#please I’ve gone one week without a session

[onlyhereforthestories]

Bumpy History - Part 2 (Aitana Bonmati x Reader)

I'm so sorry this took so long I went home for the weekend and got busy seeing family. Here is part 2 now! Part one here

Today was the day, you had spent the summer figuring out what you felt for Aitana and running through your head what you wanted to do in terms of those feelings and you had come to the same conclusion every time you thought about it. you wanted to get to know her. You wanted to know the way she worked, you wanted to know what she thought about thing and more than anything you wanted to get to know what made her, well her.

You had spent a lot of your summer away with various girls on the team, this included a week away with Leila and Patri in Mallorca, as well as a weekend trip with Alexia to Malaga. During all these trips you spoke to the people you were with about what you wanted to do and what it meant for you.

Patri was the one who told you to go for it as soon as the team got back together for preseason training and that’s how you found yourself here. The team had gone out to the pitch for warm-ups, Aitana was the last one to have her check-up so was slightly later and so you waited. All the confidence you had built up went when she strolled into the changing room in her football shorts and a sports bra.

“Mierda, y/n you scared me. I thought I was the last one. What are you still doing here you should be training.” You couldn’t stop your eyes from wandering to admire the woman’s mid-drift, well that was until she cleared her throat.

You brought your eyes back up to her face only to see her eyebrows raised and a slight teasing glint in her eyes. “Lo siento, I um wasn’t expecting this. I wanted to speak to you if that is okay?” You could feel your cheeks heating up, why this woman turned you into a gay mess with one look at her abs you would never know.

“Sure but we have training so make it quick.” She wandered over and sat next to you, still without a top on.

You contemplated your next words for about a second before saying fuck it and speaking. “Put a shirt on first please, you're distracting me.” If you were shy before, the woman was seeing it fading in front of her eyes. She gave you a slightly confused look but got up and grabbed her training top before joining you again.

“Okay, so I have spent the whole summer thinking about our history and how we’ve interacted over the years and how I want that to change. I don’t know what happened when we were younger but I know that neither of us wants to communicate that way anymore. Well for you it seems like you don’t want to communicate at all and if you don’t then obviously I’ll have to respect that and walk away but I know I don’t want that.” You paused to look at the woman sitting next to you and were met with her eyes focused fully on you, and when she nodded you knew she was listening and you could carry on. “You are on my mind a lot. The last year I have been wondering more and more how you spend your days when we are training or playing, I’ve wanted to make sure you are okay when you look sad. I want to be one of the people you laugh with at training, but most of all I want to get to know the real you. Not the one you semi-show me now.”

You both sat there next to each other thinking over what you had just said, and when a few minutes passed you knew she wasn’t going to say anything. “Okay I understand, I’ll see you out there.” You tried to keep the hurt out of your voice but you knew you were never good at hiding your emotions.

You didn’t speak to anyone all session, you were all in your head and beating yourself up forever thinking you were good enough for someone. After the warm down you ignored both Leila and Patri’s shouts for you to wait up and you walked straight out of the grounds and to your car. What you weren’t expecting was to turn your key in the ignition and look in your rearview mirror only to see Aitana standing there stopping you from reversing out the space.

You wound down your window and stuck your head out the opening, “Aitana move, I just want to go home.” You were desperate and you could hear it in your own voice but you didn’t care, all you wanted to do right now was cry out the rejection.

“I’m coming with you.” She didn’t give you a choice in the matter just walked down the side of the car and got in the passenger side. You didn’t have the strength to fight her on this one, not when you saw Leila and Patri approaching.

“Okay fine but I don’t have anything more I want to say to you.” And with that, you pulled out of the stadium leaving behind two very confused best friends.

The journey home was silent, neither you nor Aitana said a word. Both take the time to think through what had happened today and what you wanted to do about it. Aitana was going between looking at you and out the window next to her, her mind a mess of ifs, buts and what-ifs. You on the other hand spent the whole time putting all your energy into keeping your eyes on the road and not on the woman beside you. You could feel her eyes on you on and off and it was making it hard to focus.

