear.
It was a pretty dress, beautiful actually, the colour beautiful against your skin-tone, perfectly fitted in all the right places, and it flowed down to the floor, a slit travelling up the length of your left leg, ending at your upper thigh.
You felt confident in it, and it was certainly a boost to your ego when Natasha wolf-whistled at the sight of you and Steve turned an impressive shade of red, but it wasn't something you were used to, having spent the past few years of your life dodging and refusing Tony's party invites, sticking to the comfiest clothes you owned when walking about the compound. It was a beautiful dress, but you couldn't help but feel like an imposter wearing it.
Natasha strode over to you and slightly adjusted the placement of your knife, ensuring it wasn't visible through the dress. "Daniel Kozlov. He's been on Shield's hit list for years now, fucker keeps catching and killing our agents on the inside."
You scoffed amusedly and shook your head, "What, so you send me in to get killed too?"
"Don't underestimate yourself, I've seen you take down four armed men with a screwdriver; you'll be fine, plus, you'll have Bucky and he knows how to stay undetected." Steve reassured you and you smiled at him, nodding to his words.
You heard footsteps behind you only moments before another voice spoke up, and you turned to the door, your breath catching in your throat as you did.
"That I do," Bucky nodded to Steve as he entered the room, eyes focused on his hands, adjusting his cuff links with a furrowed brow, before he finally tilted his gaze up, meeting your wide eyes with his own.
You barely noticed him looking you up and down, as you were too busy doing the exact same thing to him, no doubt probably being incredibly obvious as you stared with your lips parted. He looked like pure fucking sin.
Unadulterated and unfiltered sin.
His suit was all black and his pale, blue eyes contrasted against the colour, somehow making them stand out even more than usual. His already incredibly muscular arms and legs were accentuated, the expensive fabric tight against his skin, without it looking strange and uncomfortable, it only drew your attention to how broad his shoulders were compared to his narrow waist, or how thick his thighs looked in the black dress pants.
Multiple silver rings graced his fingers, matching with the silver, designer watch on his left wrist and you did a double-take when you noticed that his watch was wrapped around skin, not vibranium.
"Your arm." You said, sounding more like a statement than a question and Bucky forced himself to tear his gaze from your exposed thigh and tried to hide his pink dusted cheeks and breathless intake of air as his eyes followed yours to his metal arm, now concealed by what looked to be skin.
"Yeah." His voice came out as a sigh. He didn't know why, most amputees like him he was sure would be over the moon with the impressive technology, but it just made him uncomfortable, seeing his arm how he did 70 years ago. I felt inherently wrong. "Tony."
You nodded, looking away from his hand. A part of you was annoyed Tony had given it to him, knowing that it took Bucky years to accept that part of himself, and this seemed like it would be a setback in that department, though you still understood why it was necessary, Bucky was the best for the job, and chances are a criminal as 'highbrow' as Kozlov, would recognise the arm.
You wanted to change the subject, and you could tell Bucky did too, so you huffed a laugh and met his eyes, jokingly poking his chest with your finger, "You look like a mobster."
He nodded and chuckled, "Thanks, I guess. You look like a mobster's wife."
"Wife huh? Is that what we're doing?" You ask, turning your head to look down at Nat questioningly as she finished with your dress.
"Did they not tell you?" Bucky asked and you shook your head.
"I missed the briefing but Steve here thought he'd sign me up anyway." You gave the blonde a jokey, reprimanding look and he sighed, picking up two folders from the table and handing them to you.
"Blue one is about Kozlov, and the black is about who you and Bucky are going to be playing."
You take the folders from Steve, handing the blue one to Natasha as you open the black one, "James and Lucille Walter. Hey, how come he gets to keep his name and I get Lucille?"
"That's just a coincidence and I'm sure Bucky isn't too happy about it either. You're pretending to be a real couple, James Walter is one of Kozlov's newest buyers, he doesn't know him very well though, that's why you two shouldn't be caught out by anyone."
Nodding to Steve's words, you quickly skim over the rest of the folder, memorising as much as you can, before swapping with Nat and reading the other one, "And where are the real James and Lucille Walter?"
"Dead."
You stop your reading and turn to Natasha at the sound of her voice, giving her a look when she tried to hide her smirk.
"Ah, yes. Courtesy of Natasha Romanoff herself, Mr and Mrs Walter are in fact, dead" Steve spoke dramatically, causing you to scoff and wink at the redhead beside you.
"We should leave now. I'll explain further in the car and give you a rundown of the plan. Should be an easy job." Bucky takes the folders from you and tucks them under his arm, signalling for you to walk out the door and you give Steve and Natasha a smirk before you leave.
"Wish me luck guys."
_______________________________________
You were picked up from the compound by one of Stark's trusted drivers and Bucky described the plan in detail to you on the way there, but as you arrived closer and closer to your destination, you felt the nerves come on.
Usually, you were behind a computer screen on missions, hacking security cameras and breaking into encrypted files, you had no doubt of your fighting skills, you've been training almost your whole life, and the few missions you've done where you've had to fight were smooth sailing, but you had never done undercover before.
You started nibbling on your lower lip as soon as the car pulled up, doubting yourself again despite the amount of times Natasha has given you a whole speech about why you had no reason to ever do that.
The door on Bucky's side opened and when he offered you his arm to help you out of the car, meeting your eyes and giving you a gentle smile, you felt the nerves calm slightly.
You and Bucky were close in a way that no one had expected, considering he had the tendency to keep himself away from people and stay quiet when he was forced to socialise. You were slow-paced and gentle with him, a huge contrast to the way Sam would constantly be on Bucky about his lack of social skills, or Tony dragging him to parties he had no interest in. Sam always has the best intentions, but sometimes can be a little too enthusiastic for Bucky, and Tony, well sometimes Tony's just a dick with full knowledge of the fact that he's being one, and not a single care in the world about it.
You and Bucky both had an understanding, you had confided in him about your fears, your anxiety, and he had managed to do the same.
You just couldn't help but develop a teeny tiny crush on him over the past few months.
"Don't work yourself up, stay in character, stay alert, and remember the plan."
Nodding to him, you took a deep breath and put yourself into character, reminding yourself of yours and Bucky's new names, keeping your head up as you entered the party, an expensive diamond wrapped around your left ring finger with a similar pattern to the silver band Bucky had on his.
The hall was beautiful, gold detailing adorned the large doors and walls, reaching up to the ceiling to create beautiful patterns against the pristine white of the building. The party-goers were even more beautiful, hundreds of gowns and suits worth more than your life, probably bought and worn for a single night, before they're discarded and forgotten in the back of their walk-in closets.
You felt like you didn't fit in at all, but you watched as party guests eyed the two of you, and they seemed to be approving.
It didn't take you and Bucky long to get situated, stood in the corner of the extravagant hall with a glass of champagne now in your hand as you surveyed the exits and bodyguards, and Bucky looked for the target.
The mission was just a small lead in a huge investigation. You and Bucky were just here to buy something from Kozlov and then get out.
"Got him, 4 o-clock. He's surrounded but he should be expecting us so it shouldn't be an issue." Bucky had leant down to whisper in your ear, his breath tickling against your neck and causing a shiver to rake over your shoulders.
Fuck, he smelled like sin too.
It made you want to take a deeper breath, made you want to pull him even closer, close enough to close that small gap between your lips and kiss him till you run out of breath, and as much as that would be inconspicuous and normal for James and Lucille Walter, it would be completely inappropriate for Bucky and Y/n.
"We shouldn't go over yet. Let's just mingle a bit, get more of a feel of this place and blend into the background as much as we can." You add, and Bucky nods, surveying the room again before meeting your eyes.
"Good idea, but when we do go over, don't make eye contact with him and don't say anything," said Bucky. You couldn't help but roll your eyes, giving him a slightly annoyed, but understanding smile, and he smiled back apologetically, "I know, it's stupid, but that's what these guys are like. If he so much as thinks that you're either, on the table or threatening his masculinity, we're in trouble. Okay?"
You understood what Bucky was saying, men like Kozlov, they see women as property, or in some cases, currency. It's best to stay off their radar as best you can, which includes not threatening his masculinity by daring to look him in the eyes.
Women were to keep their heads down.
Which was bullshit.
"Okay."
He gives you a final nod and you think he's finally about to pull away and have mercy on your heart, but before he does, he pauses and presses his soft, warm lips to your cheek in a gentle kiss.
Air gets caught in your throat as it happens, but you try not to make an audible noise, quickly pulling yourself together and reminding yourself that you and Bucky are pretending to be a couple and he's just trying to sell it better. It makes sense.
It's just pretend.
You spend the whole evening with your hand wrapped around Bucky's bicep, neither of you breaking apart for anything as random people come up to you and try to start conversations. Usually, one of you will take one for the team and has to stand there talking about money and beach houses for five minutes, plus the occasional question about kids, which seemed to make Bucky blush every time, as the other keeps an eye on Kozlov.
"So how long have you two been married?" A seemingly kind lady asks, her red dress matching her lips as they stretch into an awkward smile.
"A year in June," You respond, well-rehearsed at this point as you smile up at your pretend husband, "Can't believe how quickly it's going."
Bucky is quick thinking with the act, and he smiles down at you, his arm wrapping gently around your waist and squeezing you to his side. Your heart probably stopped beating for a moment, and you wondered how he got so good at this, before brushing the thought away and looking back to the woman in the red dress, smiling warmly at her too.
"Ah, bet you two are still in the honeymoon phase. You look completely smitten with each other, it's adorable." She scrunched her nose up on the word 'adorable', her gaze flicking between the two of you before she glanced at her own husband, standing a few feet away as he laughed with a larger group of men, a big glass of whiskey in his hand. She sighed.
You tried to keep your face neutral, smiling and nodding along, but something about what she had said had caught in your chest, and you wished you could see just for a moment from someone else's eyes, just how 'smitten' you both look.
You felt bad for the woman, who stood in the middle of the huge ballroom completely alone and abandoned by her husband, but there wasn't anything you could do for her, and Bucky was subtly hinting to you that you were to go speak with Kozlov soon, so you kissed her cheek and bid her goodbye.
You spared Bucky a quick glance and he was focused on Kozlov, his face stoic as he glanced in his direction discreetly, scanning the exits too, checking for close-by security cameras and windows again, just in case.
"I think it's time, doll." He murmured.
You quickly lift your head to meet his eyes, the pet-name he usually only used when you were tipsy and would brush it off casually, slipping off his tongue, though it had the same effect sober or not, you blushed and nodded.
He smiled at you, almost looking fond, though you were pretty sure he was just offering you a break from the stoic, mission orientated Bucky, before he took a deep breath and reached for your hand on his bicep to hold it with his own, gently squeezing before guiding you towards the target.
As you walked Kozlov's way, who was surrounded by burly, most definitely armed bodyguards, you noticed the women surrounding him too, some with their husbands and all of them looking beyond uncomfortable, staring out at the party with bored, or even nervous expressions.
"James Walter," Bucky nodded to one of the bodyguards, who had stopped you both from passing, and the bodyguard shared a look with another, before nodding and letting you walk on.
Daniel Kozlov was sat comfortably in a velvet armchair as he swirled a glass of whiskey in his hand, seemingly stuck in a boring conversation as he stared at the wall before him, completely uninterested in what the man talking to him had to say.
"Mr Kozlov, I'm James Walter, It's a pleasure to finally meet you in person."
Kozlov perked up at the sound of a new voice and a wide, Cheshire cat grin formed on his lips as he regarded you and Bucky, though you kept your eyes to the floor, or seemingly 'admiring' the expensive decorations as the men spoke.
"Ah, my new friend! I was hoping you'd show up, had a few men flake out on me recently," The man spoke dramatically, his thick European accent prevalent and images of his file flashed in your head, remembering that Shield had been taking down his buyers one by one, either arresting them on other charges or putting a bullet between their eyes as Natasha had done with the real Mr and Mrs Walter.
They weren't particularly very nice people, so you didn't hold much guilt for their deaths, or stealing their identity after the fact.
"Wouldn't miss it for the world, sir. Heard you've got something I have my interests set on." Bucky's voice was smooth and charismatic, matching Kozlov's energy as best he could, and you couldn't lie, it made your blood run warmer, heat spreading to certain parts of your body you were ashamed to admit were reacting to the confidence he exuded tonight.
"Hm... I suppose I do. Do you always allow your wife to be a part of your deals?" Your looked up slightly at his mention of you, and Kozlov smirked wickedly at the expression on your face, "Women can be god-awful gossips sometimes."
This fucking guy-
Bucky squeezed your hand tightly, forcing the words from his tongue, "I assure you, sir. She is nothing to worry about."
He was just as pissed as you were.
"I don't know, she doesn't really seem like the quiet type, I reckon she's a loud-mouth once she's on her back, although I'm sure having her on her knees will shut her up nice and quiet." He chuckled darkly and Bucky's hand was holding yours so tight, his jaw clenching and unclenching, measured breaths exhaled through his nose, he still managed to keep his face blank though, as did you, quietly seething as you put on the frightened baby deer look that men seemed to love, staring down at the floor.
