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sukirichi · 3 years

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defeat (m.)

no thoughts, just sparring with naoya in his black tee and fucking him all sweaty

cw. sweaty sex, breeding kink, naoya and his wife are both ass people, doggy style, naoya is very touchy, lame fight scenes lol, creampie, unedited and just brainrot tbh

note. in honor of naoya being a canon ass man and overall just celebrating his sexiness (plus talking to my wife about naoya genuinely awakened my breeding kink) prompted by this ask!

# part of the trophy wife collection

“Let’s train. Gym, in five minutes,” your husband commands with a playful glare. Rolling your eyes at him, you lean back to make yourself more comfortable on your seat, arms crossed over the robes to show your defiance.

It’s not every day you tease him like this, but training in the middle of the day? You’re not in the mood of it.

One quirked brow from Naoya, though – merely a premise of what is to come if you don’t follow him to the training grounds – has you switching to your yoga pants and a fit shirt to match his outfit. The whole way there, you shamelessly stare at his backside that looks enticing and begging to be squeezed, especially in his light grey sweats that cling to his thighs deliciously.

“You done staring at my ass now?”

“Nope,” you chirp, popping the ‘p’ as he begins to stretch, rolling his eyes at you when you still very much openly stare at his ass. But it’s fine, since he’s doing the same and you’re prompting him to in the first place.

Out of your extensive wardrobe that your husband spoils you with, you had to choose a pair of dark yoga pants that are hugging the outlines of your legs, your shirt barely even keeping you modest as you extend your arms side to side. You and Naoya smirk at one another, cursed energy kept brimmed to the bare minimum as to not hurt each other. Despite always being cooped up in the Zen’in Estate per Naoya’s orders (and you don’t really feel like going out anyway), neither of you doubted your skills in sparring.

Long before he met you, he’s heard of your name spoken in high esteem, another special grade one sorcerer just like he was. This fact remains even as you’re married now, and Naoya closes the gap between your bodies, his gaze directed at your lips and hands trailing up to squeeze your neck, his eyes so hazy that it seems as if he’s not entirely aware of his actions.

“My love,” you purred, clasping the wrist connected by the hand where his thumb is rubbing circles over your vein. “Are we here to train or are you too distracted?”

“A sorcerer must never be distracted.”

“So keep your eyes wide open, sweetheart,” Ducking your head under his grasp, you ram yourself into his chest where he immediately falls on the ground, the wind knocked from his chest. Naoya’s reflexes are fast before he’s up to his feet again to mimic your stance, his arrogant grin showing that he’s not that irritated by how devious you could be, using your allure as his woman to take his attention away, if only for a little bit. “You look a little tired. Want me to go easy on you, babe?”

“Don’t you dare.”

Cheater, he’s a fucking cheater! Faster than you could comprehend, Naoya already has you pinned before him, your legs locked in place with how he’s shifting his weight onto your ankles. You hated it so much every time he used his technique against you, but then again, there weren’t any rules that stopped him from doing so.

“Well?” he prompts and leans down, hovering his lips right before your ear while you pant under him. “Aren’t you going to fight back? I didn’t invite you here to be boring with me.”

Stifling a laugh, you use your strength to push him off you, and you spar heartily with your husband who seems to be in a good mood, considering the rare influx of compliments leaving his otherwise harsh tongue. It’s no easy feat as he’s skilled even without using his techniques, and the both of you are breathless by the time you’ve delivered and handled the other’s blow by blows, your palms and muscles sore.

Your husband is in no better state.

He’s struggling to catch his breath, his legs bent and his arm drawn over his knee. Naoya chuckles under his breath when you drape your sweaty arms over his back, shameless and wanting as you tap his cheek to urge him in for a kiss.

Albeit grumbling he doesn’t really want to touch you when you’re covered in sweat, he kisses you anyway, smiling before he hitches you onto his lap that you’ve proudly claimed as your throne.

“Where’d you learn to fight like that?”

“Sometimes you forget I’m just like you, Naoya,” you rub your nose with his, foreheads pressed while you rock yourself over his groin. His eyes darken in warning, large hands coming up to knead your ass that you know he worships so much, though he makes no move to stop you, and really, he never would. “Just because I’m your precious little wife who would gladly serve you tea, doesn’t mean I won’t hesitate to hand your ass back to you.”

“Oh, will you, now?” he chuckles, “I’d like to see you try.”

“I already did.”

“Only because I let you,” Naoya mumbles on your lips, his once curious kneading now turning more intentional, more heated. “You’re funny if you think I’m letting you win against me.”

“So then why did you?”

“Because if I do, you’ll let me do this.” This refers to tearing your shirt apart, exposing your sports bra to him that is now clinging to your skin from the sweat, droplets of perspiration dripping from the tips of your hair and down to your flushed chest. Gasping from the torn material, you try to slap your husband’s destructive hands away.

“Naoya, that’s my favorite shirt!”

“Because you like the brand or you know because I go crazy every time you wear it?”

“Both, of course,” you scoff, and Naoya silences your protests by capturing your lips for another feverish kiss. A cheater, a huge, immature cheater he was – he knows so well that you get so weak every time he’s like this, and it really isn’t beyond him to exploit other’s weaknesses for his own enjoyment. And as much as you enjoyed this too, you don’t really want to fuck in a room that smells like sweat.

“Naoya,” pulling away from his sweet lips (which is a shame, really, you could’ve made out with him a lot longer), you ignored the throbbing he’d caused deep within your core. “My love, if you want to fuck me, you should take me back to the room.”

“You’re ordering me around now?”

“You will take me to the room,” you repeated firmly, dragging him down by the collar to force him to look at you. “Be mean all you want, but at the end of the day we both know you want to be buried inside me.”

“You’re not any better, wife,” he remarked, and he squeezes your sensitive breasts as if to prove a point. “At the end of the day, we both know you want me deep inside your tight cunt.”

“So then let’s help each other out.”

Ordering him around was one thing, but compromise? Naoya is a man capable of it, he just doesn’t like to show it because he doesn’t want people questioning his power. Your husband who is mostly anger and greed, his mind clouded by the need to always be better than others, shifts a little just for you as he carries you in his arms, your legs wrapping around his slender waist like second nature.

Naoya must’ve been so eager that you’re back in your room in a flash, with your back bouncing on the mattress and him stripping above you.

“No!” you insist and stop him, “Keep the shirt on. Please?”

“What the fuck for? It’s sweaty and sticky.”

“Exactly, and you look sexy like that.”

“Fucking filthy,” he scolds, but keeps the shirt on anyway and lets you roll it back to his waist. His pants, however, they need to be off. Your husband watches with unmasked interest as you push the band of his pants until you’re throwing it somewhere on the room. In return, you shimmy out of your yoga pants that are now uncomfortably pressed to your skin, discarding all forms of clothing that irritated you. Settling down on the bed, you spread your legs right beside his hips, but Naoya only smirks, groping your knee with a chuckle. “What, you think I wanna fuck you like this?”

“How else then?”

“Oh, come on,” he prompts, “You kept staring at my ass the whole time. I think it’s time I return the favor.”

Without another word, he flips you onto your stomach and grabs you by the waist, giving you no time to relax before your head is pushed back down on the pillows. Naoya’s warm cock is throbbing from your backside and he groans, delivering a harsh smack to the skin before it aches under his touch.

“Such a pretty fucking ass that’s begging to be fucked,” in time to his words, you wiggle your hips at him in a silent complaint to get moving already. Naoya simply grips down on your hips to keep you still, spanking you once more as a lesson. “Don’t fucking move.”

“Naoya, please, just fuck me already.”

“Needy little wife, begging to be ruined, huh?” Another smack.

Shutting your eyes tight, you fist the sheets under you as tears come to life. “Yes, ‘em so needy for you, Naoya, want your cock so bad, please-” Your pleading is cut off when he slides into you in one fluid motion, his deep groans resonating around the room once he’s seated comfortably. Mouth falling open at the pleasure of being stretched so open and shocked by the fact you’d already been so wet, you could barely register the pace he’s started.

Naoya keeps fucking deep into you, slapping your ass repeatedly and calling you his dirty little slut – mine and all mine only, he said. You’re left immobile and whining under him, all of your consciousness centered on the burning sensation between your legs.

Beneath you, Naoya’s hands travel to tug your bra downwards. The material remains stuck under your breasts and you moan around his rough, calloused hands that are expertly kneading your breasts. His pace quickens until his hips are roughly slapping against yours, grumbles and garbled moans mixing in with your little gasps of his name in a desperate plea to be brought to your orgasm.

You feel so raw, so dirty, so filthy like he said.

Sweat and arousal is coated on your skins and everything about this position feels so primal, even more so when he begins to rub at your clit just to push you over the edge. “Oh, fuck!” you grasped his bicep with one hand, the soreness of your muscles extreme.

“Yeah? You like that? You’re such a good fucking girl, taking my cock like a bitch in heat,” he spits in your ear with lust dripping from each word, and his words are enough to make you cum around him.

Walls clamping down on his cock, you hear Naoya grunt above you, his chest now pressed onto your back. You’re crying around him but he only goes faster, he’s so close and like the good wife you are, you help your husband by driving your body back to meet him thrust by thrust. Naoya’s chuckles are stuttered and half mixing in with moans when he runs a hand through his hair, those same hands following in gripping your cheeks to face him.

His kisses are sloppy and short-lived; you’re too busy moaning and he’s struggling to breathe with your pussy convulsing around him. “God, so fucking tight!”

“Hmm, come on, baby, come for me,” you encourage by rolling your hips around his cock, ignoring the fact the oversensitivity is making your legs turn to jelly and your arms are seconds away from giving out on you. But you hold strong, this is the duty of his wife, and you look past your shoulders as Naoya digs his nails into your hips to keep you still while he cums inside you.

“Oh, fuuuuckkk,” prolonged groans spill from his mouth the same way his own cum is released in spurts from your pussy lips.

Satisfied and extremely tired, you fall limp on the bed. Naoya dips two fingers to collect the mess you’ve made and you shudder, but then he lets go of you until your lower body is sliding back down on the bed, eyes droopy from that heated fucking. The minute sounds of sucking is enough to let you know your perverted husband is most likely feasting on your cum, but nothing prepares you for when he pushes them back inside your pussy.

“N-Naoya!” you exclaim and stare up at your husband, whose attention is zeroed in on your pussy lips hungrily encasing his fingers and cum. “What’re you doing?”

“You think that’s enough to get you pregnant?”

“What?”

“Don’t answer that,” he narrows his eyes and begins to pump his cock that is half hard again, the sight making anticipation and arousal throb all over you. You’ve seen that look on him before, and it’s the face he makes when he’s dead set on accomplishing something. “I’ll keep fucking you until I’m sure you can grant me an heir.”

In combat, you’ll most definitely spar with your husband without fear of losing, but having Naoya in bed when he’s determined on breeding you is a different thing.

This, without a doubt, is the one thing you can’t beat him on. And not that you wanted to, anyway, having him fuck a baby in you does sound nice.

Locking your eyes with your husband, you willingly spread your legs open for him again.

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sylverstorms · 3 years

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Cassandra x Maiden ----Anonymity Ch.7

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6

Cassandra gradually starts taking up more of your time. Or, more accurately, demands it like it’s her birthright.

Every day, you wake her up with a kiss to her shoulder or neck and a whisper of her name. She comes to you when she’s bored at random times during your shifts, to either talk –complain— about her sisters or to outright distract you. There are times at night when you’ll feel the chill of her slip into your bed and press up against your back, but she’s always gone by morning light, like a dream.

She used to be just another component to your nightmares. Now… she’s what takes them away.

And you’re afraid.

That you’re growing to like the time with her while she’s just playing around, that it will cut that much deeper when you find yourself on the end on her sickle. Because how else can it end, you reason, between the two of you?

The thought momentarily makes your liplock with Cassandra taste bitter, despite the sweet strawberry taste of her lip balm -and no way she’s putting that on for you, right?

She has you pressed deep into a plush armchair with her palm on your chest, while her thighs are locked tight on either side of yours. You want to tell her that you should stop –both because you’re literally in the open and anyone can walk in on you and because it’s late—but her lips are doing wicked things to your neck and you can’t find your voice long enough.

When Cassandra starts grinding down on you though, rather impatiently too, you have to speak up before she starts something neither of you can finish.

“Cassandra.” you say breathily. A sharp nip comes over your pulse, then slippery lips close around the area. “Ah! Cassandra. You’ll be late for dinner.”

She tsks and pulls back, expression much like a kid that got her hand slapped away from the cookie jar. She dismounts you with the same sour look, smoothing down her robes.

“Walk me there.” she orders.

You rise and fall into step beside her, trying not to linger on how strange it feels. It should be nothing, really, considering all the activities the two of you nightly indulge in, but it’s… something.

Cassandra, uncharacteristically quiet, keeps gazing out the windows as though calculating or pinpointing something while you make your way to the dining room.

She comes to a sudden halt just before you reach it, turns to you, steals a quick kiss and then quickly leaves you behind, a colder aura about her as she strolls inside.

You hear Lady Dimitrescu’s voice, but not what she says. Once a few minutes have passed and you can safely blend into the background, you join the other maids on standby within.

You used to hate it here. Having them all in front of you like that, serving them wine, when they’re all to blame for taking any semblance of normalcy out of your life. You never glance at what they’re eating. You still dislike dinner time.

But.

When Alcina makes a snide comment about Heisenberg and you hear Cassandra’s laugh above Daniela’s giggle and Bela’s chuckle…

It no longer seems so bad.

“Bela, stay a moment.” Cassandra says after Lady Dimitrescu leaves with Daniela in tow.

“Oh, no.” The blonde huffs under her hood.

“I didn’t say anything. Yet.” The younger sibling raises her hands in exasperation.

“When you go ‘Bela~’” You bite your lip to keep your expression neutral as you’re cleaning the table because hearing the normally stoic sister mimic Cassandra’s voice like that is just plain gold. “It’s never good.” her tone turns flat once more.

Cassandra very pointedly rolls her pretty eyes. “I need you to cover for me.”

“See?” Bela sighs. “Absolutely not.”

“Well, it wasn’t really a question, I was just trying to give you the illusion of choice.” Cassandra shrugs. “I’m going out tonight.”

“What?” Bela damn near hisses. “Have you lost your mind?”

“It’s fine it’s, like, thirteen degrees.”

“How is that fine?”

The elder sister’s gaze then flits to you. There is no other maid in the vicinity that can overhear them, but she’s clearly uncomfortable with you picking up the implications of their conversation.

You still don’t get it. You guessed their aversion to sunlight has to do with their mutations… but why would the cold be an issue?

The survivor in you wants to know more. To know if this is something that can be used to your advantage when the time and circumstances are right for a potential escape.

Another part of you… just plain worries.

“I know what I’m doing.” Cassandra says, stern.

“Then you’re doing it alone.” Bela turns to leave…

Except.

“Oh, well. Guess mother should know about that little maid you’ve been orbiting around, lately.” Cassandra comments. “The one you even did a favor for? Just imagine her disappointment in you, the shining example of the family, stooping so low.”

Bela’s back goes rod-straight. The piercing look she sends Cassandra sends ice down your spine. You think she’s going to pounce… yet she exhales.

“One. Hour.” Bela states. “If you’re not back in one hour I’m coming to drag your sorry behind to mother. And she—” A gloved finger points directly to you, “Won’t be coming back with you in one piece.”

Wait.

What?

You didn’t know Cassandra planned to take you with her. But she didn’t deny it when Bela pointed to you. After her sister left, all she said was: ‘Dress well.’

Which brings you to your current position, pacing by the entrance hall of the castle, in a warm coat and two layers of clothes underneath. You turn to look behind when you finally hear her steps descending the staircase.

And— you freeze.

Because Cassandra is not wearing her usual robes. She’s dressed in all black, yes, but the outfit is tight on her form, fitting every curve, hugging her wonderful legs like a second skin. She’s wearing knee-high boots instead of heels and her hooded, gothic overcoat reaches down to mid-thigh.

There’s not a single patch of her skin visible other than her face… and you can’t, for the life of you, explain why it’s that hot.

“You’re staring, plaything.” she chastises, yet doesn’t sound like she minds. Rather, she’s smirking.

“Uh—” you can’t really form words.

“We need to hurry, clock’s ticking.” she says as she jiggles the very key you’ve looked everywhere during work hours for. The key to freedom. To leaving the castle.

Cassandra double-checks her clothes before she opens the door. You file it as useful information for later as you hurry to catch up to her.

The path to the village –or what’s left of it— through the forest is… difficult. Mainly because Cassandra is entirely unbothered by any and all obstacles and moves like she’s on a walkway, leaving you to fight with every rock hidden in the snow.

You manage. Somehow.

Until a distant howl makes you jump and quite literally crash into her side.

Cassandra laughs. It’s a clear, beautiful sound in the dead of night. “My, my. Scared of a Lycan in my presence?”

“I thought it was just a regular wolf!” You whisper, mortified.

Yellow eyes blink at you. Then her gloved hand raises to yours, taking it in a secure grip. You didn’t realize you were shaking, yet the tremors quickly cease when she does that. It’s just your heart that still feels like it’s going to give out on you, but for an entirely different reason, now.

Cassandra safely leads you to the village. It looks more or less the same, except empty, void of life. You don’t linger on memories. You don’t.

“Show me your house.” she says.

You never thought you’d be tracing the steps of your front porch so soon. You only have to push the door for it to open. And the inside is just as you remembered. A quaint little house. It’s simply not… home, anymore.

Nothing is.

Maybe nothing ever was.

And the thought makes a thin, cracked wall inside you finally give. Cassandra is saying something a few paces behind you, but your vision has blurred, your eyes sting and hot, salty rivers roll past your lids.

“Are you listening to me?” she asks. “...Plaything?”

You can’t talk. If you do, you’ll sob and break to pieces on the floor like a pushed glass statue.

Cassandra’s grip is tight and demanding on your elbow when her fingers curl above it, but she turns you with gentleness you’d never think her capable of. You do not meet her eyes.

Her other hand comes up to your neck.

You can’t, you can’t—

“Alexia.”

Your eyes snap to hers when she says it, from the shock. You didn’t think she even knew your name. Cassandra shifts her weight from one leg to the other, then seems to decide on something and wipes the tears beading at your chin away with her thumb.

“Pack what you wish. We don’t have long.”

As you turn into your bedroom and open your wardrobe to pack a few clothes into a bag, just to feel a tad more yourself when you’re in your room in the castle, the sound of your name falling from her lips follows you.

Haunts you.

You have half a mind to get your mp3, phone and chargers before you return to her. Cassandra is holding whatever she wanted to get from the village in a box tucked between her arm and body.

“Come.” she orders. Her hand settles on your elbow again and practically drags you along.

You don’t talk on your way back to the castle.

From one of the many windows overlooking the front yard, you spot Bela’s eyes on the two of you until she retreats into the shadows. Rigidly, Cassandra enters and immediately goes by the large fireplace to warm up. You only then notice how much more fluid her movements get. Or rather, how sluggish she was during the trip.

You shut the door and turn the key and realize it’s much easier to handle your situation when you’re the one locking yourself inside.

You take off your coat and scarf, then make to head for your bedroom —according to your calculations you’ll only get 3 hours of sleep— until… you notice how cold Cassandra looks.

She’s one step away from hugging the flames. And you can still hear her call you by your name in your head.

Great. Another thing to keep me up at night. You think as you approach her.

Slowly, so as to not scare her, you slip your arms around her slim waist from behind. She’s like a block of ice in your embrace, at first. Her body thaws gradually, to the point she’s fully relaxed against you.

“Thank you for today.” the words don’t come easy –they’re like pulling teeth— but you manage to get them out clearly enough.

“You’ll thank me in very many ways, plaything.” she says. “Having your own belongings in the castle is not a privilege any maid gets. But.” her voice, although quiet, hardens the slightest amount. “If, despite my generosity, you harbor dreams of escape… I will turn them to nightmares.”

Your blood goes cold in your veins. You can only nod against her shoulder.

Cassandra turns in your arms to look at you.

“And if you ever try to leave me alone here… I will find you and kill you myself.”

#cassandra dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu x oc #resident evil village #bela dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #fanfiction #because i've read on spoilers of sadness and heartbreak and we all need something soft to take the pain away #cue our fav pillow princess being mega darling to her girl

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amphtaminedreams · 3 years

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Why Ethical Fashion Doesn’t Need to be Boring (In the Words of a Shopping Addict): Lookbook no.14

Hi to anyone reading,

Arghhhh.

I never know how to start posts when I literally just uploaded the other week because I tend to follow the very formulaic approach of summarising what I’ve missed due to sporadic posting…I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m still posting sporadically, it just so happens I’ve had more content to get up recently-sometimes lightning strikes twice, ya know, and I have a brief, if chemically fuelled, reprieve from the permanent state of exhaustion. It’s not like there isn’t stuff to talk about- the last month has seen a horrific murder and public outcry in response. There are a lot of important conversations going on about women’s safety and misogynistic violence that I really cannot do justice to in a paragraph and feelings that have been brewing for a long time that I can’t articulate yet and will not attempt to offhandedly do so in this post. Right now I just wanna say that I stand in solidarity with all those with histories of experiencing violence at the hands of men, those who aren’t here with us anymore as a result of that violence such as Sarah Everard, and those marginalised women whose stories don’t make national news. It’s very telling the way Sarah’s vigil was responded to by the same police force that have allowed mostly male anti-mask protests to go ahead with protestors unscathed, and solidarity with the women who were treated with such an unjustifiable amount of force at the vigil too.