When you pulled up at your apartment complex you didn’t give the woman in your passenger seat the chance to even undo her seatbelt before you were out of the car and heading towards the entrance. Aitana grabbed both your bags from the floor in front of her and sped to catch up with you, which she did just as you were stepping into the elevator.

As the elevator doors closed, you both stood in silence. The tension in the air was thick, and neither of you seemed sure on how to break it. Aitana shifted nervously from one foot to the other, before finally breaking the silence. "Y/n, I didn't mean to upset you earlier. I really wasn't expecting you to say all those things, and I didn't know how to respond," Aitana admitted, her voice filled with emotion.

You glanced at her, seeing a vulnerability in her eyes that you hadn't expected. It was a stark contrast to the aloofness she had displayed on the field. "I understand," you replied, your voice softer now. "I know I surprised you, and I'm sorry if I put you on the spot. It's just… I've been thinking about it for a long time, and I wanted to be honest with you."

The elevator reached your floor, and you both stepped out. Aitana followed you to your apartment door. You hesitated for a moment before turning to face her. "Aitana, I don't want things to be awkward between us. I really do want to get to know you better and be friends. But if you're not comfortable with that, I'll respect your boundaries." She looked at you, and you could see a mix of emotions in her eyes. After a moment, she nodded slowly. "I want to get to know you too, Y/n," she admitted. "I've always been guarded, and it's hard for me to open up to people." You offered a warm smile, feeling a sense of relief and joy that she was willing to see what could come of getting to know each other.

"I understand, let's take it one step at a time there is no need to rush. We can start by training together, then maybe getting to know each other better outside of Barca, and see where it goes from there." The smile on Aitana’s face appeared as soon as you finished speaking. "That sounds like a great plan."

With that being said, you exchanged phone numbers, and Aitana said she'd text you later to speak about training plans. As you both said your goodbyes, you couldn't help but feel a sense of hope. Maybe, just maybe, this was the beginning of a new chapter in your bumpy road with Aitana. Who knows what could come of this but what you did know was that you will be glad to see the back of the tension.

#woso x reader #woso imagines #woso imagine #aitana bonmati imagine #aitana bonmati x reader

[calzone-d]

Only You (Ted Lasso x Fem!Reader)

Pairing: Ted Lasso x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Ted have a moment in a closet at Roy and Keeley’s wedding.

Warnings: feelings, handjob/oral sex (m receiving), sassy (she is a warning of her own)

Word Count: 3.2k

a/n: i’m back! i’ve missed being active on here and writing, so i’m really excited to get this one posted. my requests are OPEN, so send things in! let me know what you want to see and i’ll either write it into a fic or do some headcanons or we can just talk!

You can find my masterlist here.

————-

It was a warm, sunny Saturday. The perfect day for Roy and Keeley’s wedding. You spent all morning helping Keeley get ready, and by the time she walked down the aisle she was buzzing with excitement. The morning had gone by in a blur, and it wasn’t until right before the ceremony you were able to check your phone.

Ted: Everything going okay?

Y/N: Yeah! We’re almost ready. See you in a few ;)

You and Ted’s friendship had slowly become flirty and more physical over the past few months. Nothing too extreme, but he now greeted you with a smile and a hug in the mornings. When he walked you home after your nights at the pub with him and Beard, a soft kiss on the cheek came after his goodbyes. Your favorite part, though, were the kisses that you now shared during your weekly post-match movie nights.

What started out as a soft peck had now become the occasional make-out session. Other than Sassy, you knew Ted’s sexual experience had been somewhat limited. With that in mind, and his most recent drama with his ex wife, you didn’t want to push him too far too soon. After being his best friend for so long, you’d started developing feelings for him. What you imagined would be the best hookup of your life, wasn’t worth sabotaging your chance of being with him.

You let out a content sigh as you breathed in Ted’s scent. He smelled like laundry detergent, and you could smell the light notes of his cologne from where your face was pressed to his shoulder. He’d chosen a rom-com for this week's post-match movie night.