He needed to think you were in the same position as the other poor, frightened women here, that he'd get bored with you all the same.
You swallowed your tongue though, wanting nothing more than to speak up and put the bastard in his place, right before beating the absolute shit out of him, though you knew that would come in due time, for now all you could do was finish this fucking mission.
"She won't be a problem."
Kozlov laughed, knowing he was getting under James' skin. He stood from the armchair and nodded towards Bucky, the smile sinking, trying to look intimidating, despite the fact that he was practically less than half the size of Bucky, "Make your payment."
Bucky pulled a phone from his pocket, sending a single word in a text and waiting for the confirmation only seconds later, before tucking it away again, "Payment made."
Daniel looked over at a man sat in the corner with a laptop and when he nodded, he turned back to look at Bucky, his hand sneaking into his own pocket and pulling out a hard drive, handing it to Bucky before taking a step back and looking you up and down.
"What's your name, sweetheart?"
You swallowed your irritation, narrowly avoiding the urge to roll your eyes at the way he was eyeing you like a piece of meat, Bucky opened his mouth to speak but was quickly cut off by a glare.
"I asked the wife, not you. Name?" He spoke through gritted teeth, obviously quick to anger, and you fought back the urge to fucking bitch slap him, take the dagger from your thigh and press it to his neck, but you were sticking to the deer in headlights act.
"Lucille."
A smirk overtook his face, a healed scar on his cheek stretching as he did so, "Pretty name for a pretty thing."
At this point, Bucky was squeezing your hand so hard again, your fingers were starting to go numb, the rings he was wearing digging uncomfortably into your skin, but you didn't pull away, instead, you returned the tight grip to try to reassure him.
Taking a step closer to you, Daniel Kozlov lifted his hand to your cheek, making you flinch slightly and you clenched your jaw when the back of his hand caressed your cheek, his skin ice-cold against yours.
"I happen to collect pretty things."
Bucky felt sick to his stomach, knowing that he couldn't do anything besides stand there and watch, stepping out of line in any way would end in a fight, and he knew he couldn't risk lives, or the mission.
A part of you was expecting him to backhand you, but he never did Instead, he touched your cheek for a while longer, glancing over at Bucky with a smile before he took a step away from you and laughed at the murderous look Bucky was trying to hide, he knew that Bucky was in a position where there wasn't much he could do to stop him, and he openly mocked him for it, "I could take her off your hands for the night for you, teach her some manners. Maybe she'll learn to answer her superiors quickly, when they ask her a question."
"Not necessary." Bucky's voice was scarily even, but his jaw was aching from how hard he was grinding his teeth together and he started pulling you closer to him, shooting Kozlov a dangerous glare, "I think it's time we leave."
"Of course, of course. No doubt you need to get her to bed."
Bucky ignored his words and turned, pushing his way past the bodyguards and pulling you along by your hand, making you stumble in your heels.
"James." You called out as you tried to catch up with him. His grip on your hand was starting to hurt again but he kept walking with intent, pulling you out of the grand doors at the entrance to the hall and towards the expensive car you had arrived in.
He handed the driver a wad of cash and told him to leave, giving him a silent glare which obviously meant 'fuck off' when the guy hesitated.
As Bucky pulled open the passenger seat door and helped you into the car, you glared at him, though when he ducked his head into the car and leant over you to put your seatbelt on for you, the intensity behind the glare faded and you were left just staring wide eyed at him, and instead of yelling at him and telling him that you were perfectly capable of doing your own seatbelt, you were lost for words with how close his body was to yours, his breath fanning against your bare shoulder.
You could only breathe when he pulled away and slammed the door shut, rounding the car to get into the driver's seat, not sparing you another glance as he turned on the engine and put the car into gear, speeding off into the city.
his frustration and anger filled the space with tension.
"Bucky, you need to calm down," You tried but he continued to ignore you, one hand on the gear stick and the other gripping the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles turned white. You sighed, his frustration and anger filled the space with tension, and you concluded that he was a grown man who could calm himself down.
You dropped your head against the seat as you focused on the view outside your window, the lights of the city burning bright against the night sky.
You glanced at the side-view mirror, and rolled your eyes when you realised it was the same car that was behind you when you left the party, "We're being followed."
Bucky's hearing was obviously working. When he heard what you said, his eyes lifted to the rear-view mirror and he sighed heavily, "Fuck."
"Where are we gonna go? None of the safehouses are fancy enough for Mr and Mrs Walter."
"We'll have to go to a hotel, they shouldn't give us any trouble unless we seem suspicious. There's no way Kozlov would have us killed immediately after a sale, too risky," You nod at his words, knowing that Bucky was an expert at things like this due to his past with Hydra, he knew how men like Kozlov worked, how their brains ticked, and you trusted him completely. "Okay, I know where to go." He said as you kept an eye on the car, taking note of the plate number and trying to get a view of the person driving it, "Text Nat with the burner in my pocket, tell her we'll be at The Pierre, tell her to bring backup just in case but keep them minimally armed, it's just a precaution."
You sigh again, looking away from the car behind you and back to Bucky, "Which pocket?"
"Inside pocket, left side."
You nibbled on your lower lip as you reached over to him, and he tilted his body to you slightly in assistance. Bucky gulped, and you blushed as your hands brushed against his shirt when you reached into his suit jacket, searching for the pocket.
His body was incredibly warm and it only made you want to draw out the situation even longer as Bucky fought to keep his concentration on the road and the car behind, but eventually, your fingers brushed against the phone and you hesitantly pulled it out and sat back in your seat, a long exhale coming from him as you did so and he readjusted his grip on the steering wheel, shooting you a quick glance, his gaze falling to how exposed your thigh had become with the movement, though he tore his eyes away quickly.
You slipped the phone back into Bucky's pocket once you had received Natasha's quick response, and Bucky pulled up to the hotel. You watched in quiet amusement as the man following parked not-so-discreetly, a bit further down the street.
"Remember who your playing." Bucky shot you a final glance as he turned off the ignition and got out of the car, straightening out his suit jacket as he walked to the passenger side and pulled open the door, offering his arm to you and helping you out of the car.
You hated how real it all felt, him doting on you when you were trying desperately hard to convince yourself it was an act, but you still wrapped both your hands around his arm, draping yourself against his side as you walked towards the entrance, telling yourself that you did it only for the upkeep of the ruse.
The tension between you was undeniable as Bucky looked down at you, his expression serious, but not stern, only intense.
"James? Are we going in?" You asked, using his fake yet real name and it seemed to wake him from his daze, nodding as he reminded himself of his surroundings and the man now wandering closer to them, his phone to his ear, though he didn't speak into it.
"Course, doll. Just admiring my wife's beauty in the city lights."
Your mouth fell open slightly at his words but he didn't give you much time to react before he was walking you into the hotel, and you were thankful that he wasn't dragging you this time.
Bucky didn't waste any time, quickly moving to one of the people running the front desk and glaring down at him.
"Name?"
"James Walter," He spoke and the man nodded, typing something out on his computer before handing Bucky a black key-card, giving him a fearful smile.
Stepping away from the front desk, Bucky moved to your left as he discreetly put his hand into his pocket and slipped the burner phone into your hand, and you switched the phone into your right hand once you realised his plan, tossing the phone into the garbage bag on the back of a janitors cart before walking into the elevator.
You sighed heavily as you both finally entered the hotel room, trudging to the bed in the middle of the giant room and collapsing on it as Bucky started scoping out the room, quickly checking the bathroom and shutting all the curtains.
"We're going to have to stay here all night, aren't we? That guy isn't gonna go anywhere." You sighed, closing your eyes as you sunk into the mattress.
"One bed." Bucky said, and you peaked your eyes open one at a time, moving your gaze to the man now slouched in the armchair tucked into the corner of the large room, still looking beyond annoyed.
"Huh?"
His jaw ticked in annoyance as his head fell back against the chair, "There's only one bed."
Oh.
"Oh," You sat up on the bed, looking around the room awkwardly.
You didn't really want to think about what that could mean, it either formed butterflies in your stomach, or disappointment.
He didn't have to act so upset about it.
"Is it that bad?" You scoffed, half joking, half serious, and Bucky lifted his head, his eyes widening, lips parted.
"No, that's not what I-" He cut himself off, sighing and furrowing his eyebrows, looking guilty, "Sorry. I'm just so fucking annoyed."
You smiled and nodded, "I know, me too. We're one step closer to getting this guy though, Buck."
He nodded too, eyes closing again, his jaw unclenching, finding some kind of relief in your words.
"We don't have to share if you don't want, but I'm okay with it if you are. I trust you. Plus, we've fallen asleep on the couch together before, can't be that much different." You shrugged, acting nonchalant, although you felt extremely not, as you stood up, sick of the feeling of your knife's handle digging uncomfortably in your skin.
You pulled your skirt up to expose your other thigh, lifting your right foot to rest on the bed, while making sure not to flash Bucky in the process as you pull the dagger out, throwing it back on the bed, leaving the garter on for now.
His breath caught in his throat at the sight, watching as your dagger glided against the skin of your thigh as you removed it from yourself, tossing it onto the white bed sheets before dropping your foot back to the floor.
"No it's... I don't- uh." He trailed off, losing his train of thought, obviously distracted.
You looked at him, eyes dropping to follow the movement of his tongue wetting his lips, and you knew you'd never get the sight of him right now out of your mind. His legs were spread, sitting comfortably in the chair, one of his arms draped over the arm of the chair, while he rested his elbow with the other one, holding his head up with his thumb and index finger on the side of his tilted head.
He regarded you silently, his eyes dazed, and you wondered if it could possibly be because he was feeling the same exact way as you right now.
Bucky was struggling to think straight, scrunching his face up in frustration when he finally snapped out of his daze, the frustration completely different to what he was feeling before, now he just couldn't get the image of your thighs out of his mind, or the black thigh garter you still wore under your dress.
God, you drive him fucking crazy.
You chewed the inside of your cheek when he sighed again, "Buck, you need to chill out. I know Kozlov is a fucking asshole, but we expected that. We got the mission done with no big issues."
He stared up at the ceiling, feeling so guilty that he was looking at you that way, thinking about you in that way, especially after the reminder of Kozlov and how undoubtedly uncomfortable he must've made you feel.
"I know, I just hate feeling powerless. That prick was touching you and saying horrible shit and I just stood there-"
"Bucky."
He huffed a breath and opened his eyes, only to be met with the beautiful sight of you stood before him, only a few feet away, your dress clinging to all the right places and your eyes locked to his and he felt a familiar heat stirring up inside him again. He stared up at you as if you were a heaven-sent angel.
The tension in the room was so thick, and you both knew why, though neither of you had the guts to admit, nor say anything about it.
Your intentions were pure at first, and for some reason, on the way towards where he was sitting, you never thought about the very un-pure version of your actions until you were stood in front of him, barely thinking about it when you sunk to your knees before him, your hands resting just above his knees on his spread legs.
At first, you told yourself it was because you wanted to talk to him properly, make sure he was okay, and that included you being on his level physically, but now you realised it was mostly because you so desperately wanted to see him like this, his gaze heated, looking down at you between his thighs with parted lips.
It didn't matter that you were the one on your knees, you'd never felt more powerful.
His gaze was unwavering, the intense, lustful look in his eyes alone had you clenching your thighs together as you thought about your next move, and Bucky lifted one of his hands towards your face, brushing the back of his fingers down your cheek, just as Kozlov had done earlier, though this touch was completely different, and your eyes fluttered shut, a sigh escaping you as his fingers caressed your cheek, ridding the memory of Kozlov's cold skin against yours with his soft, warm touch, and you pulled your eyes open to meet his again, lifting your hand to take hold of his.
You looked down at the rings he was wearing, one on almost each finger, apparently it was a common style choice from James Walter, and it wasn't the first time tonight that you'd silently thanked the dead mobster for that fact.
They'd been catching your eye all night, and you lifted his knuckles to your lips, placing a kiss against the smooth metal of the first one on his index finger, and then the next one, and the next.
Bucky watched you kiss his rings, his eyes darkening with every touch of your soft lips to his knuckles, so entranced by you, slowly sinking further into the seat, melting with each touch.
He couldn't think of any repercussions right now, couldn't think of a single reason to stop you, all he could think about was what you were doing to him right now, and where these actions could lead you, and his pants were getting tighter by the second.
You met his eyes with your lips still on his knuckles, and you both immediately knew what this was, where this could be going, and that the thick tension between you, was sexual tension like no other.
Bucky's heart must've stopped when you opened his fist and slipped his index and middle finger past your lips, enveloping them in the hot, wetness of your mouth, your soft tongue circling over his digits, sucking on them, He couldn't help but groan, leaning his head back, though still keeping his half-lidded eyes on you.
"Fuck, doll. So fuckin' gorgeous."
You weren't thinking straight, you must not've been, because why the hell would you be doing this, why was it something you didn't even have to question, why did it feel so natural, and so fucking right.
The words that slipped past his lips were doing things to you, and the way that his fingers pressed down on your tongue slightly, but weren't nearly as heavy against it as something else you wanted on your tongue would be, you were a goner, and your underwear was already soaked.