That being said, women’s rights are something I wanted to talk about in this post, with regards to the way it ties into ethical fashion. None of us are perfect and it’s easy living in a first world country to detach yourself from the issues stemming from fast fashion, especially when you don’t have the time or money yourself to be selective about where you buy from. Don’t get me wrong, I do treat myself to some new clothes from fast fashion companies like ASOS and Urban Outfitters a few times a year so this is NOT coming from a place of preaching, but I have drastically reduced that to buying about 90% of my new clothes either second hand from Depop or charity shops or clothing stores that are upfront about their outsourcing practices. I love putting outfits together and updating my wardrobe and I don’t want to abandon that as a medium of self-expression because it does bring me joy, but to continue to update my wardrobe with the frequency I do by buying from fast fashion retailers on such a regular basis I accepted was going against the things I care about; around 80% of textile workers on poverty wages in developing countries are girls and women (opensocietyfoundations.org), and whilst fast fashion companies in the West continue to outsource manufacturing to said countries to cut costs and there is little regulation enforcing employers to pay women the same amount as men or even adhere to a minimum wage, they will continue to be forced into these roles where they are subjected to horrific working conditions, impossible production targets and frequent abuse (according to an article published in the Guardian in June 2018, 540 incidences of abuse, often of a sexual nature, were reported by women working in factories supplying the retailers GAP and H&M when they were interviewed on the subject). There is no denying that the fast fashion industry depends on and perpetuates the subjugation of women and systematically prevents them from making steps towards gender equality in their countries, be it through greater financial independence or the freedom to pursue higher education; the popular current practice by western fast fashion companies of outsourcing manufacturing to factories unhindered by workers rights and gender equality laws by association condones the sexual and physical violence that occurs as a means of punishment for not meeting targets, the exploitative pay which affords women little independence from husbands and families dominated by patriarchal values, and the long, exhausting hours which women have little choice but to take in order to avoid their contracts being terminated and to put food on the table. No, one individual completely abandoning fast fashion isn’t going to put an end to these unethical practices but if all of us make a conscious effort to reduce our consumption at least a little and make it clear why we’re doing so, we put greater pressure on fast fashion companies to act in a more responsible way. There isn’t going to be any kind of miraculous change of heart, so to force them to change we have to hit the industry and the people at the top who benefit from such practices where it really hurts: their profit.

SO, for this post I thought I would highlight some of my favourite more ethical online clothing companies to buy from; the more popular these more socially responsible brands become, the more apparent it becomes to fast fashion companies relying on an exploitative business model that how they treat their workers is of growing importance to consumers. It’s all very well and good Missguided and PLT talking about empowering women and making “girl boss” slogan tees but we need to make it clear that we’re aware of the hollowness of the gesture, and that we want less hypocritical talk and more action to actually enhance the lives of the women that work for them, not just the ones they show in their flashy offices on TV. I’ve included my favourite Depop shops too, because if you can shop second hand, that’s even better; though I like to treat myself to new clothes now and again, I’m aware that the impact the manufacturing process in general, whether or not the company acts in an ethical way with regards to their employment practices, has on the environment is more often than not detrimental. Depop has really been my saving grace this past year-if you know what you’re looking for and have the time and patience, you can find so many gems, and at this point the balance of my wardrobe is tipped firmly in the favour of the reuse and recycle approach to shopping. In the vein of reusing fashion, I thought I’d also include a mini lookbook for a cardigan I got from one of my favourite online retailers, The Ragged Priest, just as a reminder that 1). The best way to be sustainable is to rewear and 2). That with tweaks, one piece alone can give you multiple completely different outfits. Like honestly, outfit repeating doesn’t have to be a literal repeat. Sometimes it’s worth spending a little bit extra on something that looks good with everything, and making that investment into your ability to fool people that you’ve got your shit together by wearing something cool as fuck.

Quickly before I get into it, I’m aware that some ethical companies are a bit out of the average consumer’s price range, and so I wanted to sort them into price point categories which will work as follows:

£= most of their stock is £40 & under ££= most of their stock is between £40-£100 £££= most of their stock costs upwards of £100

Now, in no particular order (and starting with online retailers before moving onto Depop shops), here’s the list!

1. THE RAGGED PRIEST

PRICE POINT: ££

Using recycled fabric to construct their pieces where possible and releasing clothing in small drops designed to sell out rather than following the typical fast fashion model of outsourcing the production of vast amounts of clothing overseas, the Ragged Priest is my absolute favourite clothing brand out there. It’s *semi* affordable and because they are all about those bold, in your face, your-grandma-will-probs-think-it’s-ugly kinda pieces, just one can do SO much for your wardrobe.

I recently bought this cardigan from their The Simple Life drop and had so many outfit ideas for it that I thought I’d put a few of them together for this post just as an example of how you can take the same piece over and over again and still make it interesting, even when you don’t feel like straying too far from your personal style preferences. While we’re at it, I also wanted to use this mini lookbook to point out how fucking great Depop is! Literally everything in these outfits is from there apart from the shoes and the jewellery, the leather blazer on the right I bought a few years ago and then the top and skirt in the outfit from the far left which are both from Ebay. The shoes with that outfit are from Koi Vegan footwear-I didn’t include them in this list because I wanted to keep it consistent and focus on ethical clothing companies rather than retailers that focus on one specific thing such as shoes or jewellery, but they are my favourite place to buy shoes from and focus closely on ethical production too so definitely recommend.

2. MINGA LONDON

PRICE POINT: ££

Towards the lower end of the ££ price point, Minga is probably the closest you’re gonna get to an ethical version of the Dolls Kill Deliah’s range. Their focus on being a socially responsible business is a huge part of their ethos and their pieces are put together in Portugal, where they're based, by a small in-house team; the majority of their fabric is sourced from local Portuguese businesses and even more amazingly, they recycle the fabric of the pieces they don’t sell in new designs. They are just a generally amazing company and I wish more people knew about them because their pieces are fucking adorable and wouldn’t be out of place (or overpriced) in your local UO.

3. ELSIE & FRED

PRICE POINT: £

A small, black owned business set up by 3 siblings from Coventry, Elsie & Fred have earned themselves a reputation as a staple provider of the festival season wardrobe. Being an independently owned business, they have strict standards that their manufacturers must adhere to and a close working relationship with the owners of the two factories who oversee production in Guangzhou, China, to ensure fair wages and a safe working environment. On the environmental side of things, Elsie and Fred are working to incorporate recycled fabric into their designs as much as possible and have this year introduced compostable mailing bags.

4. HOUSE OF SUNNY

PRICE POINT: £££

Follow enough British instagram fashion influencers and you are bound to have heard of House of Sunny in 2020-snagging what is probably my all time favourite coat from there in 2019 before all the hype is a humble brag I will allow myself on the basis that I haven’t been able to afford anything since, lol. Along with kooky, one of a kind designs, being decidedly anti-fast fashion is a huge part of their branding; HoS only drop 2 collections of limited stock a year, thoroughly screen suppliers and on their website you can find a tonne of information on how they’re working to offset their environmental impact too. If you can treat yourself to a piece from there at any point, the quality of the garments truly make the price point worth it.

5. JADED LONDON

PRICE POINT: ££

Similarly to The Ragged Priest and House of Sunny, Jaded London go the route of dropping limited collections on a less frequent basis intending to sell out (particularly popular pieces are occasionally restocked) rather than needlessly manufacturing vast quantities of garments to flog for whatever they can get and cutting corners with fair employment practices to offset any losses. By employing independent staff in the manufacturing plants with which they liaise to ensure fair, dignified working conditions and also by working closely with charities such as the Trussel Trust and Stand Up to Racism, Jaded London demonstrates a level of commitment to corporate responsibility that set them apart from a lot of similar online retailers. They are at the top of their game when it comes to daring and experimental yet wearable pieces and so it’s cool that they recognise the need to conduct their business in a considerate way too.

6. THE HIPPIE SHAKE

PRICE POINT: ££

Owned by UK based bohemian queen Naomi Hession, the Hippie Shake is not only a great small independent business to support but is also the definition of slow fashion. With a limited number of opulent 70s style pieces, I have always wanted to purchase something from here. I’ve yet to do so but I’m gonna make it my mission eventually.

7. VINTAGE HEARTS

PRICE POINT: £

An affordable, gorgeous array of quirky handpicked vintage pieces that would probably take you forever to find in a charity shop or that you’d be charged a small fortune for if you found it in a high street second hand store, Vintage Hearts is where you should go if you want a timeless statement piece that may have otherwise ended up in a landfill. The added benefit of vintage clothing is that it is, by its nature, great for the environment, but you can also look fab and groovy as fuck as you do your bit for the planet<3

8. WE ARE COW

PRICE POINT: £

Offering both original vintage pieces and reworked pieces using recycled fabrics, We Are Cow has both basic branded second hand items but also handmade streetwear style original designs all for a fair price. You can tell that it’s all high quality stuff consistent with their modern, functional aesthetic and it’s clear that the team behind the shop has a real vision in mind when they’re designing.

9. OUT OF THE ORDINARY CLOTHING

PRICE POINT: £

In the words of Corrie Davis, founder of OOTO "I start with the belief that fashion will be always be worn differently by the individual that wears it. Every collection from Out of the Ordinary is different to the last but undeniably Out of the Ordinary. I champion flamboyancy and embrace the cultures I've experienced around the world, merging the two and creating popular style trends in exciting textiles, prints and techniques to bring to you something a little Out of the Ordinary." That pretty much sums up the vibrancy, vivacity and bold elegance of the brand’s aesthetic perfectly, which is reflected by Davis’ commitment to ethical manufacturing based on relationships forged between the founders and family artisans and the sourcing of fabrics from textile markets around the world. Everything you need for a boujie summer holiday in the Mediterranean-when leaving the country is finally allowed again, lol, EVERYBODY GET YOUR FUCKING VACCINE-is here.

10. WILD THING

PRICE POINT: ranges from £-£££ depending on the brand

Probs the closest thing you’ll get to an ethical ASOS, Wild Thing brings together a host of sustainable and independent clothing brands and puts them all in one place to present to us all a collection of the sickest festival style fashion out there. Whilst it’s super cool that this already exists and a slice of humble pie for myself to remind me that I am not in fact the revolutionary marketing genius I thought I was, I’m bummed to know that my idea of said ethical ASOS style website is already out there. Fingers crossed for the next grand money making scheme that comes to mind that I can use to distribute some wealth (yeah, there probably won’t be any because very few original thoughts enter my head, clearly, tehe) xoxo

11. SHOPFLUFFY

PRICE POINT: ££

I know it’s 2021 and we all kind hate the idea of girl boss feminism and the connotations of privilege and exploitation that come with it but can we bring it back when we’re talking about women who embody what it was actually all supposed to be about? Because the owner of ShopFluffy, @lulutrixabelle embodies everything good about the term. Somebody who genuinely does (cue Ramona singer voice here) empower other women through her celebration of powerful female friendship and free spirited sense of personal style that should inspire every one of us to wear whatever the fuck we want (clashing patterns and over-accessorising be damned), Lulu handmakes all the designs on her site and very much places an emphasis on slow fashion by releasing only a few collections a year which you can clearly tell a lot of painstaking effort and talent went into. ShopFluffy is on the pricier side but the adorable crocheted coords LuLu specialises in, reminiscent of carefree childhood days and picnics in meadows picturesque enough to be the backdrop of a Jacquemus runway presentation, are a bold and beautiful expression of playful femininity worthy of departing with a bit more than you’d usually spend. After all, if you are gonna spend that money on a piece of clothing, supporting an ethical, independent woman owned business clearly built on carefully honed skill, passion and authenticity is the way to go.

12. SHOPEASYTIGER

PRICE POINT: ££

It feels correct to follow up the ShopFluffy mention with ShopEasyTiger given the friendship between the former’s owner with Tigerlilly Winfield (is that not the most wonderfully storybook character sounding name of all time?), owner of Easy Tiger. Up there with my most revered style icons, Tigerlilly’s designs are as flamboyant and glamorous and daring and dramatic as her own personal style, and again, they are ethically made! If you want to get that psychedelic rock n’roll groupie that’s actually way cooler than the band itself kinda energy too, her shop is the place to start.

13. HOTTTRAMP

PRICE POINT: ££

Founded by the incredibly hot Belle_hott_tramp on Instagram, HottTramp is a collection of both handmade pieces and carefully selected vintage finds that blur the lines between 90s Courtney Love style grunge and 70s summer of love hippy that make me want to start my own all girl rock band and hire a camper van to paint black and road trip through the American desert. Given my complete lack of hand eye coordination, I’ll most likely never have the instrumental skills to do that but I never said it was a realistic fantasy, okay?

14. LAZY OAF

PRICE POINT: ££

Is it just me that always thought Lazy Oaf was within the same kind of price range as The Ragged Priest? Because it’s a lottt more expensive than I thought. That being said, if you’re going for a playful, toned down Molly Goddard kinda look, anything bright and youthful, Lazy Oaf’s clothes 100% fit that brief. You are paying more, but part of that markup is reflected in their transparency when it comes to their ethical code, which includes ensuring that statutory minimum wage laws are adhered to in the supply chain as well as that all workers are of the legal working age for their countries and that their working hours do not exceed the legal limit. They are also steadfastly committed to donating a portion of their profits to charities dedicated to improving mental wellbeing such as Mind, Rethink Mental Illness, and Young Minds, something that is hugely important to me given my own experiences and the line of work I want to go into.

15. NEVER FULLY DRESSED

PRICE POINT: ££

Similar in their aesthetic to Out of the Ordinary, Never Fully Dressed is big on colour, print, and elegance. They have both specially selected second hand pieces on offer and original designs too and the about us section of their website clearly states how passionate they are about their ethical manufacturing process, which takes place both here in the UK and in China.

16. TUNNEL VISION

PRICE POINT: ££

Offering the dreamiest, one of a kind vintage 90s pieces, Tunnel Vision could just as easily be a grunge girl band come the craft themed moodboard as it is an online retailer. If the 90s isn’t for you-I mean, I don’t wanna question anybody’s taste levels but…-they also have the option of shopping by era, which I think is a really cool feature I wish a lot of irl vintage shops would incorporate.

17. LOVE TOO TRUE

PRICE POINT: £

Everything on Love Too True is fucking gorgeousss and it is no surprise that they manufacture their garments here in London because I feel their brand totally encompasses that stereotypical 90s East End punk vibe perfectly with a shit tonne of chunky boots and show stopping plaid pieces that makes my heart ache for a riot grrrl renaissance. Yes, when it comes to feminism’s place in mainstream culture, making sure the political goals and structural changes we’re aiming for are visible to all is by far the most important, but let’s have a resurgence of the grunge girl’s armour along with that and PLEASE let’s leave athleisure in the 2010s. No more Kardashian nude leggings, I beg (I AM being lighthearted, wear whatever you want! We’re not policing women’s clothes in this neck of the woods).

18. NINE LIVES BAZAAR

PRICE POINT: £££

Eurgh. Nine Lives Bazaar. I want it ALL. Their clothes give me all the Etro, Zimmerman, Torey Burch, modernised Stevie Nicks vibes on a slightly more realistic budget, though unfortunately for me said budget just isn’t realistic enough. You would think pieces being ethically produced is just a given when it comes to clothes within this price range but that’s not necessarily the case and Nine Lives Bazaar is one of the ones you can trust to actually be considerate of their employees needs when it comes to their approach to business. To anybody who can afford to shop here, I am insanely jealous. The rest of us, for now, can just browse the website n feel the fantasy, channel a Valentina level of delusion and pretend it’s just the import taxes from Australia that’s holding us back from making a purchase.

-DEPOP SHOPS-

1. @HOUSE_OF_EROTIQUE

PRICE POINT: ££

Everything handmade and latex and form fitting to make you the baddest bitch in the room, I’ve got myself a few pieces from this shop over the past couple of years. Customer service is a bit hit or miss and there’s been times when I’ve had to wait a while for my purchases to get to me but because they’re all one of a kind and custom made to fit, it’s worth it, and when they have messed up they were kind enough to add something to my order for free.

2. @SACREDHAWK

PRICE POINT: ££

If you picture raiding the wardrobe of a biker gang, snatching the Coachella bound suitcases of the Revolve ambassadors at Palm Springs airport, and then jumbling all those clothes together, that’s probably your best bet at getting an idea of Sacred Hawk’s aesthetic. Formerly an ASOS concession, the brand is now available on Depop and is a collection of the most lavish glam grunge pieces, all vintage or reworked vintage. Some things are a bit on the pricey side but I would say they are all priced fairly considering how unique and ornate a lot of the pieces are, and I reeeeally wanna be able to say I own something from there one day.

3. @IDENTITYPARTY

PRICE POINT: £££

I struggled with how to categorise this Depop shop in terms of price point because although there are some fairly low-priced pieces, the standouts are the vintage coats which are understandably a lot more expensive-if you want to fully immerse yourself in the Almost Famous Penny Lane fantasy, you’re gonna have to fork out a little bit.

4. @RETRO_RAIL

PRICE POINT: £££

Retro_rail is of a similar vein to IdentityParty, in that the standout pieces are the vintage coats which are usually upwards of £100-if you’re looking for one-of-a-kind statement outerwear to invest in, I can’t recommend this shop enough. If you’re like me and you’re looking for something more within the £ to ££ price range, Retro Rail is still worth a browse as inspiration for the kind of styles you might wanna try and find elsewhere on Depop.

5. @5THSEASON

PRICE POINT: £

Most of the quirky vintage pieces you’ll find on offer on this Depop shop are within the £25 to £40 price range and though you’ve got coats similar to those you’ll find on Identity Party and Retro Rail and they are sill slightly more than the tops and trousers and dresses on sale etc., they are more modestly priced than the other 2 listed.

6. @DREAMERSREBELS

PRICE POINT: £££

Another v pricey one, dreamersrebels specialises in the daintiest, most whimsical 60s style co-ords I’ve ever seen. Handmade upon purchase, which in turn guarantees little textile waste, you can find the kind of pieces you’d expect to see on a 21st century incarnation of Audrey Hepburn, all the soft pastels and timeless, retro silhouettes you could possibly wish for. I mean, wishing is pretty much all I can do rn but anyone with a near minimum wage retail job knows you need something to aspire to, lol. I managed to budget enough to treat myself to a Selkie dress so I’m manifesting that same level of self-discipline to get me a dreamersrebels piece next.

7. @AWKWARDPHASE

PRICE POINT: £

Very affordable vintage pieces that range from cutesy mid-century style dresses and coats to grungy 90s jackets, perfectly styled and presented too in a way that will have you wanting to order something for yourself to replicate that modern spin on old staples and give them a second life.

8. @EVIEHALLOWS

PRICE POINT: £

Another Depop shop where the clothes are styled so well, it’ll have you thinking you can make anything from a floral 1950s housewife style cardigan to a lycra jumpsuit look very intentionally on trend.

9. @JAHOOLI

PRICE POINT: £

There’s also Jahooli, which I will just say ticks all the same boxes as the other two aforementioned stores to avoid repeating myself.

10. @LOVELYANDLOVELESS

PRICE POINT: £

In terms of price, I would put Lovely and Loveless into the same category as Jahooli, Awkward Phase and Evie Hallows, the difference being that the clothes available are more on the dainty, classically feminine side. People who have a Pinterest board dedicated to the cottagecore or light academia aesthetic (whew, the gen Z is showing), this one’s for you.

11. @CHLOESTJOHN

PRICE POINT: £

Finally, we have the ChloeStJohn Depop shop and it’s definitely a good one to end on; picture the wardrobe of Carrie Bradshaw if she’d lived in Camden instead of New York in the 90s and hung out with a slightly edgier crew than Charlotte, Miranda and Samantha and there you have it, the vibe of the pieces on offer. Does it belong to a girl who probs lives near Primrose Hill and has access to all the boujiest second hand clothes shops available which she most likely routinely raids to resell on Depop? Potentially, but hopefully not because I am very here for this whole red wine in one hand and a cigarette in another back when people were allowed to smoke inside bars aesthetic. I’m sorry that the gen Z part of me once again jumped out in such an aggressive fashion with that last sentence, but I know you know what I mean.

And that’s everything!

I did wanna close off the post with a reminder of how nuanced a discussion this is-having the time and money to be more conscious about your ethical footprint when you’re buying clothes is in itself a privilege; fashion shouldn’t be an interest reserved for only those who have the means to pay extra or spend time scouring the internet. It’s also important to be aware of the lack of size inclusivity-a lot of the “trendy” sustainable fashion brands tend to not stock anything larger than a size 14 and attempt to deflect attention away from this by categorising clothes as either XS, S, M, or L, which is in itself a bit of a pisstake considering that 12-14 is the average clothing size here for women in the UK, and so in no way large. Shopping from Depop and Ebay is hard too when so many brands fail to understand how to fit a non-straight size body which in turn necessitates trying stuff on before you buy it, something that isn’t possible when you’re shopping second hand. A lot of Depop shops fail to offer returns and even with those who do, chasing up that return can be a time-consuming and generally all round frustrating process.

Basically, when we’re having these kinds of discussions it’s important to consider everyone’s situations and avoid sitting on some kind of high horse. I feel like things have become even more complicated lately- with the recent closure of once popular high street stores such as Topshop and Miss Selfridge, it has got me thinking a lot about just how many people’s income here in the UK is dependent on fast fashion retailers too and their popularity. The job scarcity resulting from these kind of closures, which are often all that is available to a lot of people with the demands of the job market seemingly becoming more and more impossible each day even for those who have been in higher education, is clearly an issue when the kind of support you can expect from the government as someone out of work is so woefully inadequate and likely to become even more so as the conservatives push for further cuts to UC and PIP. The past year has really shown us just how shaky the ground that an intensely capitalist society stands on is and how quickly everything can go tits up when we don’t invest in a safety net for those who are struggling. People seem to have realised more than ever the extent to which those whose jobs we deem “low-skilled” are actually the backbone of society, and yet even here, whilst the situation may not be quite as desperate as it is elsewhere, we still haven’t seen pay rises that reflect that. Turns out all the clapping WAS an empty gesture, who’d have thought it (for fuck’s sake)? Fair wages really are a global issue that starts with paying people enough for them to comfortably live on and in time should lead to a shift in consciousness away from the concept of profit before everything else and towards an equal playing field for everyone, something we should take every opportunity to speak up about and demand from our “leaders”, however shit a job so many of those leaders do. It’s frustrating how the focus on making ethical purchasing choices is so often on the overconsumption of things that women historically are more actively interested in such as clothes and accessories and make up when the reality is that the wealth of every industry titan on this planet, NOT just the ones who dominate the fast fashion sphere, depends on them continuing to get away with exploiting people-we should be looking at how we can show our dissatisfaction in all areas. Maybe I’m perpetuating that with this post, since a lot of the online retailers I mentioned only sell women’s clothing, but that being said, I’m not about to do men’s work for them, lol-they should make the effort, if possible, to research into sustainable clothing alternatives too.

