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#i barely noticed him in flower boy next door
cosmal · 1 year
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ooooh poly!marauders who are really in tune with their s/o's emotions, even when she tries to hide them? like maybe they're out for a meal or at a party and she gets overwhelmed and they just realise straight away and bring her out of the setting? i love them soooo much
in the car
summary the boys take you home when you get overwhelmed at a party.
content poly!marauders x fem!reader
note omg first poly!m blurb. sorry it kinda sucks :[
You sit on a retaining wall in Marlene's backyard and try to focus on her pretty flowers instead of feeling so anxious. You haven't spoken to anyone in twenty minutes, not even the boys, and you've really tried your best not to put such a damper on the night.
They're having a lot of fun, you know they've had a tiring week and everyone hasn't been together in a long time so you won't ruin anything for them.
You pick at your nails and chew on the ice in your drink to keep your mind distracted. You thought you could handle it tonight, you hoped you wouldn't get as overwhelmed as you were expecting. You'd felt anxious before you even left, you thought seeing your friends might've helped.
You're too busy staring a hole through your glass to notice James sitting next to you. You startle when he speaks and bite your lip at your error.
"Hey, sweetheart," he says softly and ignores your jump. You feel a little pathetic.
"James," you sigh. You can't look him in the eye.
"Ready to go?" he clasps and hand to your shoulder and does that stupid, toothy grin he knows you love.
"What? We just got here." It feels like it's been hours. It's been one at most.
"Yeah, I know." He stands back up and hovers over you. It's almost irritating how pretty he looks. He doesn't make any of this any easier. You feel awful for ruining their night. "You look so sad, honey. We thought we'd go home."
"I can Uber if you want." You regret it before you even say it.
"What? No, don't be so silly." Yeah. Expected.
"I don't wanna leave just cause of me. I'm fine, don't worry."
James doesn't let you mope any longer. "No, c'mon, up."
"James..."
"It's okay," he takes your hand to encourage you, smiling, "really. I wanna leave anyway." Then much quieter, "Frank's tryna get me drunk."
You let him lift you up and fall into his side where you feel you belong. You feel half-relieved already, despite feeling selfish. "Where're the others?"
"Sirius went to get the car,'' he grabs your hand and leads you through the side gate. "I think Remus went with him."
You're not sure why you feel so blindsided by this all. Most of the time they're so intuned with you, they know when you're overwhelmed or just having a bad time. You're the same with them. You rub Remus's shoulders before without him telling you they're sore, you call James when you know he's having a bad day after he messages you, and you hug Sirius before he tells you he wants a cry.
You step out onto the pavement and find Sirius pulled up with Remus, waiting for you and James. You feel bad for ditching but not as much as so when they look so happy to see you. "What if I'd convinced you to stay? They would've been out here all night, probably," you ask before you get to the car.
"Wouldn't have worked." He opens your door for you.
You slide along the back seat for James to sit next to you and are welcomed by a lovely warmth. James gets in too and you think he wants to click you in as well but decides against it.
"You okay, lovely?" Remus asks from the passenger seat, he twists around to look you over and you feel bare.
"I'm okay," you say softly. "Hasn't Sirius been drinking?"
Sirius snorts from behind the wheel. "I've had two, don't worry, lovely."
You know you're deflecting, you suspect as soon as Sirius also asks if you're okay, you might cry. Your throat feels thick with an upset that feels worse now in a contained space. This is half the reason you wanted to leave on your own. Not that being surrounded by your boys when you're upset is bad, just might've been easier to steel yourself.
You reach a hand down on the seat between you and James and scrunch it tight. He unclicks himself and sides over to you. He gets an arm around your shoulder and encourages you into his side, as much as your seatbelt will allow.
"You okay?" Sirius dangerously whips his head back to look at you, pouting.
The first tear dribbles down your cheek.
You hide your face in James's firm shoulder and shake your head. He tuts and cages your head in with a big hand. Your tears are hot and slow, marring James's pretty shirt. You hope you don't turn messy with it. He looks good.
James murmurs something like, "Hurry up, Sirius." The car roars.
You feel the car slow at a red light and peel yourself away from James's chest. Face wet and hot, your hair stuck to your cheeks. "Shit, I'm sorry," you curse and wipe your face with a rough hand. James's arm stays around your shoulder.
"Hey, it's okay, yeah?" Remus uses his long arm to grab your knee. He squeezes firmly and it feels nice. You hope you're close to home, you want to hug Sirius as well. He looks similarly worked up.
"I'm sorry I made us leave," you sniffle.
"You didn't make us do anything," James says, voice as firm as he can manage. "We don't mind. It's just...you gotta tell us if you're not feeling good, okay? We might be able to prevent these pretty eyes from crying." He uses the side of his finger to wipe under your watery eyes, brushing over your clumped eyelashes. You blink slowly.
"I didn't want to ruin-"
"You didn't ruin anything," Sirius interrupts, "We just want to make sure you're okay."
He steals another look at you. You nod gently. "Yeah."
"Remus was complaining to me, anyways," James says, smug. "Said I looked so good that he wanted to take me home."
You start to laugh, much to the boy's pleasure. "Really?"
"Yeah," James nods, "Said he wanted to - and I quote - jump my bones."
Remus looks incensed. You're just happy the teasing isn't on your behalf for once. "Whatever, James."
"You do look pretty, James," you say, still sidled up to him, "I don't blame him."
He squeezes you hard. and laughs, pleased you're feeling better. "I'm sure Remus'll be telling me all night how good this shirt looks on me."
"It does!"
"Okay, James's head might explode," Sirius says. He'd looked just as in love all night, you'd seen it.
"Woah!"
You sit back and watch your boys fight over stupid things. You think you could do it for the rest of your life if they allowed it. You're sure they'd make a fool of themselves over and over if it made you happy.
Sirius catches you staring. "Feeling a little better?"
You nod, pleased, but embarrassed to be caught. "Yeah."
"Good." You must be almost home.
"Hey, Sirius?" you say softly.
"Yeah, lovely?" He might crash if he keeps turning to look at you like that.
"Can we stop at McDonald's?" you ask softly, even softer eyes like he'd ever say no.
"Yeah, sounds good. Remus needs a happy meal."
-
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queers-gambit · 9 months
Text
You Might Think It's Foolish
prompt: meeting your boyfriend's family for the first time creates anxiety, so, you stick to his side. at dinner, his mother calls out your clinginess - and Aemond doesn't defend you. or when someone else calls you clingy and he doesn't defend you / agrees with them.
pairing: modern!Aemond Targaryen x female!reader
fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon
word count: 3.1k+
warnings: short and to the point, angst, hurt and no comfort, drama, relationship angst, stand alone, cursing, toxic family, toxic relationship...? barely edited, author's tired of her drafts.
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Fall. Autumn. A time of shedding the old and preparing for the new. Perhaps that was why this happened - the universe was trying to shed what was unwelcome in your life. Yet you wouldn't see it this way for several long months.
The trees grew over the winding backroads in a curved canopy; creating a golden tunnel for visitors to pass through on their way to remote destinations. You were no exception, cruising at a leisure speed while taking slow, deep breaths to attempt to soak in the beauty autumn in the Northern Hemisphere brought. It was impossible not to feel enraptured by the serenity of the country roads, music set so you could hear it but still have a conversation if you wanted.
Your passenger princess told you it was the next right.
"I can't believe we're late," you whispered, sighing in strained stress. "This is a horrible first impression, Aemond."
"We won't even be the latest," he smirked.
"Doesn't matter, it's still rude to show up when the party's already started."
"We were busy."
"You were getting a new tattoo," you deadpanned.
"Exactly as I said - busy. And you got your third ear piercing, so, I don't want t'hear it."
You swallowed, making the right turn. "That's the house?" You gawked.
"Mhm," he gazed out his window, "welcome to the Targaryen Manor, princess."
"I forget you're from old money," you muttered, finding a suitable parking space and pulling in. You gathered your belongings, including the flowers from the backseat you insisted on bringing for his mother, and vacate the car.
"You're gonna be fine," Aemond smirked, tossing his arm around your neck as you moved up the walkway. "Just be yourself, laugh at their jokes - you'll fit right in."
"I feel like I can't even afford to be here," you whispered, approaching the front door. He chuckled and took your hand, letting you squeeze it tight as he opened the door and lead you inward. "Jesus, Mary Mother, and Joseph," you gaped, eyes bugging wide as the interior.
The term "fancy" didn't even begin to cover it.
And Aemond just smirked at you, amused by your response; knowing your family grew up without money and the nicest thing you owned for years was a Wii that had been purchased from a family-friend for a third of the price. So to see you here, amongst luxury and money, was an absolute treasure to him.
However, that was short lived, because the next thing you noticed was the amount of people milling around. There was at least 13 different people in sight, and for some reason, you knew there was likely many, many more. Aemond lead you into the kitchen, and from there, you could barely keep up.
First, you met his mother, Alicent. She was a kind woman, but stoic and calculating; observant with a quick wit. She intimidated you, made you feel small, burned you under her stare; and since you were dating her favorite child, you knew she was scrutinizing you. You felt desperate for her approval, and when you offered her the large bouquet of flowers, she actually let her lips twitch in a small smile. She thanked your generosity and consideration, making you feel like you had some kind of breakthrough with her.
When Alicent went to put the flowers in water, Aemond assured he thought his mother "adored" you before introducing you to his father - the birthday boy. He was sweet; soft spoken and bright-eyed; all too happy to have a conversation with you. He asked how you and Aemond met, then what you were studying in university, if you liked it, what you wanted to do with your degree. He asked what food was your favorite, if you played sports, about your family, and if you had any hobbies. Viserys Targaryen had a kind soul, making you wonder how he and Alicent remained married.
Though they say opposites attract.
Aemond showed you around the house, stopping to introduce family members; then heading to the backyard where you were drug around to meet the hundred other family members. You were close to tears the whole time, knowing it was his father's birthday, but not knowing how bloody big his fucking family was - and that they'd all show up today. You felt blindsided, it felt like a deliberate withholding of information to convince you to come. You were under the impression it was a family dinner, but now, you understood, it was an actual celebration.
There was people everywhere you looked, everywhere you turned. Voices spoke over one another, children ran around playing tag or jumping on a trampoline; babies cried and screamed, the grill was loud with sizzling meats, and a radio played through intermittent static. Multiple dogs ran around, trailing mud everywhere, even going as far as to shake their coats out to shower bystanders. The smell of charcoal, smoke, and chlorine mingled with that tangy-good scent of BBQ; but it made your eyes sting.
It was a sensory overload.
It was a miracle you hadn't burst into tears yet, but you remained anchored to reality by maintaining a close proximity to Aemond.
You held his hand in a vice grip. You held his bicep with a curled-grip that left fingernail indentations in his skin through the fabric. You held his waist, belt loops, anything you could grab onto in a possessive grip. You constantly touched him to reassure yourself he was still with you; being your anchor to reality, tangible and real since your anxiety drowned you in a sea.
You didn't think it was an issue. Didn't think anyone would notice, so you obviously didn't think anyone would care if they DID notice. You liked touching Aemond, it kept you grounded; if someone had an issue with that, it was 100% just a personal problem. However, plenty of people did notice, and when you sat down for dinner, you were unprepared for the ambush.
Conversation was flowing; food passed around and utensils scraped plates. Drinks sweat into the table cloth, citronella candles twinkled, and laughter was in an abundance as each person found merriment in their family. You were feeling more relaxed, but the truth was, there was so many people here that you felt nauseous enough to only take a few small bites from your plate.
Aemond noticed and met your eyes, subtly opening his hand to you in an offer for comfort. You all but snatched his hand into yours, smiling in thanks as he only smirked broadly and continued eating. You tried to sample what you could, but it was impossible to stomach much of anything. You reached for your water, took a sip, and heard Alicent question your name.
When she had your attention, Alicent asked, "Have you had many boyfriends, dear?"
"Oh, no," you answered honestly, "no, I've gone on dates but Aemond's," you laid your free hand to his bicep, sliding down to take his hand with yours, "my first boyfriend."
She hummed and stabbed her fork into the salad set in front of her, muttering in a lower tone, "Then I guess I can overlook it all."
You cocked your head, setting your glass down, wondering, "Overlook what?"
"The clinginess," she shrugged, reaching for her wine glass. "You've been stuck to his side all day - never even parting to go to the restroom, it seems. So, because he's your first, I can overlook all this... For now."
Your head began to spin like in a bad cartoon. You felt your heart cement and drop to your stomach; throat swelling to suppress either sobs, vomit, or both. The entire table was quiet. "I-I'm sorry, Mrs. Targaryen," you offered in confusion. "I'm sorry if I've offended you, but it's not with malicious intent."
"No?" She mocked.
"No," your head shook vehemently. "I did not realize my actions could be interpreted negatively, and I assume you, it was not my intention to create tension."
"Oh, spare me. You haven't let go of Aemond once all night, and even now, as we all sit for family dinner, you hold his hand hostage; preventing you both from eating. Don't you think he'd like to spend time with his family without needing to make you feel included in every single thing he does or says today?"
You gulped, "I did not mean to offend you nor your family."
"It's not offensive," Helaena Targaryen, Aemond's only sister, tried to intervene. "If you feel uncomfortable in any situation, why not seek out that in which you already know helps comfort you?"
How had it come to this?
"I am not offended," Viserys croaked, "I find young love refreshing."
But this made Alicent rage, "It is offensive when you prevent Aemond from actually visiting with his family. It's his father's birthday for God's sake! We don't have an infinite number of them left! If you want to hang all over him when you're at university, fine, but when you're here? In public? Around family or elders? It's not acceptable behavior, especially when you prevent my son from participating as a member of this family."
Your mouth went dry as you remembered your parents did not raise you to ever tolerate disrespect. If someone offered insult, sure, walk away, but they also taught you to stand up for yourself in particular fights. This felt like one of those fights.
There were also vivid memories long since repressed that flashed you back to your own parents telling you, you were clingy. They didn't want you hanging off them, distracting anyone, being an overall nuisance; so they started fighting your fire with their own. They became verbally aggressive, constantly ridiculing and belittling you; attempting to keep you humble by insulting your character - saying nobody (be it man or woman) would want someone like you. Your baggage was too heavy and you knew it, your parents telling you it was why you felt the need to cling in the first place.
If you held on tight enough, the weight of your trauma would eventually anchor your person in place. It'd be too late to swim away once that anchor sunk.
You looked at Aemond, thinking he'd tell his mother to quiet down, but he never did. He just stared at the table, so, you tossed his hand into his lap - feeling disgusting by his physical touch right now.
It was evident he wasn't going to defend you, so, you defended yourself, "I know you might think it foolish, but the reason I was 'all over' your son was because I was caught off-guard by the number of family members who attended today. I was lead to believe this would be a small, intimate affair so I could properly meet his nuclear family, and when I realized that was not the case, yes, I held onto Aemond because I felt incredibly anxious. I cannot control what makes me uncomfortable, but I was expecting under ten people - not close to a hundred. So, truly, if me seeking solace with my boyfriend upsets you, I am sorry, but I will not apologize for feeling blindsided and misdirected - I will not apologize for feeling anxious and nervous amongst such a large family that I've never met before, and - "
Aemond snapped your name, silencing you instantly out of sheer shock; your eyes widening a fraction. He growled, "That's enough, do not speak to my mother like that."