The couple on scene held each other in a dramatic embrace before partaking in an even more dramatic kiss. Rom-coms weren’t your forté, but you loved hearing Ted ramble about them. Ted’s arm tightened around you while he watched as if he were scared you were going to get up and leave. You slowly lifted an arm from its place tucked between you to drape over his stomach. Ted relaxed even more under your touch as you lightly grabbed at the fabric of his shirt, just reminding him you were there.

As the ending unfolded you didn’t pay much attention, until you heard Ted speaking your name.

“Y/N?”

You tilted your head to look at him, not wanting to move from where you were now halfway in his lap. His face was so close to yours that you could smell the wine on his breath from dinner.

You heard him speak, “Do you want to watch another one? If not I can go-“

“No! None of that, it’s late and you’re buzzed.. You can stay here tonight. You know I don’t mind..”, your eyes were glued to his as he trailed off.

Instead of a response you just got a soft hum. Not that it mattered, you were too busy taking in his features anyway. Your eyes traced from his freckles, to his perfectly pointed nose, and when you reached his lips it’s like a switch flipped in his mind. The hand resting on your shoulder came up to stroke your hair, as it often did, but after a few seconds it moved around to cup your cheek.

You heard him gulp before stuttering, “Can I.. kiss you?”. His eyes slowly searched yours as you responded, “Please.”

Your eyes fluttered closed as he pressed his lips to yours. After a few seconds you both pulled away, hearts racing, and went right back in without missing a beat. As you kissed he held you tight, arms holding onto you in such a gentle Ted-like manner. When he pulled away, your breathing had picked up and your cheeks were flushed, and you could only giggle as you pushed your face back into Ted’s shoulder.

That became a weekly thing. When one of you had a particularly stressful week, when something good happened, when something bad happened. At movie nights and outside the Crown & Anchor after Beard went home. In your office at the club long after everyone had gone home.

Neither of you talked about it. Ted was worried you just wanted to hookup, like Sassy. For you, his feelings were legitimate and the idea of being shot down actually hurt. You were worried he didn’t feel the same, or maybe had legitimate feelings for her. After all, you did hear about his failed attempt at asking her out a few months back. Luckily she hadn’t come around since, and you were hoping it would stay that way.

You and Ted told each other just about everything, and you knew if he’d seen her since, he’d tell you. Deep down, you just hoped the next time she dropped in, she wouldn’t spend the night with Ted.

Your fears were put up to bat as you lined up at the altar. There she was, sitting towards the back by herself. Surprisingly, Keeley didn’t ask her to be part of the bridal party. Since Roy only asked Ted and Beard to be his groomsmen, she felt she should keep it small as well. The smirk Sassy wore made you feel uneasy. As if you knew what her end goal was.

Across the altar, your eyes moved to where Ted stood, and to your surprise he was already staring at you. His cheeks flushed when you caught him, but his smile matched yours.

After the ceremony everyone headed to the reception. It was glamorous, perfect for Keeley. Once everyone gave their speeches you snuck away to the bar. The feeling of a warm hand against your back made you jump.

“Hi angel”, you knew that voice anywhere.

You spun around to see Ted there, hair neatly combed, mustache freshly trimmed. He must’ve noticed your admiration when his cheeks blushed once again.

“Hi, Ted. Dance floor get too busy for you?”, he chuckled at your response.

“Right on, LeBron. You know me, just busting out the dance moves.”, his statement made you both chuckle.

The bartender brought your drink as Ted moved closer to you to get out of the waiter’s way. He didn’t move from where he was pressed to half of your back, though. Instead, he brought a hand up to rest on your hip. As you sipped your drink, his thumb softly stroked where your dress showed your warm skin.

He leaned in to whisper in your ear, “So what’dya say we-“

“Ted!!”, Sassy’s voice was loud as she approached your other side. Ted’s hand didn’t move, if anything he actually held you tighter, which had you smirking into your drink.

“Well, Hi, Sassy.”

“I was wondering if you’d like a guest in your hotel room tonight? You know, like-“

Ted politely cut her off, “I’ll pass, Sassy. But I hope you have a fun night!”