Anyway, that’s the end of this post! If you read to the end, thank you so much! If I’ve made any errors in my research or there are more sustainable clothing brands that I could’ve mentioned, feel free to inbox me them too, and I can add them to this post if Tumblr allows. It’s usually a little bitch when it comes to editing long posts but I’ll try my best:) Again, thanks for reading! And if you are, I hope you are safe and well!

Lauren x

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ssavanessa22 · 3 years

Text

BMO

BMO part 2

Parring: Spencer Reid x black fem reader!

Warnings: none I think but I if I missed something pls tell me!

Spencer and and the team have a family dinner at Rossi’s, Tara has invited her younger sister, and the team soon discover that boy wonder and Dr y/n Lewis have a lot in common

"Tara I promise you I'm not gonna be late I'm only a few minutes away I'll be there soon"

"Okay y/n you better be or your going to be the one to wake all this dishes at Rossi's"

"Yeah I'm not doing that I'll be there any second now"

Tara had decided to invite me to one of Rossi's infamous dinner parties, Tara and I haven't seen each other for 9 months since hat may not seem like a lot but we are extremely close so to us it feels like life time. She had already told me about her team numerous time but tonight my anxiety was running high these are the people excluding dad and I that she considers family and I don't want to make a fool of myself. Tara told me that the dress code was fancy extremely fancy and I don't have that kind of wardrobe so I had to buy a dress before I left for D.C.

For the evening I was wearing a strapless floor length blue gown gown. I paired this dress with black Stilettos.For my hair I decided to keep it my butterfly locs in that were black and long and fell to my mid back

Spencer POV

Tara had describe her younger sister as the life of the party always outgoing funny but nothing really else she only said that her and I would definitely get along, I mean I'm not really looking to get with someone right now but it would be nice to be friends with someone the same age as me and outside of the team.

Y/N’s POV

My cab had dropped me of right outside Rossi's house and I was awe of his house, really it was a mansion it was modern but still had a touch of character. I paid my fair and hot out the cab with my off the shoulder bag I walked up the stairs a gently knocked of the door. Tara opened the door instantly calming me bringing my heart rate down. Grabbing a hold of her pulling her into a big hug.

"Hey sis ugh I missed you so much how are you how is doug?"

"Awww Y/n I missed you so much and uhhh me and doug aren't together anymore"

"Wait I'm sorry but how much did I missed you guys broke up"

"Yeah you've missed a lot but don't worry I'll will catch you up love, come in meet then team you look gorgeous by the way"

"Thank you ta-" was cut of by an eccentric women dressed in a colourful outfit squealing and taking me into a bear hug.

"Oh you must be Y/n, Tara's younger sister I'm Penelope Garcia it's so nice to meet you and you are so pretty your skin your hair! Omg your hair Tara why have you never gotten braids before?"

I was taken aback but so intrigued she seems like such a fun and outgoing person definitely someone I would love to be friends with. Replying for Tara I said.

"Oh Tara's never really been with the whole braids thing even when when we were younger she's always been more into wigs."

A women with piercing black hair and beautiful eyelashes who I can only assume was Emily standing in the foyer with the rest of the team questioned.

"Wait I'm sorry but Tara that's not your real hair?"

I turned to look and Tara who then looked back at me whilst we both turned to the only other black person in the room who I assume is Derek morgen by the description Tara gave me of her co workers. All three of us proceeded to look at each other then back at Emily after a brief moment of silence Derek and I burst into laughter. Tara interrupted our laughter, "why don't we introduce you to the rest of the team instead of revealing my hair secrets of mmh?" I walked with Tara to go meet Hotch and Rossi whilst I turned to Garcia giving me a cheeky grin and mouthing Your in big trouble.

I said hi to Hotch and Rossi thanking him for inviting me into his beautiful home I was then lead to JJ and Derek greeting them.

"Hi it's really nice to meet you guys" I waved at them and they both gave me a confused looked.

"Oh I don't shake hands to many germs it's actually safer to kiss then to shake hands with someone" they both looked at me stunned then looked to the mystery man talking to Penelope and Emily.

"Not that I don't want to shake your hand I do it's just not my thing... sorry I ramble a lot when I get nervous."

"No it's okay you just remind us of someone that's all" Derek said whilst smirking with JJ.

"Dinners ready let's all meet at the garden" Rossi announced.

I Weaved my arm through Tara's as well began walking to the garden. "So Dr.Lewis how are you finding Washington" Penelope asked me

"Oh it's really nice I'm enjoying the city right now and I'm excited to be with Tara for the next few months"

Spencer's POV

"Wait did you say Dr.Lewis"

"Yeah Spence, y/n is a Dr" JJ said

"Oh so you guys looked me up? I mean I dont mind I could have just told you guys" Y/n said giggling

"Yeah I looked you up, anyone on the teams family is my family" Garcia said matching her giggle.

"Yeah I have a phd in psychology maths and physics, and a bachelors in criminology" Y/n replied weakly.

"Oh come on y/n/n tell him then the rest come on!" Tara said encouraging her sister to speak

"And I have an IQ of 190 and an eidetic memory"

"And y/n?” Tara said encouraging her once more.

"And I can read 25,000 words per minute, but they don't want to here about this boring stuff Tara."

"We do want to hear about this what if someone was like you?" Derek said

By this point we had gotten to the garden and were sitting at the table I was visibly staring at Y/n but I didn't care she was beautiful and her brain was to, she was like me no she was smarter and I wanted so badly to get to know her. As she sat down in between Tara and I she jokingly said.

"if I meet a guy with an IQ and eidetic memory like mine, a Doctor, with a nice personality and was cute like extremely attractive I would date him in a heartbeat but those types of guys don't exist"

I don't know what came over me but I had to reply y/n was talking about me I'm her dream man and she didn't even know it. Tara only said she and I would get along but I didn't know this well she's like the denial version of me but better, her skin glowed under the fairy lights that hung around Rossi's garden making her look angelic. Her dress accentuated every curve and dip on her body her cleavage ever so slightly protruding out of her dress but her body wasn't what intrigued me it was her her mind her personality I haven't even had a conversation with her but I already want to get to know her. So I downed my glass of liquid courage turned to her and I was about to describe Derek butted in and said.

Y/N’s POV

"I think Y/n over here just describe pretty boy"

"I described who"

I turned to Tara slaking her what Derek meant but she wouldn't look in my direction.

"Uhh I think what there trying to say is that you describing me Y/n I have and IQ of 187 I also have an eidetic memory and 3 PHD's but I mean I don't know if I'm-"

"You are attractive...if that's what you were going to ask"

I didn't even know the name of the man who spoke I think it might be Spencer but i didn't care because this was the most attractive man I had ever seen in my life

—

#wattpad #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #criminal minds #fanfic #Spencer Reid x black reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x y/n #oc x canon #tara lewis #ari lennox #spencer walter reid #lovecore

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mythicamagic · 3 years

Note

"You couldn't handle me even if I came with instructions."

Okay, curiosity got the better of me, and even though there are so many good prompts to choose, I settled with this one. There is no telling which way it will go, but it sounds amusing! Have fun! ^_^

Decided to do something different with this involving mind reading, hope you like.

----

Becoming privy to Sesshoumaru's thoughts happened about as unexpectedly as one would think. Having returned from the future after three years, Kagome had figured the amount of weirdness in her life would scale back a bit. The jewel was gone, and everyone was enjoying their 'happily ever afters' so surely she could finally gain some semblance of normalcy in the past, right?

'Irritating…'

Kagome shifted, sneaking a glance at the Daiyoukai as he sat at the base of a tree. His voice resounded inside her mind, seemingly without his knowledge or consent. He was eyeing something flitting about mid-air. A fly, she suspected.

Golden eyes shifted, slit pupils keen. A hand blurred, catching the thing between forefinger and thumb.

'Die.'

Green light shone out from between his fingers, successfully killing his 'prey.'

Kagome supposed it was somewhat comforting to know that his thoughts were about the same as whatever words he deigned to speak aloud. The psychic ability she'd gained only applied to Sesshoumaru, and had happened one random day when she'd been fighting a demon.

Between one moment and the next- a presence had warmed her side as he'd deflected an attack meant for her. This had resulted in sharp, static red youki swallowing their forms briefly- Sesshoumaru's energy rushing through her system. It had stolen Kagome's breath and sent her heart thundering.

A second later, she'd started hearing his thoughts. Most startling of all, they'd begun with something completely unexpected;

'I will keep you safe, foolish miko.'

Biting her lip, Kagome snuck another glance at him- only to find Sesshoumaru gazing back. Squeaking, she focused on her forgotten work, roughly weaving a basket with a little more force than necessary.

"Are you alright, Kagome?" Sango asked, sitting beside her on the grassy hill as they prepared a few herbs and useful things for Kaede.

"Fine! Totally f-"

'Her scent is erratic, yet the woman continues to sneak glances at me. How odd. Is she becoming interested in this one? It is long overdue.'

"What?" Kagome questioned out loud, feeling Sango’s perplexed stare. The heat of another pair of eyes warmed the nape of her neck.

'Hn, I have not sensed her pine for the Half Breed in many months after their breakup. It is possible she is looking for another male. The miko is not promiscuous enough to trifle with me. She requires...a lasting bond.'

Biting her lip, Kagome's eyes burned with want to look at him again.

'Could I keep a miko? She is not like others. They usually despise my kind- and I do not care for them. But this bratty, fiery woman has proven herself through her dealings with the Jewel and the Spider. Mn...the thought of having her should not stir my blood so,' he sighed in her mind. 'Perhaps once I accept my interest in her, the vivid fantasies will stop.'

What fantasies? she wondered.

Kagome really should not have asked, because somehow a lewd mental image of herself was projected from his head directly into her gawking brain.

Standing quickly, skirts swaying about her thighs- Kagome forced a smile. "I-I forgot to do something earlier! Sorry Sango, I'll finish up with you later."

Hurrying down the hill, she stiffened upon hearing a silky voice trail after her inside her mind.

'Why is she leaving? This is unacceptable. She takes her mouth-watering scent with her,' he seemed to pause contemplatively. 'Must your retreating form be so pleasing to the eye, Kagome?'

Kagome flushed red, feeling the urge to cover her ass while running from the unexpected thoughts. However, she kept her hands at her side- a weird thrill of excitement racing down her spine.

Like a radio broadcast sounding out from a speaker- the further she ran, the dimmer his velvety voice became.

---

Emerging from Kaede's hut a few days later, Kagome fussed with her new clothing. Miko robes felt somewhat uncomfortable, but Kaede had insisted she at least try getting used to wearing them for a few days.

She honestly couldn't imagine walking around in such garments as a permanent uniform. They reminded her too much of someone else.

'No.'

Kagome jerked, freezing in place and pretending to fiddle with her collar, trying to secretly glance around for the elusive Daiyouaki.

'...Those robes do not suit her. What's more- her light scent is muddied with unnecessary feelings. Those clothes make you self-conscious, do they not, miko? Take them off.'

Blinking, Kagome's heart warmed slightly inside her chest. He could read her so easily? He...cared about how she felt?

"And those pants cover her long legs. Disgusting. You are the one who forced me into appreciating a woman's thighs, miko. Bare them to me again.'

Hissing a short breath through her teeth, Kagome whipped her head to one side- spying Sesshoumaru lingering by a hut about 40 yards away. He stiffened, blatantly surprised she'd pinpointed his location so easily.

'Could she sense me?'

Blushing, Kagome cleared her throat and gave a slight wave, before disappearing back inside the hut. She wanted to test something, and the fluttering inside her lower stomach was getting too prominent to ignore.

---

Stepping out after a quick wardrobe change, Kagome pretended not to notice him again, fiddling with her cute modern outfit. She felt more at ease in her home wear, and the voice in her head seemed to agree.

'That is much better…' Sesshoumaru's tone slid into that of curiosity. 'You feel mischievous, miko? Now why is that? I sense your fluttering excitement.'

Raised her arms above her head nonchalantly, Kagome arched her back as she stretched.

'What…?' the thinness of his tone almost made her grin ferally. 'What...are those?'

Kagome had never intended to wear them. In fact, she'd stuffed them deep inside the depths of her backpack because Yuka, Eri and Ayumi had taken it upon themselves to buy her something 'sexy' for her bad boyfriend and Souta had innocently walked into her room one day while she was packing. She hadn't had the heart to tell her friends she'd broken up with Inuyasha a long while ago.

She had no need for black lacy thigh highs, complete with suspender garter belts resting enticingly on her thighs. Or at least, she hadn't until today. Kagome stretched with a little more exaggeration, letting out a breathy sigh as her pleated skirt hitched up, exposing more of her toned legs to his gaze.

A terribly loud noise deafened her hearing like a clap of rumbling thunder, heralding a storm. Kagome realised a little belatedly that it hadn't been contained to the privacy of Sesshoumaru's mind- the growl rippling through the space between them.

He stood much closer than expected, golden eyes pinning her in place.

"Oh- hi there, Sesshoumaru," Kagome hid her surprise behind a smile. "Something wrong?"

The Daiyoukai's burning, orange eyes searched her face. Slowly, they dimmed back into gold, as he realised there was nothing appropriate he could say.

'Do you know what you are doing, little minx? Or are you completely unaware of how badly I desire those thighs wrapped around my waist?'

"Nothing," he said out loud, face completely devoid of expression.

Kagome arched a brow. He had a damn good poker face.

"Well...okay," she lifted a shoulder, taking a few steps away. "But you know, if something was bothering you, it would be better all round to just tell me. I'm not a mind reader."

Mild intrigue flickered. "I do not think you would appreciate knowing my innermost thoughts."

"Try me."

Sesshoumaru's lips curved, his blank expression cracking into something more honest and imperfect. Human, almost, in its raw appetite- the demon circling around her slowly like a predator. "The dark hungering of an inuyoukai is not something that pure and pretty miko's could stomach," he uttered.

Kagome took a breath, keeping to her bravado. Because if she didn't keep her courage, the thoughts she'd heard so clearly inside her mind would remain exactly that- formless. Never touching reality.

And that felt like a shame.

"Maybe not all of them could, but I've journeyed across Japan with a perverted con-artist and been kidnapped by dark and terrible demons much bigger than you," she hummed, keeping eye contact. "And I'm not promiscuous or anything, but I'm not a prude either. Given the right person, even I can get a little...hungry."

She heard a sharp in-take of breath. Sesshoumaru stopped, lingering in close proximity as his voice dropped into something downright sinful. "How surprising."

Kagome lifted a shoulder. "Not really, but judging by your hesitancy to share anything on your mind- maybe my 'dark hungering' would be too much for you."

Golden eyes flashed. "Preposterous."

"No, no- I think it's true," she gave an impish smile. "You couldn't handle me even if I came with instructions."

This seemed to snap his carefully constructed facade of control. Sesshoumaru's claws snapped out, fingers trembling as they gripped her hair. A fierce breeze lashed around them as Kagome realised he'd collected white energy around their forms- speeding them out of sight into the lush forest. Away from the safety of witnesses. None could save her now.

Sesshoumaru bore down over her, neck craned, mouth hovering close. It was sharp teeth that brushed her parted lips first.

'I will have you- strange, enticing, annoying woman.'

Kagome shuddered, blue eyes darkened as her thighs rubbed together. Her hands met silken robes, gliding up into silky hair as his arm swooped down, hooking beneath her knees.

While their lips crashed together and Sesshoumaru held her aloft- Kagome smiled and wordlessly obliged by wrapping her thighs around his lean waist, giggling as the taciturn demon inwardly purred.

#Sesshoumaru x Kagome #Sesskag #asks

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writerpeach · 4 years

Text

Shutter

Fromis_9 Saerom x Male Reader

5223 words

Categories: smut, oral, model! saerom

---

Read on AFF

Read on AO3

It’s not every day that a model walked into your studio who by every definition of the word, was perfect.

Dozens of gorgeous women came by each and every week, each one more beautiful than the last and you couldn’t ask for a better job.

The elevator doors opened and the woman scheduled for your afternoon appointment stepped inside your studio on the ninth floor, and you had never seen such an attractive woman with such stunning features.

Calling her gorgeous would almost be an insult. Words could not and would not do her beauty justice, or would be enough to describe how attractive she was.

She had dark shoulder-length hair and walked with confidence in an elegant looking black and grey dress and her sexy aura filled the studio.

“Hello, I’m Saerom!” she shyly introduced herself, a small smile on her rosy red lips and you melted just by hearing her voice.

“Nice to meet you, Saerom,” you replied.

“Please take care of me,” she said and bowed politely. Her hair and makeup styled perfectly, nothing looked out of place and the smile on her face only made her look even more beautiful.

“Shall we get started, Miss Saerom?”

Saerom nodded and you directed her to the set as you still had a few things to set up beforehand. She stood against the white backdrop, eyes roaming the bright lights and other equipment spewed everywhere, tripods and lights all ensuring that each model looked as best as you could make them look.

You readied your camera and glanced at Saerom, realizing how busty she was and what a curvy deadly body her dress showed off.

“Ready when you are,” you said as you removed your lens cap, giving one final check to all your equipment hoping to somehow do justice to the actual goddess standing in front of you.

Saerom flashed her best smile as you pressed the camera shutter and took the first shot of the shoot, capturing her beauty as best as possible. Her side profile was perfect, her features flawless in a way that they had been sculpted by the gods. Her striking jawline, her cute nose, her perfectly formed lips. The ideal woman put together as if to say it won’t get better than this.

Your finger moved faster than a cheetah hunting a prey, taking hundreds of shots per minute as Saerom displayed a variety of poses and facial expressions, each one perfect in their own way.

“How am I doing?” she asked.

“You’re doing amazing. The camera loves you.”

Truer words had never come out of your mouth. Saerom behind a camera was a natural fit, her smile beaming with confidence, every pose and angle flawless as she was. After all, when you’re being paid to be beautiful for a living you’ve really made it.

“Make sure to capture my best side.”

“You don’t have a bad side,” you responded. Saerom blushed cutely.

Two hours flew by, Saerom’s experience playing a huge part and even with makeup touch-ups and additional wardrobe changes there was time to spare.

“That should be a wrap. Thank you for your hard work, Miss Saerom” you said. You never wanted to stop taking pictures of her and definitely took more than necessary, but more was always better than less.

“Can I see some?” Saerom eagerly asked.

“It’ll take some time to get them all transferred and processed if you don't mind waiting,” you said as you removed the card from your camera and slipped it inside your laptop on the nearby table.

“Not at all! I’ll wait over here,” she said as she took a seat on the nearby black leather couch.

You had taken literally thousands of pictures and it would take some time to add them all, much less edit them. Sorting quickly through a handful of different outfits and looks you picked the best ones, doing a quick edit on them before transferring them over to the large monitor next to your laptop.

You gestured for Saerom to come over and she scurried over right away. Her eyes grew wide as she looked through the handpicked batch of pictures, proud of the hard work both of you had put in and the satisfying results.

“You’re an amazing photographer,” she shyly said.

“An artist is only as good as their art,” you replied, almost regretting spewing out such a cheesy line but earning another smile out of Saerom.

“We still have some time left don’t we?” she asked. Most of your appointments were scheduled in three-hour blocks, allowing plenty of time for preparations and in case something went wrong. And something almost always went wrong.

“You are correct, Miss Saerom.”

“Perfect. Can you shoot some more of me then?”

“I’d love to.”

Saerom returned to the set, the look on her face uncertain as you went to set up your camera again.

“I don’t have any more outfits to wear,” she said, unsure of herself.

“There’s a closet in the corner with spare outfits, I don’t know your size but they should fit.”

Saerom hesitated for a moment. “That won’t be necessary.”

In a moment’s notice, Saerom acted on impulse and shedded her dress, baring her immaculate body and the incredibly sexy pair of matching lace black lingerie underneath. You weren’t expecting this moment of spontaneity and your jaw dropped.

“What?” she smirked. “You’ve shot women in lingerie before haven’t you?”

“Y-yes, but-”

“Then you won’t mind me getting more comfortable will you?”

“N-not at all-”

“Good.”

Saerom continued with a playful smile and kicked her heels off to the side, leaving her standing in the middle of the set barefoot in her underwear, the insane curves of her tight body front and center for your viewing pleasure.

Her full breasts were barely covered, showing abundant cleavage and the flimsy piece of lace did little to contain them, showing off the size of her perfect chest as if they wanted to escape from their prison. Her gorgeous legs led up to soft creamy thighs, and Saerom’s toned abs looked as delicious as the rest of her body, clearly the result of hours of work at the gym.

"Incredible," you said in awe.

"Like what you see?" Saerom asked with a cute giggle. You found yourself speechless.

"I've always wanted to be an underwear model. My company would never let me though, they love protecting my image," Saerom said sarcastically as her eyes rolled.

"You certainly have the perfect body for it."

"Thank you," Saerom said as her cheeks reddened. "I work very hard for it."

"It shows."