"So, she's allowed to call me clingy, but I can't - "
"I told you to watch your mouth," he seethed, "and not speak to her like you just were. She made an observation - an accurate one - not out of spite, like you want to do in retaliation."
You scoffed, while glancing between mother and son, nodding slowly. You mutely used your cloth napkin to blot around your lips, swipe your tongue over your teeth as you pushed your chair back and slowly stood. "You know what? I don't need this shit. I refuse to sit here and let you speak to me as if you're holier than thou," you told Alicent, then looking to Aemond, "nor will some mama's boy gaslight me."
Helaena giggled behind her hand as you swiped your purse and phone, turned on your heel, and walked away. Aemond sighed and called your name, standing from his own chair, still trying to slow you down by calling out to you. "Aemond," Alicent snapped when he meant to move after you.
"You've done enough," he told her, jogging after your retreating form while calling your name.
"Nice one, Mum," Aegon scoffed. "That's one way to make sure he doesn't knock her up - just break them up."
"Aegon," Daeron groaned.
"What? Isn't that what she was afraid of? Aemond getting too serious with her?" Aegon snapped. "He's finally happy, and you what? Had to implode that?"
Aegon's words sunk into his mother's heart as Aemond rushed after you, nobody untouched by the things he said.
Outside, you rushed for your car while fumbling with your purse and keys. Aemond followed, still. He finally caught up when you made it to the car, his hand whipping you around to face him.
"I didn't fucking mean it," he rushed, holding you securely in his grasp. "Hear me? I didn't fucking mean it, I-I just wanted the arguing to stop, I know how Mum can get and I didn't want it to escalate. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, my love, I didn't mean it at you - I just - I panicked - I don't know why. Perhaps we're both still very green to this whole relationship thing."
"Oh! Fuck you," you snapped, pushing him off you.
"Listen to me - "
"No, you're done talking," you raged with your manicured pointer finger jabbing the air between you in a dramatic fashion. "Your mother fully insulted me in front of everyone - your entire family, whom I wasn't even aware I was meeting, nor was I even ready to meet!"
"What?"
"I was willing to meet your parents and siblings. Not your entire extended family! You meet the nuclear family first and when ready to level-up, you bring your significant other around your aunties, uncles, cousins - whatever. You ambushed me," you snapped. "You totally caught me off guard - but instead of apologizing and acknowledging my discomfort, you just carried on on your high horse. You let me hold onto you - yet there was no word about being clingy - and you even reached for my hand a few times! Yet I was the one being slandered and labeled as 'clingy'!? But you know what? That's cool, really fucking cool, that's fine. Like I said before, fuck off. I don't need to be with someone who crumples like a wet piece of paper when Mummy Dearest starts to huff and puff. I need someone who's going to tell their mother to cut it out when they're trying to wrongfully insult me - your girlfriend. Better yet? I need to be with someone whose mother doesn't start on that bullshit! That has respect! Decency! Now get the fuck away from me!"
You shoved him back a few steps to give room for you to open your car door and get in - immediately hitting the automatic locks. You started the engine, put your seatbelt on, took one last look at your first love as he tried to plea with you through the rolled up window, then shifted into gear and pulled away.
You felt your anger boil to a new height when you replayed the entire day. How dare Aemond? How dare he try to manipulate this situation? He had no right to ask you to shut the fuck up while his mother was free to run her mouth! Well, first and foremost, how fucking dare Alicent insult and challenge you in such a public setting? How in the Seven Hells had Helaena been the only one to defend you? What the hell did you even need defending against? Why did you showing affection and needing reliable support upset Alicent that much?
Your phone began to ring, and when you glanced at it, you saw Aemond's contact photo displayed on the screen. You ignored it and put your phone on airplane mode, leaving it on for now. However, after a few long moments of stressful thinking, you turned the setting off and called your sister - knowing no matter what, she'd be your rock. When she answered, you told her a simplified version of events, and at the end, your tears had been triggered and she was encouraging you to come over to her house.
You agreed, shut your phone off this time, and drove to your sister's place. When you arrived, you were shocked to find her waiting in the driveway, opening her arms with a pout when you got out of the car. "C'mere," she cooed, enveloping you in her arms when you stepped into her embrace.
"Why do boys suck?" You whimpered.
"Because that's just how they were programed," she sighed.
"Sh-She called me clingy," you managed through your tears, "his mom called me clingy, a-and Aemond d-didn't defend me. So, when I had to defend myself, he just told me to be quiet 'cause his mother wasn't wrong - or what-the-fuck-ever."
"I know, honey," she sympathized, giving you a squeeze. "What're you thinking?"
"That I can't trust someone like that," you admitted. "And if I can't trust them, why be in a relationship?"
She nodded, "I think you know what you need to do next."
"I don't want to."
"Nobody really wants to, but it's necessary," she held your phone out for you after pulling it from your back pocket. "Don't let him or his mother disrespect you - especially in front of his other family members. I mean, shit, how're you supposed to face any of them again after that?"
"Exactly, his mom didn't exactly do it in private..."
"See?" She stared at you while you sighed, shaking your head. Your sister encouraged, "Make the call. This isn't a sustainable relationship, and Aemond shouldn't have to choose his mother and his girl - so, let's just make it easy on him, and you choose. Wanna be with someone who lets his mother say shit like that to you? Who tells you to be quiet, instead of shutting down his mother's insults?"
You frowned, whispering, "I don't think this is enough to break us up. It shouldn't be, right? This shouldn't be the end-all, be-all, should it?"
"No, honey, but the disrespect cannot stand, either," she shot back. "If he felt so comfortable to say that in front of his family like that, you don't wanna know what he's gonna get comfortable doing in more private settings." Tears filled your eyes as she reminded gently, but firmly, "Make the call."
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postmortemnivis · 3 months
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spring was simon’s favourite season.
maybe because it meant rebirth, seeing the trees turn a vivid green again and the fields full of flowers and colours gave him hope. he loved to wake up and open his window in the early days of april, when the world was finally getting rid of the chilly morning breeze that always made him sick the first weeks of winter. every time he felt the air getting warmer, he couldn’t wait to change his heavy winter jacket into his windbreaker.
maybe it was because his birthday was in may, and despite not having celebrated it like he should’ve when he was a kid, he knew you would never forget to wake him up with a soft peck on the lips.
‘morning birthday boy.
if you asked him, he would tell you he liked spring better than summer because the weather was more enjoyable, not too hot yet not cold. spring’s light showers were his favourite noise to wake up to, after the one of the coffee maker he got you for christmas.
the real reason simon was so devoted to spring, almost as much as he was to you, were you. what did you expect from him?
he knew you probably couldn’t remember, but all those years back, you two met in early spring, after a particularly difficult winter.
simons life had been a deep, cold and dark winter for the past years. two, five, ten, who kept count anymore? his days would blend one into the other, seasons slowly turning into the next, he almost couldn’t tell the difference between august and february. seasonal depression was real, but somehow it lingered all around the year for him. that was before you.
you were the first shy sun ray that filtered through the clouds, quite literally. you, as fresh as the cold rain, and you heart, as warm as a late may afternoon, were all he needed to get out of his hibernation. you were what simon needed to wake up, the signal that spring and all beautiful things were on the way, that he needed to arise and get out of his hollow tree.
for the first time in years, simon’s eyes realized that spring was blooming everywhere around him, he was just too deep into his winter, blind, to notice; the flowers were blossoming, as beautiful as ever. he was grateful.
for you, for spring, for the sun finally caressing his face and skin and for your sweet kisses, each of them feeling like the first warm day after months of wind and snow.
“good morning, birthday boy.” you whispered as you kissed his lips.
simon squeezed his eyes shut before slowly opening them. he’d heard you get up, of course, the moment you started stirring in bed he was informed you were awake. you could try to keep the military out of the house, but the instincts followed him home, whether you liked it or not.
your bright smile was beaming at him, your hands on his bare broad chest as you sat on his hips, your thighs on either side of his waist.
“‘mornin’ beautiful.” he mumbled, resting a strong hand on your hip as he sat back, leaning against the headrest.
“breakfast’s in the kitchen,” you smiled, “i made coffee too.”
he hummed. “can smell it. i heard you too.”
you grinned.
“what’re grinning at?” he tiredly grinned back.
“want me to bring you breakfast in bed?” you said, “we can stay here in bed all day if you want to.”
he shook his head. “nah, love, i’m coming to the kitchen. i’ll be ready in a minute.”
you brought your lips to his again before getting off of him and caressing his cheek as you walked back to the kitchen, waiting for him.
his eyes followed your figure until you left the room, and he raised his gaze to the ceiling for a minute before shuffling his feet to the bathroom. he closed the door and stood in front of the sink, his hands on either side of the ceramic. his brown eyes, so dark they looked black, remained fixed on his reflection before he walked to the big window and opened the panes.
“simon?” you called. “baby, your coffee’s getting cold!”
his broad figure stood there, studying the nature outside. there was a small park in front of the flat, a little green heaven where mostly children went to play, he could hear from there the laughters and giggles. the trees, wild cherries and guelder rose followed the small street, their branches almost reaching the top floor where you lived.
“comin’ love.”
it was the middle of may, almost summer, and simon took a big breath of the fresh morning air before leaving the window open as he turned around and walked to the kitchen, right into his little piece of spring.
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writingforrhys · 1 year
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as you were
cassian x reader warnings: none! just some arguing and very sassy bat boys LOL. and some nesta and elain slander oh and quite a bit of swearing contents: welcome to a long awaited part 2 of smaller than this! i finally wrote the comfort to the hurt. please enjoy!
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Cassian couldn't find you anywhere.
He was sweaty, and disgusting, and disheveled after a long morning of training with his brothers. Azriel had been on point this particular session, seemingly being able to read Cassian's mind and know his every next move. He'd been put to the floor more times than he could count and all he wanted was to find you, bathe, and throw himself under the covers for some comfort and some really good sex.
The Illyrian had flown down to the Rainbow in search of your favourite bakery for some custard treat that he knew you couldn't get enough of and a bunch of your favourite flowers. And now, he couldn't fucking find you.
There was nothing better to Cassian than that shy look you'd get on your face when he'd turn up with gifts in hand, like you couldn't believe you were the one he was giving them to. The way you'd wring your hands together and rock on your feet, reaching towards him with that big, bright smile and a welcome home kiss, just to rush off to put your flowers in some water or show Rhys exactly what he'd bought you.
Gods, he needed to find you.
He felt like he'd searched the house 3 times over. He'd gone to the library, the kitchens, even Rhys's study and still no sight of you. It had barely hit noon and he knew your routine ridiculously well. You should've been pottering somewhere.
He found himself standing outside of your shared bedroom, concerned that perhaps you'd fallen ill, or caught on to one of Az's headaches, and had retired to your bed for the day. He craned his ears to search for any signs of life from the room; put off by the lack of light funnelling through the gaps of the door.
Cassian was just about ready to haul ass and search for you again elsewhere, when he heard it. It... you... a sniffle?
The door slowly creaked open, warm light from the hall washing over the unmoving mass under the sheets. Cassian moved as gently as he could, (albeit he was not very gentle at all), and found only the top of your head peeking through.
"Are you okay, honey? Not feeling well?"
His kind words and tender tone made you want to cry even more and you had to resist the urge to not look over the sheets and take a look at his beautiful face.
"I'm fine, Cass." And there it was. Mistake, mistake, mistake.
Any other person would've walked away. Any other person would have wished you farewell and hoped you got better. Any other person wouldn't concern themselves over the inflection of your voice. But not Cassian.
No, Cassian heard it all. Saw it all. He heard the shaking of your speech, the uncertainty. Could hear the wetness. And, he could bet that if he pulled back the bed covers, he'd find you tear-stained and choked up and utterly humiliated. And he was always right when it came to you.
And now, as panic blossomed in his chest, he took a seat next to your unmoving form and placed a hand just atop your body. He was careful not to remove the covers; he didn't need you closing off even more.
"You wanna tell me what happened, my love?"
A head shake.
"Did someone do this to you? Has someone made you upset?"
Silence.
"Who."
You removed the covers now, no further down than the top of your chest he noticed, and the sight of you broke his heart. You were all sniffles and puffy faced and hair so unkempt it could make a Naga run back to the woods. You'd obviously been here a while - alone and vulnerable. His heart broke again.
"It's okay, Cassie, really. They didn't mean any harm. I wasn't even supposed to hear it."
"They?" He was furious. Utterly and blindingly furious. Whoever had made you cry was very soon certain to wish they were never born.
Your eyes fluttered closed as you sighed, realising this was a battle not easily won. Cassian was not the type to let things go easily, especially when it came to you, and you weren't foolish enough to hope that he would just leave it alone.
"Nesta and Elain," Your voice was just a whisper, eyes still closed, "They... they were talking about me. Didn't have many nice points."
The Illyrian was the picture of silent rage. His heart a furnace; one doing a terrific job at boiling the blood under his skin.
"What did they say?"
You were hesitant now, as if speaking the words aloud would somehow make them more true. Your eyes peeked open, looking everywhere but Cass, until a large hand took purchase upon your cheek, tilting your face to meet his encouraging stare.
Your voice wobbled as you told him what they'd said - the descriptions that had hurt you the most. More tears streamed down your face at this and a calloused thumb reached to wipe every one away.
Once you had finished, Cassian stood silently, leaning down to plant a kiss to your hairline, and made a beeline for the door.
"Where are you going?" You wiped at your tired eyes.
"I'm off to kill some sisters."
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
The door to the living room had slammed open so fast that the walls of the house had shaken. Every head in the room had whipped to a seething Cassian in the doorway.
Rhysand was the first to stand and reach out his hand tentatively, as if taming a beast, "What's wrong, brother?"
Cassian's gaze didn't even land upon the High Lord. His line of sight shot right to the sofa behind him, carrying Feyre and Lady Death herself.
"You."
Nesta wasn't someone who showed much emotion in her face. Her range of expressions only varied between extremely discontent and mildly satisfied. But now, with the General standing in the doorway and a thunderous stare thrust upon her, she didn't know how to hide the amount of emotion bubbling up to her face.
Seeing her sister's agitation, the High Lady also rose to her feet and stepped forward. One of her hands rested upon Cassian's arm, gently rubbing as she lead him into the room.
"You need to tell us what the problem is, or we can't fix it."
"What's the problem, Feyre?" He scoffed, "She's my fucking problem."
The Illyrian's voice was raising with every word he spat. His voice had reached the adjourned kitchens, where Azriel and Elain now tentatively filtered out. Elain monitored the situation carefully, and quickly took a seat next to Nesta, grasping one of her hands in her own.
"Cassian, perhaps you need to calm down. I'm sure Nesta will be more comfortable to talk to you then." Elain's voice was barely above a whisper.