“What?”, she sounded shocked at his opposition.

“No, thank you, Sassy.”, by now you’d ordered another drink as you sat in the middle of a now-awkward conversation.

“But I thought we had a thing going on? Is that not what we do?”, she sounded almost offended.

“We used to, but it’s not the same anymore-“ Ted’s hand lightly squeezed at your hip as he spoke. “I don’t think we need to continue all that, Sassy. But I wish you the best! There’s lots of guys here that would love to-“, although he stayed polite her expression was one of annoyance and possibly disbelief.

“You know what? That’s fine, Ted-“ she glanced at you as she cut him a clearly fake smile, “You two have a good night.”

You and Ted stayed silent as she walked away, and both let out a sigh of relief the second she was gone.

Ted let out a whistle, “Well that was-“

“Yeah”, you chuckled with him.

“Didn’t want a night with Sassy Smurf?”, you tried acting nonchalant but you were eager to hear what he had to say.

Ted glanced down to where his hand was still holding you before responding, “You know, uh- I don’t- I’m not really interested in that anymore.”

“No?”

“Somethin’ else I’d rather do with my night”, his smile was bright as you began to grin.

“Oh? And what’s that?”, you teased.

His eyes darted around the room before he leaned in, his breath hot on your ear, “Lemme show you, darlin’”.

You looked up to meet his mischievous eyes as you bit your lip in excitement.

No words were spoken as Ted led you out of the ballroom and through a hallway, into a small empty office. No words were needed, though. You’d follow Ted wherever.

Your eyes traveled over his figure and how well it filled out his suit while he shut the door, locked it, and pulled the blinds over the small window.

His hands were characteristically stuffed into his pockets as he looked at you with the same admiration.

“Y’look beautiful, y/n.”, you could tell he meant every bit of the word.

“Thank you. So do you.”

“Good for Roy and Keeley, huh?”

“Oh, yeah. It’s been a long time coming.”, you softly mused.

Ted only stared at you as you waited for him to respond.

“What was this for, Ted? Are you feeling okay?”

Ted let out a soft chuckle as he came closer to where you stood against the wall.

“Oh, me? I’m fine as frog’s hair, just needed a minute alone with you.”, his arms opened as he met your figure and you went into them without hesitation. They were strong and intentional in the way they held you to him. He pulled away slightly, but didn’t dare let go of you.

Before you could say another word, he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. Both of his hands gently cupped your cheeks and his thumbs softly stroked the skin there.

There was no rush as your lips softly met, parted, and met again. It was slow and deliberate. Every move was calculated. When you breathed in, you could smell so much of him, you thought you’d get a high from it. Your hands grasped the sides of his tuxedo, holding him close. One of your hands moved up to softly stroke the side of his face, and your insides burst into flames at the way it made him sigh into your kiss.

Ted slid a hand to your hip and used the leverage to inch you backwards against the wall. You slid your hands under the coat of his tuxedo rubbing softly at his back and holding him to you. Ted’s lips, more wet now, pressed against the corner of yours as he whispered, “S’this alright?”.

“Mhm”, you hummed in agreement as his lips traveled across your jaw. The hairs of his mustache tickled, but all you could focus on was the warm, wet kisses he began pressing to your skin. It was your turn to let out a sigh as he made his way down your neck and to your collarbones before pausing at your ear.

Sure, you’d kissed before. You’d even had a couple makeout sessions, but it never went this far. This was new, and it had the hot feeling of desire pooling deep inside you.

“Only want you, y’know that?”

If the new sensation of him kissing your neck weren’t enough, the admission of his feelings almost sent you into shock.

Your mouth fell open as he continued to nip and lick at your pulse point.

When you didn’t respond, he stopped and pulled away to meet your eyes.

“Y/n? You okay?”

“Y-yeah I just… Feels good, Teddy..”

You could see him grow more confident from your words. You could feel him grow more needy against your hipbone.