Saerom switched from shy and cute to sexy instantaneously as she flipped her hair seductively, running her hands through it as she lifted her arms over her head. Your camera shutter went crazy as you started shooting your newly undressed model, not wanting to waste a second.

"How do I look?" she asked as she bit her lip.

"You're very sexy, Saerom."

"Am I? How about some closeup shots then?"

Without even responding you practically ripped your heavy camera from its tripod as you detached it, closing the distance between you Saerom, taking a deep breath as you approached.

“Think of these as exclusive shots. Just for us,” Saerom said, showing off to the camera.

While the previous shoot was rather professional, Saerom was rather quiet for the majority of it, focusing on her poses and angles. Now that she was opening up in more ways than one you wanted to get to know her.

“Tell me something about yourself, Saerom.”

“What would you like to know?” she asked, pouting her lips at the camera.

“Something...interesting.”

“Interesting?” she pondered. “I share a place with eight other girls.”

“Eight? That’s insane. I can’t imagine how long the line for the bathroom is.”

“You get used to it, it becomes fun most of the time. Having time on my own like this is actually kind of weird for me now.”

“I’m exhausted just thinking about it.”

Saerom laughed and you could tell she was becoming more comfortable around you,

“It was difficult at first but I think I would be bored living by myself now,” Saerom said as she spun around on her heels and placed her hands on her hips, bending over enough to give a good look at her plump round ass as her eyes kept contact with your camera, trying to keep your pants from tightening.

“Fuck, you have a really nice ass, Saerom,” you blurted out even without thinking. She didn’t seem to mind.

“Thanks. It’s my favorite part of me,” she proudly said.

You couldn’t stop staring at Saerom’s heavenly sculpted backside, wondering how soft those cheeks felt, but you quickly tried chasing those thoughts away as you didn’t want a bulge forming in your pants in front of her.

“You’re one of the best models I’ve had the pleasure to work with,” you said, distracting yourself.

“Really? You’re just saying that to make me feel good.”

“I’m not. Most models that show up don’t give me any trouble, occasionally you’ll get a spoiled diva that shows up late and clearly doesn’t want to be here and it ruins the atmosphere of the whole shoot.”

You made sure to get closeup shots of every part of Saerom’s body, taking extra care in framing her ass perfectly before walking to the front of her sexy body and taking several shots of her wonderful breasts.

“But you walked in and this whole place lit up.”

“That’s sweet.”

“It’s the truth.”

Saerom paused. “What do you think?” Saerom asked, cupping her breasts. You felt your heart racing.

“They’re perfect.”

“How about a closer view then?” she asked. You zoomed in and aimed at her chest, but Saerom shyly smiled and aimed your camera down.

“That’s not what I meant.”

Before you could put any thought into her words Saerom reached behind her back and unclasped her bra, divesting it from her body as she exposed her sizable pale breasts, bouncing as they were freed.

“Holy shit, Saerom.”

“How about you put that camera down and we have a little fun?”

Without having a chance to respond you got rid of your camera as Saerom’s topless body walked towards you, your eyes immediately drawn to her full round breasts and salivating over them.

“Do any of your models ever let you touch them?”

“I try to keep things professional.”

“That’s boring,” Saerom said with a seductive smirk as she grabbed your hands and guided them to her breasts, helping you squeeze them. You moaned at their softness and how they fit in your hands, the weight of her breasts, and how perfectly shaped they were made you lose your mind.

“You’re so perfect,” you said as you squeezed and groped Saerom’s tits, squeezing two perfect handfuls as her pretty pink nipples hardened against your palms as she looked into your eyes. The fabric of your pants constricted and there was no stopping it this time.

“You can touch all you want. Taste me.”

“I will,” you said hungrily as you crashed your lips against hers and wrapped your hands around her bare waist, The taste of Saerom’s cherry lips entered your mouth. You pulled her in tighter as she returned your advances, tongues dancing together as the scent of her perfume lingered in the air. You wanted Saerom, bad. You wanted to rip her panties off and fuck her against your set, forcing to pace yourself and keep yourself under control.

You broke the kiss and exchanged lustful stares, not wasting a second as you dove into her breasts, licking stripes up and down her cleavage, and brought your mouth to her tits and teased her sensitive nipples. Saerom moaned as you flicked delicate circles around each one before sucking tenderly, earning gasps and whiny moans.

Schedules be damned, you took your time with each of her breasts, giving each equal attention and not leaving your hands from her flesh, not moving on until her hard nipples were covered in your saliva.

“Mmm, fuck,” Saerom moaned, caressing your hair as you devoured and buried yourself in her tits. Playful licking turned into loud slurping, and when that wasn’t enough you nibbled on each of her swollen pink nubs, grazing on her stiff nipples in between your teeth gently as her moans grew louder and whinier.

With all of your attention on Saerom’s tits, you sucked and sucked with no intention of stopping until your lips were numb, looking up every so often to see the pleasure running through Saerom.

Meanwhile, with your mouth full of Saerom’s breasts you felt a hand move down to your crotch and squeezed as she felt you up through your pants which became painfully tight.

“I must be turning you on,” she giggled.

“You are, you really are. Fuck, you’re so hot, Saerom,” you growled.

“I could say the same to you,” she said. “I got you all worked up, didn’t I? It’s only fair I do something about it.”

Saerom stopped you in your tracks and led you over to the couch, playfully pushing you against it as you fell down and took a seat. Slowly lowering to her knees she rubbed up and down your thighs, biting her lip, watching as you removed your shirt in preparation.

“How many women have you fucked on this couch?”

“Not enough,” you smirked.

“Time to add one more to your tally then.”

With a sly grin on her pretty face, Saerom unzipped your pants, quickly yanking them with your boxers down to your ankles with your assistance. Your cock sprang free, throbbing in the cold air and Saerom’s eyes went wide at the sight of it.

Saerom licked her lips, feeling an insatiable desire and hunger deep inside her at the sight of your unleashed manhood. As she admired your rock hard shaft, finding herself unable to draw her eyes away as her long slender fingers wrapped tightly around your hard cock, applying firm pressure and began stroking you up and down, feeling every inch.

“You have a very nice cock,” Saerom said, lips curling wide as she pumped you slowly and drizzled her fingers with your leaking pre-cum. She kissed the very tip of your cock, making your whole body jerk as her soft lips explored your cock and traveled down your base.

Every kiss on your shaft was loaded with hunger, and once Saerom reached the end of your cock she flattened her tongue against your base while you watched her every move. You moaned as her wet warm tongue moved slowly up and down your shaft, giving delicate strokes until she found your sensitive tip and swirled around your swollen head, lapping up every leaking drop.

“Yummy,” she said, spitting on your cock several times and spreading it all over your shaft, jerking you off and keeping eye contact.

Saerom kissed your tip one more time before she parted her plump red lips with your cock, taking the first few inches of you into her warm wet mouth.

“Oh f-fuuck,” you moaned loudly as Saerom hollowed her cheeks and sealed her lips tight around your cock. Saerom sucked you off slowly and tenderly while her sexy gaze was glued to you, full lips sliding up and down your shaft.

With constant eye contact Saerom built up your pleasure, taking her time with sucking your cock, enjoying it just as much as she moaned around your shaft.

“Fuck, Saerom," you moaned and threw your head back."That feels fucking good."

She smiled with your cock in her mouth, the bright studio lights letting you see her face perfectly as she began to bob her head up and down, her tongue playing with the underside of your shaft.

Saerom upped her pace as she swallowed more of your cock inside her warm mouth, the redness of her lips fading as her dark lipstick began smearing on your shaft, combined with streaks of her spit.

Her pretty hands did not stay idle, using one to stroke up and down your thigh, digging her nails in as the other cupped and fondled your balls.

“So heavy and full," she said as her nose nudged against your cock and planted messy wet kisses on your balls."I'll make sure they’re empty when I'm done with you."

Saerom continued to pleasure your balls while jerking off your needy cock, licking wide stripes, and glazing your sack with drool. She sucked on each one tenderly, giving your balls equal attention and hungrily slurping on them individually as you moaned louder, letting your satisfaction be known.

Using both her lips and tongue all over your balls, Saerom blew hot air against each of them before bringing your cock back into her mouth. Those deadly eyes glued to your own as she sucked slowly from tip to base, swallowing up every last inch as you hit the back of her throat without any real effort.

“Oh god, Saerom…”

The satisfaction in her eyes was obvious as she took you down her mouth with ease, her throat tightening around you as she relaxed her muscles, not even letting out a single gag.

Her soft wet lips felt so good wrapped around your cock, and you instinctively grabbed the back of her head, guiding her movements as she bobbed faster, lips kissing your base with each stroke.

It wasn’t long before you encouraged an even quicker pace, Saerom hungrily slurping down every inch that impaled her throat, desperately trying not to go wild and fuck her throat as much as you wanted to.

Saerom kept your wet shaft deep down her throat, working her muscles and keeping her lips sealed around every inch as she played with your balls, drooling all over your cock.

"Fuck, Saerom. You're so damn good at that."

"I've had a lot of practice."

Saerom hummed and gave your cock one more slow satisfying slurp from base to tip, releasing it with a loud messy pop as she furiously jerked off your messy wet shaft.

Not even bothering to wipe off leftover spit and lipstick on her face, Saerom's lust-filled gaze focused on you as she made you wait in anticipation.

Keeping your cock in her small delicate hands, Saerom carefully made a show of

sliding her panties down her toned legs, tossing them onto your set.

"A little present from me. Keep them."

With barely any time to react, you stole a glance at Saerom's beautiful bare pussy as she straddled you, the warmth of her naked body radiating around you as her comforting thighs rested against your own.

Saerom really was like no other woman, as cliché as it sounded. You could see it in her eyes that she wanted your cock, not just for her own satisfaction but for yours, aching to share in mutual pleasure.

The way she held your cock in her hand, aiming it between her spread thighs and between the pink wet flesh of her pussy, slowly rubbing it against her folds was agonizing, deliberately teasing both of you with a sly expression on her face.

You understood what she was doing as Saerom continued to run your cock through the wet warmth of her hole, but that didn’t make it any less easy to hold out, each sensation running through your body making it harder to maintain an ounce of composure.

“Saerom…”

She didn’t say a word as she collected her slick on your shaft, mixing it with leftover saliva, coating your cock in her fluids. Saerom thankfully shared your impatience and knew when enough was enough.

“I’m so wet,” Saerom bluntly said, the first set of words that left her lips in several minutes.

In what felt like the longest few seconds of your life Saerom lifted her wide hips up in the air, aiming herself carefully, and sank down on the first few inches of your cock.

Saerom gasped loudly and you shared an equally loud groan at the feeling of penetrating her body, the intense sensation of entering her pussy for the first time was unlike anything else. There was a lot to take in. Saerom’s wetness surrounded your cock as expected, followed by extreme warmth and tightness that overwhelmed you.

Gently moving her body up and down Saerom took it easy at first, letting her wet walls be parted with more of your hard cock, clinging tightly around your shaft that gradually disappeared in between her thighs.

“How do I feel?” Saerom asked as she wrapped her hands around the back of your neck, using her hips and sliding up and down your cock, coating more of your shaft in her juices.

“So fucking tight.”

She beamed at your response, sinking deeper and deeper until she almost bottomed herself out and stopped just above the base of your shaft.

“You feel really good inside me.”

Her eyes closed and her head whipped back as you both moaned together and felt her tight walls squeezing you tightly, letting herself get used to the rock hard flesh fully entering her body.

“I need every inch inside me,” Saerom pleaded, not that you were in a position to stop her, letting her control every movement. You watched between her beautiful thighs every move she made as her slick lips gripped your cock, ensuring you never left the warmth of her body.

In one swift movement, Saerom lifted herself from your cock, moving so just the tip of your shaft was inside her, and slammed her hips down and impaled herself to the hilt, moaning at being completely filled.

“Fuck!”

Saerom didn’t allow herself any adjustment, she didn’t need it and neither did you as she smiled devilishly.

“Ride my cock, Saerom,” you demanded and your orders were followed right away as she began bouncing on your dick, her mouth agape as she threw her head back in pleasure. You snaked your hands around her slim waist and grabbed her ass with both hands, kneading the soft flesh and encouraging her to continue dictating the pace.

“Stretch me out...stretch my tight little pussy just like that. Fuck, I wish I could ride you all day.”

“I could always cancel the rest of my appointments.”

“F-fuck, don’t tempt me. But I have my own schedules after this too,” she frowned.

“Guess we’ll have to schedule another session then.”

Saerom nodded in response and your hands squeezed her cheeks tighter, giving her ass a few quick slaps as she gasped, looking at the way she was falling apart already as she rode you.

Continuing to test the waters you gave repeated smacks against Saerom’s plentiful backside, the satisfying sounds of both raised palms striking her bare cheeks filled your ears. Saerom whined cutely in response as her walls clenched around your cock with each impact, not using enough force to sting but just giving her body a little something extra.

“You like being spanked, Saerom?”

“I-I do.”

“I’ll have to remember that for next time,” you smirked. Saerom took the opportunity to increase the pace, allowing herself to adjust and found the perfect angle to take your shaft inside her, bouncing her delicious big ass on your cock.

“You’re drenched, Saerom. Do you always get this wet?” you asked. She hesitated before shyly nodding.

“It’s mostly your fault,” she timidly replied, establishing a harsher rhythm as she rode you with more intensity and fervor, her perfect set of tits bouncing hypnotically with every movement.

“I take full responsibility.”

Settling into the sharp pleasure Saerom gave in to her desires and rode your cock faster, covering the entire surface of your shaft in her slick as you explored her voluptuous naked body and ran your hands up every inch of her bare skin you had access to.

You started with Saerom’s creamy thighs, caressing them softly before moving on to her sexy toned tummy, feeling her tight sculpted abs against your fingertips. She reacted to every touch audibly as your hands made their way back to her luscious breasts, cupping them and keeping your hands filled as she slammed her ass harder against your cock, creating more pleasure.

"You ride me so well, Saerom," you said as you pinched her nipples, feeling her pussy tightening and more of her juices leaking out. You kept your hands filled with her wonderful pale breasts as her ass repeatedly slammed down on your crotch, using your cock for her pleasure.

"It helps that I love your cock," Saerom said as she rode you faster and faster as sweat began to mist all over of your bodies, thighs crashing against your own with every bounce.

"And I love you creaming all over my cock."

The mere act of Saerom taking your cock in and out of her body with ease was driving you crazy, her hot wet pussy wrapped so tightly around your cock you felt like you could burst at any moment.

You couldn’t keep up with all the sensations running through your body, each time Saerom’s ass smacked against your body brought you closer to the point of no return, her juices flowing down her thighs confirming that she was equally reaching past her own limits.

Saerom's tight pussy began pulsating around your shaft as she became breathless, every forceful slam of her full hips brought down on your body making her wetter and wetter as she was barely able to keep her eyes open.

"Are you close, Saerom?" you asked. It took several moments before she could form an answer, and even then she could only nod in response.

"I need you cumming all over my cock."

"I w-will, fuck. Can you cum with me?"

"I'd love to," you said as desperation and need filled her eyes, knowing neither could hold on much longer. You watched her riding your cock just a little longer before growing tired of being passive and grabbed onto her hips, thrusting deep into her tight dripping cunt as she impaled herself on you.

You wanted every bit of pleasure out of Saerom's body and you were going to take it.

"Oh fuuuck! Just like that!"

It took a few thrusts to find the perfect timing, hitting Saerom's spot at just the right angle, keeping a firm grip on her sweaty body and trying to match her rhythm, both of you working together to achieve your collective goal of reaching climax.

You couldn’t help but stare at her, watching her gorgeous features contorting every time you filled her to the hilt. The air in the room grew harder to take in as you drove yourself in Saerom with desperation, both aching for release. The loud slapping of hot flesh against flesh fought for dominance against the equally loud moaning escaping Saerom’s lips.

“Fuck, fuck, baby, I-I'm gonna cum!" Saerom cried out, the three most beautiful words you had heard all day as you held onto her body tight, preparing yourself for the intensity of what was about to happen.

"I am too, fuck!"

“Cum inside me, please, I need you to fill my tight little pussy,” Saerom begged, and you did everything you could to hold out just long enough to let her achieve orgasm first. You weakly smiled and savored the last few moments before the inevitable.

The final few seconds arrived as your breathing deepened, looking dead center into Saerom’s beautiful eyes filled with need and desire. Without another word you felt Saerom’s juices overflowing as her pussy tightened almost painfully so, thighs trembling violently as her cunt squeezed the life out of your shaft as she came, leaving a mess over your cock and wrapped her arms tighter around the back of your neck and desperately moaning into your ears as her body turned to jelly.

Saerom looked beautiful as her orgasm took over her body, unable to control the volume of satisfied moans leaving her lips as she slowly came down from her intense high. She rocked her hips back and forth to ride out her orgasm and helped you join her as you felt all the tension in your body being released.

Unable to take anymore your cock throbbed inside Saerom, letting out needy grunts and moans as you exploded inside her, emptying your thick hot cum deep inside her pussy and pumping her full of your seed as her body took spurt after spurt as she was filled to the brim.

She rested her head on your shoulder, swaying her hips to coax every drop out of you, the feeling of your warmth deep inside her satisfying her to no end.

“You feel so warm,” she faintly said as your bodies took a much-deserved rest and stared into each other's eyes, both trying to catch a breath at the wonderful experience you just shared.

“That...was...amazing,” you said, heavily gasping.

“It was. I haven’t been fucked like that in a while,” Saerom smiled and kissed you, giving you one more taste of lips as she savored the warmth left in her body.

She gradually lifted her body off yours carefully as your cock plopped out and the huge thick load you had left inside began slowly dripping out of her pussy, running down her flushed thighs. Responding only in tired gasps she tried to catch her breath, watching the mess inside her continue to show itself.

Both of you too tired to move let alone speak, Saerom knelt and licked your shaft clean and tasted your combined juices, lips slurping slowly from base to tip to not miss a drop.

She headed over to your workstation with your cum still dripping down her thighs, grabbed your camera and took several full-body shots of her naked sweaty body, running her hand through her messy hair and smiling for the camera.

"Thank you," Saerom said as she ended up in your naked lap again.

"For what?"

"For taking such pretty pictures of me."

"It's all part of the job. It's easy when I have such a pretty model."

Her cheeks reddened again, the smile etched across her lips something you couldn’t ever get enough of.

"I can't wait to see the full versions."

"I'll have them sent to your company by the end of the week. Just the ones for the magazine of course,” you said.

"I look forward to it. I had a lot of fun today."

"I did too, Saerom."

"Can I see you again? After work?" she asked.

"I usually don't finish until the sun goes down."

"I don't mind, I'll be pretty busy myself. Maybe I'll even take some photos of my own for you."

"Oh? I didn't know you were a photographer as well."

"I'm just an amateur," she shyly said. "It’s just a hobby when I have the time."

"I'd love to see some shots."

"I'll send some then. They might not be as risqué as what we took today."

"As long as you’re in them I’ll love them."

Saerom accepted your praise with a grin on her features and regretfully dressed and left quietly, leaving you tired, sweaty and in need of a shower with her occupied in your thoughts.

Whoever the next model was you knew they couldn’t compare to Saerom, and you couldn’t wait for work to be over.

#kpop smut #fromis smut #saerom #male reader #fromis #reader insert #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #saerom smut #fromis_9

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cecesunshine · 3 years

Note

Oiiii vim pelo confissões

Você poderia fazer a prompt 1 e 10 (acho que elas combinam bem uma com a outra) com o Alistair? Não sei se tem que especificar pronomes, mas poderia ser ela/dela se não incomodar?

It’s done, sorry for taking so long! Espero que você não se importe que eu tenha escrito em inglês. Beijinhos anjo <3

Masterlist

The Only Thing | Alistair Drew

Summary → The only thing that makes early morning practice tolerable for Alistair is when Scholar watches it. It’s time for him to have courage and confess his love for her.

Pairing → Alistair Drew x Scholar

Warnings → None

Word Count → 1830

Prompts used → 1. Can I kiss you? + 10. That was unexpected.

A/N → As requested, Scholar uses she/her pronouns! Also, English is not my first language, so I apologize if there are errors or if something doesn't make sense.

As soon as autumn arrived, with it came the cold wind and the endless rain. Alistair rolled his eyes as he saw the cloudy sky that waited for him outside through his window. His bed was warm and it was Saturday, which intensified his desire to stay in bed.

Alistair forced himself to get up, feeling the cold of the floor as soon as his feet touched the floor. He took a quick glance at Tadashi, who was still sleeping. Poor guy, he needed a break after everything that happened between him and his father in the last few days. Alistair walked silently to the wardrobe that he shared with his roommate, taking out the red Athletics Department shirt and black sweatpants and leaving them on the top of his bed. Alistair grabbed his shower products and left the room, heading to the bathroom.

The dorm was relatively quiet, as it was 5:40 in the morning. Alistair loved his department, and he loved everything he did but god, he envied the fact they could sleep into late hours of the morning. As he entered the bathroom, he saw that he wasn’t alone. There was Scholar, fixing her hair with a concentrated look on her face.

“Good morning, Scholar.” Alistair greeted her, going in her direction and leaning into the wall.

“Alistair! Hi, I didn’t even see you coming in!” Scholar greeted him back, quite startled at the sudden salutation given to her. “Why are you up so early?”

“I have practice, the real question is, why are YOU up so early? It’s Saturday, you need to rest.” Alistair asked, studying her features. If there was something that he liked about Scholar, it was definitely her eyes, always wandering around the room or simply focused on something. He had noticed how she would avoid eye contact and look around at random stuff when she was nervous.

“I want to do the homework that Ms. Rodriguez gave us early so I don’t have to worry about it during the rest of the weekend.” Scholar replied, staring at herself in the mirror again. “Also, I didn’t know Coach worked on the weekends.”

“He doesn’t, the Athletic Department students do it voluntarily, it’s part of the job. Although sometimes the only thing you want to do is sleep until late afternoon.”