"Oh, go bake some fucking bread, Elain!"
"Cassian," Azriel spoke, "You need to choose your next words carefully."
"Really, brother? I don't think I do," He turned to Azriel, "Would you like to know what your little girlfriend has been saying about Y/N?"
The room was silent. Elain was red.
A beat passed as Azriel and Rhysand made eye contact. Azriel's shoulder's squared and his jaw ticked. Rhys laid a hand on Feyre's elbow, who was quick to leave the room with a soft mutter of I'm going to check on Y/N. The three Illyrian's were now facing the sisters on the couch, a storm brewing in the room.
"What did you say?" The shadowsinger's voice was uncomfortably steady.
"We didn't say anything. Get your guard dogs away from us." Nesta seethed at Cassian.
"You didn't... say anything?" Rhysand spoke slowly - accusatory.
Elain was nothing like her sister. Nesta could lie for days on end and not break a sweat. Often, when they were young, Nesta would spin tales about the other children in the village and see which rumour she could make spread faster. When she was confronted, Nesta had no problem lying to their faces again, or telling them exactly what she thought of them to their face. Whatever she preferred in the moment.
Elain was not like Nesta. Elain would return from school or the market, sit by the hearth on the floor, and spin her tales there. The words she spoke never left their house, not by her own voice anyway. She knew from Nesta's approving hums and nods that the next day, whatever Elain had spun would miraculously make it across the town. And she loved it.
Elain did not like consequences, and she did not like confrontation.
"We didn't say anything." She whispered. She dared not look up.
"That's funny, really," Cassian spoke to his brothers, "Nesta and Elain have decided that Y/N isn't good enough for us. For me."
"Oh, I wasn't aware that was up for them to decide, Cass."
"Neither did I, Rhys."
Azriel's face was still stony, "Would you like to tell the truth now?"
"Oh please, what we said wasn't that bad. The drama in your court is abysmal, Rhysand." The eldest Archeron bristled, "You'd think the royalty of the Night Court would have better things to do than gossip."
"Let me make one thing very clear. If I ever hear you speak ill of another member of my court again, it will be the last thing you ever do in this court." Rhys was not speaking as himself now. This was the High Lord. This was your High Lord. Undoubtedly and unapologetically loyal to you.
"Y/N is the best of us," Azriel spoke lowly, "I wouldn't expect you to understand, but you have misspoken and you've made a grave mistake. You will apologise profusely, and from this point on you will do everything you can to make this right."
Azriel left then, his long legs climbing the stairs and his footsteps following the familiar path straight to your room. Elain's face had fallen completely now, tears threatening to spill over her cheeks.
"We have known Y/N for the best part of 500 years. We have known the both of you for all of 5 minutes," Rhys' eyes bore into the sisters, "She has loved us and we have loved her for longer than you've been alive. You should be surprised that I haven't already dropped you at the border."
Rhys turned then to the door, his back facing the room.
"Do not let me hear of this again."
And with that, he followed Azriel up the stairs.
The Seer glanced between her sister and the General and took her opportunity to breathe a weak apology and immediately flee the room.
Typical, Nesta thought.
"Well, whatever you have to say, I suggest you get it out."
She was right. Cassian had been far too quiet. If he left his emotions unchecked any longer, he could very well do something he would regret. Well, he wouldn't regret it that much. But he'd like to avoid the grovelling he'd have to do to Feyre.
"My life is none of your concern," He began, "Who I take to bed is none of your concern and who I spend my time with is none of your concern."
Nesta rolled her eyes.
"What?" Cassian spat, "Would you rather I profess my undying love for you instead of her? You, who has shown me nothing but hatred and contempt since the moment we met. And Y/N who has spent 5 centuries giving me kindness and a home."
She wasn't looking at him anymore, completely silent as the Illyrian grew quiet again himself.
"She means everything to me. I have never and will never tolerate anyone who attempts to jeopardise what we have. Especially not you."
"What do you even see in her?" Cassian couldn't tell whether it was a jab or a genuine question. He didn't like either.
"All I see is her," A small smile, "All I think about is her. When I leave in the morning, I think about what she might choose to wear that day. And on the way home, I think about where I'll find her. Whether she'll be reading in the library, or teaching Az how to knit for the 50th time, or baking or bathing or singing."
He didn't pause to see Nesta's face shifting to shock.
"And when I do get back, the first face I want to see is Y/N's. To see her smile or hear her laugh. Most of the time I can't believe that I'm the bastard she chose to love. That I'm the one who gets to hold her every night."
Cassian made his move to leave, but just before he reached the doorway, he turned back to look Nesta in the eye.
"Y/N is the most beautiful, loving person I've ever met. I wonder sometimes how flowers don't grow on the grass she treads. You're lucky I haven't left you dead on the floor for the way you've spoken about her."
And as you listened on the stairs, your cheeks red and smile bright, you knew.
You knew that you didn't have to travel the universe to find someone who loves you. You didn't need to have a different body or a different mind to find someone who sees you.
Because Cassian was here, in this house, loving you and seeing you. For everything you are.
He loved you just as you were.
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dramaticals · 7 months
Text
you're too good for him - chapter two.
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pairing: theodore nott x reader
summary: you're theo's best friend and he's secretly pining over you... but you have a boyfriend. modern au.
author's note: truly was not going to make a part two, but i feel like there's angst to be had and i love a good slow burn, so perhaps you can expect a part three if there's interest.
✧ read: part one ✧
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Of course you noticed his absence.
After the night you came knocking on Theo's door and you'd spent the night nuzzled in the warmth and familiarity of his strong embrace, it felt like the rusted gears of your friendship were finally oiled up and turning again. You spent most of your time with Theo, opting to spend your free time with him instead of your boyfriend, who had yet to apologize for his actions. Cormac claimed he was just trying to pass his class and it meant nothing, but there were far better options available than resorting to flirting with the TA.
Cormac's mistake was Theo's gain.
The next couple of days felt like you were transported back into a time when life was simple. When all you had to worry about was whether Theo would trade you his homemade sandwich for your lunchable and whether it was your turn to pick the movie that night or his.
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Cormac came to his senses on the sixth day.
You were studying in the library with Theo, shoulders brushing together as he quizzed you on natural nutrients for your upcoming final. Theo was determined to help you pass, even going so far as to bringing your favourite sweets as a reward for answering correctly. Of course, there was the added challenge of having to catch said reward with your mouth as Theo tossed it into the air. Whenever you managed to catch it, Theo would flash you a cheeky grin, and it made you all the more proud for answering correctly. You always loved the way he smiled. He didn't do it often anymore.
Just as Theo lined up for another toss, shutting one eye for maximum aiming (which elicited a giggle out of you), Cormac tapped you on the shoulder.
You turned to face your boyfriend, your eyes immediately drawn to the bouquet of red roses, haphazardly packaged in a thin plastic film, in his hands.
"Y/N, will you go to the end-of-year gala with me?" Cormac asked. He bent down onto one knee, shoving forward the bouquet of flowers for you to take. "I'm sorry about what I did. Truly. And I'll make it up to you if you go to the gala with me. I swear it."
Cormac looked at you with as much sincerity as he could muster. For a moment, you just looked between him and the flowers, your mouth stupidly agape.
Theo watched in stunned silence. The cheeky grin that had found its way back to his face had twisted into a frown. Like Cormac, Theo was waiting for your answer. He hung onto every second of silence like it was the only lifeline of hope—hope that you would finally see through lover boy's cheesy and insincere gimmicks and finally say no.
"Yes," You say, and you pull Cormac into a side embrace so as not to squish the bouquet. He'd never gifted you flowers before, and plans to preserve them went rampant in your mind.
The excitement of Cormac and flowers distracted you, and you didn't notice Theo pack up his things and take off, leaving the opened box of your favourite sweets in his place.
The gears of your friendship rusted over again. If not for the small smiles of acknowledgement he gave you in passing, you rarely saw him. He'd mumble excuse after excuse as to why he couldn't stick around for long. He even stopped opening his door for you, claiming he had fallen asleep early or that he was just too engrossed in his studies to have heard you at the door.
The sudden loss of Theo's presence, especially after days spent by his side again, felt like someone had withdrawn an oxygen source. You were alive, but just barely.
You didn't think anything of it though. You knew Theo liked his solitude, and he always came back to you when he was ready. You weren't worried.
As days passed, Theo kept up the busy facade. It wasn't until you caught him turning on his heels as soon as he spotted you across the servery that you realized that this time was different. He was avoiding you.
For the rest of the day, you racked your brain for clues and signs to explain your best friend's behaviour. As you lay pensively in bed, you cursed yourself for not noticing it all sooner. The eye rolls, snarky remarks, and frowns whenever Cormac was brought up or was in close proximity played through your mind. Of course.
You knew exactly how to fix this.
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Theo's dorm wasn't far from yours. Just two levels up using the elevator, and you were outside his dorm room, knocking with new-found determination. You weren't leaving until he opened up.
"Theo, I know you're in there."
From the slit on the bottom of his door, you see a shadow stop in its tracks.
"I promise I won't take long."
The door opens, but only enough to fit Theo's tall frame. It wasn't enough for you to slip through as usual. It wasn't an invitation inside.
"I'm busy," Theo starts.
"No, you're not. I can smell the burnt popcorn from down the hall." You cut him off, knowing he was probably watching a movie.
Theo had a strange habit of burning popcorn. He'd claim it brought out a sophisticated flavour that you just don't understand, but you knew it was really because he relied on the popcorn button too much—a button that was lacking on all the microwaves at your university.
Theo sighs, opens the door, and retreats back into his dorm. While it hadn't been long since you were last here, it felt like you were stepping onto sacred grounds. Your eyes glance around his room, catching sight of his disheveled bed, messy side table, and the paused movie. Stacks of books and loose papers littered his floor. Some crumpled, others tossed aimlessly near the trash can.
"I know why you've been avoiding me." You announce, turning to face Theo. You cross your arms over your chest, standing firm in your statement. Theo avoids your gaze.
"Who says I've been avoiding you?"
"I'm not an idiot, Theo. I have eyes, you know."
This makes him tense. You expected a playful quip about your need for occasional reading glasses (proving how faulty your eyes could be), but it didn't come. Instead, his jaw tightens, and he visibly looks uncomfortable—no, panicked. Like he just got caught for doing something he wasn't supposed to be doing.
"So, I took it upon myself to fix this." You continue, stepping closer to the boy. His eyes finally lock onto yours, and you can see the flicker of curiosity and hesitance flash across his soft, arctic green eyes.
"I found you a date for the end-of-year gala."
"You what?" Theo's tone is sharp. The softness in his gaze vanishes in an instant, replaced with a darker, unreadable expression. Anger, hurt, betrayal. You don't notice it.
"I found you a date," you say again. "I know how hard you've been studying and I'm sure you haven't had a chance for a real break yet—binge watching movies doesn't count, by the way. And with me and Cormac going to the gala when we—" You gesture between yourself and Theo "—usually go together, I figured I'd take it upon myself to find you a lucky lady so we can all go together. Like a double date. And I promise, she's gorgeous. I think she's actually in one of your classes, too. Her name's Daphne."
Theo looks at you with such stoicism that you wonder if he even processed the great news you just delivered. His lips twitch into a frown.
"So, what do you think? Will you come?"
"I'm not particularly in the mood for a fucking gala, Y/N." Theo scoffs. His eyes roll before meeting your gaze. His scorching glare burned into you like a woman scorned. "And I don't appreciate you going rogue and asking a girl out on my behalf. I'm capable of doing so myself if I wanted to." If he wanted to. And he didn't. At least, not Daphne.
"Okay, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked her for you, but I just really wanted you to come," you try to explain. "She seems like such a sweet girl, and you're such an amazing guy... I just figured I would nudge you two in the right direction, you know? And we'd all have so much fun together. It could be like old times. Cormac's going to rent a limo and everything."
Theo has to hold back another eye roll. Old times meant you and Theo. Not you, Theo, Cormac, and Daphne. Spending a whole night bearing witness to your and Cormac's love fest, surrounded by peers he didn't care for, sounded like his own personal hell.
"Please, Theo," you plea, hopeful eyes searching his rigid ones. "I really missed you. It'd mean a lot to me if you came."
Theo's icy exterior cracks at your words. How pathetic he felt, letting the fact that you missed him, dictate what he said next. His feeble, lovesick little heart practically jumped at your words.
"Fine," Theo grumbles with a sigh. He'd endure the sight of you and Cormac all night, even if it made him sick, all because you said you missed him. "I'll go."
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tag list: if you'd like to be added to my theodore tag list, please let me know!
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luveline · 8 months
Note
Hi Jade! I wanted to request something with Prince Steve and his soulmate. I feel like we’ve started to see them warm up to each other but maybe we could see reader start to meet Steve’s friends and see that she’s got more people standing behind her? Like maybe Robin and Eddie teasing Steve about something embarrassing in front of her or I know she hasn’t shown up yet but I could totally see Nancy as like a lady in waiting/tutor to teach her all about proper manners but in the process she spills all these stories about Steve growing up?
thank you for requesting ♡ prince steve au fem, 1k
A knock at the door, an impatient huff. "Are you ready yet?" 
"Come in, Steve." 
He wedges into your rooms, a basket in his hands. "Why are you on the floor?" 
"Can't tie my stupid shoes," you complain, dropping your hands down, knee pulled up, too warm for all the fuss. 
Steve nearly drops the basket, he's that enthusiastic to help you out. He kneels by your feet and takes the laces of your shoes into his hands, pulling them tight, his eyebrows pinched tighter. "That okay?" he asks, pausing his loop. 
"Yeah. Thank you." 
"They didn't teach you how to tie your shoes back home? We need outreach immediately." 
You laugh and lay back on the plush rug behind you. "It's the weird eyelets. You royals do everything weird. Like picnicking." 
"So many points. These aren't eyelets, they're lace hooks. You're pretty much as royal as I am, or you will be in a matter of days. And," —he finishes tying your boot, pulling the other toward him with a small laugh— "Robin wanted a picnic. She's not royal. None of your points make any sense." 
"You'll be a wretched husband." 
Steve takes your hands and pulls you up into a sitting position. He doesn't let them go, transferring both into one so he has a hand free to straighten up your cardigan. "And you'll be a cherished wife." 
Steve pulls you onto your feet. Together, you walk through the selenite halls of the palace to the prince's private gardens, where a gazebo the colour of the sky stands shading refreshments from the eager sun. Helping themselves to the hors d'oeuvres are a tall Eddie and a shorter partner in crime, Robin. Nancy lays out in the grass next to who you assume to be her boyfriend, a handsome guy with two books in his hands, still closed. He squints in the sun, waving as you and Steve approach. 
"Hey!" he greets. "You're late."
"Don't get up," Steve jokes, waving back at him and Nancy, who's barely lifted her head. "Not like I'm anyone important." 
"Very, very hard to find you important when you're wearing shorts," Eddie says. 
Steve shrugs. "She likes them." 