You pulled his fingers from your mouth but kept hold of them as you crawled onto his lap, his arm immediately wrapped around your waist, holding you to him, his lips so close to yours you were sharing breath.
Slowly, you guided his fingers down, sliding them under the slit in your dress to bring them to your covered core, watching his facial expression intently, watching for any sign of discomfort.
There was none, and his breath caught in his throat when his fingers made contact, the heat of you radiating against his hand, he could already feel how wet you are.
"Fuck." He breathed, eyebrows furrowing, forehead resting on yours, "You sure about this sweetheart? You want me to touch you?"
You nodded immediately, biting your lower lip, pressing his hand against you harder, "Yes. Are you sure?"
He nodded back, "Never been more sure about anything in my fuckin' life."
You moaned when he finally started moving his fingers, circling your clit gently over your underwear, though with enough pressure to give some sort of relief, but it was when he pulled your panties aside, and dipped his fingers into your wetness, spreading your folds and gathering your slick, before pressing his fingers against your clit and rubbing you in tighter circles, that you were a mess in his lap.
"Bucky-" You whimpered, rolling your hips slightly, and he licked his lips again, nudging his nose against yours, wanting so desperately to kiss you, but also not wanting to miss a single expression you made, he wanted to watch you fall apart under his touch, again, and again, and again.
"You know something, sweetheart?" He asked, waiting for confirmation that you were paying attention to him before continuing.
You rolled your hips again, staring into his eyes, moaning out in pleasure, "What?"
"You drove me fucking crazy tonight, every time you touched me, every time you looked at me- God, whenever you said my name- I'd never heard you call me that before, my first name, fuck I don't ever want to stop hearin' you callin' me that."
His words made you dizzy, the confirmation that he'd felt the same as you all night, the confession that he loved it when you called him 'James' just as much as you loved calling him it, you were sinking deeper and deeper into this feeling, that this moment couldn't be more right, more necessary, like you'd both been needing this for months now.
By the time he had finished talking, he had slowed his touch to a complete stop, and dipped his fingers lower, pushing them inside you.
You gasped, he groaned, and when he curled them, finding that sweet spot inside you and pushing against it perfectly, you cried out, dropping your forehead to his shoulder and tucking your face in his neck.
He didn't let up with his gentle thrusting, and the insistent rubbing against that spongy spot inside of your cunt. He used his free hand to move your head from his shoulder, leaning himself forward slightly, holding you closer, and finally kissing you.
You whimpered and moaned against his lips, though returned the kiss passionately, both of your hands in his hair, your tongue gliding against his own.
This was unlike any experience you'd ever had, every touch dialled up to 100.
He used his thumb to rub your clit, still curling and rubbing his fingers against your walls, and when you started to clench down on him, he pulled back from the kiss.
"C'mon, kitten, cum on my fingers like a good girl." He purred, and your head tilted back, moaning as you came, your orgasm only spurred on quicker by his words.
"James-" You whimpered, his touch not letting up as he pleasured you through your orgasm, though when you were through most of it, you crashed your lips to his.
You kissed until you ran out of breath, doing exactly what you had wanted to do earlier, what you had wanted to do for months. Bucky gently eased his fingers out of you, and when you tucked your face in his neck again, catching your breath, you could tell he was sucking them clean, moaning at the taste of you.
It was quiet for a moment between you, only the gentle sound of your slightly laboured breath filling the space, Bucky held you close to him, his fingers gently tracing up and down your spine through the fabric of your dress, you gave a pleased hum and kissed his neck, just above his collar.
It didn't matter that you'd just barely come down from an orgasm, you needed more, you needed him.
"James." You whispered against his neck, just below his ear and he just about melted into the chair beneath you, humming to let you know he was listening, though you didn't say anything else, a part of you just wanted to say his name again, and to feel his pleased reaction to it.
His body was so warm under yours, but there were far too many layers of fabric between you and him and you desperately wanted to fix that, 'adjusting' yourself on his lap just so you could provide some friction between you, biting your lip and sighing into his ear when you felt how hard he was beneath you, he groaned and gripped your hips tightly.
"I wanna feel you inside me, James." Your voice was as sweet as sugar, breath warm against his skin, and your heated core was seated just above where his hard cock was pressing tightly against his pants, throbbing with every small movement you made.
"Fuck, sweetheart." He husked, no doubt sounding like a broken record, though he didn't care much about that, not when you were pressing yourself against him like that, slowly rocking in his lap, not when he could still faintly taste you in his mouth from where he had sucked his fingers clean, not with your mouth on his neck, whispering dirty things.
You kissed the hinge of his jaw, then ghosted your lips lower, pressing a kiss just below his ear, before making your way to the other side, leaving sweet kisses as you went.
You met his eye as you traced your hand up his black shirt, watching his expression as you slowly loosened his tie, and popped the top button open, and then the next, giving yourself better access to the skin there, kissing below his Adam's apple.
"C'mon, Buck. You wanna fuck me?" You asked, looking up at him through your lashes this time, teasing him with a smirk.
He bit his lip, holding your cheek in his palm, thumb swiping across your cheekbone, his eyes darting across your face, taking in every detail he could while he was so close to you.
So pretty.
"I do, of course I do, doll." He said back, his eyes following the movement of his thumb against soft skin. You could sense the 'but' coming, "But... I don't think we should-"
"Bucky." You interrupted, stopping what you know would've become this huge, self-doubting, self-sabotaging speech, and he met your eyes again, sighing slightly, his head tilted, "If we both want this, then why can't we have it?"
He didn't know what to say, he couldn't imagine a world were someone would really want him, as he was, much less a smart, loving and kind, beautiful girl like yourself. He believed you when you said you wanted this, but was still unsure if you would really want him, want him beyond this moment.
"If we go further, I'll never be able to get enough of you." He spoke quietly, this moment between you was so intimate, which was something he'd not experienced in decades. It was terrifying, but so perfect, so right. 
"You have all of me, Bucky. I want you, not just tonight. I've wanted you for months, honey, and if you want me too then what have we got to lose? You can have me whenever you need me, whenever you want me, I'm yours, yours now, yours tomorrow. If you need a hug," You wrapped your arms around his neck as you spoke and held him tighter, "If you need a kiss," You pressed your lips to his, "If you need a release; I'll be there, because you have me, always have."
By the time you were just halfway into your speech, Bucky was a puddle, his brain short-circuiting, his heart beating much faster than it should be with him just sitting, and his whole world view collapsing.
You were his.
You wanted to be his.
He was yours completely.
He surged forward to press his lips to yours, and kissed you for a long moment, using his tongue to memorise the feel of your mouth, the heat of your own tongue against his, and he stood as he kissed you, holding you in his arms as you wrapped your legs around his waist.
He carried you with such ease and sat down on the edge of the huge bed, not once breaking the kiss, or putting an ounce space between your bodies.
You helped him to shrug off his suit jacket, tossing it to the floor as if it didn't probably cost hundreds of dollars, and deft fingers quickly reached to undo his tie.
The tie was silky and smooth, and your imagination was bright with ideas, the image of Bucky fucking you, with your hands tied above your head, or maybe tying Bucky up just the same, kissing his cock teasingly, without letting him touch you.
You tabled the ideas for now, tossing the tie aside.
You could experiment with him in due time, for now you just wanted to be able to touch him as much as possible.
You were both still enraptured in the kiss when Bucky stood again, this time turning around, and laying you down on the mattress, pressing himself against you as he placed one last kiss on your lips, and pulled back to admire the sight of you, blushing with kiss-bitten lips as you lay beneath him.
He traced his hands down your body and stood at the end of the bed, his shirt almost halfway undone.
His fingers glided down your legs, and ended at your ankles as he eyed the strappy heals you wore, admiring how beautiful you looked in them. He imagined keeping them on you, stripping you down and bending you over the closest surface, whilst still wearing the heels, maybe keeping on the thigh-garter too, but he wanted you comfortable, and he wanted you naked.
Gently, he undid the strap on one of your heels, and slowly pulled it off, before doing the same to the other one.
He kept glancing up at you as he did so, watching you so intently, he didn't dare miss a single moment, a single change in your expression.
His hands traced back up your legs, this time, he kissed his way up too, kissing you ankle, your shin, just below the garter.
He stopped himself though, and looked you in the eyes, that serious look returning, "Are you sure you want this?"
"Yes. Please, James."
He smirked, he couldn't not, and his hand drifted to your hip, squeezing there, before using both his hands to flip you over, leaning over you and pressing his hand against your back.
You gasped in surprise, and then felt his fingers against the zip of the dress, his breath against the nape of your neck.
"Should we take this off?" He asked sweetly, and you nodded silently, your voice trapped in your throat, that cocky, dominant persona you had taken on earlier apparently about to be fucked out of you. You couldn't wait.
He flipped you back over to help ease the dress off, leaving you only in a lacy pair of underwear, your chest exposed to him, and once the dress was on the floor, and Bucky allowed himself the chance to finally look at you, he groaned roughly, draping his body over yours and reaching up to caress your breasts, watching as his thumb traced over the hardened peaks of your nipples, "So fucking gorgeous."
Your hands were in his hair, back arching into his touch when he took your nipple into his mouth, paying attention to the other one with his fingers, and as much as you were enjoying it, he was still wearing way too much, and you put your fingers under his chin, pulling his mouth away from you.
He kissed you as you unbuttoned the rest of his shirt and pulled it off, quickly followed by his pants and soon you were both left in your underwear.
You pushed at his shoulder, and he eventually got the memo, and rolled aside, letting you sit on top of him, carefully moving the dagger you had left on the bed onto the bedside table.
When you pulled back from the kiss, he continued to kiss down your chest, but your eyes drifted to the hand he had on your waist, the left one, that still looked like skin even though it wasn't.
You had almost completely forgotten about it, it felt just like skin, was warm like skin, and looked unbelievably life-like, but there was something about it that you really didn't like, it wasn't him, it might've been once, but as Bucky has told you before, he's not been the man he was back in the 40s in over seventy years, and he probably wouldn't ever be him again, which you reminded him was okay, that he didn't owe Steve the version of himself that Bucky thought he would need.
You knew about the struggles Bucky has had with his metal arm, the history that there is behind it, and the hatred he had for it when he was first rehabilitated. You didn't want this impressive Stark invention to become something he used to hide this part of himself, against the needs of his own healing.
You started at his left shoulder, and traced your fingers down the arm, stopping at the silver watch on his wrist, and Bucky stopped kissing you, watching you, waiting.
"Is it the watch?" You asked, and he hesitated, before nodding.
"You don't have to take it off."
You paused, looking down at him, he looked slightly uncomfortable, and you needed to change that.
"I'd like to take it off. Do you want to leave it on?"
He was quiet for a moment, thinking about your question. It made him uncomfortable, seeing the uncanny, flesh arm in place of the metal one he knew was there, and to see a human arm, yet not be able to really feel the touch of your skin against it, only pressure and heat. He didn't like it.
He shook his head, and you smiled, kissing him again as you carefully undid the watch with your mouth still on his, pulling back to see his metal arm visible again, and you intertwined your fingers with his, metal against skin.
You did the same with his other hand, intertwining your fingers, before lifting them both above his head, pressing them into the mattress. You knew he could very easily break out of your grasp, but that didn't make the sight any less pleasing.
You rocked your hips against his, just as you did before, and he groaned, lifting his own hips, seeking more friction.
Reluctantly, you released his hands, and quickly took off your underwear, leaving you naked above him, before you took his off too.
You couldn't possibly be any wetter, your inner thighs a mess of slick as you watched his cock slap against his stomach, painfully hard and leaking at the tip.
"Fuck, James. D'you know how beautiful you are?" You asked, slowly touching the underside of his cock, tracing an enticing vein, before gripping him in your hand and squeezing him.
A moan slipped past his lips, hips lifting from the bed again.
He shook his head in response to you, smiling, "Do you know how beautiful you are?"
He flipped you both over again, his hands tracing your body, lingering in certain areas, squeezing your breasts, caressing your stomach, lifting your thigh to rest on his hip, dipping between your legs to press down on your clit, "You're fuckin' breathtaking, doll, and so fucking wet."
He gathered some of your wetness on his fingers, and dipped them back into his mouth again for a taste, moaning around them.
"I wanna eat you so bad, kitten." He lowered himself to you, resting on his elbows on either side of your head, kissing your neck.
"Later. I need you inside me, James." You pressed your core against him, and he nodded, reaching between the two of you to line himself up, slowly easing inside.
You both moaned as he slid inside you, Bucky's eyes fluttering shut, savouring the sensation whilst trying desperately hard not to give in to the urge to immediately bury himself at the hilt, and fuck you without a moments hesitation.
His hips twitched, cock throbbing inside of you, both of you were so desperate for this, and when he finally pulled his hips back, and rolled them back to yours, it was relief like no other.
His first few thrusts were slower, so enraptured by how you felt around him, hot and wet, and fucking perfect. Eventually, he started to speed up, but favoured fucking you harder, rather than faster. He didn't want this to end too quickly.