“Can I- should we keep going? We can always-“, you stopped his words by pulling him back in. This time when your lips met his, your tongue darted out to tease the sensitive skin of his lips. You could feel his breath hitch as his head tilted to the side in an effort to return the gesture. The way he held your face felt so protective, like he needed you to know he only wanted you.

You grew hot as you both moved faster, and Ted let out the first moan as you reached a hand around to his lower back and used to pull his hips closer to you. It was unmistakable, how turned on Ted was from the way his bulge was firm against your hip. You pulled his face down to where your lips could ghost across his jaw and over to his ear.

“Can I touch you, love?”

A breathy whimper left Ted’s mouth.

“O-of course, only if you want t- oh..”, his words trailed off into a low moan as you softly cupped his bulge through his dress pants. Ted groaned in your ear, only encouraging you even more. Your fingers lightly stroked his cock and he moved to put a hand against the wall before bringing you in for another deep kiss. His tongue immediately began to search for yours, as if it were some holy grail.

The kiss was sloppy. It was wet, messy, driven by built up tension. You traced the zipper of his pants and toyed with the button, silently asking for permission to continue.

“Y/n.. please, hun. Shit..“

The fabric holding the button to the pants seemed as if it were about to pop off as you undid it. Ted’s cock was hot and heavy tucked into his briefs, and for a split second he stopped kissing you to let his head fall onto your shoulder. His lips lazily skirted across your collarbone before biting hard, causing you to give his cock a squeeze. The moan he let out in response was filthy, needy, almost desperate.

“More, Ted?”

“Shit- yes, honey, yes.”

Ted’s eyelashes mimicked butterflies as they fluttered closed. His head fell backwards once you took him into your hand. There were a million ideas of what you could do with him going through your head, but you knew soon enough someone would come looking for you. You needed to know you’d have the chance for more.

“Ted, wait-“

He immediately stiffened and began moving away from you, “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

You softly chuckled at his concern, “No, no.. I just- I don’t want this to be it.. I just want to make sure we’re on the same page because if not then I think we should stop..”

“What page are you on?”

“I don’t want this to be a one time thing, but I don’t want you to think it’s without feelings either. I have feelings feelings for you.. and-“

Ted cut you off with a gentle kiss, “I hear ya, darlin’. I’m there too. Shoot, we can stop here if you want.”

You flashed him a wicked smile as you squeezed him once more and hummed at the soft groan he let out.

“Just wanted to make sure I’d have the chance to do this again, love.”

“You can do this all you- all you want, sweetheart.. mmm”

You’d pulled his cock out from where it was trapped beneath his boxers. Looking down between the two of you, your mouth was practically watering at the sight of it.

Thick, heavy, tall. A pink angry tip, neatly trimmed hair at the base. Practically begging for the slightest touch from you. It seemed so fitting for the man who was currently melting under your touch.

Leaning your head down, you let a drop of spit fall where your hand was stroking him. The sounds it made were crude, but only turned both of you on more. Ted shoved his face into your shoulder as his moans poured from his lips, but the more you touched him, the louder he grew.

“Ted,” You tilted his head up towards yours, “Gotta be quiet, baby. Don’t want anyone hearing you.. Just me.”

Ted let out a needy whimper against your lips, “Only you, only you- mm”

His words were muffled by your lips as you pulled him in for another kiss. Ted kissed you like it was his sole purpose in life. Hands holding you as close as he could, tongue swirling against yours, hips rocking softly into your hand. Your hand pumped his cock at a steady pace, you were desperate to watch him fall apart for you.

“Oh, m’close- fuck”, he groaned as your hand tightened around him before you pushed him away slightly.

Still stroking him, you sank to your knees.

“Baby you don’t have to..”

His words were breathy, and you could tell he was about to finish. Without a second thought, you placed your swollen lips on the top of his cock while your hand stroked the rest of him.

Almost immediately, hot spurts of his cum hit your tongue. You eased the rest of what you could fit into your mouth as Ted rode out his orgasm. Throaty groans left his mouth as his cock pushed deeper into your throat, and his hands had found a home on your head. You let out a moan of your own after swallowing his release, you’d spent many nights imagining having his cock in your mouth. The real experience was better than you imagined.