You realise belatedly and with horror that you're she. How does he know you like his nice shorts? Either way, his indifference so long as you like them makes you flush, leaving his side in search of a cold drink to drown yourself in.
"Did you bring the bat?" Steve asks Jonathan behind you. 
"Hey, babe," Eddie says, offering you a glass cup set with pressed flowers in the sides, "you okay?" 
"Is that lemonade?" you ask, pointing at one of the small water dispensers. Their glass shells shine with condensation, more ice cubes than liquid inside. It's a cloudy white with blood orange slices cut and garnishing the top, their juice seeping downward slowly. 
"Sure is. Prince Stevie's favourite, as always. Don't know where the sudden love for oranges came from, do you?" 
You've had a love for them since you got here and tried them for the first time. Oranges are expensive, and so the palace kitchen has them in abundance. Steve clearly noticed. "Wouldn't you know?" you ask. "Don't you choose his meals?" 
"As if. I'm a glorified cleaning boy," Eddie says. He scoops a bagel covered in cream cheese and fresh cut salmon from a silver tray and takes a big bite. "Just stick around for the food." 
"They won't let him back into the engineers workshop on account of his bad manners, he'll be a dishwasher forever," Robin says grandly, rounding the table to stand on your other side. 
"Says you, lady's maid." 
Robin was supposed to be a lady's maid. Sick gig, good pay, she had all the grades and none of the decorum, but Steve wouldn't let them get rid of her, and after an intense training program that taught her to wield a titanium blade longer than her arm as an extension of it, she was instated as his personal guard instead. They're all job hoppers —Nancy started as a lady's maid but now apprentices as a royal tutor, and her boyfriend worked for the palace's news room but now works under the sous chef. 
You did anything you could to stay alive, and now your full time job is princess, so. You're not judging. 
"What's Nancy's boyfriends name?" you whisper. "Jon?" 
"Jonathan. I don't think anybody calls him Jon," Robin whispers back. 
"She's lying. His name is Gordon." Eddie glares at Robin. "She's trying to trip you up." 
A smack erupts through the air, chased by Steve's pleased whoop. "Yes! Baby, did you see that?" 
"I'm not trying to trip you up," Robin says, "don't listen." 
"She totally is." 
"Baby?" Steve calls, yards away in the bluegrass, a bat held at his side. "Guys, stop harassing her. Jesus." 
"We're not harassing her, Stevie, slow your roll. This is a common social phenomenon called teasing, maybe you've heard of it? You do it with friends," Eddie says, nudging your arm. 
Friends, you think. Steve's looking at you, waiting for confirmation that you're alright. "I didn't see it, Steve. Do it again!" 
Steve immediately jogs backwards, goading Jonathan into pitching another ball. He has a good arm, the ball soaring just right for Steve to curl back and send it wide across the green grass of the garden. It hits a long banner across the way, smack dab on its painted target as he'd aimed for, falling practically on top of the first. 
It's an impressive arc. You clap your hands together and cheer, though the rules of this game escape you. You think it's supposed to be darts without sharp points, but you're more concerned with the lines of Steve's bicep as he rests the bat on his shoulder, his triumphant sun-kissed smile.
"Did you see that one, baby?" Robin asks. 
"He's so impressive, isn't he?" Eddie adds, grinning. 
Steve throws them the bird, his cheeks pink. 
"That's an example of what not to do in a formal setting," Nancy says, her skirt moving like water as she puts her face in her hand, her elbow on her knee. 
"You're getting good at this tutoring stuff," Jonathan says. 
Steve meanders your way to beg a consolation hug (he puts his arm across your shoulder, muttering about mean friends and their unjust jokes). "They're the worst," he mutters, his hair brushing your ear, goosebumps erupting down your arms. 
"I think they're nice," you say. 
He hums in your ear. "You would. Wretched wife." 
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urwhorecrux · 4 months
Note
How would the hp boys handle an argument with their partner?
⋆ ˚⁀➷ ₊˚⊹⋆ 𝗛𝗣 𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗙𝗘𝗥𝗘𝗡𝗖𝗘𝗦 - 𝗛𝗢𝗪 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗬 𝗛𝗔𝗡𝗗𝗟𝗘 𝗔𝗡 𝗔𝗥𝗚𝗨𝗠𝗘𝗡𝗧 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗜𝗥 𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗧𝗡𝗘𝗥.
ft. harry potter, ron weasley, cedric diggory, & draco malfoy.
pairings. harry potter boys x gn!reader.
warnings. fluff, arguing, slight angst.
a/n. if you have any specific harry potter boy you wanna see in my prefrences, request it and i'll add it. <3
word count (all). 1.2k
masterlist. my preferences. send me a request <3.
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— 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑
He usually keeps his temper calm with you no matter what, but today was different for him. With everyone being on him about Voldemort returning and the daily prophet, he needed your support more than anything.
He couldn't put down that stupid daily prophet, at breakfast he read every single lie that sat on the page. You continiously warned him about it, even suggesting he takes a break from reading it and enjoy a breakfast with you, ron, and hermione, but he resisted. He carried it and read it everywhere he went, hardly ever putting it down.
You attempted to pry it gently from his hands before bed, insisting he take a break and try again tomorrow. Instead, he continued with it, getting slightly defensive towards you.
You continued attempting to take it from him, before he snapped, slightly raising his voice.
Your eyes slowly became glossy, filling with tears. You've never seen him so- bad-tempered. Even with others, he would still be upset yet would cool off before thinking about anything to say.
You quickly gathered your things, rushing out of his dorm before he could say anything to even attempt to apologize for yelling. As you reached your dorm your eyes were red with tears still dripping from the duct of your eyes. You eventually fell asleep, without harry and without a comforting thought of him.
The next morning at breakfast he approached you, with open arms which you avoided.
"Y/n, love please just let me tal-" he was interrupted by you hurridely running off, leaving for hours on before he saw you after school, in the courtyard.
He approached you again in the courtyard, this time with flowers and a letter.
"Y/n, please just-just stay and listen this time", he sat everything next to you, along with himself.
"I really am sorry for the way I acted, I swear I'll never raise my voice at you again, it's not what you deserve."
You inched over towards him, placing a hand on his shoulder and the other cupping his face.
"Haz, it's alright just- put down that stupid prophet when I say so" you giggled.
"I won't even go near it anymore" He smirked, placing soft kisses across your face.
— 𝑹𝑶𝑵 𝑾𝑬𝑨𝑺𝑳𝑬𝒀
Ron, being stubborn, had argued with you about how he'd constantly been copying your work.
After long quidditch practices he couldn't make the dedication to completely finish all his schoolwork, so he decided to ask you for help one night. Then, that one night turned to a couple days of work, then a full week of work. To the point where he had barely been trying in his classes, relying on you for the work.
Teachers couldn't help but notice, and eventually called you both out on it, getting you both in trouble. That led to Ron continuing to copy your work, no matter what the teachers say.
You tried telling him off for it, insisting that he wouldn't learn that way. But, instead of hearing you out he'd just left, left from your dorm and continued to ignore you for two days.
Two days later, you found him in class, the one he hadn't been going to due to loads of work and worrying about everything except class, and even though he didn't show it, he was still worried about you even though he was the one who stormed out.
After class he found you in your dorm, your roomates cleared out.
"Y/n.. can I come in?" he knocked softly on the door, an innocent look on his eyes.
You nodded, expecting for him to ask for your help again, ignoring the situation where he walked out on you two days ago. Instead he didn't, he spoke softly, "I know i've been slacking off in school, I didn't expect it to be like this though",
"Okay, continue", you stated.
"I wanna make it up to you y/n, I really do. I'll actually try harder and catch up this time, I mean it."
You slightly smiled, not ecxpecting him to actually remember or care to make it up to you, but he did.
— 𝑪𝑬𝑫𝑹𝑰𝑪 𝑫𝑰𝑮𝑮𝑶𝑹𝒀
Every so often you remembered that Cho was Cedric's ex, and that you weren't the first person to date him. It didn't really get to you, until eventually you saw her desperately trying to get his attention more and more.
When you'd been at Cedric's quidditch matches you seemed to notice you weren't the only one running down to go see him and cheer him on, she was too. After games she always lingered around.
"Cedric, that was great!" she smiled at him, practically drooling over him anytime he did anything.
"Yea, um- thanks." he quickly shrugged, his attention turning back to you.
You let it rest that time, not thinking much of it and not caring that he even talked to her, until the next time she offered to take him out, right after another match.
You knew you could trust Cedric but she was no where near trustworthy.
Later on you found the both of them, her unusually close to his face. You waited a few moments behind a wall, hearing small echos of their voices.
"Ced, please lets just- you know, get back toge-" you interrupted coming from behind the corner, gasping softly.
Cedric looks towards you, attempting to speak up and rush after you, but he knew you were already set off after you saw the two of them together.
The next morning you awoke to an unexpected surprise in your dorm, Cedric smiling down at you.
"Ced, what was that yesterday?" you frowned.
"Love I promise, I want nothing to do with her she just came up to me, I'm all yours just don't be upset" He interlocked his hand with yours, innocent eyes glaring at you.
"It'll never happen again?" you questioned, softly pouting at him.
"Never love, I promise."
— 𝑫𝑹𝑨𝑪𝑶 𝑴𝑨𝑳𝑭𝑶𝒀
With the stress surrounding Draco during his 6th year back, it eventually started to affect you too. You both were most likely always busy, you with the slug club and him with his missions which Voldemort and his father set him on.
He had one coming up that was more than dangerous, a task he'd never done before and couldn't be sure that he would fullfil.
"Dray, you can't do it just tell you father he'd understa-"
You were interrupted by Draco's tone of voice, him lashing out towards you with no regrets it seemed.
You were nearly surprised he'd raise his voice at you, as it nearly never happens but this time it did. Your sight filled with water, you attempted to speak back, but it felt like you just choked. You sit still on his bed, unsure of anything to say.
"I have to go y/n, you don't understand" he scoffed, continuing to pack.
"Dray, please- just please don't do go I really mean it"
He looked to you with glossy eyes, becoming slightly hesitant, he sat next to you, nuzzling his neck into your shoulders.
"Y/n, love, I'm sorry for the way I've been acting it's just-"
"No, I know. Just please don't take this mission, any other one not this one though".
He cupped you cheek gently, nodding his head slightly, holding the mission off.
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oneforthemunny · 1 year
Text
love drunk |bouncer!eddie munson x bartender!reader|
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​​prompt: you and eddie work valentine's day at the hideout.
contains: 18+. alcohol, creepy old guys at the bar, mentions of road head, jealous!eddie, dacrphilia, mean!eddie, oral fem rec, spanking, hair pulling, degrading, p in v sex, aftercare. minors dni.
The Hideout was buzzing, filled with an unusual crowd of unlikely people, but what else did you expect on Valentine's Day?
Broken hearted men washing away their bitterness with beer and whisky, next to galentines celebrating their own freedom and singleness with shots and bad karaoke. The usual boys who were prowling the crowds for women desperate enough to go home with them, spewing horrible pick up lines that usually left the girls cringing and retreating the other way. Then there were the couples, some regulars and some not. They came to celebrate at the high top tables, people watch and enjoy their time together.
You'd been busy since you clocked in a little after four. You knew you'd be here well past last call, but that was alright, because Eddie was here. He was working the door with Tony, both in all black, leaned up at the entrance checking IDs and taking covers. Before your shift, Eddie had picked you up in his van, a dozen roses in the passenger seat.
You'd blushed, gushing to him about how sweet the gesture was. Eddie was sweet, so sweet. You'd never met a guy sweeter. He'd shrugged when you kissed him, smiley and gooey insides. "Anything for my best girl."
The two of you had only been together a few weeks, barely breaking the title of being official. You hadn't expected the gesture really, especially because you both worked. You figured you'd fuck after you got back to his place, you had wore your matching pink set for that reason, but the flowers were an extra effort that had your head swirling.
You sucked him off while he drove you to work as a thank you.
Now, you were pouring shots, mixing drinks, opening beers, collecting tips, slipping the wadded fives even some bigger bills into your bra with a wink and a dazzling smile. You knew the crowd would be big, and the tippers even bigger- the holidays always made people more generous when you were pouring drinks down their throats- so you wore your tightest, lowest top.
Eddie had noticed.
His eyes would catch yours from the door, rolling his bottom lip between his teeth when you bent over, shorts riding up over the nylon stockings you had underneath.
"C'mon, man." Tony laughed, shoving Eddie's shoulder.
Eddie smirked, nodding to the desperate girl at the door, who batted her eyes at him, eyes attempting at what he could only guess was sultry or sexy. He didn't care. They never worked on him anymore.
You poured another shot of whisky, sliding the glasses to the men in front of you. "Hey, sweetheart, take a shot with us." The old man slurred, tie loose and around his neck.
You smirked, adding their drinks to his tab. "Sorry, I'm on the clock." You said with an exaggerated pout. "My manager will get real mad at me."
The men sounded off their displeasure, smacking the bar with open palms so their glasses rattled. "Who, Mickey? I know Mickey, baby, he-he won't get ya in trouble. Not a pretty thing like you."
You knew these guys were big tippers which is the only reason you hadn't had them cut off and removed. They had been whistling, cat calling, and spewing every lewd, vulgar thing that came to their drunken, filthy minds and you and Tasha all night. You both would just look at each other, roll your eyes, and go back to the middle-aged women divorcees who were much nicer and sweeter to you.
"Just one little shot, baby. Hell, I'll pay for it." Jack Harrington, Steve's dad, slurred, grinning at you with a predatory smile. No wonder Steve hated the guy so much.
"I'll do you one better," They guy next to him, Marco- you think, boasted, pulling out his wallet. He slid a crisp one hundred dollar bill out, slapping it on the table. "One hundred dollars and I'll buy the shot. Make it top shelf, sweetheart." He winked, the other guys whooping and hollering with him.
Eddie had looked over at the commotion, dark eyes narrowed on the rowdy group of men. He despised when they came in. Regulars and assholes at that, always hurling objectifying, nasty comments to the bartenders there. Getting so drunk they could barely drive home. They were especially rowdy tonight after dinner with their wives and mistresses, who they hated, before coming here.
Eddie was waiting, just waiting for you or Tasha to give him the sign. Give him the signal that they needed to be gone. He'd take complete joy in tossing them out, making sure they hit the pavement on their way out.
"I tell you what," You started, placing your hands on your hips. You nudged Tasha who watched you carefully, pouring her ale into a glass. "Make it a hundred a piece for me and Tasha, I'll pick the shot, and," You paused, smirking at the way their eyes lit up. "You gotta go sing me a song." You nodded towards the stage.
The men howled in laughter as Marco pulled out another hundred, sliding it next to yours. "Deal, angel." He said smugly. "Any requests?"
You grabbed the money, sliding Tasha her's then sliding yours in your bra. You pulled out a shot glasses, lining them up Patron and a bowl of limes. "Something romantic." You smiled. "It's Valentine's Day after all." 