You were sprawled beneath him, biting your lower lip and moaning with every stroke of his cock against your walls, his body completely draped over yours so with every roll of his hips, his pelvis stimulated your clit. When he started to fuck you harder, repeatedly hitting a spot deep inside you that made you see stars, you were crying out in pleasure, already feeling close to another orgasm.
"Fuck, sweetheart, you feel so good, y'know that? I'm never gonna get enough of this, gonna want to fuck you all the time, 'm never gonna think of anything else." His forehead was resting on your shoulder, one of his hands on your stomach as his other held him up on the bed, "I want you to be mine. Mine to fuck, mine to kiss, mine every minute of the day. God, I want everyone to know, sweetheart, want them to know you're James' girl."
You were moaning with every word, nodding along, whining when his hand drifted lower, his thumb hovering over your clit, but staying completely still, teasing you.
Your heart was so full, just like your cunt, and you hoped to god he'd follow through on his promises, you needed to be his, just as much as you needed him to be yours.
"James, please." You begged, arching your back into him, and he lifted his head from your shoulder to look at you, smiling with a shake of his head.
"You beg real pretty, doll, but you can do better than that. Tell me what you want, and I'll give it to you."
Your eyes practically rolled back, fuck, you loved hearing him talk like this, "I want to cum, please."
He nodded, leaning in close to you, "You want to cum? I'll let you cum, princess."
He began to rub your clit in steady circles, keeping up a steady rhythm that dragged you so close to release.
"C'mon, come for me, sweetheart."
Your eyes fluttered shut as your orgasm rushed over you, and you gripped Bucky's hair tighter, your cunt clenching around him sending him head first into his own orgasm, his hips stuttering against yours as he came inside you, filling you up with his seed.
His forehead was pressed to yours, both of you slowly coming down from your high, and Bucky waited till you'd caught your breath to lean down and kiss you, slower this time, savouring the taste of you as best he could.
You kissed him back eagerly, aftershocks of your orgasm washing over you and making you clench down on him, still inside of you. Bucky groaned into your mouth, before he hesitantly broke the kiss, and leaned back to slide out of you.
"Fuck, sweetheart, such a fucking mess we made." He breathed roughly, glancing down between your legs, watching his cum seep out of you, so turned on by the filthy sight, before looking up at you again, tracing his eyes up your body, completely bared to him. He took in every detail, and smiled at your flushed cheeks, "You're so fucking beautiful."
You smiled back at him, shaking your head as you wrapped your legs around him and reached out, pulling him back down to you to nudge your nose against his, watching the way his nose scrunched up when he smiled, "So are you."
He huffed a laugh and kissed you, before burying his face into the crook of your neck, wrapping his arms around you and holding you as close to him as possible, practically laying completely on top of you, though he held most of his own weight. As much as you would completely, happily welcome the weight of him on top of you, you also know that breathing is kind of a necessary thing to survive... sadly.
"We need to shower." He murmured against your skin, rubbing his stubbly jaw against your shoulder.
You hummed and nodded, raking your nails across the surface of his back.
"We should probably talk too." He followed, keeping his face hidden from your sight.
"We should, but I don't think there's much to talk about that we haven't already. We both want each other, and not just physically."
He lifted his head and gazed down at you, his expression vulnerable, more vulnerable than you'd ever seen him, even with him naked above you, "So... like lovers?"
You smiled at the old-fashioned term, much preferring it to boyfriend and girlfriend, and you nodded, gently brushing hair from his face, "I'd love that, Buck, if you want that too?"
"Yes, I want that, so much."
"Good, let's make it official then."
He nodded smiling down at you, before he stood from the bed, and he picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist and carrying you to the hotel en-suite like he had carried you to the bed earlier.
"You're my girl now, sweetheart." He whispered to your ear, loving the way it sounded on his lips.
"And you're my guy." You replied, kissing his nose.
"Sure am." He smiled proudly, setting you down on the bathroom sink as he turned the shower on, before he turned back to you, leaning on his hands, which rested either side of you, "I will be taking you out on a date when we get back, just so you know."
"I can't wait, baby."
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roosterforme · 2 months
Text
The Younger Kind Part 52 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: As the perfect weekend comes to a close, you start to feel anxious about the way everyone else will perceive the engagement ring on your finger. If you could just stay in your peaceful bubble with the boys, you'd be all set. But Bradley might be about to face something much worse than an unwanted opinion. 
Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, smut, pregnancy topics, and age gap (18+)
Length: 4300 words
Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader
Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.
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From the moment you woke up on Sunday, Bradley had you melting. "Morning, Mrs. Bradshaw," he mumbled against your bare shoulder, his voice deep and gravelly from sleep. His huge, warm body was pressed against your back, and his lips were soft as a breeze touching your skin.
You bit your lip when his big hand snaked slowly around to your belly, and you whispered, "Morning, Daddy."
His lips found the shell of your ear as he chuckled, and goosebumps rippled along your skin. "If you do want to change your name to Bradshaw, then we can order you a new credit card and new checks as soon as we get married. If not, will you at least consider my last name for the baby?"
You wriggled around in his grasp until he released you so you could roll onto your other side and face him. "I want to change it," you said firmly, kissing the end of his mustache and running your fingers through his hair. "I want to match with you and Noah." You could tell he sighed in relief as you added, "And of course the baby will match with all of us."
When you rolled him onto his back, his hands were on your butt, keeping you snug against him. His smile was cocky as he said, "I feel like rewarding you for making all my dreams come true."
Then he nipped at the tops of your breasts as they were pressed against his chest. "Oh yeah?" you whispered. "How are you planning to do that?"
His dark eyes looked a little dangerous as he said, "By doing anything you ask me to."
You squeezed him inadvertently with your thighs, and he smirked. He knew he had you. He was always going to have you. But you knew what you wanted from him, and you were about to say it when you heard another voice in your bedroom doorway.
"Mommy? Daddy? I'm hungry."
Bradley groaned as you rolled off of him and pulled the covers higher. "I should have known since it's eight o'clock," he whispered, kissing your cheek and then reaching for your hand to kiss your ring. "I'll go start breakfast."
Your eyes went wide. "Don't punish the child, Bradley."
He snorted and slipped out from the covers as Skittles trotted out of her bed to join both of the boys. Your eyes raked over Bradley's body and his snug briefs as he reached for a pair of sweatpants while Noah yawned. "Let's go, Bub," he whispered, picking his son up and turning back to you. "Take your time, but also don't be too long. I think he wants edible food."
Then they were gone and you took a few minutes to sprawl out in bed and examine your engagement ring. You just got it, and already you were wondering how soon you could feasibly get a wedding band to join it on your finger. "Oh," you moaned softly, realizing Bradley might want to wear a wedding band, too. "That would be hot."
You rolled out of bed, nearly falling to the floor as you quickly pulled on some clothing, and then you were rushing to the kitchen where Noah was eating some apple slices sprinkled with cinnamon. Bradley was leaning on the counter with baseball scores open on his phone while he brewed some coffee, and you wrapped your arms around him from behind. 
"That was quick," he muttered when you made your presence known.
"Are you going to wear a ring?"
He turned to face you with a slightly confused look on his face. "Like a wedding ring?"
"Yes," you replied quickly, because somehow knowing this information was extremely urgent to you. "Are you going to wear one?"
You must have sounded more aggressive than you meant to, because he told you, "I mean, I was planning on it, yes. Is that okay?"
Then your head tipped back and you moaned softly. "Oh my god, Bradley. That's sinfully hot. All of your old man stuff and your body and your voice. And you're going to wear a wedding ring, too?"
"Well, yeah. I thought we could get matching engravings inside our rings with the wedding date and a little crown." You had to press your lips together to keep from screaming, and he had the audacity to ask you, "Are you okay, Baby?"
"No! Obviously not! I hope you realize other women will see that ring on your finger and be jealous of me." You gestured to yourself, feeling like you had perhaps finally lost it over this man. 
Bradley smirked. "They already are though. Look at you. So pretty."
You threw your hands up in the air and let them fall to your sides. "I can't really deal with you right now. Go sit with Noah." He chuckled so you added, "I'm serious. Get your coffee and go." You started to rummage around in the refrigerator so you could make pancakes with fresh whipped cream, still hardly able to believe you were both pregnant and engaged. 
When you started setting eggs and cream on the counter, Bradley reached past you for the French vanilla coffee creamer and made your coffee exactly how you liked it. He left you the mug that said Noah's Dad as he muttered, "I'll have to get you one that says Noah's Mom."
"Maybe just wait a few months and get me one with both names on it."
"I can do that."
-----------------------
Bradley thought you looked tired as the afternoon wore on. It had been an exciting few days, but playing with Noah usually seemed to give you more energy, not take it away. After the three of you colored on the driveway and went grocery shopping and stopped at the park, he suggested you and Noah both take a little afternoon nap.
"Just a short one though," you agreed. "I wanted to talk more about weddings and babies." You yawned again and followed Noah into his bedroom. Once again, Bradley was left with Skittles looking up at him expectantly. 
"Okay, fine. I'll get your leash." Soon there would be an additional pair of eyes looking at him and making him melt. It was bad enough there were already three that he was completely weak for.
He made it halfway around the block with Skittles' little bag of poop in one hand when two women in skin tight athletic apparel ran past him. They said hi in unison while he nodded at them, and then they must have paused right behind him.
He heard one of them mutter, "Big guys with little dogs do things to me."
"Ask him out," said the other woman. "I don't see a ring."
Bradley groaned softly as he tugged on Skittles' leash while she sniffed a cactus growing next to the sidewalk. You and he had literally had a conversation about rings this morning, and now it was too late for him to make a quick getaway without picking up his dog and sprinting down the block. Perhaps he was the one who really needed to be wearing a ring this whole time, not you.
"Hey," the first woman said, and he turned around a little sheepishly. "Your dog is literally so adorable. What's her name?"
He didn't know what he was expecting as he said, "Skittles," but it wasn't for both women to look at him like they were on the verge of getting undressed on the sidewalk. 
"Oh my god, I'm obsessed with her! Hi, Skittles." Bradley swallowed hard and took a deep breath, opening his mouth to just end this thing, but she beat him to it as she knelt down to pet the dog. She looked up at him and said, "We're almost done with our run, and I'd absolutely love to take you out for some coffee if you're free."
All he could picture were the coffee cups he always brought home to you with Princess scribbled on the side. When he started to shake his head, she stood from the sidewalk. "I'm engaged," he replied. "But thanks for the offer."
Both women were pouting when he turned away, and one of them said, "Should have known," before they were on their way again. Bradley was immediately filled with that same feeling he had after he forced himself to go to the app dates. He just wanted to be back home where you were. Where everything felt easier. Where he could just be himself without trying so hard. 
"Come on," he told Skittles, and she looked up at him with her tongue peeking out and started to trot down the sidewalk next to him.
When they got home, the sun was getting lower in the sky, and the house was silent. His bedroom was empty, so he doubled back to Noah's room. Sure enough, you were snuggled up with him, sound asleep, just like Friday night. He could have happily watched this scene for the rest of the night. He kind of wanted to squeeze himself into the twin bed, too. Instead he started working on chores and folding laundry. 
It wasn't too much longer before you woke up and appeared in the kitchen with Noah who was whining about being hungry again. You still looked tired, but you also had a determined expression on your face. You shot Bradley a coy smile over your shoulder as you made grilled cheese sandwiches. 
"What's that look for?" he asked as you sat down with the food.
"Well, first of all, thanks for letting me nap," you said, kissing his cheek. "I don't know why I'm so tired today. Maybe it's from all the excitement of the weekend, or maybe it's a pregnancy symptom?"
Bradley's face lit up. "Both options are good. We can go to bed early tonight."
"Yeah... about that. You know how you wanted to reward me? And give me whatever I asked for?"
---------------------------
A few hours later, you were honestly still pretty tired, but Bradley was on his knees in front of you on the bedroom floor, looking up at you with his addicting eyes. You were wearing just your paper crown and your underwear, and he was already naked and ready. But you wanted him to beg for you, and he knew exactly what to do.
His hands and lips were soft on your sides and your belly, and his cock was hard. "Please, Baby," he whispered as he ran the tip of his nose up along your ribs. "You're perfect."
You pushed your fingers through his hair, tugging on the roots until he moaned. As his hands slid around to your lower back, you said, "Tell me what you want, and I'll decide if you can have it."
Now his lips were frantic against your body, his kisses growing in need as his breathing got more rapid. "I want you," he gasped. "I want to fuck my Princess. I want to love you. Please."
You yanked on his hair so he was looking up at you. "I only fuck knights. And only the one I'm engaged to."
Bradley groaned and kissed your belly as he tugged down your underwear. "Baby, I'm so hard. Please."
You smirked, clearly just as turned on as he was, but keeping it together. "You better be good for me."
He scrambled to his feet and onto the bed, and you straddled his hips. He was poking you with his length, but you took his hands in yours and placed them on your breasts. You closed your eyes and listened to that gorgeous voice whisper please a dozen times as his rough hands worked their magic. His cock was eager, tapping against your thigh with each wave of his arousal. Finally you leaned down and kissed his lips softly.