“Well, shouldn’t other students from your department be up already?”

“We talked about it in our group chat, the other girls from the soccer team had a game yesterday and they are super tired, so they’re not coming. Raquel sprained her ankle so she’s not coming either and some of the boys said that they will be ditching practice today.” Alistair told her, then started counting on his fingers. “So taking me, Rick and some other guys, there will be probably 6 or 7 people at the gym today.”

“Got it. Well, good luck for you and the guys today.” Scholar said as she was making her way to the door.

“Scholar, wait!” The words left Alistair’s mouth almost immediately. “Do you want to...I don’t know...have breakfast with me?” Very slick, Al, he thought.

“I would love to. Meet me in my room when you're ready, ok?” She said and finally left, leaving a red Alistair alone in the bathroom, still processing what happened.

Alistair showered quickly, feeling his hands trembling as he ran his finger through his blonde hair. He needed to be nice and clean for her.

He made his way back to his room, dressing up in his usual practice outfit, trying to style it so it would look better.

"Wow man, never seen you so worried about how you look for practice." Said Tadashi, who had just woken up.

"I'm not only going to practice, I'm going to have breakfast with Scholar." Alistair announced, fixing his shirt. "Tucked in or tucked out?"

"In, obviously. You don't want her to think that you don't care." Tadashi joked. “I mean, she probably knows that you like her. Is not like you are very discreet about it, you’re always walking around her, complimenting her, flexing your muscles to her. It's cute to see, you’re like her personal golden retriever.”

Alistair didn’t reply, he just shot a serious look to his friend, so he would stop. Not because it wasn’t true, but because Alistair wasn’t aware of how other people looked at him every time he would orbit around Scholar. After finishing dressing himself, Alistair grabbed his varsity jacket and quickly said his goodbyes to Tadashi, who was planning on getting more sleep.

In the dorm hallway, the blonde boy knocked into Scholar’s room door, who came out seconds later. She was wearing black jeans, a white knitted sweater and her famous red scarf and was carrying her purse.

“Hi Al.” She greeted him once again. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yes. Let’s get some food, I’m starving.”

They both made their way quickly into the cafeteria, which was surprisingly empty. As Scholar sat down, Alistair went to the counter, where he got a coffee and a strawberry cake for Scholar and an energetic and a protein bar for him.

“Thank you.” Scholar thanked Alistair, as he put the table on the plate. “You know, I was very surprised you’d ask me to get breakfast with you. I thought you were mad at me or something.”

“What? Why?”

“I don’t know, after I congratulated you for the Athletics Department’s presentation at the competition you looked…” She stopped talking, as she was looking for the right words. "uncomfortable. I thought that maybe I said something wrong and I didn’t want to bother you so I decided that I wouldn’t ask you what I did wrong because I didn’t want to upset you even more, so when you asked me for breakfast I was shocked.”

“Scholar, it’s impossible for me to be mad at you. You are the sweetest person I know.” Alistair said, reaching to her hand, grabbing it gently as Scholar looked away blushing, clearly embarrassed at this caring gesture.

They both ate the rest of the meal quietly, sometimes exchanging little smiles and stealing glances that ended up with both blushing or laughing quietly. If anyone else saw them, they would say they were a couple, but they couldn’t see it as they were both oblivious.

The time to leave finally arrived, where Scholar offered to walk Alistair to the gym, which he happily accepted.

As Alistair presumed, the gym was almost empty besides some boys who were doing push-ups and seeing who would be the first to give up.

“I guess this is your stop. I need to go do my homework so I’ll probably go back to the cafeteria.” Scholar pointed to her purse, where all of her supplies were, and then looked to Alistair, who seemed sad about the fact that she was leaving. “Or...I could do my homework while you practice, if that’s okay with you.”

“Yeah, absolutely.” Alistair agreed almost immediately, giving her a smile. For him, this was an opportunity to impress Scholar. She would see him doing the thing that he does the best.

As Scholar sat down at the bleachers and started taking her stuff out of the bag, Alistair started stretching, warming up his muscles and took off running around the gym. He was really excited to work out in front of Scholar, as this was probably the sneakiest way to show off to her without exactly showing off.

Scholar was supposed to focus on her homework, but at that moment, she could only focus on Alistair, who had stopped running and was now participating in a push-up contest with the other boys of his department.

As the boys gave up and left, Alistair started laughing. Alistair wiped his sweaty face with his face, showing off his abs and his muscular form. God, had he always been that handsome?, Scholar wondered and quickly brushed up that thought as Alistair was walking towards her.

“Everything alright?” The blonde boy asked, taking a sip of his water bottle. “I’m sorry if seeing me training is boring to you.”

“Nothing is ever boring with you Al, and I love being around you.”She said, making Alistair blush. ”Are you finished yet?”

“Finished? I barely even started. I still need to take the boxing supplies out of the storage room and set them up and then I’ll start the boxing practice. Do you want to help?”

Scholar agreed, setting her things down. Already in the storage room, they both started to take out the things and setting it up in the gym, sometimes touching hands and blushing madly.

With everything set up, Alistair began punching the punching bag, always keeping an eye on Scholar, who gave up on doing her homework and was now just watching him. Alistair smiled, his plan was working.

“How do you not have a girlfriend or boyfriend?” She abruptly asked, taking Alistair by surprise.

“W-What?” Alistair spoke, his voice trembling and betraying him at that moment.

“How are you not dating someone?” Scholar questioned again. “Tell me, how is Alistair Drew, one of Arlington’s most attractive boys, single?”

“Well, it’s complicated.” Alistair took off his gloves and his headgear, sitting next to her. “I’m only single because I’m a coward.”

“What do you mean coward?”

Alistair looked at her, staring deeply into her eyes. He needed to tell her, it was time to finally be brave. He held her hand caressing it with his thumb. Scholar reciprocated, also looking into his eyes, giving him a confused look.

“Scholar, I like you.” He finally confessed, still looking at her. “I’ve been trying to tell you this for a while but I was always looking for the right moment. But the truth is, I was just afraid of telling you how I feel because I didn’t know how you would react. You are the most incredible person I know, you’re simply the best.” Alistair got silent for a few seconds and then spoke again. “I really like you...and I hope you like me too.”

After his confession, none of them knew what to say. The silence between them was uncomfortable, in a way that neither of them could put into words.

“Well, that was unexpected.” Scholar said, trying to help the situation. “Look Alistair, that day during the competition, I was going to say the same thing.”

“What?” He questioned.

“I was going to confess to you. I feel the same, Al.” Scholar announced, smiling shyly. “I like you.”

Now, the silence between them was comfortable. So comfortable that they were now closer than ever, as Alistair placed his hand on Scholar's chin, looking at her like she was the only person in the whole world.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked for permission, waiting anxiously for an answer.

“Yes Alistair, you can.”

And their lips touched, as both were involved in a loving but innocent kiss.

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rosaliepostsstuff · 3 years

Text

Little steps (George Weasley x reader) | pt 4 - Attention

Pairing: George Weasley x reader, OC x reader

Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3

Summary: Y/N and George try to figure out what the Yule Ball changed in their relationship; life gets back to normal and goes on, Y/N is a confused teenager™ and has a hard time sorting her shit out

Word count: 6897

warnings: cursing, mentions of sexual themes, mentions of alcohol, canon character death

a/n: It’s a wild ride and honestly I don’t know what else to say about it. I hope I left as little mistakes as possible, it’s long. The next part will be the last, my dears. Also, I’m not sure if drinking lemon balm tea is a thing outside of where I’m from so I’m sorry if you got confused 😅 - I drink it and I like it.

Walking up the curved steps you felt his tingling gaze, you held your breath in, until you were out of sight, and you seemed to shake more with each step you took. The door handle to your room felt colder than ever. You stepped into the room where Hermione was getting ready for a shower, picking up her cosmetics, you felt dazed as if you just stepped out of a fairy tale and you didn’t know how to function in the normal world anymore. So you closed the door behind you, your friend stopping in her tracks, trying to read you. You took a deep breath, leaning your back against the door and looked into her eyes – and that anchored you. Tonight really did happen, in the real world. Your face broke into a huge smile and you didn’t have to say anything, you just squealed and charged at her – both of you jumping grinning like fools, squeezing each other tight.

“I need to calm down, take a shower and just lay down” you started rambling after you let go of her “otherwise I’ll never fall asleep. Oh, I hope I can fall asleep normally, we both know I’m as good as dead if I don’t get enough sleep- “ you went on as you started picking up your own toiletries, kicking off your shoes in the meantime, while Hermione waited for you, chuckling at how dramatic you were. She was glad to be distracted from her own whirlwind of thoughts after that evening.

The following morning you woke up, debating whether getting up at all, was a good idea. But your rumbling stomach won. You washed up and stood in front of the mirror in your room, wondering what to wear. Why would choosing an outfit be too difficult? It was a normal morning after all. – a skirt with a button-up? no, that’s trying hard… - I mean, you never cared about how you looked- or wait, scratch that. You never questioned your judgement or had much trouble with it – maybe just some sweats? ugh, but then people would start assuming you’re in a bad mood, or hungover… - looking good just came naturally to you and you weren’t a try-hard, as you kept telling yourself. So you put on a pair of fitting jeans with a sweater and put your hair up in a high ponytail. It’s just a normal morning.

You knew Hermione left before you and you didn’t see Harry or Ron in the common room, so you stepped through the heavy wooden door leading to the great hall, alone. If your wardrobe this morning didn’t confuse you enough, now you faced another dilemma. How did you usually choose a place to sit? Why was existing and decision making so difficult that morning? Surely, you didn’t get enough sleep. That was it.

Still deep in your thoughts, your feet were awkwardly following along the Gryffindor table. I mean, normally, when you weren’t already with your friends, you would just take any empty spot. Today should be the same. Your seat at the breakfast table shouldn’t be a statement, yeah?

“Hey, Y/N,” said Hermione, shifting a bit closer to Harry, so you could sit by her other side. You didn’t realize you had walked up to them. “Hi,” you said, slowly taking your spot and unsuspiciously scanning the perimeter. “-everyone..” you added when you met George’s eyes as he was bringing a coffee mug up to his lips, smiling to you. You broke the eye contact to pick some food and get on with your breakfast and just missed how he hit his teeth with the mug, spilling a bit of the liquid and earning a snort from Fred.

——————⁛⁙⁘◊⁘⁙⁛—————— January, 1995

“-have you ever noticed that?” said George staring dreamily at your confident smirk after you probably made some cheeky comment, sitting with your friends by the fire on the other side of the common room. “No, can’t say I have,” answered Fred in a bored tone with his cheek resting on his palm and elbows on the table, until he got a punch to the side. “Ugh, what do you want me to do?” he said wincing a bit and rubbing the sore spot as his twin glared at him, feeling betrayed. “-you’re absolutely smitten with her since the ball and it’s getting boring. Get over yourself!” “Could you be any louder?!” George whisper-yelled “ -wait no, don’t answer that” he quickly followed, holding his hands up as he knew the look in his brother’s eye well. “Look, all I’m saying is – that’s still Y/N we’re talking about. And this- “ Fred gestured widely at George’s position “-isn’t helping you.”

——————⁛⁙⁘◊⁘⁙⁛——————

Much too soon for most of the students, the new term came along. You fell into a routine, very similar to the one from the previous term, only with a few slight changes. You had calmed down a bit when it came to George, who would now, along with Fred, hang out with you from time to time. He also got back to his confident self around you. His new approach was hard to get used to at first, cause it meant frequent compliments, winks, attempts to show off, distracting you when you tried to study in the common room and those damned, so hard to resist smiles you always had to return.

January was coming to an end and you were eating lunch with Hermione, boys not with you, brainstorming about the clue Harry got after opening his egg. As you stopped reaching new conclusions, the conversation topic shifted and you recalled how you got involved in one of the twins’ pranks. “-then I just told him how I was going to tutor George and Fred that afternoon and threw in a couple of insults, saying how insufferably dull they are etc, to appeal to him and avoid further questioning,” you explained how you covered for them with Snape. You were one of few if not the only, non-Slytherin student he respected didn’t despise. It was probably thanks to a mix of your character and having two older brothers that you knew where to pick your fights and weren’t afraid to swallow your pride if it ultimately meant benefits. It came very useful with Snape.

“-all that was left was for George and Fred to put some finishing touches and voila.” You said munching proudly. “George and Fred?..” asked Ginny, confused, leaning out from behind Hermione, reminding you she was there the whole time. “Yeah, I mean, it was their plan, so-“ “No, no- George and Fred?” she continued and looked at Hermione who was just as confused as you. “I mean- it’s always Fred and George.” she said looking between you two “it sounds weird the other way around” she got back to her food, “no one says that..” but she didn’t push further as Hermione was biting onto her bottom lip trying to keep a straight face and you put your fork down, suddenly not hungry anymore and -so- weirdly warm.

——————⁛⁙⁘◊⁘⁙⁛——————

February, 1995

You’ve been distracted from worrying about your schoolwork and figuring out how to help Harry with his second task, by the arrival of Valentine’s Day. After putting a bit more effort into your appearance you headed to the Great Hall for breakfast feeling excited, although just a tiny bit conflicted. You were on your way to your friends, walking between the tables of Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, where your eyes found Matt who shot you a sly wink that made you bite your lip before he turned back to his friends. You never got to really celebrate Valentine’s before, but now you were sure he had something prepared for you. Your mind was taken off of it as you chattered with your friends over breakfast and then headed to your morning classes. As your Transfiguration class was about to start, you opened your bag to reach for your books, but you were surprised. On top of your books was a note, tied to a colourful box you knew well. You looked around the class and took your spot, taking out your things to avoid McGonagall’s attention. Trying to keep a poker face you opened the note:

You look beautiful, as always. Got your favourite Fizzing Whizbees because you ate like a ton at the ball, Secret Admirer

You read and in your attempts to stay quiet you made a tiny squeal mixed with a giggle, which caused confused Ron to turn around and you tried to mask it with a cough. You repeated the words a few times in your head. George thought you were beautiful.

——————⁛⁙⁘◊⁘⁙⁛——————

About a week later, it was a fine afternoon for Fred and George. They sweet-talked their way out of detention with Professor Sprout after borrowing an ingredient from one of the greenhouses and were currently on a quest for dinner, walking through one of the quiet corridors surrounding the courtyard near Transfiguration.

George thought the day was going brilliantly and his mood was great until he saw something in the corner of his eye and subconsciously turned his head slightly in that direction. Some couple snogging against a wall, not an extraordinary sight in an otherwise empty corridor. He was about to shrug it off, but then it hit him like a train – his feet got nailed to the ground, blood was draining his body and his smile quickly fell. You were the girl. Fred noticed him stop and followed his gaze. “Who’s the git?” He said with a disgusted expression. George didn’t know, but he recognised him as the Hufflepuff you danced with at the ball, whose hands were now roaming all over your body. “Come on, now.” Fred didn’t know what to say to his brother but he knew watching wouldn’t do him much good, so he grabbed his shoulder and headed to the Great Hall once more. Approaching Ron, Harry and Hermione, Fred tried to think of a way to loosen their tongues about the Hufflepuff git without showing that he or George cared. “-that’s why we’ll ask Y/N what she thinks, you know she’s better at it..” said Hermione and Fred’s opportunity came “Just saw her with her boyfriend, she looked busy..” he said lazily flipping his legs over the bench and George followed. “Boyfriend?” Harry questioned as all three of them looked over confused “Nearly sucked his face off-“ he said earning a kick in the shin under the table from George. “Who is he anyway?” “Hufflepuff, tall, dark hair..?” asked Hermione and Fred nodded still determined not to show too much emotion. “Aah, Matt?” said Ron with his mouth full and a bit of his food fell out, earning Fred’s disgusted look. “Matthew Aston. He’s in our year. But they’re not dating. He’s not her boyfriend.” said Hermione shortly, looking down at her plate. “So keeping it casual then, huh..?” Fred raised his eyebrows slightly and slowly nodded. “It started around the start of the semester, weird you haven’t noticed.” said Harry shrugging slightly “Yeah, he hangs out with us sometimes, he’s alright.” added Ron. When you arrived at the table you decided not to ask about everybody being weirdly quiet but made a mental note to bring it up later.

That evening, after they told you, you took a long bath in an attempt to sort out your thoughts. It was all true. Matt didn’t like seeing you with George at the ball (or at all, frankly), so not long after, he made a move you couldn’t resist. And being with him was comfortable. He knew you well, was attractive and so very into you, eager to please. And it was all good, but not enough for you to commit. You kept thinking that maybe one day you will, but you refused to call him your boyfriend. If that wasn’t confusing enough, then there was George. He felt right, and he felt real in a way you couldn’t describe. That only made you all the more careful with him. You’ve never felt that way towards anyone so you preferred to sit back and wait where it takes you. But you couldn’t help but feel guilty. While you felt a bit stiffer around George in the next few days, he slowly came around. He still didn’t like the idea of anybody else being close to you in that way, even if not officially in a relationship, but from his interactions with you, he concluded all was not yet lost. And for now, he found an outlet for his negative emotions in subtle glares whenever he saw Matt around the school.

——————⁛⁙⁘◊⁘⁙⁛——————

As the second task of the Tournament was getting closer, it occupied your mind. Lunchtimes, afternoons and evenings spent in the library to no avail, you were getting more desperate in finding a solution for surviving an hour underwater. You had less and less time, and now you found yourself watching the last sunset through the library window, before the day of the task. You had secretly given up on finding anything in those books, Ron did not hide it anymore and Hermione felt insulted as the library had never failed her before. “Oh this is no use,” Hermione said, snapping shut Weird Wizarding Dilemmas. “Who on earth wants to make their nose hair grow into ringlets?” “I wouldn’t mind,” said Fred Weasley’s voice. “Be a talking point, wouldn’t it?” The four of you looked up. Fred and George had just emerged from behind some bookshelves. “What’re you two doing here?” Ron asked. “Looking for you,” said George, which perked up your curiosity “McGonagall wants you, Ron. And you, Hermione.” “Why?” said Hermione, looking surprised. “Hang on, why those two?” You narrowed your eyes. You got why she could’ve excluded Harry, but if she took Hermione and Ron, you’d expect her to ask for you too. “Dunno… she was looking a bit grim, though,” said Fred. “We’re supposed to take you down to her office,” said George. Ron and Hermione stared at Harry, and you shared a concerned look with him. “We’ll meet you back in the common room,” Hermione told you two as she got up to go with Ron — both of them looked very anxious. “Bring as many of these books as you can, okay?” “Right,” said harry uneasily and you just nodded. You and Harry stayed in the library a bit longer, until Madam Pince kicked you out, then made your way to the Gryffindor tower with a stack of tomes each. You waited and waited, but Ron and Hermione never came back, and so around midnight, you excused yourself to go to bed, advising Harry to do the same. The next morning you missed Harry at breakfast and headed out with the crowd to watch the second task, hoping he was already getting ready. It felt weird not having Hermione or Ron beside you on the way to the lake. By the boats, you were looking for any familiar faces to group with, when you heard two well-known voices behind you, taking bets. You walked in their direction waving, hoping they’d notice your small figure amongst the crowd. “Hello, sunshine!” George beamed at you, slamming the suitcase shut. “A beautiful morning, innit?” added Fred, as you scooted closer to them and away from the moving crowd. “The sky is literally grey,” you said looking up but he just waved his hand and rolled his eyes, mouthing ‘details’. “Shall we get a boat?” you looked at the water and back at them “or are you staying here?” “Yeah we’re coming,” said George before Fred could speak up. After George helped you out of the boat the three of you headed towards the seats higher up, where you spotted Lee. You walked up the stairs to see a few black-and-yellow scarves in the seats towards the back. “Hi, Y/N/N,” said Matt with a single wave, making Eric’s head shot up with a grin “Heey, Y/N!” Out of the corner of your eye, you saw that George’s head was still turned towards you when Fred took his seat next to Lee. “Hi,” you said with a smile and a little wave, then turned to Fred and Lee and took a seat with George. After the had jumped into the water and out of sight, you decided to make yourself comfortable – you took out a blanket and some snacks you prepared in the morning. The boys had noticed as you picked up the blanket to unfold it and laughed a little “Getting cosy, huh?” Fred said with an amused grin. “We’re gonna be here for an hour and it’s not like there’s anything to watch, really” you pointed at the water surface “might as well.” You brought your legs up and sat cross-legged and given how close you were sat, your knee rested on one of George’s legs. “does that bother you?” “No, it’s alright,” George thought it was cute, really, how you were getting comfy and covered your legs, but above all, he didn’t mind that bit of physical contact. “What- you’re not gonna share?” he acted appalled and looked at your blanket, then back at you. You rolled your eyes, suppressing a smile, then unfolded the blanket fully, covered his legs, earning a grin, and even threw it over Fred and Lee’s too. You picked up a bag of snacks and the four of you spent the remaining time chatting, playing some exploding snap, and you even managed to pull them into exchanging some gossip.

——————⁛⁙⁘◊⁘⁙⁛—————— March, 1995

After the second task, the three of your friends were in the spotlight, which sort of affected your life, too. But the real problem was the pile of work you ignored while helping Harry prepare. That’s how you found yourself, early Saturday afternoon, at one of the smaller tables in the common room with your notes and various books in front of you as the sun rays were shyly poking through the window, asking for attention before spring officially started.

You had been sitting there for some time now and felt like you should probably take a break as the information was becoming harder to understand and took longer to assimilate. But you also couldn’t bring yourself to pause, with still so much to go over and you tried not to panic each time you glanced at the ‘to-do’ pile.

You were leaning on the table and nervously fixed your ponytail, when a mug with steaming, familiar liquid was placed in front of you. You looked up to see George as he leaned back against the table.