You pressed your glass against theirs, downing the harsh liquid with a grimace while they cheered you on, celebrating each other obnoxiously. Eddie's jaw clenched from the door, yanking the cover cash from a college aged kid a little too harshly. He knew it was your job, you were just trying to make enough money to pay your rent just like he was, but it didn't make it any less hard when you'd flirt like this.
You made your rounds, pouring, swiping, smiling, and maneuvering expertly around the bar. Stacking glasses, cutting limes and oranges, wiping away spills, chatting with patrons. You even filled up two glasses of water, light ice and extra lemon- the way Eddie liked it- bringing them to the door for Tony and him.
Eddie smiled when you brought it over, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Thanks, baby," Eddie muttered, stabbing his straw on the table in front of him, wadding up the wrapper.
"You need anything else?" You asked, looking at Tony then Eddie.
"Nah, do you? Those guys still bothering you and Tasha?" Tony asked, nodding to the group of men from before.
You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. "No, they're jackasses. Total dicks, but we're fine." You smiled, placing a hand on Eddie's shoulder, squeezing it gently. You didn't miss the way he was tight, tense against your touch.
He tensed even more when Marco got up on stage, sloppily serenading you to ACDC's 'Shook Me All Night Long' with added vulgar dance moves while he pointed at you, adding your name into the chorus lyrics. Eddie was fuming.
Closing time couldn't come soon enough. The love birds and broken hearted left as easily as they came, the miracle of holidays. You and Tasha finished your closing duties, laughing and scoffing while you exchanged stories from the night. Eddie and Tony helped you, tidying up the place, but Eddie didn't have his usual charm. He wasn't cracking jokes, flexing his muscles and exaggeratedly saying 'what he woulda done if he wasn't on the clock'. He was distant, quiet, even with you.
By the time the two of you walked out, your arms looped around his leather clad arm, his mind was reeling. "...I made a lot of tips tonight." You grinned excitedly to him. "It was a pretty good night actually. I thought we'd be dead on Valentine's Day, but I've got enough in tips tonight to pay my rent for the month!"
Eddie huffed, furiously starting the engine to the van. "Yeah, that's great." He muttered. "With how you were actin' tonight, 'm not surprised."
You faltered, eyes furrowing a bit. "Ed, what're you talking about?" You asked. He shook you off, peeling out of the parking lot furiously. "Hey, look at me, are you," You squinted, studying his features. "Are you jealous?"
You couldn't help the little grin that formed on your lips when you asked, eyes lighting up mischievously. Eddie huffed. "'M not jealous." He snapped. "Just fuckin' hate it when you entertain those douchebag guys." He snarled.
You snorted, smugly crossing your arms. "You're jealous." You declared. "Honestly, Eddie, do you really think I give a shit about those guys?"
"You sure act like you do." Eddie bit, eyes flashing over to you. "Takin' shots and talkin' all sweet to 'em. No wonder he sang that shit to you, and you were laughing-"
"-Because he looked like an idiot." You laughed. "Tasha and I we're making fun of him. Everyone was laughing at him." Eddie huffed, a pouty, childish huff that left you grinning.
"They're complete and utter assholes that are good tippers, Eddie. I am repulsed by them, honestly. They're so gross and creepy, and I'm actually a little insulted that you would think they're my type." You snipped, eyeing him carefully.
Eddie's lips pressed together, not necessarily mad but thinking. You leaned closer to him, arms wrapping around his torso, pressing kisses to the exposed, ink skin of his biceps. "Baby, please, you can't seriously think I'd be into them." You said, looking up at him with rounded eyes.
"Just don't like it 's all." Eddie muttered. "Don't like it when they say that kinda shit to you." His fists clenched on the wheel, knuckles whitening. Your heart fluttered.
You hummed, pushing a stray hair behind his ear, tucking it and trailing your finger lightly down his jaw. "Don't be upset, please?" You asked. "It's Valentine's Day."
"That was technically yesterday." Eddie grumbled looking at the clock on his dash, the time read 3:02 a.m.
You sighed dramatically, pulling back so you sat in your seat. "Oh, guess I wore this for nothing then." You said, with a small shrug, looking out the window.
You felt Eddie's eyes on you. "Wore your work uniform?" Eddie snorted.
Your eyes flashed at him, biting back a smile. "No-o," You sing-song, batting your eyes at him. "What's under it, silly." You teased.
You'd been more than happy to show Eddie once you got back to his trailer, his mood lightening severely with the reveal. You'd kneeled on the edge of his bed, pink hearts smattering the see through material of the bra and panties, leaving very little the imagination.
Eddie dropped to his knees when he saw you, hands roaming all over your waist, legs, hips, squeezing and grabbing at anything he could, eyes wide and mouth watering. You looked like an angel, an angel he was about to ruin.
He didn't taken your panties off the whole night. He licked you right through the thin material until they were completely soaked from you and him. He'd pulled your bra down under your tits, so they were pushed up and presented for him while he sucked bruises into the delicate skin, marking you completely.
When he did fuck you, after you were writing and begging under his touch, he was relentless. Pounding you into the sheets until you couldn't even utter a sound, moans and gasps caught in your throat, tears streaming down your face.
"Yeah? You like that, don't you?" Eddie asked, hand cracking down on your upturned ass, gripping the skin as he pounded into you. "Like being fucked like the little slut you are, don't you?"
You drooled into the sheets, tears and saliva mixing into the pool beneath you. Eddie was fucking you with vigor, much more than you expected after a late night, busy shift. Your legs shook, clamping around him again with a small whine.
"Aw, you gonna cum, baby? Gonna cum all over my cock, huh?" Eddie cooed mockingly towards you.
Your eyes rolled back, crying when you came, then gasping when he yanked your hair back, pulling you up so you were flush against him, one arm around your torso, the other tweaking your sensitive nipples.
"God, I've wanted to fuck you all night." Eddie growled in your ear. "You wore those short little shorts didn't you? Had to wear them tonight, didn't you, you little slut?"
You cried, tears leaking down your cheeks, gripping onto his wrist. You were so sensitive, every thrust of his cock felt like a jab into your belly, a blow that sent you spiraling into your white hot abyss.
"Fuck, look at you, so pathetic." Eddie sneered, gripping your jaw harshly. "Wish those guys could see you now, huh? See you crying' like this. And over what, huh? Over my dick?"
You whimpered, lip wobbling as you clenched around him. Eddie groaned, tilting his own head back. You loved it when he was mean, when he fucked you like he owned you. Eddie let you fall forward into the mattress face first, gripping your hips as he snapped his hips into yours rough and purposeful.
You gripped the sheets, clenching hard around him as he muttered behind you, bringing his hand down twice on your cheeks before cumming, buried deep into your sopping pussy.
Eddie bent at the waist, falling on top of you gently, sweaty bangs pressed to your back, pressing kisses up and down your spine. "Holy shit," Eddie breathed out, deep and slow, eyes still closed.
You whimpered when he pulled out of you, leaving you aching and empty. You cheeks were sticky with tears and smeared makeup, legs still shaking even as Eddie went to the bathroom to grab a rag and clean you.
He took his time with you after, cleaning you up slowly, pressing kisses into you cheeks, neck, down your sternum, on your legs. He wiped himself off before throwing the rag into the hamper, climbing into the bed next to you. You were pressed up into his sheets, legs over his torso, arms tangled together, sharing the assorted chocolate that Mickey had given everyone- a thank you for working the holiday.
"You like the fruit ones?" You asked, nose twisting up in disgust.
Eddie shrugged, popping the orange cream filled chocolate into his mouth. "Yeah, 's pretty good. You don't?"
You shook your head, burying yourself into his inked skin, lids heavy as he stroked your hair. "I liked the caramel ones, or the toffee."
Eddie scoffed. "Lame. Everybody likes those."
You giggled, vibrations rocking from your chest to his making him smile. Eddie looked down at you, your fingers wrapped around his sheets, lashes fluttering to fight against the sleep tugging at your eyes.
"Thank you for the roses." You yawned, looking up at him. "No ones ever got those for me before." You admitted.
"Really?" Eddie asked, you shook your head. "That's a damn shame. Glad I'm the first." He grinned, pressing a kiss to your head.
"Happy Valentine's Day, baby."  He whispered, feeling your body sink into his, heavy on his chest. "Maybe next year we'll get the night off, hm?"
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starsandhughes · 9 months
Text
Penalty Box Series— Imagines Edition: Little Bird
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totaalllyyy not projecting a little bit here! (this is a lie. i cried for two hours straight over this song.)
here’s a little wedding planning fic! happy ending! i promise!
warnings: crying, mentions of a rough childhood, particularly absent fathers
word count: ~1.8k
22-23 Season/Summer Series Masterlist
—————
The last thing you wanted while starting to plan your wedding was to have a mental breakdown in front of everyone.
And by everyone, you mean everyone. Trevor, Jack, Quinn, Luke, Cole, Alex, and your essentially adoptive parents Ellen and Jim.
You had your music on shuffle as you started looking at color schemes and flower arrangements. It was great at first— the speaker played Taylor, early 2000s pop music, Morgan Wallen and other country songs, 5SOS, and even some One Direction.
And then Little Bird by The Jonas Brothers came on.
You barely noticed it at first, treating it more like background music. Until the chorus. And the second verse. And the rest of the song.
'Cause I know if I'm doin' my job correct
Nights like these will happen less
So please just keep me in your heart
When you fly into somebody else's arms, little bird
Yeah, yeah
Walked down the aisle, breakin' my heart
Lay down my pride, I know I gotta let you go
'Cause he's gonna love you when I gotta leave you
Gotta believe it when the Lord takes me home
You got a little emotional at the chorus and decided to push past it. It was just a song. But when Joe started singing about a father walking his daughter down the aisle, you lost it.
Trevor was quick to jump out of his seat and wrap his arms around you. He was standing while you were still sitting, cradling your head into his chest and rubbing your back.
“Turn it off,” Trevor said softly, but urgently, to Jack.
Jack ushered to the speaker and unplugged it, ceasing the music in the middle of the next chorus. Trevor and Quinn shared a panicked look. Everyone was dead silent and still, no one knew what to do. The lyrics that got to you were wedding and father related. The whole song is about a father’s love for his daughter, something that your biological father didn’t have for you.
“I won’t be offended if you need Quinn, sweet girl,” Trevor whispered to you. “Just nod your head if it’s him you need.”
“B-both,” you choked out.
That took your fiancé off guard. He wasn’t sure if there was ever a moment where you needed both of the two most important people to you during a breakdown.
“Let’s go upstairs,” Quinn said.
Trevor slowly released his hold and held out both of his hands for you to take. He pulled you up and threw one arm around your shoulder and used his other to place a comforting hand on your upper arm.
You bit back your sobs as you left the kitchen to go upstairs into your and Trevor’s room in the lake house. The second the door closed behind you, you threw yourself into Quinn’s arms, who was sitting on the edge of the bed.
Quinn wrapped you up tight, and Trevor sat down close to you and Quinn and returned to rubbing your back in soothing circles.
“It’s alright, Sissy,” Quinn cooed. “We got you. You’re safe. Let it all out.”
You violently sobbed into your best friend’s chest. Your entire body was shaking; there was no way that the rest of your loved ones downstairs couldn’t hear you.
���Why didn’t he want me?!” you shouted through your cries. Then, softer, “Why didn’t he love me?”
“He didn’t deserve you,” Quinn answered low.
“He still doesn’t deserve you,” Trevor elaborated on Quinn’s words.
You continued to bawl. You sobbed so hard that your head was starting to pound. You sobbed so loud that your throat was burning. The boys stayed mostly quiet, only occasionally offering assuring whispers of “it’s alright,” and “let it out” variations.
Your sobs, over half an hour later, eventually died down into a silent cry with only sniffles as a tell.
“He doesn’t deserve me,” you said weakly.
“That’s right, Quinn agreed. “You decide who deserves you. And I think five year old you made the decision that your biological parents don’t the first time they forgot to pick you up from our house.”
“I always liked it better there.”
Quinn kisses the top of your head, “We liked it better when you were there. We worried when you weren’t.”
At some point during your breakdown, you had laid down in Quinn’s lap. You slowly sat up and turned slightly to dive into Trevor’s chest. You wrapped your arms around his waist and he pulled your legs over so that you were sitting between his legs, turning you towards Quinn so that you could see him and he could still place his hand on you. Trevor put his arms around you and started to stroke your hair while his cheek rested on top of your head.
“You deserve me,” Trevor whispered. “You deserve everything and I plan to give it to you.”
“You already have,” you told him, hugging him tighter.
“Then I’ll give you everything and more. And I’ll tell you every day that you deserve me. And Quinn. And Jack. And Luke, Cole, Alex, Jamie, Ellen, Jim, all our teammates, and every single hockey player that you’ve deemed your son.”
Trevor’s words brought more cries from you, but in a good way this time. Quinn lifted your legs and scooted closer to Trevor so that he could lay your legs across his lap. You kept one arm tightly around Trevor, but you held your other hand out for Quinn to hold.
Quinn grabbed it and squeezed it gently, “I’ve never met anyone more loved than you.”
“You’d probably explode with any more love,” Trevor quipped. He smiled when he got a small chuckle out of you. He always knew when it was okay to lightly joke to help get you feeling better. You love that about him.
“Quinn?”
“Yeah, Sissy?”
“I know I originally asked you to walk me down the aisle, but would you be offended if I asked Jim to?”
Quinn broke out into a smile at your question.
“Not at all. I think it’s a great idea,” he answered.
“How about you officiate us?” Trevor suggested. “And I’ll finally cave and let Y/N have Cole as her Man of Honor instead.”
“I’d be honored,” Quinn said.
You didn’t say it out loud yet, but something about Trevor asking Quinn’s permission to ask you out on a date and then asking him to marry you two brought you immense joy. It felt like your story together was coming full circle. It was perfect.
You held on to Trevor’s hand as the three of you made your way back downstairs. Everyone’s eyes were immediately directed towards you, all of them filled with either worry or sympathy.
Jack got up off the couch and walked over to you, “Want a hug? Or do you want Trevor?”
You gave your brother a soft smile and wrapped your arm that wasn’t attached to Trevor around his waist. Jack’s arms slid around your shoulders as he held you in a firm hug.
“How do you want to ask this?” Trevor asked you.
“Ask what?” Cole asked. “Are you eloping? Are you asking for permission to elope?”
“No, dumbass,” you laughed lightly. “We do have something to ask of you, though. You and um… Dad.”
The room stilled. It had been addressed multiple times that Quinn was walking you down the aisle.
Cole and Jim moved so that they were sitting next to each other on the couch; you and Trevor took a seat on the ottoman.
You turned your attention to Jim, “I’ve already talked to Quinn, and he’s not offended or anything. But Trevor and I— well, I guess mainly me, decided to ask if you’d like to walk me down the aisle instead? You’ve been a dad to me for almost all my life. Not just a father, but a dad, too. And I’d—“
You started to get choked up. Everyone now knew what you were going to ask, but it was clear that you wanted to get it out. Trevor rubbed your back for some encouragement and to help calm you.