"Okay, Daddy."
His stamina was commendable, as always. You rode him through two orgasms as he hit the sweet spot inside of you while he played with your clit. His cheeks were flushed, and his eyes were wide as he watched you come for him. And then he had to beg again. 
"Please. Let me finish." But you shook your head and watched him pant. You weren't done yet. You needed another minute. "Please? Please? Baby, I'm begging."
His hands were tight on your thighs as you rolled your hips. "I'm not done yet. You have to wait."
The veins in his neck looked delicious, so you leaned down and licked them. The change in position had him moaning your name, so you whispered next to his ear, "You can come, Daddy." 
You almost screamed when his hips jerked up, his cock pushed so deep inside you. He was babbling unintelligibly about a wedding and the baby as he bucked beneath you, filling you up until his movements finally slowed. His face was slick with sweat as you pushed his hair back from his forehead, and you were delighted as he kept begging.
"Stay with me forever, Princess? Please?"
You fell asleep with your body wrapped around him.
Monday morning hit you like a ton of bricks. You were exhausted and overwhelmed from the weekend, and you realized when you were in the shower that you'd probably have to see Casey when you dropped Noah off. The boys were eating bowls of cereal when you finally made it into the kitchen. Bradley had your coffee ready, and you briefly considered whether or not you should be drinking so much caffeine. Your movements stilled as you remembered all of the champagne you drank recently. 
"You okay?" Bradley asked from his spot at the table. He'd been saying good morning, but you hadn't responded at all.
"Yeah. Just thinking about calling my doctor later."
He was smiling when you looked at him. "Great idea."
You needed to make a lot of changes, and you were starting to feel overwhelmed again. "Will you come to daycare dropoff with us this morning?" you blurted out.
You watched him check the time on the oven clock before he met your eyes again. It sounded so stupid; you and he worked out the schedule you had so that both of you weren't backtracking all over the city. He would be cutting it close to get to work on time, but he said, "Sure. I'll follow you there and then head to base."
"Okay, thank you," you replied, kissing the top of his head. "We'll leave soon."
"Not until you eat something." He pushed the box of cereal in your direction and finished getting Noah ready while you ate. The food made you feel a little better, but your engagement ring felt like it weighed a ton on your finger. You were going to get bombarded with questions and comments all day long, and you wished you could just stay home with Bradley and extend the perfect weekend forever. 
But soon enough, you had Noah in your backseat, and you were heading for daycare in your scrubs. You had him out of his carseat by the time the Bronco coasted into the spot next to yours, and Noah was reaching for Bradley with his free hand. At least he seemed delighted that both of you were here with him.
Bradley held the door open and kissed your cheek when you walked past. "I've gotta run in a minute," he reminded you, but that wasn't going to be a problem. You didn't want to be here for more than a minute yourself, because you could already feel Casey's gaze on your body as the three of you entered the building. 
"Hi!" she called out, clearly looking at only Bradley as she smiled brightly. "Did you have a nice weekend?"
"The best," he replied with a smirk in your direction as he wrapped his arm around your waist. 
Then you noticed the colorful prisms bouncing off the wall next to Casey as you stood in the sunlight shining in through the door. Your ring was massive and glittery and impossible to hide, not that you really wanted to. But you could tell second that her gaze landed on your hand, and a grimace settled on her face.
Bradley didn't seem to notice the showdown of sorts as he kissed your cheek before kneeling in front of Noah to tell him to have a good day. Casey looked at you with her sour expression, and you tried your best to keep yourself neutral, unsure whether you wanted to laugh or scream.
"Wow," she finally said. "That's a neat ring."
You nodded, and now you couldn't stop the grin that formed on your lips. It wasn't neat. It was perfect. It was stunning. You were about to say something when Bradley scooped Noah up in a hug and casually said, "Yeah, we're getting married."
Casey nodded, a jerky motion as she pressed her lips together, and then Noah turned and looked at her as he said, "And I'm going to be a big brother!"
"Noah!" you gasped as Bradley's eyes went wide. All of the baby talk during the weekend must have made an impression. You and Bradley had been talking openly about what was going on, and Noah must have picked up on things. He probably absorbed all of the information, including when you told Bradley that he'd be an amazing big brother. 
"Yeah, you are, Bub," Bradley said with a laugh before he looked at you. "Well, that cat's out of the bag, I guess," he whispered.
"We were not at all discreet when we discussed things in front of him," you replied softly, happy that he was smiling about it.
"That's... neat," Casey repeated, looking like she just ate a lemon. "Wow." She handed Bradley the clipboard while she glared at you, and you avoided her by giving Noah a kiss.
"I'll pick you up later," you promised him, and then he was walking back into the classroom with Casey who had her nose in the air. 
Bradley was checking the time again. "I need to go, Princess. You good?"
"Yes," you replied, watching Noah's little backpack disappear from view. "I'll see you at home tonight."
He grabbed you up and kissed you, giving a bit of a show to the family who just walked in to drop their child off. "I love you," he rasped before running out the door.
You also disappeared before Casey could return, and of course, it was a typically busy Monday at work. But Dr. Kelly gasped when she saw your ring, and the other nurses squealed when you told them Bradley proposed. Pretty soon you'd have to let them know you were pregnant, too, but since Noah wasn't here to blow your cover, you didn't mention it yet. You did however schedule an appointment with your own doctor. 
You got to assist with stitches, clean up a scraped leg while a little girl cried, and fend off a single dad who was blatantly looking at your boobs while he asked you out. Then you got to clean up the floor after a kid peed in the first exam room. You were just bracing yourself for a disaster when Dr. Kelly called you into room two where a boy had bite marks on his arm. "Happened at daycare," she told you, and you got the antiseptic ready.
If that kind of thing ever happened to Noah, you weren't sure how you'd be able to stay calm. Then you thought about the baby, and it threw you for a loop. You felt so protective of both of them already. You still had the scars on your arm from when you fell running away from Meredith. 
So you cleaned up his arm while you sang Noah's favorite song about dinosaurs, taking the time to be careful around the bruising. Fat tears rolled down his cheeks, but he sat still for you. Then you let him have as many stickers as he wanted before he left.
You were exhausted and on the verge of tears when you left in your car at five o'clock. You should have known you'd be overwhelmed today, and you needed to get home and spend the night with Noah and Bradley like your sanity depended on it. Traffic was heavy, but when you finally made it back to the daycare, you rushed inside to get it over with.
Of course it was just you and Casey. She set the clipboard down on the edge of the counter but made no move to get Noah for you as you signed your name. Then a malicious looking smile found her lips. "He only proposed because you're pregnant. You know that, right?"
You already knew that's what people were going to assume. You even told Bradley as much. Casey must have been stewing over that information all day long, ready to try to make you feel bad about yourself. It didn't even matter, because you already knew the truth, but in that moment, you felt so damn petty. 
"Bradley actually proposed before he knew I was pregnant, and it was by no means an accident. But nice try, Casey. Now, would you mind doing your job and getting Noah for me? I can't believe I have to remind you what your job entails so frequently."
Her smile turned to a scowl, and you were ready to go a few rounds with her if needed as you slid the clipboard toward her again. You had the upper hand here no matter what, because the Bradshaws were all yours. But she didn't respond, rather she turned away from you and went inside the classroom to get Noah. The idea of knocking all of her neatly organized paperwork to the floor crossed your mind, but you decided to be an adult and just wait for Noah. You were almost immediately awarded with the sweetness only he could bring to your day.
"Mommy!" he called out, running across the small lobby to get to you. "I painted Skittles, but I made her green and yellow!"
"Show me," you said as you bent to pick him up, and then he was holding out his picture as you kissed his cheek. "She's stunning, sweet Noah. I love her."
"We can hang it up at home. On the fridge."
You nodded and carried him outside without looking at Casey. She could eat dirt for all you cared. "The refrigerator is looking really full of your artwork these days, but I'm sure we can squeeze it in. Now, do you want ants on logs or fancy apple snails with your dinner?"
-------------------------
"Well, I fucking did it," Nat said with an exasperated sigh when Bradley walked across the tarmac with her.
"Did what?" he asked, already slightly concerned about where this conversation might be headed.
She flapped her hands in the air in front of herself like that was supposed to mean something. "With Javy! I turned it from friends with bennies into a thing."
"A thing?" he asked, getting more confused by the moment. "What kind of thing?"
"A relationship!" she hissed before clapping her hand over her mouth like she'd said a dirty word.
"Oh," he replied with a laugh. "You're dating him? Like actually dating him? Is this your first boyfriend?" She kicked him in the shin. "Fuck!"
"Come on, Bradley! You know this is a big deal for me! Even admitting to him that I like him made me feel filthy."
"Jesus," he groaned, taking a step to the side to get further away from her as he walked. "I literally can't fathom what he sees in you."
She glared at him. "I could say the same damn thing about your sweet girlfriend. She could have guys eating out of her hand, but she somehow finds you charming?"
Bradley didn't want to say it, but you probably technically found Noah charming. And if last night's activities were any indication, you definitely did have Bradley eating out of your hand. All you had to do was just mention you wanted him to beg for you, and he was on his knees. He'd been that way since the beginning. He had no problem giving you control when you let him know that's how you wanted the evening to go.
"She's not my girlfriend anymore," he replied, watching her reaction from the corner of his eye. 
His best friend dropped her helmet and almost tripped over it as she reached out to wrap her hand around his forearm. She looked devastated as she softly said, "Oh my god, Bradley. She dumped you?"
His jaw dropped open as he came to a stop, and he glared at her. "Seriously, Nat? That's where your mind went? I proposed!"
Her eyes went wide. "She said yes? You're engaged?"
"Yes!" he insisted with his hands on his hips. "You're the worst."
But she didn't even hear him, because now she was screeching and stepping on his feet as she hugged him. "I'm so happy for you! That was quick, but holy shit, it just makes sense! Do I get to collect a finder's fee?"
When she kissed his cheek he said, "All you did was set me up on a bunch of miserable dates while she babysat Noah."
"Exactly! Mutual pining!" she replied with a laugh. "None of this would have happened if I didn't put the app on your phone, so you're welcome."
He tried to disentangle her from his arms so he could pull up the photo he took of the ring when he heard Maverick clear his throat. When he looked at his godfather, he didn't seem thrilled, and Bradley's stomach lurched when he said, "Rooster. We need to talk."
----------------------
Okay, well Casey is the worst. And Skittles is a chick magnet, but we already knew that would be the case. Now let's see if we can get to a wedding and a baby before disaster strikes. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 53
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serenitysought · 2 years
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PAX   HAS   BEEN   BARKING   at   something   in   the   treelines   for   quite   some   time   and   the   apostle   ALMOST   wishes   he   had   heeded   jacob’s   warnings   about   remaining   armed   when   he   leaves   his   humble   abode   in   CASCADE   HILLS   .         the   role   of   protector   has   been   given   to   his   faithful   wolfhound   ,   but   never   will   he   attack   unless   paul   deems   it   necessary   .   if   only   he’d   had   the   animal   before   jessica   black   decided   to   seek   her   revenge   on   his   family   through   HIM   ,   then   perhaps   he   wouldn’t   need   use   of   the   cane   that   aids   him   in   his   ventures   through   hope   county’s   vast   and   diverse   landscapes   .      
the   seed   brother   approaches   through   a   thick   set   of   bushes   ,   using   the   cane   to   push   aside   the   branches   hoping   to   get   a   view   of   what   pax   is   so   dutifully   after   only   to   find   @korctyshka​​   .   he’s   seen   that   picture   posted   all   over   hope   county   ,   and   she   is   WANTED   ,   but   they   haven’t   had   the   pleasure   of   meeting   yet   .   paul   has   head   stories   and   none   are   good   ,   but   he   tries   not   to   judge   for   that   is   only   GOD’S   doing   .   
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paul   tilts   his   head   not   taking   any   chances   by   moving   any   closer   ,   but   unable   to   bend   his   knee   to   kneel   to   her   level   .   this   will   have   to   do   .   yet   she   speaks   before   he   ever   has   the   chance   to   ask   .      would   she   know   him   ?      or   recognize   the   haunting   blue   eyes   that   are   all   too   similar   to   his   brothers   ??      only   one   lists   to   gesture   on   order   to   quiet   his   dog’s   excessive   need   to   protect      ,   but   it   was   what   he   was   trained   for   .      ❝      it   doesn’t   appear   to   be   just   a   scratch   .   ❞   paul   says   finally   ,   his   voice   calm   and   soft   as   always   .      ❝      will   you   allow   me   to   help   you      ??      ❞
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'' it's just a scratch. i'll be fine. '' injury prompts. 
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httpiastri · 3 months
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snowy mountains & hot baths – op81
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you, oscar, and an empty spa can only lead to one thing.
genre: very short smut 😶
pairing: oscar piastri x female reader
warnings: uhhh public sex.... unprotected sex, wrap it before you tap it yall!!
author's note: happy valentines day :) wish i had oscar here to celebrate with me... anyway. idk about this one guys 🫠🫠 started out alright but then i hated half of it so i deleted it and rewrote it but it just got worse. and i know that if i don't just post it rn, i will likely procrastinate and never end up posting it at all. yay. hope u enjoy anyway! i also have another oscar fic done that's at least a bit better than this lol.
f1 masterlist
18+ content below, minors do not interact!