As Ted came down from his orgasm, you gently pulled your mouth off him. By the reaction he had from the handjob, you weren’t entirely sure he wouldn’t fall to the floor from a little overstimulation. Not that you wouldn’t want to go there later, but not at your best friend’s wedding.

The sound of the doorknob jiggling broke through the muffled conversations outside, and your heart almost fell out of your chest. You scrambled to stand up while Ted attempted to fix his pants.

“That’s not the bathroom!”, you heard from outside the door. Ted’s blown pupils met yours as you both sighed in relief.

No words were spoken as you both calmed your breathing. Ted’s hand slowly raised to move towards your face, “Oh, you’ve got a little uh..” his words trailed off as he swiped a stray drop of cum from your cheek.

You took his thumb in his mouth before he could do anything else with it, and the groan he let out had you wanting to pull him to the floor right now, wedding be damned.

“Darlin’..”, Ted exhaled.

“Hm?”

“Did you mean that?”

“Mean what?”, your eyebrows furrowed as his eyes looked around the room anxiously.

“The part about the uh- the feelings n’all that”, he sounded like he expected you to shoot him down. His shoulders visibly relaxed at the sound of your breathy chuckle.

“Of course, Ted. Meant every bit of it.”, he flashed you a nervous smile as you brought him in for a kiss.

This time when his lips met yours, he held you in a gentle embrace. When he pulled away his fingers smoothed your hair back into place as best as he could.

“M’glad. Been hoping you’d say that for a while.”

“It was hard finding the words, and then with all you’ve had going on.. I’d rather be here as your best friend who loves you than ruin our relationship because I went too far too fast. One question though..”, you spoke as you slowly moved towards the door. Ted followed you and nodded for you to continue.

“You meant it when you told Sassy no more?”, you cocked a flirty eyebrow at him, but he knew your words weren’t just flirty banter.

“Been meanin’ to do it sooner, actually.”

His words brought a hopeful grin to your face as you both snuck your way back into the wedding.

Thanks for reading! Please like & reblog!

#ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso x reader #ted lasso fic #ted lasso imagine #ted lasso fluff #ted lasso smut #ted deserves a handy #i don’t mind volunteering #my writing

[rowaelinsdaughter]

Omg ok so i just an ideas for a smutty ask for rowan

so he gives dom vibes to me so like imagine a pet play bunny/ kitten play with rowan and also idk why but i kinda get the vibes he’s a hard dom/ pleaure dom

and aftercare with rowan would just be the best like he would take such good care of you after your all stupid from him and

he would just make sure your like back from subspace before letting you sleep like i get the vibe he would have a sub& dom relationship

LITTLE BUNNY

a/n;; i got a little (too much) carried away with this, but holyyyyyy this was another smutty thing and i loved to write it

WARNINGS;; smutt without plot, sub / dom dynamics, pet play bunny, use of plugs,knife play, a little of blood, spanking, fluff at the end

rowan would definitely be into play bunny and he IS a hard dom but soft aftercare. 

he would ask her one day after a hot session. he was cleaning her in the shower, hot water relaxing her muscles. rowan was giving her a massage on her shoulders, a soft, lox moan leaving her lips unintentionally. he turned her around so she was facing her. “i’ve been thinking this for some time now” her hands were on his chest, slowly making their way to his silver hair. “what is it ro?” she asked softly. 

“would you like to dress like a bunny?” 

for some reason she knew he was going to ask her something like that, she didn’t know the reason or who told him about it but, she said yes. 

they didn’t try it immediately but a week later he came back home with a box. bunny ears and a soft bunny tail. one she needed to plug it on her butt, but she didn’t care. “i have an idea, ro” she said to him after opening the box. “why don't we wait to use this?” 