“I’d like you to walk me down the aisle,” you said.
Ellen was crying, and Jim had the happiest face on him that you’ve ever seen.
He took your hands in his as his eyes started to water a bit as well, “I’d like nothing more.”
You got up and hugged him, really hugged him. Quinn means so much to you, but you weren’t really sure why you didn’t go with the most obvious and important father figure in your life in the beginning of planning. Hell, you’ve been calling him “dad” since you were in middle school and really started to understand things about life.
You wiped some tears as you pulled away and forced out a fake laugh to shake off some of the intense emotions you were still feeling. You sat back down and faced Cole this time to ask him your next question.
“I know Trevor and I originally asked you to marry us, but since Quinn isn’t walking me anymore, Trevor had the idea of him marrying us instead. He asked Quinn’s permission to date me in the first place, which obviously later turned into us being boyfriend and girlfriend, so I thought it was a perfect idea that he’d be the one making us husband and wife.
“I was originally going to ask Taryn, but I haven’t yet so she doesn’t even have to know. So, Cole?”
“Yes?” he smiled. He knew what was coming.
“Would you be my Man of Honor?”
Cole dived towards you and tackled you into a hug, “I would be HONORED to be your Man of Honor, best friend number two!”
You let out a real laugh as Cole snuggled himself against you even harder to where his face was practically making a permanent indent in the ottoman cushion.
“Alright! Tell me how you really feel,” you teased.
“Nothing else has changed, right?” Jack asked. “I’m still one of Trevor’s best men?”
“Yeah, bud,” Trevor assured him. “I’ve got my groom party set in stone.”
You were really happy with your decision. Yeah, sometimes your past comes back to you with a vengeance, but you just have to take a step back and remember all the good that the bad brought.
Your fucked up family brought you a real family.
A family that every one of your school classmates thought you were apart of anyways.
A family that showed you what a family should be.
A family that showed you what love was.
A family that still shows you what love is.
A family that brought you the love of your life.
A family that brought you the best people in your life.
A family that brought you back to life.
It wasn’t that day, but eventually you were able to listen to Little Bird with a smile. You sing along to it with so much heart and emotion every time; all because of Jim Hughes.
All because of your real dad.
You’ve been a Hughes for seventeen years. And soon, you’ll be Mrs. Zegras-Hughes to finally, legally, solidify that.
You can’t wait.
———
reblogs appreciated! it helps spread the fic <3
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milaisreading · 5 months
Note
could you do a sae itoshi x isagi sister where she sprained her ankle and sae was very worried and overprotective of her please
🌱🩷: Here you go! Thanks for the request 🩷🌱
Warnings: Reader uses she/her. Requests are open
⚽️Blue Lock belongs to Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura ⚽️
Sae Itoshi was usually someone who trusted his gut instincts the best, they were right all the time. So, when he woke up that morning feeling like something bad had happened to someone, or will happen, he felt odd. He barely paid attention to others, aside from a few close people, so why would he be worried for no reason? Sae shook those thoughts away in the beginning and did his usual morning routine. He was back in Japan for the next 2 weeks, so he planned on enjoying the time he had with his family, and try to make amends with Rin.
'Aww! Look at how cute that big brother is with his little brother. So adorable.' Sae blushed and glared at the wall as he remembered (Y/n)'s gushing over the duo they noticed in the park the other day.
'There is no way a nobody will outdo me.' He huffed and grabbed his phone, expecting a message or two from (Y/n),but to his surprise there was nothing. Sae sighed and put the phone away, thinking that maybe it was still too early for her to be awake.
'She needs as much sleep as possible.'
"Why is she not sending me anything? It's already 11." Sae sighed in frustration as he scrolled through his phone, hoping he might have missed a notification, but nothing. So, without really thinking the boy dialed her phone number and waited for a while for (Y/n) to pick up his call. And, after 7 rings, the older Isagi finally answered.
"Hello? Sae?"
"(Y/n), hey! How have you been?" The boy cleared his throat, waiting for an answer from her.
"I have been fine. And you? Did you need something?"
"Good, good. Uhm, say do you want to hang out today?" Sae asked nervously, waiting for an answer.
"I am sorry, Sae. I really can't walk around much for the next few days. Maybe another time."
Her explanation caused the boy's alarm bells to ring, already thinking the worst.
"What do you mean?"
"Ah... this is embarrassing. But, I was helping a neighbor carry something inside and hurt my ankle in the process. Don't worry though, it's nothing serious-"
(Y/n) stopped talking as she heard the line go silent, realizing Sae had ended the call. It was weird, but she didn't think much of it.
'Maybe his mom called him for something.'
"Sis! Don't walk around like that, I could have brought you the water." Yoichi said as he saw (Y/n) in the kitchen.
"Don't worry, Yo-chan. It's nothing serious."
2 hours later, (Y/n) had forgotten about her phone call with Sae and was just watching TV while Yoichi was in his room while her parents  were out buying something. It was a peaceful afternoon, that is until she heard the doorbell ring.
"Hm? We aren't expecting anyone as far as I know." She muttered while slowly walking to the door and opening it.
"Sae? What are you doing all the way in Saitama? And what's with the flowers and bags." The boy looked at her in confusion before that slowly morphed into panic.
"Why are you standing?! You could injure yourself even more!" Sae said as he took off his shoes and walked inside.
"You are worrying too much. I will be fine. Besides, I need to move to get my things-"
"Not anymore! We need to get you to bed." Sae grumbled as he put the stuff down, picked her up, and carried her to the bedroom.
"I am not in life threatening conditions, Sae. I will be fine." (Y/n) grumbled, face red in embarrassment. Sae ignored her protest as he put her in bed.
"Now, stay in here while I get you something to eat. Do you want anything to drink?" (Y/n) sighed at his persistence.
"You won't leave any time soon, right?"
"Nope." Sae nodded his head.
"I am fine with a glass of water, then."
She watched as the boy nodded his head and walked out of her bedroom.
"He is so dramatic. It's just a minor injury."
Sae was now in the kitchen preparing some of the snacks he brought, millions of thoughts racing through his head.
'What would have happened if I didn't come? She could have fallen down and hurt her foot again. She could have hurt her cute face. She could be crying now in pain with nobody to help her.' Sae shuddered as he brought the food and drinks to (Y/n)'s room, only to nearly have a heart attack when he saw her out of bed.
"Why are you not in bed?" Sae asked as (Y/n) looked at him in surprise as she stood near her desk.
"I just wanted to get my phone, I got a message on it- Where did all the food come from?" (Y/n) asked in surprise, unfamiliar with a lot of the snacks he brought. Sae, not happy with the answer, put the tray down and walked to where she was and carried her to her bed.
"Should have waited for me to get it for you. You might get hurt."
"I am not dying-"
"I don't care. You need to rest. Eat now." Sae said, handing her a random snack item to get the phone.
"You really worry too much. Shouldn't you focus on resting before you return to Spain?" (Y/n) asked in worry as the boy shook his head.
"I rested enough. Do you need anything else?"
"N-no." She stuttered out, still embarrassed by the attention he was giving her.
And that was pretty much how the rest of her day went on. Sae would sit near the bed as (Y/n) talked about random things, with the footballer chiming in from time to time. If she needed to get anything or go somewhere, Sae would either pick it up or carry her to the spot. Yoichi, who walked into the room a few times was greeted with a warning glare by Sae and the older observing his interactions with (Y/n).
'He acts like I will hurt her.' Yoichi would think to himself, but he knew his sister was safe with Sae, so he didn't say much.
"This is so adorable." Iyo squealed silently as she, Yoichi, and Issei spied on the duo. Issei and Yoichi said nothing, looking at each other in confusion.
"Do you think it's ok to leave them alone?" Issei asked, earning a nod from Iyo.
"Sae is a good kid. (Y/n) is safe with him. He reminds me of a worried mother hen." Iyo giggled as Yoichi held back a laughter.
'More like a guard dog.' The youngest thought.
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neuroprincess · 4 months
Text
His Favorite Person - Melissa Schemmenti/Female Reader
Melissa Schemmenti/Female Reader
Summary: The moms are going through a difficult time with LuLu's first teeth and a hero comes to the rescue.
Classification: Fluff
Warnings: Well, some realistic motherhood, it's not all flowers. Also, FRIENDSHIP GOALS
Word count: +2100
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Unrevised 
Six months went by in the blink of an eye and with it many challenges of first-time motherhood, the moms could barely breathe properly until the month mark, Luca is very smart and, despite his strong personality, didn't give as much trouble as expected. The redhead is in love with those squeezable cheeks and chubby little doll hands, the loud giggles are the highlight of her days, as well as Y/N's. But the relief and sense of stability has gone as quickly as it arrived, one day the baby is all smiles trying pasta, the next so fussy that getting him to eat becomes a mission impossible. So a week goes by that they would describe as hellish, not only because of the problems with feeding and the understandable irritability due to teething, but also because of the suffering shared with all the pain the boy is going through with the new phase, gums tearing and keeping him awake all night mumbling and feverish, causing general concern. On Friday, they're not sure whether or not to host the weekly couples' dinner; before it can be cancelled, Barb and her husband appear at the door with a pan in hand, worried looks on their faces followed by muffled laughter. At work, Melissa had already been seen with bite marks and obvious signs of not sleeping, the woman just didn't imagine it would be chaotic to the point of leaving her, literally, dishevelled.  
"Where's my handsome little boy?" she greets LuLu excitedly and reaches out to take him from the younger's tired arms "What happened to make you cry, my dear?" and wipes the tears drying on his rosy little face, immediately noticing the high temperature "Poor thing..."  
"Sorry about our condition, I was going to call you to cancel, but we were trying to get the fever down and completely forgot." the teacher whispers, staring at the scene in amazement, the moment her son clings to the friend he stops crying immediately, doesn't seem to be the same little monster who defeated her in exhaustion minutes before "What a sly one! Do you see that?!" she points out indignantly. 
"Well, it's not my fault I'm the favorite." Barbara jokes and walks past them into the house, unsurprised to see a dozen toys scattered around the living room, the kitchen a complete mess, dirty dishes in the sink, open packets and cubes of frozen fruit on the counter, a doctor's recommendation for relief "Kid, was that all you?!"  
"He's a Schemmenti." Gerald jokes, following along, leaving the pie on the nearest surface "How many hours did you sleep today?"  
"Maybe three... or four." the timetables jumble in Y/N's head, she can't remember what time they went to sleep or how many times she woke up in the middle of the night.  
"And it's been the longest night's sleep so far," adds the other, rubbing her eyes.  
"You're clearly not well, why don't you try having a decent bath and getting some sleep while we take care of everything?" he offers, starting to gather up teddy bears and small cars on the carpet.  
Surprised and grateful, the couple exchange glances at this generous offer; the idea of being able to take a bath for more than five minutes, plus a little rest, is tempting, but they are reluctant to let them deal with it instead.  
"Go on, get some rest!" the man insists, shooing them away with a hand wave "We'll take care of everything." 
"Are you sure?" Melissa asks with concern, it seems like a lot to do or maybe she's mentally overloaded to the point where doesn't want someone else to do something she considers an exclusive responsibility "I mean..."  
"Don't be stubborn." Barb interrupts her and goes into the kitchen, putting Luca in the highchair, he doesn't even grumble about not being on lap "Take advantage of our presence until he gets sick of us, this phase is terrible." 
The redhead raises her hands in surrender and Y/N exhales satisfied, tired to the bone, nursing a baby full time takes a lot of time, energy and attention, she can hardly imagine the state of her wife who works all day at school and still tries to give the same support as best she can.  
Looking at Luca, who is calmly sitting down and taking the previously rejected piece of fruit into mouth, Melissa finally gives in.  
"All right, but please call us if anything happens."  
Everything goes very quickly and on autopilot. Before they realise it, the pair find themselves under the shower's hot water, washing each other's hair and sharing non-sexual cuddles, satisfying their longing for quality time together. Motherhood is deep, rewarding and valuable for both, a priority that has guided the small family's decisions and routine, little by little intimacy has been put aside amid the daily demands. They don't blame anyone or anything but the circumstances, they've read that it could happen at a certain point, all the nuances it would bring and they haven't forgotten their promise to stay together, to say "I love you", all the possible clichés to get through the storm without shaking marriage.  
The teacher couldn't hold back a moan on entering the room, every muscle relaxed and the tension drained away, there was a calming sensation, she felt refreshed from the tip of the toe to the last strand of hair. Y/N can say the same, she never thought that a simple shower could feel like a full SPA, even with a massage, she barely lays down on the bed properly and already feels soft hands rubbing damp skin. There are soft smiles, some mischievous, strong fingers squeezing sensitive spots that manage to elicit the happiest sighs, occasionally there are teasing touches and loving bites.  
"Years of relationship and still doves in love." they are surprised by Barbara's sudden appearance, they didn't hear her push the door slightly open "I've brought dinner and some tea."  
She lifts the tray with caprese chicken sandwiches, pieces of pie, red fruit and camomile tea, would offer whisky if it wasn't for breastfeeding, she knows they deserve it when they go through the chaotic teething process, the girls were relatively calm and yet almost destroyed the house when they got their first set of tiny sharp teeth.  
"Get fed and try to rest for a few hours." she put it between the couple "Let's do the same with the little one, he's already struggling to keep eyes open. You deserve a decent night's sleep."  
"So true, I look like a different person now, imagine when I finally get some sleep." the redhead jokes before taking a generous bite of bread, her last meal having been lunch "Delicious!"  
"Did LuLu give you and Gerald much trouble?" the younger smiles fearfully and sips the hot liquid "No crying, no grumbling, no breaking things, maybe we're in a dream."  
"No, he was a little angel... except with Gerard when he tried to give him a piece of cut mango, I'm pretty sure he was trying not to bite him." she confesses the last part in a whisper, they laugh well aware of the implication "He's jealousy incarnate."  
Melissa tosses her hair to side, her expression proud, needless to say he inherited it from her and everyone knows it.  
"Mel once threatened to bite someone." she adds, explaining her friend.  
"And I did." she says even more proudly, the person deserved it.  
"Unbelievable!"  
After all, Y/N still finds herself amazed by her adventures and oddities, she knows half of the stories from others, as the woman hardly ever brags about her achievements. Conversation doesn't last long, minutes later Gerald appears too, Luca agitated in his arms and ready to attack anyone who annoys him, just push at the edge a little. The youngest mother mentions getting up to intervene, only to be stopped by a sign from Barb, who picks him up without a second thought.  
"No, you need a bit of time to yourselves." she reinforces and sets the boy on his feet, kissing the cheeks, leaving a lot of lipstick marks "Today we're going to give them a break, aren't we, cutie?!" 
As if he knew what the topic was, he tries to answer in babbles, all the adults smile at such cuteness. Within seconds he is no longer irritated, an effect that only the one and only Barbara Howard has. She strokes the coppery hair, making him close the eyes immediately, an adorable giggle as he snuggles into her chest, little legs wiggling with joy.  
"I'm starting to be offended by this more than obvious preference."  