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a low groan leaves oscar's lips when he dips his feet in the warm water. he instantly turns around, eyes finding you standing by the door you've just walked through to get to this outdoor area of the spa. he holds his hand out towards you, beckoning for you to step closer.
"it feels so good," he promises, gaze following your every move as you let your robe slide down your arms. his eyes widen when you reveal your newly bought bikini – papaya orange, of course – and a shudder passes through his body at the sight of the tiny material trying it's best to cover you up.
he thanks all the gods he can think of that there's no one else around.
goosebumps grow across your skin now that you're exposed to the sub-zero temperatures, toes curling in the short layer of snow on the deck. you stroll over to him, making sure to let your hips sway a little extra with every step because you know he's watching and you know what he's thinking. the sight of him gulping as his eyes wander up and down your body can only mean one thing.
taking his hand in yours, you let him pull you into the water with him, letting out a content sound when the water envelops your legs and brings the temperature of your body up again. oscar gives your hand a squeeze and leans back, his back hitting the water as he submerged into it. you dive in right after him, making a few strokes beneath the surface before coming up for air again. your hands come up to wipe away the water from your face, before brushing over your hair and tying it up in a messy bun on top of your head.
"this is just what i needed," your boyfriend says, drawing out an agreeing hum from you. it's been a long day – a long week, really – filled to the brim with skiing, hot chocolate drinking, skiing, cable car-rides, and then more skiing. oscar doesn't usually get a lot of time off work, and when he does, he wants to make the most of it. and as his partner, he thinks you should be doing the same, and that's why he's woken you up in the early hours every morning this last week, practically bouncing from how much he aches to go out in the swiss alps yet again.
the hot tub is big enough to swim around in, but oscar makes his way to the side and sits down on the built-in seat, arms stretching out and resting on the edge of the pool. you swim over to him, easily slipping onto his lap and letting your hands rest on his shoulders. oscar tenses up when you sit on him, and you're not surprised by the length already poking up at you – he's just a man, after all – but you decide not to do anything to acknowledge it just yet.
"it's really beautiful here, don't you think?" you ask, looking to your side. the sun has only just set, so the little village isn't completely dark yet. the moon above your heads casts a soft hue over the mountains you've spent all week conquering, stars twinkling among the tops.
"not as beautiful as you, though." there's barely any lightning out here other than the little candles scattered across the floor, but you see the fire in oscar's gaze clearly when you look back at him. he's staring at you like you're the most perfect work of art, the most beautiful thing to ever exist – and your expression matches his, because he truly is your favorite thing to look at in the world. your heart flutters at the contrast between how cute he looks with a few locks of his long fringe curling along his forehead, and how incredibly sexy his body looks with the little droplets of water decorating his muscular chest. he's just stunning.
"you really did a great job with planning and booking all of this, you know," you start. "i may have complained quite a bit when you dragged me out of bed at six am, but... it's all been perfect."
your hands find the space just below his jaw, and it takes all of your strength not to blatantly stare at his thick neck when you feel the muscles under your touch.
"well, perfect except for the fact that my legs are so sore right now."
oscar chuckles at this confession, hands leaving the edge of the pool and dipping into the water instead. "let me help you out with that, then..."
a jolt of electricity shoots down your spine when his palms meet your bare thighs, fingers pressing into the skin and stroking you softly. your eyes flutter closed, loving every second of his massage and growing hotter when his hands make their way further and further up. it doesn't take long before oscar can't hold back anymore, reaching up to press his lips against yours.
you sigh into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling yourself further towards him, your crotch brushing against his as a result. the moan he lets out is so hot that you instinctively begin grinding down against him, wanting to hear more.
oscar gets the hint, but finds himself reaching for your shoulders, holding you back as he leans out of the kiss. your lips chase after him, a frown taking over your face when he doesn't give in. you open your eyes to look at him.
"are you sure... that you want to..." oscar's voice is low but genuine; he knows you aren't a fan of exhibitionism, and that these situations usually only make you uncomfortable.
but the look in your eyes is impossible to misinterpret. "there's no one around..."
he looks around the area once more just to make sure. choosing to go to the spa at 8pm, the exact time when the restaurant at the hotel was the most crowded, was oscar's best idea yet.
he doesn't say anything else. he just grabs the back of your neck, pushing you down to his lips yet again. it's more rushed now, messy kisses pressed against your lips and his tongue swiping across your bottom lip hastily. his other hand caresses all the way down your back, gives your butt a quick squeeze, and then moves to your front instead. his fingers trace the edge of your bikini before dipping inside of it, finding your clit with ease.
your upper body is completely leaning onto him by now, little sounds slipping past your lips as he starts drawing circles onto your already sensitive bud. in no time, he's slipped past your clit, one finger sliding into your core and pumping you a couple of times before being joined by another finger. you can't help but clench around him, exhaling into the kiss.
"please, oscar..." you whine against his lips, and oscar nods, pulling out of you and breaking the kiss. he holds your hips away a little to make space for his hand undoing the knot that holds up his swim trunks, before pulling his dick out of them. he lifts you up, fingers pushing your bikini bottoms to the side but pausing when his tip meets your core. he waits for your nod of consent before finally entering you.
the water helps him glide into you, a throaty moan rumbling from his throat when he bottoms you out. he doesn't give you even a second to adjust, hands on your hips pulling you up before sinking you onto him again.
"fuck," he lets out, throwing his head back when you start to roll your hips against his. "you feel so good..."
you lean forward, forehead resting on the bend of his neck as you bounce up and down on him. your hands move to the back of his head, fingers getting lost in his locks, and it doesn't take long before your movements get sloppier. you gasp when oscar begins thrusting up into you, meeting your downward movements in a steady rhythm.
his grip on your hips grows firmer, rough fingers pressing into your skin and surely leaving marks for tomorrow. he's getting closer, too – you can tell by the string of moans he's letting out in between a bunch of swearwords – and you use your last bit of energy to pick up your pace and help him out. your walls contract around him when you come, and you feel him reach his own high not long after, twitching and shooting into you as you ride out your orgasms.
his hands are more gentle now, brushing up and down your back and following the bumps of your spine. when you finally gain the energy to speak, your words vibrate against his skin. "well, we're never coming back to this spa again." you lean back slightly, looking up at him for the first time in a while. "or the town, for that matter."
his blissed-out eyes meet yours, soft and glossy as he raises his eyebrows. "why's that?"
his flushed cheeks make him look so innocent, but his heaving chest tells another story. "did you not see the cameras?" you question.
"oh, you think we're the first ones to do this here?" you gasp at his wording, splashing some water his way. he laughs. "what, do you really? i reckon this happens here at least once every day. maybe even more."
"oscar!"
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pia-nor481 · 6 months
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New set
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Oscar Piastri x reader smut 18+
3.6k words
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Oscar had planned this date for weeks, he knew exactly where to go and what to wear, granted it was a suit and bow tie, he knew she liked it, even though he was slightly strangled from the collar of the shirt. He'd been so busy with racing that they had almost no time together , apart from phone calls and the occasional text, it made racing weeks insuferable for him. All Oscar wanted was his darling girlfriend next to him, he wanted her to kiss him, he wanted her touch, he just wanted to breathe the same air. He'd even spent hours picking out the perfect dress, making sure it was taloired to fit in all the right places. He bought matching shoes and the perfect necklace for the neckline of the dress. The metal sat perfectly on her collar bones, making her neck more attractive to him than it already was. He aided her in the zipping up of her dress, he helped brushing out her hair and styling it, although that only included sectioning it. Oscar would have done her make up, if he was capable. You'd think a formula one driver would have very steady hands and a lot of precision, but not Oscar; he could not get eyeliner wings the same length or width no matter how hard he tried. So he insisted on watching her in the bathroom, he was more than happy to pass each product to her and watched as she applied each one. He was hyper focused on this, until she began to put her things away. He reached for her perfume bottle and sprayed behind her ears, chest and elbows. She quickly followed suit, searching for his new colone, one he'd bought on her request. She sprayed his chest, shoulders and abdomen before reaching for his tie, she had done the bow so perfectly in his eyes, when in fact it was a tad bit crooked.
"You look gorgeous as ever, love" Oscar spoke softly, sliding his hand down her back to guide her towards the front door. Heat rose to her face as she almost shied away from him. He was always quick to give her complements, this made a few think that they were insincere, but no, he was completely obsessed with her. Everything she did was perfect in his eyes and there was good reason for him to think this. They had reached the front door, Oscar immediately dropping to his knees to put her shoes on. "Oscar, baby, you don't need to help me, you've already done so much tonight, plus you have had a very long few weeks with the racing and testing." Little did she know this is how he'd spend every waking moment , with her. "I love you too much to not help, especially when you deserve it. You've been very busy as well, but you insisted on staying up until stupid o'clock to speak to me." He was right, she spent most of her nights talking with him, about racing and her own job. Mostly about Oscar's distain for DRS. But there was the occational phone sex, which both very much enjoyed. Once the pair had reached the car, Oscar had opened her door and done her seatbelt up. "I would kiss you but I dont want to mess up that lip gloss." He breathed out, turning the corner towards the resturant. She slid her hand up his leg a touch before speaking, "I get the feeling it wont last all night anyway." They pulled into the car park quicky, as to not miss the reservation. "Don't tease me, not in these trousers"
Once they had reached the table, he pulled her chair out, always the gentleman. "Thank you." She barely got out once her gaze met his, he offered a sweet smile and sat down. They'd ordered some wine and began to discuss everything imaginable. "So I brought this new camera but I don't really know how to use it, like I understand how to take pictures but not how to make them good." He nodded along , making sure she knew that he was paying attention. "Unfortunately i also am not very good with a camera, but I'm sure you'll get there. You always manage to take good pictures of me." Oscar said, taking a sip of his drink, questioning why he would even ask for a glass; he didn't enjoy wine much, but he knew she did, so he swallowed the liquid with out a complaint. "Unless it's a 0.5" she giggled from behind her glass, knowing he'd shake his head. "Now those, I must admit, are absolutly horrific." He said with a smile, he was never afraid to be himself with her, she always understood him, always taking his jests as jokes; Many did not get his sense of humor, but she did. She always did. They finished up the meal rather quickly. "Did you want dessert before leaving, Love?" He asked, anticipating her to say yes, it was rare for her to deny a sweet treat. Oscar also used this as an excuse to further cheat on his diet. "No, not today. I think there's something at home you'd like more." She said, as a slightly devious look painted her face. "Don't flirt with me too much, Darling, I'm not sure we would make it home if you keep this up."
The walk to the car was fast, Oscar had picked up his pace, wanting to get home as quick as possible, it was becoming almost painful. The whole drive back was rather silent, Her hand rested on his knee as he practically sped home, there was no worry about the speed limits, not that 100mph would have affected him much anyway. His mind however was working overtime, so many thoughts passed through, each one he had to suppress; he could not act on any thought, though he wanted to, so desperately. Oscar wanted to tease her just as much as she'd been doing to him, he wanted to pull her underwear away and slide two fingers inside, and make her cum right then and there. He wanted her to try and keep quiet, stressing about getting caught, but inevitably she'd moan his name loud. "My underwear are so soaked right now Oscar." She whispered out, voice becoming slightly higher. She was edging him on, hoping to rile him up enough to stop the car then. But he didn't, Oscar didn't even reply; so focused on not crashing the car. He needed to fuck her so badly, but she need to wait. She needed to be patient, something she was never good at. Oscar could try and teach her, but it wouldn't last. Plus he'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy her behaviour the way it was now.
"Get out." He was demanding, but somehow not aggressive or mean. But his chivrealry did fade slightly as he walked straight to the front door, opening it swiftly. She followed as fast as physically possible with her heels on. As soon as she passed the thresh hold of the door he pushed her against it. "How many times do I have to tell you not to tease me? You know I'll just do it back, make you wait longer for what you want." Oscars hands slowly ran up her sides, stopping at her waist to give it a harder than nessecary squeeze. He enjoyed working his way around her body, not that he minded, he loved to simply admire her. Oscar smirked, knowing she was getting angsty, she just wanted to feel good, but he wouldn't let her, not yet anyway. It was very obvious that he liked foreplay just as much as the sex. It wasn't just something he needed to do, but rather something he wanted, something he craved. One of his hands traveled up he neck and reached her jaw agonisingly slow; He grasped it softly and pulled her into a passionate kiss, his other hand groped her ass, pulling her body so her chest was flush with his. He could feel how aroused she was, how hard her nipples were. He briskly decided to toy with them, just to hear her whine, after all, he diserved it. Her mews were muffled into his mouth as the kiss deepened, her hands were quick to snake around his neck, pulling him back towards her. In the mean time he twisted and tugged on her nipples. "Please Oscar, it's not fair." He began to feel slightly guilty hearing her statement, so he slid one of his hands down her abdomen. His hand slipped under her dress, toying with her underwear before letting his fingers touch her clit, only lightly. A sigh of relief slipped from her lips. She was quickly becoming as desperate as him and that only made him smile more. His desires were quickly becoming selfish, even though he began to rub tight circles on her clit, all he wanted was to hear, and see, how good he was making her feel at that moment.