“Lemon balm. You drink it often in the evenings.. helps with anxiety, right?” he said with a small smile as you stared at him in shock. “Yeah- yeah I do..” You looked down at the tea again. “Is that for me?” you asked, just to make sure, but George just shook his head in disbelief and laughed softly, which you took as a yes. “thank you, then” you took a sip. “Can I join you?” “Yeah, sure, of course”

He mentally high-fived himself. He saw you earlier, slouching over the books with a worried expression and realized he wouldn’t be able to just enjoy the rest of his Saturday if he didn’t do anything about it. Tearing you away from your work was out of the question – you were no Hermione but you had a sense of responsibility, so if you had to study, you would study.

His best bet was to make it easier for you. You were often found doing homework in study groups and you found working around others to be motivating, even if you were doing completely separate things. He had a bit of trouble deciding if revealing he knows your favourite herbal tea was cute or creepy but he took his chances. When you thought about it that evening in the shower you didn’t believe he was actually studying, but he pretended to, and it worked.

It made your heart flutter, thinking of how caring George was. He seemed to genuinely care, and you couldn’t help but want more of it. You loved the idea of him caring about you. Over the last few months you were almost positive he had -some- feelings for you, and you did too. But after that act, you realized, you started falling. Seriously.

——————⁛⁙⁘◊⁘⁙⁛——————

A week later, you stepped out of the great hall after lunch, headed to the dungeons with Matt, wrapped up in a conversation. “Ugh, he just doesn’t know when to shut up..” he said with hands in his pockets and you chuckled lightly “but I guess quidditch boys just can’t help themselves” he paused, his gaze straight ahead “like the Weasleys.” Oh-ho, if he said that name then he’s definitely in a bad mood. Your expression fell a bit. “They’re just obnoxious, I really don’t know why you keep hanging out with them.” “They’re not always that obnoxious, I know them well. They’re alright” He scoffed. “Alright… but they’re not like us.” You furrowed your eyebrows. Matt has been subtly hinting dislike towards the twins, or George in particular, and suggested you didn’t spend so much time with them before, but it was unlike him to act like an elitist shit. You stopped. “I like them.” “Yeah, that’s the problem, isn’t it? I think you got a bit confused. One of them might be thinking you like him a little too much.” He fake-smiled. You didn’t know what to say, and he looked you straight in the eye now “Cut it out Y/N, I mean it this time. I don’t want you hanging with them anymore.” “Well you don’t have a say in that, do you?!” You knew you hit a weak point. “You know what?! This whole thing was getting boring anyway.” You kept your voice even, as you were fuming inside. “We should end it before you think I like you a little too much. You can go fuck yourself, friend.” You turned around and with shoulders straight and you walked away in quick, long steps. He didn’t go after you.

It wasn’t until you reached the grand staircase that you slowed down a bit and allowed yourself to calm down. With each step, you were more glad you did what you did. When you stepped through the portrait you immediately realized Merlin still had your back. Fred and George, right there at the table. With your mind set, you walked up.

“Hi boys. You busy?” You sat down and they turned their attention to you. “Not really, what is it?” “I just wanted to hang out, I’m in need of a good time.” You said smiling at them both and they shared a look. “Flatterer,” said Fred, flicking his hair. “D’you wanna go outside?” asked George It was quite warm, so you nodded. “I’ll just run up to my room and grab a few things.”

When you came back George was waiting, lounging on the couch and Fred nowhere in sight. When he noticed you he jumped up and beamed at you “After me.”

You walked in comfortable silence for a bit, which you broke only after you left the castle. “Fred not coming with us?” you asked in a non-suspicious tone “Not this time, had something to take care of. Why, disappointed?” he teased you and you bumped his side earning a small laugh. “So, why were you in such a desperate need of a good time?” he tried to start a conversation. You were silent for a bit, thinking things over. “Matt and I had a fight.” you opted for honesty “Oh,” he tried not to sound hopeful. “I ended things with him. “ George raised his eyebrows “Did he do something? I thought you liked him.” “He didn’t do anything. He was okay, but that was it, really. And then he liked me too much.. and that was his problem.” you said looking down at the ground.

George tried not to be selfish, he was happy you came to him at that moment. He wanted to be there for you and not think too far ahead about how that would benefit him. But something about you saying Matt liked you too much was worrying.

“Not to whine, but I came to you hoping I wouldn’t have to think about it anymore” you looked up at him and brought him out of his thoughts. “Ugh- of course, erm..” he scratched the back of his head “There’s something I wanted to show you.”

You walked along the shore of the lake for a bit and took a turn to walk between some trees and found a steep pathway leading up a bit and back towards the lake. In the end, you found an opening between the thick trees and bushes, its edge a few meters above the edge of the lake. You took in your surroundings and found the spot cosy, you could also see the castle in the distance, though you could’ve sworn you had never seen this place from there.

“Like it?” George asked from behind you, standing with his hands in his pockets and shoulders slouched a bit. You turned around and met his warm eyes, your amazement etched into your expression. “Love it,” you said and immediately cringed a bit. But it warmed his heart to hear that, he hadn’t brought anyone there before.

“Yeah, I like it here.” He said walking up to the edge to look over it. “I don’t think many people know about this place, which makes it even better.” he turned back to you making the butterflies in your stomach go crazy. He took a seat on the ground near the edge and patted the spot next to him, which you took.

“Soo.. what do you wanna do?” He asked leaning back on his arms. Your mind went to a few possible options, none of them appropriate. “or we could just talk” he tried to take some pressure off of you. At that moment you remembered something and started looking through your bag. You took a deck of cards out and held them up

“You ever played ‘treachery’?” you smirked and wiggled your eyebrows a bit and he shook his head after a bit of thought. “We face away from each other,” you said as you shifted in your spot and he reluctantly followed. “Lean back.” “Like that?” he said pushing his back onto yours and in result folding you in half, earning half-groan half-laugh from you, before he sat normally. Feeling the warmth of his back on yours and the vibration of his voice made the experience surprisingly intimate. You were so close, but you didn’t see each other’s faces, which made both of you feel a little less self-conscious. You explained the rules of the game to him. He caught up pretty quickly and you played a few rounds before getting bored with it. Then you talked, about everything, and nothing really.

You sat on the edge with one of your legs dangling over, a wide smile plastered on your face. The early spring sun was slowly setting and your stomach started to remind you it was almost dinner time. Just a few more minutes, you thought to yourself.

On your way back, the steep path proved more difficult and you gladly accepted when George offered you his hand to take. However, when you reached the bottom, neither one of you let go. He slowly intertwined your fingers and the two of you continued to walk in silence along the lake. You had done things that would seem much more intimate before, but nothing felt quite like it. It was exciting and calming at the same time, it felt completely new but so natural and right.

As you approached the castle, the clocktower courtyard in sight and you could see other students walking about, you both, mutually, loosened the grip until you let go.

——————⁛⁙⁘◊⁘⁙⁛——————

April, 1995

Ever since George took you to your spot by the lake, you spent more time with him. He always took a moment to ask about your day and little things when he saw you around the school, and you felt more comfortable to just walk up to him to chat.

April Fools’ or twins’ birthday came on Saturday. You didn’t see them at breakfast and they sat far away during lunch. You still haven’t got the chance to wish him a happy birthday – a simple act you were quite looking forward to, to show that you cared and see his reaction. Mother Nature was being very generous with the weather, the early afternoon was quite warm and sunny and you took that opportunity to set up a blanket for yourself under one of the trees near the training grounds and read a bit.

You don’t turn seventeen every day and Fred and George took it very seriously. That’s why they had just stashed with Lee all the necessary party supplies in the boathouse to celebrate that night and were now headed back to the castle. George saw you lounging on the blanket, he noticed you from afar as if it became his seventh sense. He gazed at you for just a moment, his hands in the pockets of his shorts and felt a jab at his side.

“The fuck was that for?!” he grimaced at his snickering twin. “If you ask me, she looks as if she’s about to run away. You’d better catch her before she realizes you’re coming.” Fred said with fake seriousness, earning an eye-roll. However, George’s mind was too preoccupied for a witty comeback. “I’ll see you.. later.” “Just don’t embarrass me even more!” Fred shouted after him. When he walked up you closed the book on your finger and seeing his bright smile, you couldn’t not smile back.

“Hello,” you said enthusiastically. “Hi” he did a little wave, standing on the edge of your blanket. “Happy birthday” “Thank you,” you put a bookmark in your book and put it away, then sat up. You were silent for a bit and George shifted on his feet. “You’re just gonna stand there?” George’s mind went blank and you saw his shocked face as he opened and closed his mouth a few times “I mean that you can sit down if you want.” “Ooh,” he replied with a slight relief and quickly made himself comfortable on the soft blanket, the two of you now sat cross-legged, facing each other.

“So how is it being a responsible adult?” you asked making him snort “That’s likely.” You giggled, biting on your bottom lip, something George has grown to love. “What’re you reading?” he asked nudging your thigh with his foot lightly. “You really wanna know?” you asked, with a slight doubt, but you were excited to tell him a little bit about your interests. “I really wanna know.” He said, lying down on the blanket and looking up at the tree above. You started with telling him about the book you were currently reading, then you talked about what the two of you generally enjoy reading and then it just continued like it always did with him.

You quickly found yourself on the blanket next to him, looking up at the leaves swaying with the gentle wind and eventually his hand found yours, tracing patterns on your palm and playing with your fingers absentmindedly.

——————⁛⁙⁘◊⁘⁙⁛—————— May, 1995

You and the three of your friends crept out of your dormitories at daybreak near the end of May. It was really important for you to send an owl to Sirius. You were still debating the events of the previous night, what happened with Victor Krum and Mr Crouch when Hermione shushed you all. You heard footsteps going up to the owlery and two arguing voices.

The Owlery door banged open. Fred and George came over the threshold, then froze at the sight of you, Harry, Ron, and Hermione. “What’re you doing here?” Ron and Fred said at the same time. “Sending a letter,” said Harry and George in unison. “What, at this time?” said Hermione and Fred. At this point, you were looking all over everyone with narrowed eyes. Fred grinned. “Fine — we won’t ask you what you’re doing if you don’t ask us,” he said. He was holding a sealed envelope in his hands. Harry glanced at it, but Fred, whether accidentally or on purpose, shifted his hand so that the name on it was covered. “Well, don’t let us hold you up,” Fred said, making a mock bow and pointing at the door. Ron didn’t move. “Who’re you blackmailing?” he said. The grin vanished from Fred’s face. Harry saw George half glance at Fred, before smiling at Ron. “Don’t be stupid, I was only joking,” he said easily. You furrowed your eyebrows and kept listening. “Didn’t sound like that,” said Ron. Fred and George looked at each other. Then Fred said abruptly, “I’ve told you before, Ron, keep your nose out if you like it the shape it is. Can’t see why you would, but —” “It’s my business if you’re blackmailing someone,” said Ron. “George’s right, you could end up in serious trouble for that.” You agreed with it and was concerned about what they got themselves into. “Told you, I was joking,” said George. You felt disappointed. He walked over to Fred, pulled the letter out of his hands, and began attaching it to the leg of the nearest barn owl. “You’re starting to sound a bit like our dear older brother, you are, Ron. Carry on like this and you’ll be made a prefect.” “No, I won’t!” said Ron hotly. George carried the barn owl over to the window and it took off. George turned around and grinned at Ron “Well, stop telling people what to do then. See you later.”

You took one last look at him and it was like looking at a stranger, you’ve never seen his eyes this cold, then he and Fred left the Owlery. Harry, Ron, you and Hermione stared at one another.

“You don’t think they know something about all this, do you?” Hermione whispered. “About Crouch and everything?” “No,” said Harry. “If it was something that serious, they’d tell someone. They’d tell Dumbledore.” Ron, however, was looking uncomfortable. “What’s the matter?” Hermione asked him. “Well…” said Ron slowly, “I dunno if they would. They’re… they’re obsessed with making money lately, I noticed it when I was hanging around with them — when — you know —” “We weren’t talking.” Harry finished the sentence for him. “Yeah, but blackmail…” “It’s this joke shop idea they’ve got,” said Ron. “I thought they were only saying it to annoy Mum, but they really mean it, they want to start one. They’ve only got a year left at Hogwarts, they keep going on about how it’s time to think about their future, and Dad can’t help them, and they need gold to get started.” You and Hermione were looking uncomfortable now. “Yes, but… they wouldn’t do anything against the law to get gold.” “Wouldn’t they?” said Ron, looking sceptical. “I dunno… they don’t exactly mind breaking rules, do they?” You felt slightly sick. “Yeah but not that kind of rules.” “This is the law,” said Hermione, looking scared. “This isn’t some silly school rule… They’ll get a lot more than detention for blackmail! Ron… maybe you’d better tell Percy…” “And what would that change?” you said. “Are you mad?” said Ron. “Tell Percy? He’d probably do a Crouch and turn them in.” He stared at the window through which Fred and George’s owl had departed, then said, “Come on, let’s get some breakfast.”

——————⁛⁙⁘◊⁘⁙⁛—————— June, 1995

After the encounter in the owlery, you barely saw George or talked to him. It was the day of the third task. When you saw that the empty spot left for you was next to George you panicked a bit and felt stiff at first.

When Harry came out of the labyrinth with the Cup, the orchestra started playing and people cheered. But you felt something was wrong and felt a chill down your back – you noticed Harry’s face first and leaned forward to see what was on the ground next to him.

You felt faint and all the noise around you was muted. You stepped back without looking and stumbled a bit but George grabbed you. “He-he's dead…” you whispered still looking at Cedric’s body.

“What?..” George’s expression fell immediately as he brought you a bit closer and looked over the crowd to see for himself. “Ced’s dead..” said facing George. He took you in his arms and you hid your face in his chest, your hands clinging to his shirt tightly. He couldn’t get a word out, just held you tight and placed his chin on top of your head. The moment was interrupted as all the Weasleys started ushering out of the stands, Y/N and Hermione with them.

The next few days weren’t easy but you came to terms with the reality – Voldemort was back, he killed Cedric Diggory and you were certain the future of you and your friends would be challenging.

——————⁛⁙⁘◊⁘⁙⁛——————

With a few days left before you’d all leave for the summer, you and Hermione decided to enjoy the warm, sunny afternoon and lounged on the grass in one of the courtyards. The exams were done with and you forgot about all the danger for just a day.

You were soaking in the sun, your eyes closed, when suddenly you felt a shadow cast over your face. You opened your eyes to see George crouching beside you.

“Fancy taking a walk?” “Oooh but Hermione and I were having our gal pal time. Weren’t we, Miney?” You said with an exaggerated pout. She chuckled at you. “I think we went over every boy in the school,” she started getting up, “I’ll see you later.” “Bye, bye, girlfriend!” you waved to her and George helped you get off the ground.

“Was there something, in particular, you wanted to talk about?” you asked after you started walking. George bit his lip and looked straight ahead, “There is, but let’s go to the lake.” “Ok,” you said with a small voice, wondering where this was going.

“Were you avoiding me?” He asked once you got to the lake and kept walking along the shore. Were you? – you thought. “Something changed. You didn’t talk to me, you wouldn’t smile like you did before.” He said with genuine hurt in his voice. “I missed that.” he paused for a bit, “was it about the blackmail thing?”

You didn’t know what to say.

“because I didn’t tell you anything?” “Look, I know it was kinda stupid of me. You don’t owe me anything and you don’t have to tell me anything. And I didn’t avoid you.. on purpose.” you stopped and faced the lake, “I guess I just- I kinda hoped you would want to tell me, you know..?”

A few seconds passed and you turned back to see him looking at you. He looked at his shoes and took a deep breath, then held out his hand with a serious expression. You took the few steps towards him and took the hand you missed so much. You started slowly walking again. “Remember when we went to the World Cup?” he started. “Of course.” “And how Fred and I placed that bet?” You hopped up and walked along one of the larger rocks “…Ireland wins but the Bulgarians get the snitch – I remember. Brilliant by the way, I still can’t believe you got it.” you hopped down. George smirked for a second. “Brilliant indeed. You may or may not remember that we asked for our money right after the match ended. Old Ludo wasn’t happy with it, but eventually, he paid up.” you nodded “The catch is, he gave us leprechaun gold.” “Noo... What a dick!” you said in genuine disbelief. “I know,” he replied grimly. “Bagman seemed fishy, I think I heard my dad rant about him once, but that… “ “Yup. We tried getting him to pay up multiple times – nice at first, but he wouldn’t. And now he apparently up and vanished, so it’s over - a lost cause.” You were speechless for a second. “George, I’m so sorry. You gave him all your savings..” you moved even closer to him. “It’s alright.” He let go of your hand to wrap an arm around your shoulder, “we’ll just have to work even harder. But we’ll get there. Still got a year left in here.” “That’s right… You know I forget you’re older sometimes. But I’ll still be here for 2 more years after you graduate.” You looked up at the castle across the lake, in the distance. “It’s gonna be weird.” “How? Boring?” he asked, expecting a snarky response. “Yeah” you gave him an honest one instead. “Don’t worry, love, we’ve still got a year.” he squeezed you closer, making you chuckle. “Will you write to me this summer?” He asked. “Only if you write first.” “Have you got any parchment on you?”

With your moods significantly better, you headed to the Great Hall for dinner, the future suddenly not so scary anymore.

Part 5

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley imagine #harry potter imagine #x reader

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personasintro · 4 years

Text

My Tiny Secret | 16; We Meet Again

𝑴𝒚 𝑻𝒊𝒏𝒚 𝑺𝒆𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒕 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒃𝒃𝒍𝒆 | 16; We Meet Again

⏤𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔; Pretty face doesn’t make it up for an ugly personality. And Kim Seokjin is the perfect proof of that.

⏤𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: seokjin x reader

⏤𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: angst, smut, mistress au, unexpected pregnancy au

⏤𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: strong language

⏤> 𝒇𝒊𝒄 𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒙

buy me a coffee?♡

a/n: this is a continuation of the flashback from the previous chapter!

The next day is cloudy, the dark clouds are filling the bright sky while you're waiting inside of the coffee shop. But this time as a customer with a slight frown settled on your face.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Taehyung asks, wiping off the counter while he glances at you with a similar frown to your own.

You had to tell someone about your meeting with Seokjin and Taehyung was the perfect person for it. Considering Hoseok would flip out if you'd tell him you're about to meet some stranger who wants to talk to you about your missing father. Technically, you're the one who wants to talk to him.

You had to message him later in the night, asking about what time you should be waiting for him and his answer was six in the afternoon. The shop is closing in a few minutes and you really hope you're not being played right now. You came a little bit earlier which was probably mistake. You've been sitting on one of the bar stools for the last ten minutes feeling awfully nervous. It's not like it's a date, there's just something about that man that makes you feel like a teen having her first date. Some part of you is scared of him, because he is a still stranger to you. But as you promised, you googled him as soon as you got home. There wasn't much information about him, just some boring articles about how he owns a successful company that sells house estates. There were a few pictures of him from a couple of events but other than that, it seemed like he's a very private man.

“Don't worry, I'll be fine.” you smile at Taehyung, who holds a worried look on his face.

You didn't exactly tell him the whole story about the reason of your meeting with Seokjin, since you're not that close, but you told him enough to know that he has just something you need. Still, he's not stupid and you can see uncertainty behind his worried expression.

“You've my number, if anything happens just call me.”

You smile at that, thanking him right away. Checking the time you see it's exactly six in the afternoon, so you bid goodbye with a reassuring smile to worried Taehyung and make your way outside of the coffee shop. As on cue, a black sport car parks right in front of you causing your brows to furrow in confusion, but that's until the driver's window is rolled down and there's no one else than Kim Seokjin himself sitting in the car.

“You're right on time.” you note, trying not too hard to gawk at the shiny black exterior of the car.

You were never the type to observe cars that much, but even from your lack of knowledge you observe, knowing that car is probably more expensive than the small apartment you live in.

“I'm a man of word,” he tells you, the right corner of his lips twitching at that as you dryly gulp. “Now hop on, we got our reservation.”

You're quick getting into the car, having a fear of closing the door too roughly since most of the men are really sensitive about that. But once they smoothly close, your eyes widen at the interior that matches with the black color. The white lightening decorates the door, illuminating the whole space with a pinch of color while a huge touch screen is in the middle. A scent of leather and his cologne fills the inside and even the roar of the engine, once he drives away, is freaking awesome and hot.

Soft melody resounds from the speakers alongside with a beeping sound that makes your eyebrows furrow. The car stops at the red light and before you can look at Seokjin in confusion by the repeating sound, he's hovering over you as he puts your seat belt on. He smells so fucking good. You gawk at him, ignoring his confident smirk once he pulls away.

“You forgot your seat belt.” he comments, gripping the steering wheel with one hand while the other one rests against the window as he leans onto it.

“Thanks.” you mutter, wanting to roll your eyes at his cocky behavior but all you can do is to look outside of the window, with incredibly fast beating heart.

You're screwed.

You've never felt being so out of place like right now, in the same room with a bunch of people that look like they're from a magazine, causing you to look down at your outfit. You've chosen your best formal dress that you could find in your small wardrobe. You thought they look nice and fancy, until you've seen all those women wearing a designer dress.

“Are you okay?” Seokjin asks you, holding a door for you as you get into a more private area.

“Yeah, I'm just wondering..” you trail off, quietly thanking him for holding a door for you, before a waiter leads you to your table. “I look so out of place.” you admit, not knowing exactly why are you telling him this.

A few people turned back and stared at him as you both walked in. They probably wonder why a woman like you is with him right now.

“Is that what's bothering you?” he chuckles, sitting down on the opposite side of the table as you put your small purse down.

“Yeah,” you admit, “Just look at me.” you bitterly chuckle, biting your lip.

“I am.” he says slowly, causing you to look at him just to find him staring at you with so much intensity that makes you to look away.

“I've never been in such an expensive restaurant. Why the hell did you pick this one?” you frown, causing him to chuckle as he shakes his head.