"I never tire of saying it, it's not my fault that I'm his favorite person." she shrugs and stands up, stroking the baby's back over the newly laid pyjamas, she inhales the sweet smell, delighting at the contact, her daughters are grown up now and the times when she could lovingly hold them all the time without protest are gone "LuLu and I will see you tomorrow." 
She bends him over so that the mums can kiss him goodbye, but by this point Luca is already unconscious, losing the long and stubborn battle against sleep.  
"Sorry, I'm going to have to say it, I LOVE YOU BARB!" Y/N sighs in pleasure and gives a grateful kiss, then throws herself against the mattress, clinging to the soft blankets "Nothing can convince me that it's not a dream."  
"She needed it too, badly." Melissa reflects and moves closer to the friend, stroking her son's face affectionately "I really appreciate and am very grateful for what you're doing for us, being a mother has been intense and unexpected, we're lucky to have a support like you and Gerald, it's something I never expected in my life. The only reason I'm probably not crying right now is because tiredness overcomes even the tears." she jokes, wrapping her in a tight hug between loving smiles. 
"There's nothing to be thankful for, I love our little prince and that's what friends do."  
The door closes, Howard takes him to the nursery and they wait for a cry or any negative reaction, but the only noises to be heard are footsteps echoing down the corridor and the man humming while doing the housework. They smirk, silence has never been more appreciated than at this moment. The teacher lies down next to her wife, hands running along her robe-covered waist, fingertips brushing exposed skin, mouth meeting the back of neck, leaving a lingering kiss, the younger laughs, turning so that they are face to face, then leans in to bring their lips together.  
"I think we should kidnap Barb." Y/N proposes with a grain of truth.  
"We need to do that, cara mia! I'll take her down and you tie her up, deal?" 
"Deal! But what about Gerald?" she jokes.  
"He can survive without her, we can't."  
"I can't believe we're going to sleep properly, I'm so excited that sleep has fled." she confesses eventually, feeling a new wave of energy coming from nowhere "It's so strange not having anything to do."  
"That's because you're overwhelmed, principessa." Melissa props herself up on elbows so that she's partially seated, the hand that rests on the waist wanders down her curvaceous body and stops at the face she loves so much to see when waking up, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear "But we have this evening to ourselves. God, they're being real heroes today."  
"Yes! I swear that when she took LuLu in the arms I saw her in costume and cape for a millisecond."  
"And he simply stopped crying, it's like she has superpowers."  
"Or she's just his favorite person... in the whole world." Y/N leans over and kisses her, a consolation prize for what she's going to say next "I'm sorry, darling, but that's the truth. You've lost your place to Barb."  
"At least I'm still your favorite?" the redhead makes those abandoned puppy dog eyes, feigning sadness.  
"Always, hottest biter in the world."  
The lights are switched off, they move closer in the soothing darkness and cuddle affectionately, wrapped in the comfort of being in the arms of the one they love. Sleep gradually comes, accompanied by the previous worries about Luca, if he's managed to eat properly, if he's hydrated enough, or if he's lain down in the right position.  
"I can hear your thoughts, Mel."  
"I'm sorry, amore mio." she whispers, a little thoughtfully. Despite her religious upbringing, she's not a fan of most traditions, so baptism hasn't crossed her mind until now, as she watches her best friend and confidant win over her son with her mere presence, creating a beautiful bond "What do you think about inviting Barb to be LuLu's godmother?"  
"Perfect! We couldn't find anyone better than her."
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dontbesoweirdkira · 3 months
Text
Imagine coming home from a long day of running errands to see ¡yandere! Sam Trapani beating one of your admirers to a bloody pulp on your front door step.
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Warnings: Gore, violence, mentions of stalking, obsession, forced relationship
A/N: I drew this at the depths of night when I couldn’t sleep. I haven’t seen really any yandere mafia stuff soooo…… here you go!! Art + headcannon…you may now feast.
Requests: open 24/7
Bonus pt.2
(I mention that the admirer is young, I mean like Sam is 40 so the other guys is late 20’s to early thirties. Sam is just getting insecure about his age)
Sam had been stalking and slowly trying to court you for about a year and he’s getting closer to his goal of finally making you his; but this new guy that just moved in next door is just fucking it alll up.
It first started with the guy going over to your house to introduce himself and harmlessly wanting to be a friendly neighbor. Then quickly become bolder and bolder with his flirtations, much to Sam’s dismay! Could you believe that THE Sam Trapani is extremely jealous of this guy?? Probably 10 years younger and quite handsome, That boy is a serious threat.
You laugh louder at his jokes than you do at sam’s, your clothes are getting much more revealing and the way you prance your little ass over to him anytime he calls your name was seriously eating at him and he’s at his wits end of it. Sam knows he’s getting older but is his charm really that stale now?
Even when Sam is having a full conversation with with you this little shit will come around and inject himself into the whole interaction. Sam even started going grocery shopping on your schedule just to be able to have some alone time with you and yet again this man appears out of the wood works. Every. Single. Time.
(Okay that’s a little dramatic but the point still stands…Sammy cannot keep up with him. He’s finally met his match and he’s so whiny about ittt)
The other guys noticed this and found it extremely hilarious, Trapani wasn’t the hot shit of the town anymore and there was someone younger and more good looking ready to take his place and his girl. They poked fun and joked how Sam was now officially an old geezer and that a young damsel like yourself wouldn’t want anything to do with him. They fed into his insecurities and made everything just ten times worse. Of course they meant no harm, Sam usually wouldn’t be hung up on a girl for too long and plus he still had pretty much every other woman of Lost Haven in his hands so what what the big deal? Why were you so damn special anyways?
“Look Sam,” paulie breathed in between laughs. “Y/N is admittedly very gorgeous but just leave it alone at this point. She’s very obviously more into him than you. What about that broad down at the Corleone…what was her name??”
“Michelle..” Sam gritted in a low venomous tone
“Right, Michelle! Maaaaybeee…you can get her out of that hell hole and I’m sure once she cleans up nicely she’ll be…something of a wife” Paulie erupted into laughter once again after finishing that sentence, barely able to hold back the tears that accompanied it.
Sam already decided enough was enough and there was no point in trying to play this whole love game thing fairly. Going down to your house and giving it to you straight was the only way he could think of doing this. He wanted your love story to feel organic and for your admiration for him to slowly bloom but you’re obviously not getting it. You don’t understand that Sam is the only possible match for you.
So much time stalking, analyzing and carefully articulating every move he made with you isn’t about be washed down the drain just because some bright eyed sucker wants to fuck you. No…it’s okay though. You’re just slightly misguided by all the butterflies and fluff but soon he’ll lead you right back to where you need to be.
As his car approached your door, he noticed a fellow holding a huge bouquet of flowers and a wrapped gift in his hand ready to knock on your door. Obviously Sam’s time was running out far sooner than he had previously expected at that moment something inside of him snapped.
Without thinking any further he got out of his sleek black car and opened the trunk, out of it he grabbed a bat and started towards the young man.
”Oh hey Sam! I’ve been knocking on y/n’s door for quite some time now. Do you know where sh-“ before the young man could even finish his next sentence the bat connected with his head and continued to do so as Sam kept striking him over and over..
Nothing was said out of Sam’s mouth as he beat him to a pulp…actually nothing could be heard throughout the entire neighborhood outside of the thwacking of the bat and the cries that escaped the admirer’s lips, pleading for him to stop. Everyone in the neighborhood silently watch from a distance, they all knew of Sam’s affiliation and no one wanted to be next on Salierie’s list. Even the birds decided to stop chirping in fear they too would meet the same fate as the fellow
This continued on for another couple minutes before a blood curdling scream broke Sam’s attack.
“Sam?!? What the hell are you doing to him????”
Hearing your familiar voice, Sam swiftly stood up to face you, hurriedly trying to explain what happened.
“Look…y/n calm down, this is just a simple miss understanding…”
He flashed a brisk smile and steadily started walking towards you
“Just come with me and we can speak about this over dinner, huh? You’d like that?”
Shaking your head and carefully backing away from the deranged man, you cried out
“No…n-no…no Sam….” A breath passed “Y-you gangsters are all the same…you hurt people without cause, just look at what you did to him! He was a good man!”
Sam for a moment, stopped walking and looked back at the bloody scene he had just created before looking back at you.
“Oh sweetheart…”
He began walking towards you again, this time faster so he could catch your arm.
“…trust me when I say, this isn’t the worst i could’ve done to em’. ”
Pulling you in close to his chest, he moved slightly to the side of your face and lowered his lips to your ear before speaking again,
“I’ve got something to make it up to you, doll face.” Looking down at his bloody and bruised hands, he held a perfectly intact rose…
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riconas · 11 months
Note
Aeon trying a new move on stage and unexpectedly turning someone on…
Fun ensues..
i wrote this FAST. i hope it's alright!
tags: blowjobs, face fucking, the one move bug does during mummy dust (you know the one)
He doesn't mean for it to happen. He'd slept wrong the night before, and his shoulder is sore today, and it's just a moment, really, how bad can it be? Papa won't notice if he props his guitar on his knee for a second, right? The Fantomens are so heavy, too, and Aeon's really not that much bigger than Dew. It's just to take the edge off, honestly. No biggie.
Just so happens that Rain's right beside him. Just so happens that Rain stares and stares, and stares even after he's gone back to playing the Correct Way. He doesn't tear his eyes away, even with Dew pretending to jack himself off on his side of the stage, and that's suspicious because Aeon knows Rain loves to watch Dew jack off.
And Rain sticks to him after that. Leans over his shoulder, tall beanstalk that he is, and tucks his chin against Aeon's neck. Bonks his helmet a couple of times, like he's trying to kiss him, or lick the back of his head.
Aeon doesn't mind the attention. He loves it, in fact. Presses back against Rain, tips his head onto Rain's shoulder, rubs his back against Rain's chest like a cat on a scratching pole. Pushes his hips nice and firm to the front of Rain's pants, and—
"Aeon," Rain warns.
Between the clicking of the metronome in his earpiece and the earth shaking blare of the amps, Aeon barely hears him. He feels him, rather, a gentle vibration in Rain's chest. The urge to purr is overpowering.
He is, unfortunately, far more distracted by the fact that Rain is hard.
"Yeah," he says, even though there's no way Rain can hear him. He pushes back again, and—oh, Rain's grinding against him, humping his ass in subtle circles, pushing that erection into the small of his back. He groans, mind blanking, fingers moving on his fretboard automatically now.
"Later," Rain growls in his ear, and it's a threat. "Wait for me."
Aeon's knees threaten to buckle.
The rest of the ritual passes by in a blur. He kneels for Dew, teases Papa, tosses a setlist to a very nice audience member in exchange for a pretty flower. He gives the flower to Aurora, who pats his helmet and blows him a kiss in thanks. Swiss smacks his ass, as usual, which doesn't help hide his raging boner in the slightest. Cumulus pretends to accidentally step on his toes, which does help, but only slightly.
He stands next to Rain in the lineup. Rain doesn't so much as glance at him, so Aeon tears his eyes away from the bulge in Rain's pants. They bow, and bow again, and when they run off backstage, Rain doesn't let go of his hand.
Aeon wants.
"On your knees," Rain demands, the moment they're back in their dressing room and the door is securely locked, masks and balaclavas strewn aside in a very disrespecting-Papa manner. Aeon drops to the carpet just in front of the door.
From his perch at the dresser, Dew raises his eyebrow. "What did he do?"
"He knows what he did."
Rain's pants are tight. Aeon fumbles with the laces, undoing them with fingers that should definitely be more dextrous than this, and tugs his pants down just enough to free his cock. It springs up in his face, stiff and leaking. He wraps his hands around the base, licks his lips, and swallows him down to the hilt.
"Shit," Rain groans. "Wanted this since you pulled that stupid move. Wanted to put you on your knees right there in front if everyone."
"He's a good boy," Dew says, and now there's a smirk in his voice, an undertone of mischief. He walks over slowly, slow enough that his shadow grows on the ground in front of Aeon, and threads his fingers through Aeon's hair so he can push it back, out of his face. "Aren't you, bug? Gonna let Rainy fuck your face?"
He says it so casually. Aeon blinks, and nods. The sound of Rain's cock moving in his throat is wet, sloppy. He takes Rain's hand and puts it on the back of his head in encouragement.
Dew slaps his cheek gently, feeling for the shape of Rain's dick inside his mouth. "Do it."
Rain thrusts, and Aeon gags. He forgets how big Rain really is, how it feels when he forces his way down Aeon's throat, past that tight ring of resistance. Aeon won't say he's the best at giving blowjobs, but he'd like to think he's decent, at least. He'd like to believe the sounds Rain's making are because of him.
"Deeper," Rain orders. "Relax your throat. You can take it deeper."
He massages the sides of Aeon's neck, coaxing him to let go. Determined and insistent. Aeon closes his eyes, braces his hands on Rain's thighs, and swallows.
"Fuck!" Rain shouts, then presses the back of his hand to his own mouth, muffling himself. "Fuck, just like that. Again, Aeon, good boy—"
Oh, Aeon is ruined. He's addicted. He can't get enough. He's going to pull that move at every ritual after this, going to pull it when they rehearse at the Abbey, just for the chance to get Rain like this again. He hears the delighted chime of Dew's laugh, a hot palm at the back of his neck.
Dew's next, he realises, with no small amount of satisfaction.
"You like that, don't you?" Dew asks, hands roving all over his face, all over his chest. "Back up a little. Against the wall, just like that."
Pressed to the wall like this, Aeon is cornered. He could gag, choke, push Rain's hips away, but he wouldn't be able to escape. He's almost ashamed how much it turns him on.
"Gonna cum in your mouth," Rain breathes, and Aeon has just enough time to take a deep breath through his nose before the first drops hit his tongue, warm and salty and so very good. He gazes up at Rain through his lashes as his throat works to swallow, blinking reflex tears out of his eyes. He wants to hear it again.
Rain yanks him off his dick the second he starts to soften.
"You came so quick," Dew says to Rain, never taking his eyes off Aeon. "Is his mouth really that good?"
They're talking about Aeon like he isn't even there. He'd be lying if he said it didn't make him feel some kind of way.
Aeon paws at Rain's pants. "I am right here."
Rain ignores him. "See for yourself," he replies, petting over Aeon's sweaty head. To Aeon, he says: "You'd better have swallowed all of that. I don't want to see a single drop on the floor."
Aeon nods. He's feeling s little lightheaded from holding his breath for so long. He starts to clamber to his feet, but Dew stops him with a hand on his shoulder.
"My turn," he says, his voice steely.
Rain hisses, pulling Aeon up by the arm. At some point between Aeon swallowing and Dew ogling, he must have pulled his pants up. "No. You'll get your turn later. Come, Aeon. Let's get you cleaned up."
Still reeling, Aeon lets himself be let out to the showers, feet dragging before his brain catches up. Dew stares as he goes, an unspoken promise in his eyes.
"You okay?" Rain murmurs, once they're out of earshot. "I was pretty rough."
"All good," Aeon says, albeit a little hoarsely.