He continued to build her up while his other hand continued to venture over the rest of her body, their lips rejoined but he pushed his tongue into her mouth, Oscar needed to feel every part of her, every part of her that needed him. His hand returned from her underwear as he dropped to his knees once again, bringing his hands over her legs, He lightly kissed her thighs while pushing the dress further up her hips. He tore the lace of her underwear apart, not bothered by her gasps of shock as the cold air touched her skin. His mouth attached to her cunt as quick as she would allow. He sucked and licked without a regard for his breathing, he was using this as a distraction. While pulling her shoes off, Her hands got tangled in his hair rather quickly in an attempt to ride his face. His nose lightly brushed her clit as his tongue slowly darted in and out of her cunt. She craved pleasure, she craved him. He came up from her thighs, looking up at her face immediately, being met with a gaze of lust. Oscar kissed her lips as he picked her up bridal style to carry her up the stairs. In the mean time she insisted on sucking and biting on his neck, even though he had said a few times it was no wise as he would get teased by the other divers about his love life. He carried her up the steps and kicked the bedroom door open, then placed her on the desk opposite the bed. Making sure she was comfortable against the cold surface, he then stood between her legs and kept eye contact as he unzipped the dress leisurely, sliding the shoulders down at a slow place. He like the feel of the fabric on his hands, but he wanted to feel her skin so much more. She closed her eyes and whined again, practically begging him to take her there.
"Wait and you'll get what you want, baby. When have I ever left you unsatisfied?" She let her head fall into is chest lightly, she was defeated because he was right, there was never a time she wasn't pleased; Even over a call where she could only hear his voice, although that was something she found so attractive she could cum just from hearing it.
"That's what I thought." He laughed out, lightly of course, so she didn't feel too disheartened. His fingers slid down and over her slit, her next comment was caught in her throat at the feeling. One thought began to merge with another, soon she couldn't think about anything other than his fingers inside of her. Her vision began to fade as he slipped another inside, just to pull them out again, causing her spine to straighten. She gave him a pointed look at the loss of his fingers, she wanted it so bad, but he denied her pleasure, something he promised . "Oh don't be like that. You know it will feel even better later when you do cum. It always does." Oscar exclaimed with a beautiful smile, which contradicted his almost harsh words laced with a sweet tone.
He reached for his belt, letting her know that she also needed to be bare. Her dress quickly fell to the floor so she helped him undress, pulling the bow tie loose from around his neck and letting it fall to the floor. Her hands slowly reached out for the buttons of his shirt, she decided it was worth giving him a taste of his own medicine. As slow as physically possible, she undid the buttons, Oscar shook his head, trying to be patient. Once his shirt was discarded he began to feel her up again, reaching for her tits again, evidently the bra was in the way. But it looked so amazing on her, everything did. She always brought the most stunning lingerie, it was what she liked to spend her money one. To look and feel good. Wasting no time, he ripped it apart where the fabric met at her cleavage. "Oscar!" was all he heard, picking her up with ease; He gently threw her on the bed and crawled between her legs. She looked at him, almost completely fucked out, yet he barely even touched her. Oscar began to slowly stroke his cock at the sight of her. It was just so arousing, so much blood rushed through his body, making him impossibly harder. He dragged the tip of his cock over her cunt, teasing again, before slowly pushing the head in then pulling it out. He repeated this motion until she wrapped her legs around his waist, urging him to slide all the way in. It was hard to resist so he gave in to her desire. Oscar kept the pace slow, wanting to feel all of her.
One of his hands slid up and down her thigh, it was a comforting act he knew she liked. They had a long talk about what they had experienced and what they wanted from sex when they first got together. Oscar's main points was how he wanted to be in charge, but only when he really knew her and how her body worked. He aimed to learn every little thing that got her hot and bothered, what got her wet and what made her cum the fastest. She said that she was sick of how rough men could be, thinking automatically that's what she wanted.  She loved the romantic aspect of sex, more than just the sensational joys. She wanted to be intimate and to feel loved. It seems as though it was all possible with him. She didn't want to feel used, and he always made sure of it.
Oscar's other hand grazed over her wrist before they interlocked their hands. He was trying not to put too much pressure on her. Ensuring that she only felt good. "That's it, yes, Oscar." She moaned out, mouth falling open. His hands left their current home in order give her a new sensation. They both loved to try new things, to see what could be felt. So Oscar began to rub her clit again, at varying speeds and pressures to find what felt most pleasurable today. Once he found the right pace he continued steadily wanting her to reach the peak like she deserved.
She moaned loud, gasping for air while reaching out for him. "You like that baby? Yea? Feels so good right?" He said, voice dropping an octave, even with the teasing tone. She could only nod, not trusting her voice to fully convey her feelings. She slowly began to pull him closer by his neck, they started to kiss again, though, this time it was a lot more rushed and a lot more needy. Oscar bathed in the feeling of her nails raking down his back as she almost squeezed him for support. Even if he was hovering over her. He grabbed behind her knee, lifting her leg to get a better angle, knowing it would fill them both with bliss. And was he right. "Uh, Oscar, Mh, feels, feels so good baby." With her words slurring together he knew she was getting closer. Her heart was beating loud and her lungs were burning. Something about the glint in his eyes pushed her further towards release, his groaning didn't help either. Her ability to resist was dimmed as Oscars hips started to move a tad bit faster. "There..there you go." He began to praise again, "Always so perfect for me," her face warmed as a response.
The feeling was becoming too much, her mind was too foggy and her body couldn't take anymore. The pleasure was blinding, her voice echoed around the room and her head shook side to side. Her hips came off of the bed as her spine curved. Oscar didn't let up, making sure to let her ride her orgasm out. He didn't want to ruin it after all the teasing. Once she had come down she'd pulled him into a kiss. Her cunt was still twitching, so Oscar pulled out, kissing her back. He moved her further up the bed, to rest her head against the pillows before continuing.
He slid his cock back in with ease, not starting as slow as he did before, he knew she could take it now. His hands rested on the headboard as a form of support, in the mean time, her hand found its way to the back of his head, she began tugging lightly again, a sensation he adored. Any composure they had quickly dissolved as Oscar began to drive in and out of her at a faster pace, chasing his high; his hips rolled rhythmically, she pushed towards him, wanting his cock deeper inside. Oscar's hand pressed down on her abdomen to feel himself, and to make her gasp. He wanted to hear how everything he did affected her, he wanted to see the impact on her, what his control did. It was all becoming too much for Oscar, "Fuck, baby, come with me, I can feel how close you are," He groaned out, pulling her impossibly closer, reaching down for her clit again, not concerned about overstimulating her anymore. The orgasm hit him hard, eyes rolling to the back of his head as his hips stuttered slightly, reducing his speed with out even thinking, no preoccupied with the feeling of her cunt around him. Oscar pulled out just as slow as he first pushed in and reached for her hands, grasping them before pulling them above her head. With her hands pressed down, Oscar had full control, choosing to kiss her, as sloppy as he pleased. Her back arched so gracefully, forcing their chests together. Her orgasm was so powerful all she could think about was him, what he was doing to her. She gazed up at him with glossy eyes, one his hands left hers, travelling past her shoulder blades to aid in the support of her back, he needed her body pressed to him. Oscar pulled away from her lips, a playful smirk on his face; until she used all of her remaining strength to turn him over, pushing his body flush on the bed. As she straddled him, Oscar's hands went straight for her his, keeping her steady all while anticipating her next move. Still in her haze, she ran her hands up his toned abdomen and chests so slow he let out a strained huff, Once she reached his jaw, she grasped it, rather firm, a tad bit aggressive for her. He didn't bother to chastiser her, Oscar new she just wanted to feel him, any way she could. She slipped her tongue into his mouth and he just let her, he gave her everything she wanted and he'd give her everything she could ever ask for. She moaned into his mouth, felling him up, he'd let her do this for as long as she wanted. as long as she could. Simultaneously  he squeezed the plump of her ass and rubbed one hand up and down her thigh, the ghosting touch didn't go unnoticed, she intern decided to bite his lip lightly. Oscar let out a breathy laugh as a response, he looked at her gorgeous eyes, wishing he could stare at them forever. "I love you" they said in unison. 
She began to lie down next to him, not letting go of his hand in the processes. "You are perfect, you know that, right, baby?" Heat crept up her face again and she smiled, leaning further into him. "I think I might have an idea, my boyfriend tells me quite a lot, and I love him dearly, he's rarely wrong." Oscar kissed her cheek as her eyes began to close. They both quickly fell into  a rather deep sleep. 
A few days later, Oscar found himself walking through a shopping centre alone, He planned o buying a few things for her before he had to leave for another race across the world. He walked into a shop and all eyes were on him for a few seconds. Until he began to browsed for her size. Oscar quickly walked towards the till and almost kept his head down before the cashier spoke to him. "I'm sorry but I don't think this is your size." She said, clearly trying to ease his nerves. He smiled lightly before replying. "No? I think I might need to get some work done." The woman behind the till laughed dryly and continued to speak, "So what's the occasion? birthday? Anniversary?" Oscar paused before speaking again, "I broke the last set."
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azrielbrainrot · 4 months
Text
Fire on Fire
Pairing: Eris x Reader
Description: Being female in the Autumn Court was hard enough before you got engaged against your will. You try to avoid your fate at any cost.
Warnings: none
Word Count: 3966
Notes: Writing Eris is hard, I hope this isn't too bad. Also meant for this to be so much shorter but oh well. Feedback is always appreciated! (unless you're mean about it)
Fire on Fire Masterlist
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You watch elegant gowns in all shades of green and orange against tasteful brown and scarlet three piece suits flowing to the music. Your own floor length gown is a muted burnt orange that complimented your figure enough not to be considered provocative. The dress is undeniably beautiful but you would have liked it more had you been allowed to choose it for yourself, it was only upon arriving that you realized the color was meant to match your fiancé's. Orange and burgundy, symbolizing the fire in your hearts, burning for each other. Such a shame you didn't choose him either.
Lively music and laughter can be heard all around the extravagantly decorated ballroom. A proper celebration fit for… you can't even remember what the purpose of this ceremony was. Just another in a long list of mindless parties you aren't allowed to fully indulge in, celebrating people you don't like or traditions you'd rather never participate in.
In any other situation you might have loved to take in the beautiful decorations around the room and lose yourself in the music, dancing and laughing to your heart's desire. But, as you stare at the same intricately decorated chandelier, with magical flames swaying to the beat, you can't take your mind off the people around you.
Your engagement ring clinks against your wine glass slightly, both useless props. You were only allowed a couple modest sips of the wine before putting it aside, as no female should indulge in such a thing, let alone an unmarried one. And the ring seemed more like a mockery than anything else. It symbolized your purpose in this life, to be someone's trophy wife just as your parents had raised you. You think a noose around your neck would feel less haunting.
Thankfully, your parents had left you alone shortly after arriving, letting you sit by one of the tables while you watched the celebration from afar. They must have been content with your demure act, the promised beauty standing off by the side while the married and unclaimed fae reveled in the center of the room. You wonder if you approached the table filled with deliciously smelling goods your mother would winnow to you, lest you look fat in your already too tight corset. It's not even worth the effort for a simple bite of food, you'd rather starve until you're alone.
With a soft sigh you let your eyes wander away from the chandeliers, if you stare at them any longer you might blind yourself with the flames. Pretending no one else was here was an impossible feat anyway. As much as your room feels like a prison sometimes, you'd give anything to go back home right now.
Your eyes meet your future husband's and a chill immediately runs through your body. Eris looks as impeccable as ever in his intricately decorated suit, not a line or hair out of place just as it was expected of the Autumn Court Heir. There is no doubt that he is an exceptionally handsome male, you don't even want to imagine how many fae would kill to be in your place. It's just a shame that his personality is less than desirable, and so is his attitude towards you, and his manners when no one is looking, and that he was the final nail on the coffin that is your stupid fate.
You knew an arranged marriage would eventually become your reality ever since you were a child and your father had told you not to bother with romance, he'd pick someone suitable to marry you and all you had to do was be good to him. In his eyes love is not worth it. You wonder if he even believes it exists, he's certainly never felt it, not even for you, his own child. It makes you feel more at ease knowing no one has ever loved him either, as cruel as that might make you.
For a while you didn't pay your future too much mind, you'd have secret crushes, read romance books behind everyone's backs and even had fleeting affairs when you were a teenager, but it came to a point where you couldn't ignore your fate anymore. When you were freshly seventeen, your mother started intensifying her lessons on how to be a good wife and a good mother - this was the biggest irony since she had never been anything but cruel to you - and your time was consumed with preparations for a future you'd rather run from.