“Well, you mentioned something about steaks and this restaurant is known for having the best ones in the city.” he effortlessly answers, snatching the menu from the table while you do the same.

You hide your flushed cheeks behind it, scanning the food with a frown before you see the actual price causing you to silently gasps. Growing embarrassed by your automatic reaction, it's even worse when your menu is being pushed down as you meet Seokjin's eyes.

“Is everything okay?”

You wonder if he makes fun of you, but it's incredibly hard to read him because he barely shows any emotion which makes you frustrated. You've never met a human so interesting, intimidating and strange at the same time. It's just reminder that you don't know this man at all. How come that you feel safe with him?

“Of course, Mr. Kim.” you tell him, snatching the menu again just to hide your face, trying to seem like you're picking your food.

“Seokjin,” he says, pulling down your menu again causing you to annoyingly sigh at him. “Call me Seokjin.”

“I don't know you.” you remind him, causing his lips to twitch.

“Yet, you're here with me.”

“That doesn't mean I know you.” you shoot back.

“Then it makes you foolish for coming here with me.”

“Did you just call me stupid?” you frown, glaring at the man in front of you that smirks in return.

“It depends on how you take it.”

Your blood boils, ignoring the light tone he has. Is he just trying to lighten up the mood, tease you or makes fun of you? It's so fucking hard to read him and understand him.

“Can I take your order, please?”

The waiter's voice resounds next to you, causing you to flinch. You hear Seokjin saying his order, while you quickly try to pick your own, since you were distracted with him this whole time. When your order is done, the waiter walks away but not before he politely bows at the both of you.

The next few minutes are filled with awkward silence, your nails gently tapping against the wooden table as you stare at the man in front of you. He surely feels your eyes on him, but he's effortlessly staring at his phone until he tucks it into his inside pocket of his suit. Sighing, he looks right back at you and it leaves you speechless for a moment.

“Spit it out,” he tells you, causing your brows to furrow in slight confusion. “You've probably got a lot of questions, so spit it out.”

It's almost funny how you got used to his blunt responses and sharp tongue. This man is cocky, mean and snobby.

“How do you know my father and why were you looking for him?” you ask straight away, spitting it out just as he requested.

He seems to be amused by your straight forwardness, chuckling under his breath before he licks his lips. “Your father used to work with me. He stole money from me and disappeared.” he answers, sounding as if he's talking about his day.

You open your mouth in shock, growing embarrassed by your father's actions. It makes sense he was looking for you, hoping he'd get some information. He thought you might knew where he might be. But why'd he spend his free time inviting you to this restaurant and fancy dinner, when you don't know anything. You really doubt it's because he wants to share any information with you. He could care less about someone like you – yet, here he is.

“Wait,” you speak up, eyeing him. “You don't believe me. You think I know where he is. That's why you've invited me to this dinner. You thought you'd get some information, not the other way around.”

Of course! It makes perfect sense.

And the fact he stays quiet and almost shamefully stares into his lap, confirms your assumptions. You scoff, ready to stand up when he mutters a quick 'wait!”.

“I don't know where my father is. He left me and my mother when I was still a kid and the last time I've seen him was two years ago, when he had the audacity to knock at my door and ask for money. I'm sorry to say this, Mr. Kim, but you're not getting any information out of me because I don't have any.” you tell him quickly, glaring at the man the whole time you speak as he sighs.

“I know that now, calm down.” he sighs again, probably disappointed that you're no help for him.

This man is really getting on your nerves, he has the audacity to tell you to calm down. You're going to smack his handsome face.

“Then what do you want?” you ask him. “Wait-- do you want me to give you the money he stole for you? Right? Is that it?” you fire all the questions at him, causing him to glare at you in annoyance.

“I don't think you've got that kind of money. No offense.”

“None taken.”

Actually, yes, you're offended but you stand your ground with head held high.

“Yes, I was hoping you know something. I'll admit that. I don't care if you know about your what has your father done and why I was looking for him, sorry not sorry. It's none of my business.” he admits, taking a sip of water before he puts it down.

You're gaping, fire burning inside of you at his honesty and plan that he had this whole time.

“You really only care about yourself, right?” you scoff, noticing how dark his eyes has become.

“You don't know me.” he says lowly, clenching his jaw as you can't help but stare.

Who the hell is this man?

But when you're ready to bombard him with another set of questions, or curse about his personality, you're stopped by a waiter bringing you your food. For a few minutes, you rummage through your food with a fork, a frown settled on your lips as Seokjin comfortably eats. Cheeks puffed as he calmly eats with no problem, before he swallows and looks up at you.

“Why are you the one who's chasing him? Aren't you supposed to go to the police or something?” you murmur, looking down at your untouched food.

“I probably should. But I wanted to find him and deal with this on my own. He'd be in a lot of trouble if I brought this to a police.”

For the first time of this night, you see at least some kind of light inside of his dark personality. You're so taken back, that you stay quiet and watch him eating instead.

“Are... are you going to tell police? Now that you can't find him.” you ask carefully.

You shouldn't care about the man who abandoned you and your mother, but he's still your father. And you're curious.

“Maybe,” Is all he says, before he eyes your untouched food. “And now eat. I'm not paying for it just for you to stare at it.”

Frowning, you want to curse at him but find yourself to actually taste the food. And it's the best food you've ever tasted, diving for another bite right away.

From the corner of your eyes, you see amused smirk on his lips but you ignore him, focusing your attention onto the food that you won't probably get to taste ever again.

taglist: <is in the comments> comment on the most recent chapter to be added to the taglist

#networkbangtan #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #seokjin x reader #kim seokjin au #seokjin smut #seokjin scenario #seokjin drabble #bts drabble series #personasintro

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arahul-abyssia · 3 years

Text

Looks like it's September again (already, somehow), so that means that it's Nintember again, which means I'll be writing again! Same dealio as last time, one story per five prompts, up to six writings total. (And I'll be putting most of each under a cut, because mobile users can't skip posts)

And for my first entry for @starprincesshlc and @jklantern 's wonderful little event, I shall once again be attempting to twist some modicum of continuity, characterization, and canon-compliance out of a world that clearly cares scarcely for all three.

The Great Act

~~ Art, Green, Dizzy, Fire, Strength ~~

It was the loud buzzing of his phone’s alarm clock that dragged him from his slumber. He awoke to find himself sprawled across the couch, which was in no way long enough for his lanky body and spindly legs. As he blearily reached out and slapped at the coffee table, hoping to find the rude device by pure luck, he also blearily reached out and slapped at his memories, trying to figure out what series of events had led him there. For a moment, they floated just out of reach, and then suddenly flooded back to him all at once.

Oh. Right. It’s all over.

Another sporting event had come and gone, and as usual, in spite of all the effort he put into training and practice, he had ultimately lost to the same people he always did. No matter the sport, no matter the plan, no matter the time, they always won. And why shouldn’t they? The heroes always win in the end, always securing victory against the villains.

And he was one of them: the purple-clad counterpart, mirror, and supposed rival to one of the land’s most revered figures. Meant to oppose, and meant to lose.

He was Waluigi.

The name still sounded absurd to him. He had no idea how two men whose names were ‘Mario’ and ‘Wario’ and who naturally served as near-perfect foils of each other, had managed to meet and form such a publicizable rivalry without any deliberate effort, but such was the case. However, the notion that the brother of one had his own doppelganger in the brother of the other (or cousin, they never did manage to keep that story straight), with the same dichotomies of name, body, and personality? That was simply and utterly ridiculous, far beyond even the realm of ‘too good to be true’. And yet, if anyone had caught on, they hadn’t made it known to him.

Lost in thought and routine, he realized he had reached and opened his wardrobe, where numerous sets of that purple hat, shirt, and overalls were staring him in the face. In a sickening sense, they were the centerpiece of a great work of art, the fabrication that was his entire public existence, the character that he and Wario had constructed so that he might further be the ‘evil counterpart’ to everyone’s favorite red-clothed fire-throwing hero. Mario was stout and a bit fat, Wario was stouter and fatter; Luigi was tall and a bit thin, so Waluigi was taller and thinner. Mario had an M as his emblem, Wario had an inverted M; Luigi had an L, so Waluigi had an inverted L. To any casual outside observer, it was perfect.

But unlike Mario and Wario, whose rivalry had been formed in their youth, Waluigi had never even met Luigi until Wario had made him his sporting partner. The most he had known of the legendary Mario Brothers was just that: they were legends, for the countless adventures and quests they went on. In truth, despite how much he played it up during each and every game, he bore no true grudge against the man he was supposed to hate; Wario had, for a time, convinced him that Luigi’s presence in the public eye was somehow detracting from his own, but he had long since realized that that wasn’t the case; in fact, it often seemed like Luigi himself was being snubbed by the public, with the vast majority of the glory placed upon Mario, no matter how much Luigi contributed.

And yet, despite his existence being little more than a convenient story, despite the stress that constantly acting like a jerk brought, and despite always losing at the games no matter what, none of it brought him any sadness: for all its ups and downs, he felt himself to be rather good at keeping up the act, and the sports were, at the end of the day, still fun.

So why do I still feel so… bad?

Routine and thought had once more brought Waluigi elsewhere, and he found himself once more on his couch, now dressed in his usual outfit, with some sort of drink in his hands, probably coffee or tea; he didn’t care to determine which at that moment. His eyes casually wandered around the room as he brought the mug to his lips.

Then, just as the liquid touched his tongue--apparently he had managed to make tea out of coffee beans--the answer came to him. All across the room’s walls and shelves was sporting equipment of every sort--tennis racquets, shin-guards, helmets, golf clubs, old kart wheels, giant dice blocks, a probably excessive number of deflated balls--and absolutely no other sort of decoration. He leaned forward to place the mug on the table, and in doing so noticed his gloved hands and violet sleeves. Who wore the outfit of a character that they supposedly were not, every single day? Apparently, him.

He didn’t do anything else. He had let the character that was Waluigi consume his life to the point that had no idea who he was outside of it. He had nothing that he did when sports weren’t involved. Wario didn’t dedicate all his time to his rivalry; he owned an entire video game company--an unstable and poorly-run one, certainly, but it was nevertheless another use of his time. Mario and Luigi had their own grand adventures, of course, which is also what Peach, the Yoshis, Bowser, and his horde of minions were all typically involved in.

They all had lives outside of the games, and what did he do during the interim times? He either tried to practice, on his own, in the few suitable locations that he could find when the world was arranged for adventure, in a vain attempt to not lose as bad when the next game came around, or he wallowed in his home, doing absolutely nothing of any import.

But what could he do? Waluigi was never anything beyond a fabricated counterpart to both Wario and Luigi, but he could not remember, even slightly, what or who he was before he embraced that role. That nearly all of his memories prior to his first meeting with his partner were lost to him, was, he shuddered to admit, rather unsettling. Not even his old name--if he even had had one, he could not recall anymore--would reveal itself to him, and it was not as though he could simply find out through some external means: he was never the best at record-keeping, and to really sell their act, he had had his name legally changed to “Waluigi” and all references to his previous identity erased.

He shook his head, attempting to clear his mind of thoughts. There was little sense in worrying and fretting over who he was in that moment--the chance of any sort of useful epiphany emerging from it was even slimmer than he was.

Ugh… better just try to distract myself…

The first suitable option to catch his eye was the TV remote lying on the table. He quickly grabbed it and flicked on the set, and was immediately assaulted by the cheery enunciation of the Lakitu news anchors on the aptly-named Lakitu News Channel. He recalled that that was the channel he had left the set on last night, after he had gotten quite fed up with the incessant and inane blathering about the events of that day’s final matches, and it took only about five seconds to figure out that they were still on that topic. Scowling, he began flipping through the various channels available, hoping to find something interesting enough to block out the melancholic thoughts that were biting at his mind, like a hundred tiny Muncher and Nipper Plants.

After a painfully long series of more newsrooms--all talking about the exact same thing, of course--and unappealing shows--Half of these are for children and other half would just make me feel even worse!--he stumbled across some sort of advice segment hosted by a Birdo (was it the Birdo? He couldn’t tell). With absolutely no better options, he resigned himself to sit back and listen halfheartedly to whatever trite tips she tried to provide; maybe they’d be amusing enough to at least give him a small chuckle.

“I hope you all enjoyed our lovely guest! Now, before we move on to the submissions from all you wonderful viewers, I’d like to reiterate some old, but tried and true, advice, which I hold very close to my heart.”

Oh, here we go…

“Something which you probably hear very often is to always be yourself, or to always be true to yourself…”

Feh, I can think of several people who definitely shouldn’t do that…

“But it may be that you don’t like who ‘yourself’ is, or perhaps you don’t know what self you even have to be true to…”

Hah! As if… uh…

“And to that end, I’d like to say that there is always room for change. There’s always a way to make something new of yourself, to alter the parts of you that you want to, to become a different, better person. ‘Yourself’ can be whoever you want it to be; never are you locked along one unending bleak path. Try new things! Experiment! Don’t let yourself be trapped in an endless cycle.

“Believe me when I say I have personal experience with this: I’ve done so many different things over a rather short period of time, trying to find what I wanted to do with myself, who I wanted to be. Even now, I’m still not entirely sure if this is my supposed ‘calling’…! But I never got anywhere by doing nothing: it was on me to break out of my shell and search for myself, and now it’s on you to do the same.

“You don’t have to begin drastically, with a flying leap of faith--I think we’ve all walked over enough cliffs by now to know that!--but, if this is the sort of mindset you find yourself in, why not try taking some small steps today? It could be as simple as wearing a new outfit, or talking to someone new, or partaking in a new pastime.”

Birdo continued to elaborate on her point, but Waluigi--or, whoever he was beneath that--had stopped listening. He wanted to make some snark about what she said; he wanted to rationalize how what she described couldn’t ever apply to him; but, he found that he couldn’t. He had attempted to follow similar advice long in the past, and failed, but something about the way she phrased it, managed to affect him more deeply than he had thought possible. It was as though her words had dug beneath his shields and layers and pierced something somewhere in his core; pulled a lever, turned a handle, flipped a switch.

A strange sensation washed over him, one he could only describe as a blazing fire--nay, an inferno--igniting within him. He had felt the touch of flame countless times over the years, but not even the innumerable rage-fueled volleys he had endured, all combined into a single force, could compare to what now burned in his soul.

He leapt up from the sofa and ran to his bathroom. Staring at him from within the mirror was a character, a costume, a facade. It was not who he was. He grabbed a towel, dampened it, and proceeded to scrub away the pink paint on his nose; Wario and Waluigi’s noses were defined by that bright rosy color, but his was not. He then tore open a cabinet and grabbed his bottle of mustache product; normally, it was used to create the signature angular mustache of Waluigi, but today, it would shape the hairs into something softer and curlier. Whether that was what he would ultimately like did not matter: he was experimenting! He was changing himself!

Though the man that stared back at him from the glass now bore a much different visage, it was still framed by the purple cap and shirt, yellow emblem, and dark indigo overalls. He tore them off, then opened his wardrobe once more and threw all the copies of that same outfit to the ground. Hidden behind them were old clothes that he hadn’t worn for many, many years. He grabbed the first garments he saw--a casual dress shirt and gaudy neon-yellow shorts. Did those go well together? It didn’t matter. Without hesitating, he put them on.

He quickly glanced in the mirror again: the ensemble was nearly complete, but just missing one last touch. He thought on it for a moment, then stricken with brilliance, hurried to his modest backyard, where the roses he performed with in the games grew. He plucked one from its bush and affixed it to his hair, then ran back to the mirror to observe himself one more time.

His mismatched get-up would likely garner many stares from others, though he wouldn’t mind them at all; if he had anything in common with Waluigi, it was that they both loved being the center of attention. Even still, that’s not what mattered. A whole new day lay before him, a whole new day to be someone new, someone different; to move on from the cycle he had been stuck in, to take a whole new step forward.

He returned to the sitting room and turned off the television, then went to the front door. Taking a deep breath, he turned the handle, threw it open, and marched into the daylight, the daylight which felt far fresher and warmer than it had in a long time, though even it held no candle to the flame that continued to blaze within him.

Ready or not, world; here I come!!

#nintember #my writing #godss there were so many directions i thought about taking this #eventually had to just choose and commit to one #straight up wrote a great deal of a different take before scrapping it #writing is... a time

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whynotwinnie · 3 years

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Timida part 3: Roger Taylor x OC

sorry it took so long college is kicking my ass rn but thank you for all the support y’all have given me i’m going to start writing the next part rn thank y’all - bennie <3

T/w: body dysmorphia, talks of anxiety and depression, cussing

MICKEY

Throughout the night you woke up a total of 4 times getting frustrated you sat up and stared at the clock 4:13 in the afternoon. You flopped back on the bed, you should’ve gone to bed earlier.

You swung your legs to the edge of your bed and hopped down popping your back as you made your way to your shower. You turned on the hot water and let it run while you stripped yourself of your clothes. You turned yourself toward the mirror staring at your body, oh it was going to be one of those days. You turned from side to side checking your figure and felt the tears start to form in your eyes.

You stepped into your shower and started to cry while the hot water hit your back. You always got these weird mood swings where you felt like shit and wanted to hide from the world, you would say these mood swings happened at least once a week. You know you probably needed some type of help for it but as of right now you didn’t have the time or the funds to deal with that.

You spent a little extra time in the shower resulting in the hot water running out and turning freezing cold. You groaned and turned it off grabbing a towel to dry your body, when you were leaving the restroom you made sure to avoid looking in the mirror.

You grabbed a different big t-shirt to use as pajamas and threw on a random pair of house shorts and headed to your work area to finish whatever orders you didn’t start on last night.

Making quick work with the simple alterations you sat bored after folding the last article of clothing nicely. You got up from your desk and walked around your small apartment trying to find something to keep you occupied until it was time to call Roger.

Deciding you should make an early dinner you went to your kitchen area in your flat. The flat itself was small and the only way you could describe it was tolerable. It was one bed, one bathroom flat the only reason why you ended up signing your lease was that it was cheap and had an open living room area so you can set up all your work stuff there. But that also meant that your living room was always a mess with scrap fabric on the floor, 2 working mannequins plus the broken one being propped up by the wall, your huge old sewing machine that was way too loud, and a wardrobe that you found on the street that you cleaned and kept some spare fabric and clothes in.

You decided that you were going to make chicken and rice, you would’ve had beans but you ran out a week ago and never got the time to go get groceries. As you seasoned your chicken you made a promise to yourself that you would go get groceries tomorrow.

Then your phone rang.

“Shit,” you said while you left your chicken on the stove, quickly checking the time before you answered 6:05 it seemed too early for it to be Roger.

“Hello?” you said to the phone wondering who it could be.

“Mickey?”

“Oh hey Roger, I wasn’t expecting you to call this early,”

“Yeah, sorry about that.” he signed into the receiver “Remember when I told you yesterday how we had a really good practice, well today was shit.”

“I’m sorry about that Roger, what happened?”

“Well, Brian and I couldn’t get on the same page to save our lives he kept insisting that there needed to be a guitar solo in every fucking song when there really shouldn’t.”

He kept his rant going for a few minutes talking about solos and songs you just tried to keep up with the names and strange vocabulary he was using. It wasn’t until you started to smell burning when you remembered your chicken on the stove.

“Fucking shit hold on Roger.” you dropped the phone and ran to the chicken taking the pan off the burner. The chicken was black on the bottom and stuck to the pan.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you did your best to scrape the chicken in the trash but some stayed stuck you would have to deal with that later. You turned your rice off before that could burn too, you guess rice for dinner would do.

You threw the pan in the sink and turned on the water and watched the steam come off the pan, you never had this happen before you were a pretty good cook it came naturally after your mother made you help her cook for your whole family. But burning something if she could see you now she would be so disappointed, well she’s always disappointed in you nothing you could do to change that.

You turned off the water and went back to the phone.

“Hey sorry about that.” you sighed into the phone

“Is everything okay Mickey? You really had me worried.”

“Everything is fine now I had started making chicken right before you called and I didn’t keep an eye on it but now it’s burnt.”

“This is all my fault, I bored you with all my stupid problems.”

“No, you didn’t! I should’ve known better.”

“You have to let me make it up to you.”

You paused for a second. “Don’t be silly it’s just chicken.”

“Let me take you for dinner.”

“I- When?” you said softly

“Right now.”

You didn’t say anything, you weren’t ready or anything like that.

“Unless you don’t want to go that’s okay too.”

You panicked “No, I would love to it’s just that I look like a mess right now.”

“I bet you’re lying, I want to see you Mickey please let me take you for dinner. If not for me then for the poor chicken you just burned.”

You laughed. “Okay then.”

“Great, what’s your address I’ll pick you up.”

You stopped, was it smart to give him your address? No.

“Or we can meet there Mickey. I’m fine with either.”

You didn’t have a car, you knew how to drive and all that but after one time where your mom yelled at you for making too sharp of a turn you always got nervous when you got behind the wheel. So you walked or biked everywhere now.

You decided to give him your address and in the worst-case scenario maybe Dayla would tell the police it was Roger who murdered you. But you doubt that would happen. He said he’ll be there in fifteen and that you didn’t live far from each other.

You rushed to get ready putting on black jeans and another t-shirt much like the same outfit you first saw him in except this time you decided to put on a little mascara and to fill in your eyebrows.

While you were tying your shoes you heard the buzzer “Hey Mick it’s Roger can you buzz me in?”

Your heart fluttered at the new nickname he had for you “Yeah Roger, I’ll meet you down there.” as you buzzed him in.

You practically ran to the elevator cursing it for taking so long and once it opened at the lobby you saw him there looking extremely good and with flowers in hand.

“Roger!” You called him over.

“Hey Mick, these are for you,” he said as he handed you a bouquet of carnation flowers.

“Thank you so much!” you said as you grabbed them he looked down at you and you leaned into him for a short embrace.