Maybe, if he's lucky, Papa will let him room with Dew.
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nanamimizz · 4 months
Text
tags: 18+ minors dni, a/b/o verse, fem reader, omega reader, alpha john, licking, marking, themes of jealousy and possessiveness. for @prettyboykatsuki with their explicit permission.
synopsis: jealousy comes knocking on our door no matter what or when or why.
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He doesn’t smell like you, it’s the first thing you realize when John Marston walks back into camp after taking Old Boy to the horse hitches with the rest of them. It makes your body twitch and stall for just a moment - you spill some water on the table that Mr.Pearson reprimands you for and you can only half apologize. You watch with sharp eyes how he moves, how he walks and how John easily slots himself next to the other men at the table with his hands on his gun belt even when he is passed a bottle of whiskey.
The camp is large and has a variety of scents and smells, one gets used to them and you can identify them as easily as picking out the white clouds from the blue sky. Pine for Charles, lavender for Mary-Beth and firewood for John Martson who is currently being covered by the scent of roses and cherries that you know no one at camp smells like and it makes something inside of you insane at this outsider’s scent. It’s enough to make you excuse yourself, marching over to the scarred man and tugging him behind you, away from the men who watch with amused expressions on their faces as John almost trips with the force you pull him into your shared tent.
The thick wooden beam that supports the middle of the tent is your witness stand as you push the taller, broader alpha to the wood and hold him there by the shoulders, nails digging through the sleeves of his coat. There’s an alarmed undercut to his firewood and brandy scent, agitation and nerves biting against your own as you bare your teeth at him.
“What is it with you, woman?” He asks you, dark brows furrowed and his scowl on his scared face would make anyone cower but you with your stubborn fearlessness that you push him further against the wood as the sweetness of your foreign scent turns sour in your agitation.
“Why do you smell like that - like some, fucking tramp?!” You hiss, voice low but venomous and John has no doubt that if you had a tail it would be flickering behind you with your jowls peeled back like some sort of feral hellcat. John frowns, brows pinched as he tries to free his arms from your grip.
“What you mean? I smell fine.” He throws back, bringing the lapel of his jacket to sniff half heartedly - picking up on nothing out of the usual. You puff, muttering some words under your breath. The only ones he catches are calling him the village fool as you crowd him, pressing yourself flush to him and John is happy that you closed the tent behind you so no one at camp can see how the fullness of your figure perfectly melts into his. There’s a flush to his cheeks that was not there before and you can’t notice it on how you feel sick on the scent of roses. On the tips of your toes, you press your face onto his neck and rub against the scent glands there. Pressing and rubbing until your cheeks shine with the scent of firewood and musk and brandy as you huff into his skin. Your tongue sneaks out to lap at the oils and John jumps beneath your silken touch as you moan softly against his flushed form. The salt of him melds onto your mouth as his scent clouds your mind and the sour-mango scent fogging the enclosed space of the tent blooms in golden nectar and clove.
It’s enough to make him moan, enough to make something heady flush in his mind as your teeth once bared nip and suck until the alabaster skin of his throat turns into purple petals of the jarul flower you would catch along the coasts. You pull away only to be tugged back and John’s voice is reduced to raspy little sounds in your ear as you lick, bite and suck at the other side of his neck until you can see the indents of your teeth as red as a sunset. If you could, you would have stayed there for hours, scenting and marking your John until he reeked of mangos and clove and henna leaves and so many things from the other side of the world.
“You’re mine, don’t ever - don’t ever come back smelling like you ain’t.” You mutter in between nips of your sharpened teeth.
So he’d never smell of anything other than you ever again.
But his name is called by Hosea, who’s voice is like a spear of sobriety through the veil of omega-posession and alpha-want that makes you pull away. John is a vision and you are too, red faced and panting; face slick with drool and oils from his scent glands. Dark eyes look at you with a wanting so deep you are tempted to disobey Hosea’s call until it rings out again clear as day. It makes John swallow, ducking his head and running a scared, calloused hand through his head as he nods to you.
“I’ll see you later, um…okay. I’ll see you tonight. Here.” He mutters, ducking away and out the tent flap cursing when he hears some of the men holler at the marks on his neck and the heavy scent of omega on his clothes. You find yourself unbothered as you step out and return to Mr.Pearson who finds himself unable to look you in the eyes.
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knowiloveyoubabe · 10 months
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Beautiful Baker Boy
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Word Count: 1.7K Warnings: fluffyyyyy Summary: Beautiful baker boy meets lovely florist (gender neutral Y/N)
The summer sun bore down on Y/N’s back as they bent over the outside display, silently cursing the lack of clouds in the sky. They rub the back of their neck, where the blistering beam had strangely focused, gently moving around a few bouquets with their other hand. 
They step back, hands on their hips, slowly scanning the small display in front of the tiny flower shop.
“That’ll do, I guess.” They mutter to themself, using the back of their hand to wipe some sweat that had started to collect on their hairline. 
“Y/N, darling!” Their elderly boss, the shop owner, calls out for them from inside the store. 
“Coming!” Y/N hurries inside, their mind still on the flower display.
“I’m heading out soon, love. I don’t want to be late meeting the missus, I still have to swing by the bakery!” His wrinkles become more prominent as he smiles, wiping his hands on the apron wrapped around his waist. Y/N’s hand found its way over their heart as their own smile grew.
“Will you be okay on your own for the rest of the day?” He asks, removing his apron and reaching for the special bouquet he had arranged for his wife of over four decades. Y/N nods their head, smile beaming.
“Of course! Don’t worry about me, you trained me, remember?” They brush their sweat-dampened hair out of their face, admiring their mentor and the love he had for his wife.
“I know, darlin’. Thank you,” His smile lines deepened along with his crows feet as he pats them on the shoulder, nursing the bouquet with his other arm. He nods his head at them, “See you tomorrow!”
“Alright, have fun!” Y/N calls out after him as the door shuts behind him with a ding of the bell. 
Soon after their boss left, the day fell into a bit of a lull. They got a few things done around the shop, helped a few customers, all in an attempt to avoid the behemoth task of organizing the flowers in the back room. But the minutes ticked away like hours and Y/N felt as though the boredom would soon drive them crazy. They groaned as they got up off of the stool behind the cash register and dipped into the doorless back room where they began sorting out the orders. Y/N had barely made a dent in the work that needed to be done before they peeked at the time, noticing it was almost time to close up shop.
“Hello?” Y/N heard a familiar voice from the front, confused as to how they didn’t hear the bell signaling that someone was entering the shop. They peek their head out of the room to catch a glimpse, their heart jumping to their throat when they see the back of the customer's curly head. 
Oh God. Panic set in when they realized who the sultry voice belonged to.
It was Harry, the beautiful baker boy who worked just across the street. Y/N had developed an almost delusional crush, Harry having made many an appearance in their maladaptive daydreams during the slower days at the flower shop. Since the first day they met, Y/N hadn’t been able to get him out of their head. So one would think that they’d be prepared for his weekly visit to the flower shop. “Coming!” Their voice cracking, deepening the blush already settling on their cheeks. They pray that they look somewhat presentable when they leave the back room, their eyes instantly meeting with his. 
“Hey, Y/N.” He smiles, his lovely green eyes scanning their face. 
“H-Hey, Harry.” Y\N wipes their sweaty palms on their apron, trying not to stare at the tattoos on his tanned arms. “Already time for your weekly bouquet?”
Harry chuckles, nodding and rubbing the back of his neck.
“Yeah, I just closed the bakery, thought I could also drop off some of these.” He reaches into his large tote bag, pulling out a brown paper bag. The smell of freshly baked bread and parmesan cheese filled the air in the tiny shop as Harry placed the bag on the counter next to the register.
“Cheese buns.” Y/N says breathily, unable to hide the smile spreading on their face.
“Your favorite!” Harry’s dimple deepens as his smile widens. Y/N’s heart raced in their chest.
“You remembered?” 
“Of course, it was one of the first things you said to me.” A slight blush appears on the beautiful man's cheeks as he nudges Y/N’s shoulder. They both laugh lightly as they recall Y/N fumbling over their words as they ordered from the bakery for the first time. The cute boy behind the counter had been wearing a sleeveless shirt with a bandana in his hair, flour on his face and arms, and a dimpled smile. 
Y/N shook the image from their head, worried they’d embarrass themself even more.
“You gonna look around?” They changed the subject quickly, clearing their throat. Harry nods, putting his tote down on the counter next to the bag of cheese buns. 
“Yeah, but please, don’t let me get in your way.” He lays a gentle hand on Y/N’s arm, sending a chill through their body. 
“You’re never in the way.” Y/N spoke softly, biting at the skin on the inside of their cheek. Harry’s lips parted slightly, almost as though he was about to say something before clearing his throat abruptly and smiling, a faint blush appearing on his tanned cheeks. 
“I-I should close up the shop.” Y/N looks away from his gaze, trying not to lean into the warmth radiating from his body.
He gently squeezes their arm before releasing his soft grip, allowing them to maneuver around him, to the front of the shop. 
Y/N brought the display inside, cleaned up, and stored everything where it belonged, all while watching Harry from the corner of their eye. 
“Alright, I think I’ve finished.” Harry announces as Y/N finishes up the last of their tasks. They meet him at the register, catching a glimpse at the beautifully curated bouquet.
“Sunflowers, white spray roses, yellow billy balls, and mini hydrangeas.” He lists off each flower in the bouquet. 
“Woah, look at you! You should be the one working here.” Y/N giggles. Harry follows suit, their giggles filling the small shop. Harry hands Y/N the bouquet as they joke about how funny it would be if they switched places, Y/N at the bakery and Harry at the flower shop, discussing the disasters that would ensue. As Y/N sorted through the bouquet, wrapping it up in the nicest brown paper in the shop, a realization hit them.
“Wait, Harry,” Their eyebrows furrow, turning to face him, “These flowers, they’re my-”
“Your favorites.” He bit his lip, picking at his nails nervously. 
“My favorites.” Y/N repeats breathlessly. Harry rolled his bottom lip between his teeth, both of their bodies unmoving.
“Your partner is really lucky.” Y/N says, smiling thinly and inhaling sharply, turning back to the task at hand. Their hands shook as they attempted to tie the twine around the wrapped bouquet, their brain on overdrive. Their mind was so loud, they barely heard the shuffle of Harry’s feet as he got closer, towering behind them.
“I don’t have a partner.” He whispers, barely loud enough for Y/N’s ears. Their body stills, as does the air surrounding the two. The silence between them thickened, the tension swelled.
“You don’t have a partner.” Y/N cuts through the silence, not daring to turn around. Harry’s hand cupped their elbow, tugging lightly, almost begging them to turn around and face him. Y/N hesitated, terrified that he may hear their heart pounding against their chest. 
“Y/N…” His voice soft and deep, beckoned them to face him. Y/N inhaled deeply, slowly spinning around, Harry’s hand still cradling their elbow. Their eyes meet, the tension becoming heavier as Harry licks his lips, parting them. 
“Can I kiss you?” He rasps, his eyes trailing down to their lips. Y/N wasn’t sure if they couldn’t find the words or if they were just unable to speak, nodding their head, entranced. Harry released a sharp breath before his other hand found its way to Y/N’s jaw, pulling them closer, his lips meeting theirs. Y/N snapped out of their trance, wrapping their arms around Harry’s neck and pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. There was a hunger between them, one they were unaware was present in the other. Soft hands pulled and caressed as they released the pent up tension. It seemed as though they were the only two in existence, Harry held Y/N like they could disappear without a trace any second now. 
Tap Tap Tap
Startled, they release their grip on one another, Y/N’s face whipping in the direction of the person tapping on the glass door of the shop. A middle aged man with brows furrowed and an annoyed look stood beyond the glass, a hand on his hip. 
“Excuse me, are you open?” He yelled through the glass. Harry snickered, used to the irritable side of the service industry. Y/N groaned, signaling no to the man.
“No, we’re closed!” They exclaim, tapping their wrist with their finger, as if they were tapping a watch. The man on the other side of the glass huffs in frustration, rolling his eyes and walking away.
“Cockblocked by the service industry, damn you capitalism.” Harry giggles, wrapping his arms around Y/N’s waist. They laugh, their hands finding their way to his arms as Harry dips his face closer, laying a gentle kiss on the top of their head. 
“Let me take you to dinner,” He mumbles in their hair, “I’ve been dying to take you out.” He pulls back, looking at their face. Y/N bites their lip, nodding, in stark disbelief that this is happening. Harry smiles, grabbing the finished bouquet and placing it in Y/N’s hands, leaning in and laying a sweet kiss on their lips.
“Wow, I’ve got a date with the beautiful baker boy.” Y/N mutters against his lips, causing him to smile and bump their nose with his.
“And I’ve got a date with the lovely florist.”
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moonlight-tmd · 5 days
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Blitzbee, cons are good a.u.
Blitz and Bee have been planning date night for a while, but Sentinel's team pop in for (insert reason).
Bee's team have been trying to distract Sentinel's so the two can enjoy their date.
Hmm I will say it happened like this:
Bee and Blitz have been openly dating for a little bit, Bee team is slowly getting used to that fact and try their best to not hate on Bee. Bee's been getting more comfortable bringing up his plans with Blitzsuch as dates, sleepovers and general trips to see stuff. Bee was supposed to go on another date with Blitz when Sentinel and his team decided it would be a great time to come visit for a check up! That meant no one is allowed to leave or else they will be doomed with suspicion.
Bee was already gone and Optimus couldn't comm him to come back so the best option was to play a trick- it landed on Bee being sick and no one should go and see him. Sentinel of course was too persistent and Ratchet had to put a force field on the medbay door to not let Sentinel in.
In the meantime Bee was having a very romantic date at the edge of the city; flowers, pretty lights and fancy food, all that stuff. And of course, cheesy romcom compliments served out by both of them. It couldn't be better....
But it can be worse!
Turns out some wandering fool called in to report Decepticon sighting (Bee was too smol to be noticed thankfully) and who came to investigate? Sentinel! Op tagged along just ot be safe... and boy was he glad he did.
Sentinel saw Blitz and immediatelly charged in, Bee had barely any time to hide. Op took the chance to grab Bee and push him in some ditch. Sentinel chased Blitz for a bit before the con flew away, in the meantime Op talked with Bee about what happened and apologized profusely- he didn't get to do it much before Sentinel called him as he was coming back.
There wasn't anywhere Bee could hide good so in last attempt to do so he jumped on Op's back and held onto the small portion of his shoulders and positioned himself in a way that his torso would hide him from view.
Op could not be more stressed as Sentinel approached him, thankfully he didn't even seem to take notice of Op being nervous and went away to search the area in case Blitzwing left something of value. (the picnic was completely destroyed by the fight, sadge.)
Bee managed to get away just fine, he snuck his way into his room thru his window and waited until Elite Guard left. it sucked that his date was abruptly stopped like that, he checked in with Blitz later, the big con was quite annoyed.
They stayed on call til late at night, hopefully the next date wouldn't end like this one, they would just have to hope.
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