Shortly after, your father put you officially on the market for a husband that would compliment the family's powers, and the High Lord himself came forth, interested in having you marry his eldest son. You knew your family's power was coveted in the Autumn court, your fire was only second to the Vanserra line and the current Lady of Autumn, but this still came as a surprise for you and your family as the High Lord never appeared interested in you. There was no point deluding yourself anymore, your fate as a glorified brooding mare was staring you right in the face.
You had briefly thought of escaping, but the chances of succeeding were slim and you had nowhere to go. You knew the other courts didn't operate on such archaic rules, for the most part at least, but you were also aware that none would accept an autumn court noble female. Your High Lord had burned every bridge with the other courts a thousand times over. You didn't blame any of them for being wary of anything that crawled out of this sickening court.
Words cannot describe how much you hate Beron and everything he stands for which is a good thing because you'd be burned alive in public for speaking those words out loud. Still, you know your feelings of hatred could never hold a candle to Eris' distaste for his own father, and this is how your bargain came to be.
Upon hearing that your future husband would be the heir to the Autumn Court, you had only felt fear like never before. Eris had a reputation of cruelty that preceded him, he was a favorite for the throne among the despicable nobles of this court for a reason after all, but following your first meeting, you had seen a side of him that you'd bet not even a handful of people had glimpsed before and had ultimately came to an agreement that benefitted both of you: you'd push back the date for as long possible while playing the role your fathers expected of the both of you and, if you were lucky, you'd be able to avoid the marriage altogether when Beron wasn't High Lord anymore.
Eris wanted to dispose or Beron, burn down the ruins of this old-fashioned, cruel court and have Autumn be reborn from the ashes. You never intend to call him your husband, but you would gladly help him so you could, one day, come to call him your High Lord.
He observes you for a few heartbeats before downing the content of his glass and setting it aside. In the next moment he's walking straight to you, not ever letting his eyes stray or giving you a moment to breathe.
You can't help but think he looks every bit the High Lord in this moment, with his suffocating power untamed and wicked gaze trained on you. Eris walks to you in slow, intentional steps, like a predator would walk to his prey. His three piece suit was clinging to his frame perfectly, showing off his physique with every step. The pushed back hair only made the intensity in his eyes more noticeable and the strands he left out were framing his face perfectly. Eris looked extremely handsome from afar but he's suffocatingly entrancing when he stands in front of you.
You barely exchange pleasantries before he holds a hand out to you. You can feel everyone's eyes on the two of you, observing every interaction in hopes of finding any detail to gossip about. They all know your marriage is arranged but they're under the impression that, as a female, landing the most sought-after bachelor in the court was your endgame. And there are plenty of people who would go to extreme measures to ensure that they or their family member would be the one becoming the next Lady of Autumn. You're not sure if they'd spare you even if you told them you didn't want anything to do with the title.
“Time to put on a show, doll.” Trying not to let your face show the distaste of the petname he chose for you all those years ago, you take his hand and let him lead you to the middle of the dance floor.
The music changes right before you start, the band knows this is one of the highlights of the evening - the heir and his fiancé. People will be talking about this moment for the next weeks, it's not often you and Eris interact in public after all, just enough for him to show his claim on you as your father so eloquently put it.
Eris leads you through the dance effortlessly, your body following instinctively in turn. You've yet to see him be less than amazing at something. You wonder what kind of picture the two of you paint, moving together so gracefully to the music, orange against burgundy, fire on fire.
“How are you enjoying the evening?” You'd rather he was quiet and ignored you in these moments you have to show up together in public like so many husbands and fiancés do. Eris loves to fan the flames and it's just your luck that they're usually yours. He might not have as much as to lose if you snap and let your fire show, but Beron wouldn't let him go unpunished if his fiancé caused a scene.
“Lovely,” you make sure your gaze is both timid and kind, avoiding his gaze as if you were inferior to him. As he spins you around and brings you in closer, you add in a hushed tone, “Haven't been allowed to eat since this morning and my hair is pulled up so tightly I can barely think.”
“You females sure have it rough.” He means it as a sarcastic comment but you've known him long enough to identify the distaste behind his words. Eris doesn't have the liberty to speak his mind so he's learned to do it behind mockery and sarcasm over the centuries. He knows how rough you have it, unfortunately he's seen it first hand.
“Oh I'm sure you have it so much worse,” you say in a tone you hope matches his, “It's not like you don't spend your mornings walking your hounds around the forest and nights only the Mother knows where.”
You see something spark in his eyes, something akin to satisfaction, before he's tightening his grip on your waist and bringing you in closer. He looks around the room first, as if daring anyone to keep staring while he talks to his soon-to-be wife. Of course, no one does.
“Spying on me, little doll?” Your breath hitches and you know he hears it because you can feel his smirk grow. You'll blame the blush spreading through your flesh and chills moving through your body on your performance later, but in this moment you know they're very much real.
Eris has an effect on you. The male is undeniably attractive, you doubt you'd find any fae or human who wouldn't think so, and that wicked tongue of his only makes him more enticing. You like to blame your body's response to him on your lack of experience, but you're not sure it would be possible to not feel at least tempted to indulge in Eris even if you'd already made your way through the entire court.
“I wasn't trying to,” you swallow, fighting to keep your tone steady and not show any more reaction to his proximity. This much was true, you could barely sneak around to find time for yourself, let alone spend it looking for your fiancé. “Maybe you're just easy to find,” you tilt your head slightly, “This doesn't bode well with all your plans.” You swear you can feel a small chuckle coming from him but he's hiding it before you can be sure.
The song rises in tempo and Eris takes this opportunity to spin you around again, effectively putting some space between you. It's hard to keep a pleasant smile on your face while spewing venom filled words at your husband to be, but letting anyone overhear you or find any little crack in your performance would only bring trouble, and this is routine for you after all. You'd never admit it but with his hand in yours the stares are easier to digest, even if your arrangement was involuntary, at least you weren't alone for once in your life.
The song finally comes to an end. You rush to bow to him slightly so you can go back to an emptier corner of the ballroom and escape everyone's prying eyes, but Eris takes your hand before you can. He takes it up to his mouth, kissing it softly before whispering in your ear.
“Meet me at the cabin later.” It must be an important subject for Eris to even bring this up at a place like this. Though you're sure it had simply looked like he left you with some teasing parting words.
The rest of the ceremony is uneventful. You go back to the same place you had spent most of the night in and ignored the whispers around you. Aside from your mother coming by to ask you what Eris told you - to which you promptly lied and feigned bashfulness - you sat in the corner quietly wondering what your fiancé wants to talk to you about.
As soon as you walk into your room you let out a loud sigh. You wish you could just fall into your bed and not emerge until the sun is high in the sky tomorrow. Unfortunately, you still need to let the maids bathe you and get you ready for bed. Your mother insists on having them help you, especially on days like these, as if you could drown in the bath.
It takes what feels like hours to go through the whole routine, getting you out of the too small corseted dress was a feat in itself. If you had been alone you probably would have already burned it off your body in frustration, it's not like you'll be allowed to wear it again either way.
You lie down in bed as soon as the maids leave, keeping an ear out for everyone else in the house. Trying to leave before everyone was asleep was too risky. They had no reason to think you would leave in the middle of the night like this, but you couldn't help being a little paranoid. There's too much to lose.
When you think it's safe, you climb out of bed quietly. You look down at your nightgown and contemplate changing into something warmer. It barely reaches your knees so you'll definitely be cold, but you were already late and it would be easier to just get back into bed like this. You decide to put on some boots and throw a green hood over it.
Taking one more look around, you winnow to your meeting point. No one knows you have this ability, which is how you can sneak out as often as you do. You've kept this secret from everyone but Eris, though you didn't intentionally reveal it to him either.
He'd shown you this place when you first made your bargain years ago. You're not entirely sure what the cabin was used for before but it was probably only meant for storage. Eris must have found it deep into the forest and decided it was a good place to hide, you can only imagine the things he's gotten up to inside these walls.
As soon as you materialize into the cabin you see Eris standing by the fire. He's changed out of his suit but it doesn't look like he was getting ready for bed with the black ensemble he has on. Yours is probably not the only secret meeting he's having tonight.
“You're late.” Incredible how Eris always strives to be the nicest person in the room.
“I had to wait for everyone to think I was asleep so they didn't see me,” you start as you push the hood off your head, “Excuse me if I took a bit longer making sure no one followed me.”
“You're perfectly excused, doll.” The flames in the hearth climb higher, fueled by your anger that only escalates when you see the familiar smirk on his irritatingly beautiful face. “Oh my. How have you managed to hide your powers with such a fiery disposition?”
You ask yourself that same question often. Fortunately, he might be the only person who can make your temper boil so easily. You don't even want to think what would happen if your father found out how powerful you could be.
Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing you lose your composure, you take a deep breath and walk closer to the fire. The cloak is doing little to ward off the cold of the autumn forest, you hope he at least ends this conversation quickly.
“I was hoping you'd keep the dress on,” he takes on a seductive tone and looks down at your bare legs before locking eyes with you once more, “but this might be even better.” You will never understand why he insists on playing this game with you, you're more than aware that he has no such feelings for you. You also know you probably look ridiculous.
“Well I was hoping you'd get eaten by a wolf on the way here,” you give him a sweet smile, “but we don't always get what we want.”
The disinterested hum he sends your way in lieu of a response is somehow more infuriating than anything he might have come up with. The fact that Eris managed to live over 500 years with this personality might as well be one of the biggest mysteries in Prythian.
“What did you want to tell me anyway?” You just wanted to get this over with and go back to your warm bed so you can finally sleep the day off.
“Our marriage will take place within the year.” The world fell silent at his words. You always knew this day could come, that Eris could only delay it for so long, but hearing the words makes your heart sink.
“What?”
“Beron hasn't talked to me about it yet but he told my mother to start preparations for my wedding.” He runs a hand through his hair, you hadn't noticed how messy it already was. He's as worried about this as you are. “She warned me he'll probably announce it soon. I thought it would be tonight.”
You don't know how to process this. It may have been foolish but you had hoped this would never actually happen since Eris was on your side. You sit on the bench and Eris follows suit. Your masks drop in the small comfort of the secluded cabin, there's no use pretending now.
“What about your other plan?” This was your last chance: if Eris was High Lord he could simply call the engagement off and your father wouldn't be able to argue against it.
“I will need more time.” You close your eyes tightly, wishing you could just disappear. “I'm trying to move things along as fast as I can but I won't be able to finish all the preparations before the end of the year. There's too much at risk.”
“We will be married by then.” It's over.
“It can't be helped.” You'd give anything to see Autumn rid of Beron, if the price has to be your freedom so be it. Still, you can't help feeling defeated, it feels like you're mourning a life you never even had the chance of living.
You don't know if Eris had any hope of finding love like you did but, even if he didn't, you know he didn't want to be chained to someone he didn't choose either. He had witnessed how awful his parent's marriage had been just like you did yours so he must have at least hoped for a companion of his choice or to stay alone.
“I've thought of sending you away,” you look up at him, surprised at his words, “but my father would order me to find you, and I'd have to obey him. Failing Beron's orders brings too big of a punishment for me and my family.” His gaze moves from the fire in front of you to meet yours, “I would hate to ever hurt you, doll, so I need to keep you here.”
If there was one thing you could respect about Eris was his commitment to keeping his family safe. You're not actually sure if any of them are aware of the sacrifices he makes for them - from what you've heard the family dynamic is interesting at best - but it tugs at your heart strings. You used to pray for someone to care for you that much, to protect you like this.
You wonder how things ended up like this. Maybe thinking you could have avoided this future when it was written for you when you were born had been simply a foolish delusion. At least Eris was one of the best options, as much as you hate to admit it. You'd at least not have to worry about him being violent with you or treating you like you were less than an animal.
“Well,” you sit up straighter and stare right into the fire, feigning nonchalance even through your shaky voice and teary eyes, “I guess we'll have to get used to each other.” No use crying over spilt milk. It was better to accept this reality sooner than later. “Being Lady of Autumn might still bring me some perks in the end.”
You might have to give up on your chance at love and to build a life for yourself, but you can at least help Eris change this court for the better. When you turn your head and meet his amber eyes you find an intensity you weren't expecting, if you didn't know any better you'd think he was proud of you.
“Already thinking of ways to rule my court?” The smirk on his face wasn't quite as cutting as usual. “How ambitious of you, doll.”
“Our court,” you clarify, “What's yours is mine, husband.”
He studies your face for a few moments with a glint in his eyes, noticeable even through the reflection of the fire. You're not sure what he's searching for. Any signs you'd back down or try to run away despite his warnings? Whatever it was, it seems he reached a conclusion.
“We'll rid this court of Beron,” he extends his hand towards you, holding his palm up, “and give it a new worthy ruler.” Another bargain. He wants to add to your former agreement, that one would disappear the moment you got married anyway.
“We'll make this a better place to live, a court we can be proud of.” You have nothing else to lose. You take his hand and feel the magic instantly. You're now bound to Eris in an oath you intend to fulfill at the cost of your life. You'd make him High Lord or you'd die trying.
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