“Would you like to come up for a bit so I can put these in water,” you asked hoping he wouldn’t get the wrong idea.

“Yeah of course.”

You both took the elevator back to your floor in comfortable silence and then you walked him to your door.

“It’s a bit of mess right now and it still smells burnt.” You said as you opened the door.

He took a look around as he walked in “I like it.”

“You don’t have to lie Roger.” you laughed as you filled a vase with water.

“I’m not I like it, it’s cozy even with the burnt smell,” he said as he grinned at you.

“Please don’t remind me.” You groaned as you set the flower vase on the small dining table you had.

He laughed and walked toward your living room “Oh wow.”

“Yeah, that was the mess I was talking about.” you cringed at how it must look.

“This is where you work?”

You shook your head yes.

He walked to the dress you made last night hanging on the mannequin.

“Did you do this?” he asked eyes wide.

“Yeah.”

“Like you made it made it, not like hemmed it or anything,” he said not believing you.

“Yeah, look.” you flipped the back of the dress to show the custom made tags your aunt had made for you when you lived with her. The tag said “Luci’s Attire” it was the best idea you had at the time.

“Wow, this is really good Mickey like for real.”

You grinned at him it felt good being seen.

“Thank you, Roger.” You smiled at him.

“Hey, before we go is it okay if I use your bathroom before we go?”

“Yeah of course.” You led him to the bathroom and told him you would be in the living room.

You decided to crack open a window to help get rid of the burnt smell feeling less nervous about hanging out with Roger.

You both left your apartment building shoulders touching feeling the cool September air blow through your hair. He opened the door to his car with a huge smile on his face. You gave a soft thanks and sat in his car.

The car itself was really nice probably the nicest car you have ever been in. The outside was painted in a sleek black and the inside leather was all red. You were honestly scared to touch anything so you kept your hands on your lap. Roger got in the driver’s seat and turned to you.

“Is it okay if we go to this place I know they serve the best Italian food.”

“The best?” you said with an eyebrow raised.

“Well, the best I had, actually maybe we should go somewhere else.” He said while reversing.

“No, I would like to go actually.” You said laughing

“I don’t think it’s a good idea now Mick-”

“Please Roger.” You said with a pleading voice.

He did a quick double-take at you and gave a small smile.

He turned the dial of his radio to change the channel.

“What kind of music do you like listening to?” he asked

“Can I be honest?” you said low

“Yes please.”

“I like American music.” You said laughing.

“AMERICAN MUSIC! Mickey you have got to be kidding me!”

“I’m sorry Roger I don’t know why I’m just obsessed with America for some reason.”

“Mickey we are probably living in the best era of music in Great Britain and you choose America. It’s simply not patriotic of you.”

“Well, I’m not from the UK Roger! Also, I could’ve sworn you put on more of an accent than you really have on ” you said laughing

“I did not! Don’t change the subject either!”

“Yes, you did you said ‘Amerikah’ like you were the Queen herself.”

“Ok maybe but come on Mickey!”

“I like music from here too, the first song I heard that was in English was the Beatles.”

“And you think American music is better?!”

“Just purely because I have this fascination with America. And I do like music from here and Spain and Italy it has nothing to do with-”

“Alright alright alright, but I’ll show you some real music.”

He pulled into the Italian restaurant and of course, it was named “Giovanni’s Italian Restaurant” You almost rolled your eyes.

“Let’s go,” he said with a smile as he opened your door for you.

Taglist <3: @johnricharddeacy

#Queen #queen band #queen smut #queen fluff #queen imagine #rogertaylor #roger taylor fanfic #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor smut #roger taylor fluff #ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy smut

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astrovian · 3 years

Text

ranking daniel miller outfits because apparently I have nothing better to do right now

an extremely long one y’all, so it’s under the cut

started at the bottom, now we’re.... still here at the bottom of the list

the running outfit. y’know. that one

look, I know it’s the middle of winter in Berlin and Daniel’s doing his best, but there is something about this that is just not that great. still looks 100x better than my running outfit but I think it’s the beanie that really gives this last place. or is it the double beanie? either way, not an outfit I would wear to try and romance my girl in (even if you are exercising with them). the only real redeeming feature of the outfit is the black turtleneck all zipped up

1.8/10

the sneaky sneaky boy outfit

the perfect outfit for the job because it’s completely unremarkable. the ‘hood over cap’ combo makes me expect to see a 20 year old hacker skulking about under there, but wait - surprise... it’s a handsome middle-aged man?

RA can rock a cap or hood but the double-combo just doesn’t do it for me. I guess I can be happy the third hood isn’t up as well to form a trifecta?

Daniel may need to be sneaky to do his job but I would argue that if I saw a man with a hood over his cap in broad daylight chilling in a cemetery I would have more questions than if I just saw a regularly dressed man chilling in a cemetery in broad daylight

3/10

almost every s1 suit

look, RA looks fantastic in a suit and no one is disputing that. I’m just saying that this is about as bland a suit and tie combo as it gets and from my recall of season one we see this almost every single time he’s in the station.

this one is even a bland grey. grey has it’s place but in the office it can turn into a bit of a snooze. mix up your office-wear & make it fun Daniel. wear a cool-coloured tie. put some funny socks on.

4/10

the casual summer businessman

something bothers me about this. is it the combo of the untucked shirt and the khaki pants? on their own either is fine

or is it just that this is one of the first times we see Daniel and the look has almost no personality to it? who knows

4.1/10 (for the unbuttoned collar and rolled-up sleeves)

the casual summer businessman goes to a bbq

almost the exact same outfit as the casual summer businessman, but the shirt’s a different colour which somehow makes it a lot better

this man wouldn’t look out of place at a bbq, which is a great choice from the styling team considering Daniel actually wears this to the team bbq in the show

4.5/10 solely for just being a bit plain and boring

I’ve finished filing those papers you wanted

no tie and one undone button? Daniel, you tease!

4.6/10

sneaky sneaky boy part 2

this is what I’m talking about. I still find people wearing caps indoors incredibly suspicious for someone trying to blend in (possibly because I was raised to believe that hats were an outdoors only look) but Daniel looks like a grown man and no longer looks like he should be a 20 year old hacker. success!

4.6/10 for an ultra-casual Daniel

I’m just here to file some papers and get paid

see? same suit every time. at least this one’s a nice black which is an upgrade from the grey and really suits RA

4.7/10

every day is a work day if you try hard enough - the winter edition

a non-matchy-matchy blue tie! a winter coat! a turned up collar! it may not be exciting but at least now we’re cooking

in all fairness though, our coat is quite dull and anonymous and the only real notable thing about it is the choice to keep the collar upturned. nothing to write home about if it wasn’t for the RA attached to it

4.7/10

every day is a work day if you try hard enough - the winter edition pt. 2

the hooded coat makes for a nice relaxation of the business suit. other than that, not much to say.

4.73/10

once more unto the (lapel) breach

we find ourselves having to ask: is Daniel Miller really Daniel Miller if his coat lapel isn’t popped?

this the FBI man who turns up at your house to either arrest you or escort you to safety. oh, sorry, CIA I guess given the context of the show

looks great because of RA being the one wearing it but a fairly mundane look

4.8/10

up, up, and away

bicycle Daniel was a nice look which I wasn’t expecting out of this show. mainly because I have never ever in my life seen a man in a suit on a bike.

in NZ they all use cars and at the very least bike in casual clothes then get changed at work. is biking in suits a European thing?

there’s absolutely nothing special or spectacular about the clothes, but put Daniel on a bike and it works really well?

maybe it’s the cape effect or leather gloves. or even just the notion of seeing a fully-dressed business man in a suit whiz by you on a bicycle.

whatever it is, it’s appreciated

4.8/10

the party boy

in s1 Daniel has only one look if he’s going out on the town - he ditches the tie & opens two buttons (or three if he’s feeling saucy)

I’ll never complain about this this look because let’s be honest, who would, but we also need to face reality that, like his suits, it’s also a bit repetitive and lacks a bit of something after seeing it for the 5th episode in row

4.9 /10

it might be time for you to go to bed

the party boy has finally lost his ‘I’m too cool for you’ vibe and partied his jacket and several shirt buttons off (quite literally). bonus points for the completely rumpled shirt and hair

the only thing that is eye-catching in this outfit is the skin it reveals

4/10

puzzle time *finger guns* (to anyone who didn’t grow up in New Zealand quoting this ad I apologise)

now this is a Daniel I would sit down and do a puzzle with. which is probably a good thing as he is quite literally solving a puzzle in this scene

5/10 for evoking the correct feeling from the audience but otherwise there is nothing special here

is mission impossible hiring?

the gloves? the backpack? the jacket and zipped sweater? you see this man and know your mainframe is about to be hacked

not the worst. but not the best. love the zipped sweater, could lose the gloves.

5.5/10

let’s get cozy

now this is a dapper fellow. the thin black scarf? brilliant with the signature coat collar

a Daniel who would probably lend you his coat or scarf if you complained about the cold

5.6/10

someone who would feed the ducks at the park

this is how to put in RA in a baseball cap. the subtle tartan of his scarf, which is tied in a knot? the perfect winter spy outfit

this is a Daniel you want to go on walks in a park with.

5.8/10

uncle Daniel goes on a trip to the mall

the more I look at that jacket the more I appreciate it. It’s a stunning blue which makes a nice contrast to the usual dull grey of his sweater and is a colour that looks great on RA. It even has some quilting for added interest

5.96/10

he’s the ‘fun uncle’

the warm sweater and scarf? this is the uncle who takes you out to do fun things while you’re supposed to be grounded and tells you not to tell your mom

nothing amazing in this outfit but also nothing to complain about considering it’s in s1. a funner, casual side to Daniel we don’t often see (am I bitter about never seeing his cousin and her son after s1? a little)

a solid 6/10

hope is fragile and also a black sweater

the fact that we never see this sweater on its own is what lets it down here

putting that to one side, the snuggly sweater? the green bomber jacket? this is a classic s2 Daniel look. but hang on - this is from s1?

Daniel’s letting us know via this s1 outfit that it will all be good in the near future if we can just hang on until he gets his s2 wardrobe

6.1/10 for providing hope for the future

hello? it’s your future ex-boyfriend calling

this man isn’t Daniel Miller - he’s a career model who can GET IT and he knows it

6.6/10

comfy sweater boy

so simple but so, so, so good

this is a Daniel I would want to cuddle up on a couch with. he’s a soft boy who wouldn’t hurt anyone and probably makes a great hot chocolate

6.7/10

comfy sweater boy goes for a walk outside

the colour of his sweater goes nicely with the coat. and once again: is he really Daniel Miller if his collar isn’t popped?

he loses 0.1 of a point for losing a bit of the soft boy look that the sweater just by itself brought to the party

6/10

comfy sweater boy ran out of hot chocolate at his so comes round to your place for takeaway

I just really enjoy the colour of this sweater, okay? the easy, layered sweater look? the takeaway chinese? this is a man after my heart and I’m also pretty sure I’ve worn this exact outfit before

6.1/10

if looks could kill

leather jacket? perfect. but what really brings this together? the black v-neck of course. RA never wears enough v-necks

‘nuf said

6.9/10

the Adam Price moment

this is one of the rarest of cases - a s2 outfit that wasn’t a 100% hit for me. everything about this outfit slaps except for the polo shirt

blue bomber jacket? hell yeah. hidden orange detailing on the inside? that’s what I’m talking about. colour combo of shirt and jacket? well done

polo shirt itself? meh. even if it was just a plain polo that would have been great. for some reason the embroidered logo and collar stripes push me over the edge

I don’t know why but whenever I see a man in a polo shirt like this, I immediately think they are heading to the golf course and are probably not the type of person I would chill with (given that I don’t play golf)

on Adam Price? sure. on Daniel Miller? nah, he knows better

7/10 (mainly for the bomber)

guess who’s back? back again. Adam’s back. tell a friend

I know this is lower ranked than most of the outfits on this entire list but is still found at the upper end of this list. That’s ‘cause it just had to come after the Adam Price moment, okay?

they took everything that was wrong with the Adam Price moment (e.g. the entire polo shirt) and then focused our attention on it

it doesn’t matter how tightly it clings to RA’s body, it’s not overriding my unjustified hatred of polo shirts

3.5/10

I’m here to make important calls while I dine in a fine restaurant

another updated suit look post-s1. I picture this Daniel eating at a nice Italian restaurant for lunch before returning to work for an important business conference

and is that a textured shirt I spy? well done

7.3/10

the shirt is even better without the jacket.

the undone buttons? c’mon

it’s just a nice shirt okay

7.5/10

comfy sweater boy’s older brother

for one thing, those low-slung sweatpants are a blessing and didn’t get enough screen time.

then on top of that the oversized shirt that drapes in just the right and most comfy way? the bare feet? I would call in sick to work if I saw Daniel wearing this outfit in my house

this is a Daniel who has lost comfy sweater boy’s innocence but who I would still wanna cook food and binge netflix with

this is absolute peak comfy Daniel

a well-deserved 7.8/10

the ‘I can’t believe I wasted so much time with the same suit and coat combo over and over in s1′ Daniel

this Daniel is the sum of everything that is wrong with s1 Daniel and everything that is right about s2 & s3 Daniel

the casual suit jacket. the rolled up sleeves. the loose casual shirt. this is a Daniel who works hard but knows how to have a good time and will 100% seduce you in a foreign city

8.5/10

come to the dark side

the same as the ‘I can’t believe I wasted so much time with the same suit and coat combo over and over in s1′ Daniel but with his classic coat and popped collar for some added mystery to the character

like the ‘I can’t believe I wasted so much time with the same suit and coat combo over and over in s1′ Daniel this man will 100% seduce you in a foreign city but also will not hesitate to use his superior strength to pin you against a wall while he makes out with you

8.59/10

I mean...

I’m not sure you can class underwear as an ‘outfit’ as such, but uh.... sorry, what was I saying? I got a little distracted

I refuse to put a numerical rank on this/10

don’t tell your dad about this one

I know we’ve established that underwear is not really an outfit, but these are pants so I’m gonna say this one counts.

the undone belt? the obvious shirtlessness? hanging with this man will definitely end with someone in jail (and it won’t be him). but at least it’ll be a fun ride on the way down to hell

i refuse to assign numerical value to the semi-naked ones because that’s not fair on the other outfits/10

is he here to fix a car, murder someone or sweep me off my feet? who knows and honestly who cares when he looks like that?

the khaki jacket brings in some ruggedness which tip-top Daniel below is missing while still keeping it effortlessly cool.

this is Daniel. fucking. Miller and he doesn’t care what you think

99.99/10

tip-top Daniel

this is Daniel right at his peak.

everything - the casual bomber from the Adam Price moment earlier, the plaid shirt, the undone buttons, the aviators. the HAIR.

Damn, Daniel. Damn.

100/10

#i 100% expect everyone here to disagree with me #richard armitage #daniel miller #berlin station

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lawandorderimagines · 3 years

Text

SVU Squad With a Detective Who Has a Soft Girl Aesthetic (fem reader)

@infiniteoddball @storiesofsvu

“Hey guys, I’m going on a food run. Anyone want anything?” You offered to pick up Chinese food from the place down the street and you wrote the orders down on a piece of purple notebook paper and grabbed your coat and bag before getting on the elevator. Once the elevator doors closed, Amanda collapsed into her chair; it was a surprisingly slow day at Special Victims Unit and all anyone had to do were mountains of paperwork. “Well, she seems... nice,” the blond detective offered. You had only been at SVU for only a few weeks after transferring out of Vice and Olivia had you partner up with Amanda, and while she thought you were nice, she also felt that there was something off about you.

And apparently, Olivia and Fin felt the same way. Fin was the first to break the awkward silence. “Are we sure this is one of the best officers in Vice? She doesn’t look like a cop. She’s too... soft.” “C’mon guys, she’s young, just give her time to mature a little bit. Her captain back in Vice said she’s young, but shows a lot of potential. And you gotta admit, she’s one hell of a runner,” Olivia responded in your defense. Truthfully, the Captain loved your presence at SVU and thought you were a breath of fresh air, even if you are a little unconventional in your ways.

“I’m just sayin’, I ain’t ever seen a rookie write notes in glitter gel pens or have pink and purple office supplies,” replied Fin. Amanda looked over at your desk and indeed, there were pastel colored office supplies. There was lavender desk calendar that took up a good amount of space on your desk with important dates scribbled on, a baby pink cup that held pens, pencils and markers in various colors, and finally, the sky blue tray that held papers and a confetti stapler. Amanda knew that in the drawers there would be pastel mini notepads and notebooks. She thought it suited you, not that she was gonna say that out loud.

Meanwhile, you sat at a table waiting for your number to be called. You passed the time by coordinating plans with your mom and younger sister for the holidays that were coming up; the two of you would be spending them in France with your dad and new stepmother. When your number was called, you paid with a fifty dollar bill and smiled in thanks to the woman who handed you the brown paper bag. Winter was clearly in full effect in New York as you gripped your jacket tighter with your free hand. Riding up in the elevator, you checked the messages you might have missed from your walk back to the precinct; your flight confirmations for you and your sister, your sister dropping subtle “hints” about her presents, and your mom complaining about grandma’s new beau which you just rolled your eyes at.

When the elevator dinged open, you expected to see the squad still sitting at their desks flipping between paperwork but they were gone. Did a call come through? You saw that the blinds to Liv’s office were down, maybe you’d peek your head in just to make sure, but then you heard voices. “I know Y/N isn’t what we’re used to but she’s doing a great job so far. And besides, we need all the help we can get,” Olivia said, and she sounded tired. They’re talking about you.

You felt bad for listening in on their conversation, but at the same time, you were curious as to what everyone thought about you, that is until it was Fin’s turn to talk. “She seems like she’ll be better suited for a kindergarten classroom.” You automatically knew he was referring to your desk and wardrobe choices and you looked down to examine your outfit: a white striped turtleneck, a pair of jeans, and the diamond half moon shaped necklace. Seemed innocent enough. Then you heard your partner laugh.

“She dresses like an off duty Disney princess.” You felt your eyes prick with tears and willed them back; Disney princesses were pretty badass in your book. You decided you heard enough and knocked a little too loudly on the door, it would be better if you acted as if you hadn’t heard anything. “I’m back! Come and get it!” You pulled your container of egg drop soup and brought it to your desk and got a bottle of tea with some of the change in your pocket. For the next twenty minutes, you switched in between the family group chat and writing off paperwork. You didn’t speak to anyone either as the classical ballet music flowed from your headphones to your ears.

After three hours, Olivia declared that it was getting late and she had to get home to Noah, so now it was just you, Amanda and Fin. You were finally on the last page and you were just about to fill in the blank spaces when someone cleared their throat. You didn’t care about anything except finished your work so you could get home; you had already missed dinner, pizza night, and your mom texted you that she saved two slices for you. “Y/N, you got a minute?” It was Fin, and he and Amanda were standing at your desk; you quickly paused the music that was playing and yanked the earbuds out.

“Sure. What about?” There was only one last section and it wouldn’t even take you long to complete, plus you were tired and wanted to get home, wash the day off, get into your favorite pair of pjs and watch the late night Golden Girls marathon on the Hallmark Channel. “About what you heard earlier... we didn’t mean anything by it.” You snorted; isn’t that what they all say when they get caught? A part of you was telling you to let it go, keep the peace, but another part was telling you to choose violence, and you decided to go with the latter.

“Of course you did, you just didn’t mean for me to hear any of it. It’s fine. I look like an off duty princess, like I belong in a kindergarten classroom. Nothing I haven’t heard before. Anything else?” You said all of this in a bored voice, like your parents were lecturing you for staying out all night without calling. You knew that you weren’t a typical New York detective and you took pride in that. You liked writing your notes down in colored gel pens (the pink and purple pens are your favorites) in your pastel mini notepads because you think they look pretty and nice, and the items on your desk are mostly pastel colors. With all the shit you’ve seen in just your first week at SVU, you wanted to look at pretty things and thought the victims might too after the horrific stuff they experienced, and anyway, Olivia didn’t have a problem with you writing in glitter gel pens as long as they weren’t official documents.

You always dressed in light colors because it meant that perps wouldn’t suspect you as a cop while undercover, something you learned during your time in Vice. Plus, it made you feel good so you kept on doing it. The criminals felt they could trust you. “Look, we’re gonna be working together for a long time so we might as well be honest with each other, right?” They both nodded and you stapled the pages together and put them in the tray. “Great! Now if you’ll excuse me, I have two slices of pizza and a Golden Girls marathon on Hallmark Channel with my name on it. See you Monday!”

You grabbed your coat and started packing your tablet/iPad and putting it in your backpack then reached for your wallet for your metro card; your train would arrive in fifteen minutes, and it was a short walk to the subway station. “Do you want me to give you a ride home? It’s a little too cold to be waiting for the subway,” Amanda offered. “Are you sure? I live a far ways out.” More like twenty minutes away, way too far from Amanda’s apartment. It usually takes you forty five minutes to get home every night; thirty five minute ride plus ten minutes of walking to your building.

“Sure. I have to be in that area anyway,” she answered. You decided to take her up on the offer, after all you just saved over two dollars, money you can put towards moving out of your mom’s place. Turns out, Amanda was better than any Uber driver and she had a better selection of music: lots of 90s and Y2K pop hits and you were in your neighborhood in no time when you realized she was pulling up to your building. “Thanks again Amanda, I really appreciate it.”

“No problem. And Y/N? I really am sorry about the way I behaved earlier. We’re adults, it was wrong of me, and I never should’ve said that stuff. Can you forgive me?” Amanda sounded sincere, and you could see it in her eyes that she really was sorry. “Of course. See you Monday?” She smiled, and with that, you shuffled quickly into the brightly lit lobby of you building. You hoped that this would be the start of a new page.

#law and order imagines #olivia benson #fin tutuola #amanda rollins

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