“but i dont want to wait, doll” “please ro” she pouted to him and she knew he couldn’t say no to her when she gave him the “bambi look”, and it worked. he said he would wait. a kiss to her forehead and he entered the bathroom.

rowan was sent to a mission for 5 days and she decided to finally use the bunny ears and tail. he was due to arrive home that night, so she spent the whole day preparing everything for his arrival. it was past midnight when she heard the door open and rowan calling her name. she laid down on the bed face down. she was wearing white lingerie, the bottom had a hole behind for her to plug the tail easily. high socks and a nearly transparent bra. the door opened and rowan stopped abruptly after seeing her on their bed. she knelt on the bed, her hands traveling her body as if showing him her body. as if he didn’t knew every part of her.

“you like it daddy?” she said innocently. rowan approached the bed like a hunter assessing his prey, and with the knives still on his belt and legs, he really looked like one.  the hunter and the prey. he grabbed her neck, squeezing a bit. she choked a moan due to his hand. “you ask me if i like it, doll? i fucking love it, and im going to enjoy it.” the hand on her neck traveled all the way down to her cunt, a wet stain on her panties. “you’re soaked, doll.”

“for you daddy. only for you” she gasped. rowan grabbed a knife from his belt and cut the bra from the middle, hanging from her shoulders like an open shirt, exposing her heavy breasts. he climbed to the bed, knees on either side of her also kneeling position, but he was taller than her, so she had to look up to his green eyes. he placed the tip of the knife on her chin, a drop of blood running down her throat, her chest, until it reached her panties, a red spot making contrast with the white. 

she whimpered like a little animal and rowan laughed. low and wicked. “you’re my little bunny, aren’t you?” she nodded “words bunny”, “yes daddy” he leaned down so his lips were nearly touching. “good bunny” and he finally kissed her. teeth crashing. tongue dancing. like a storm that was near. he turned her harshly, her back pressed on his chest. she didn’t know when he had took off his clothes, but they were gone, and she could feel every inch of her toned, perfect skin, full of scars she loved kissing or licking. 

he took her neck and pushed her down, lifting her ass up. with a hand on her neck, he smacked her butt with the other through the fabric. a soft red painted her rounded ass cheeks. “daddy, please,” she pleaded. “please, what? use your words bunny” she swallowed and looked at him. “please, fuck me daddy” rowan smirked. “of course bunny”

and he did fuck her. the sun was rising when they fell to the bed, satisfied and exhausted. rowan looked at her and a soft smile lit up his face as he watched his mate. she was falling asleep but she needed to change and clean. “hey, babe. c’mon don't fall asleep, we need to get clean” she moved further under the sheets. “dont want to” she murmured, but rowan didn’t listened to her and lifted her bridal style while she groaned. “you’re such a baby”, “shut up rowan.”

he cleaned her, leaving sweet kisses on her body while he did it. he dressed her with one of his t-shirts and while he was dressing she nearly fell from the counter but rowan caught her before she could hit the floor. he tucked her under the sheets and laid beside her. by the time he left a kiss on her lips she was asleep.

all rights reserved to ©rowaelinsdaughter. no tranlations allowed. no copy theme. don not copy my work.

#sarah j maas #sjm books #fanfic #throne of glass #throne of glass imagine #throne of glass fanfiction #rowan whitethorn #rowan fic #rowan x reader #rowan fanfic #rowan x you #tog x reader #tog fic #tog #tog smut

[madomens]

Face It (18+)

Chapter 5

warnings: smuttttt, alcohol consumption

word count: 1.7k

THIS IS MY FIRST TIME EVER WRITING SMUT BY MYSELF BE KIND 🤪🤪 love yall

A week later

“Noah! Jesus christ why do you always do that?” I shriek as soon as my door flies open, Noah's tall frame stepping in.

I knew they were getting home from tour today but Noah didn’t exactly tell me what time he would be coming over. As per usual, he just walks through the door like he owns the place, although I guess I did tell him where the spare key is hidden for a reason.

“Hi,” he smiles and before I even get the chance to tell him hello, he crashes his lips to mine like we’ve been apart for years causing a surprised gasp to fall from my lips. His tattooed hands grip my hips and push me against the door gently, causing a low moan to escape. I can feel Noah smirk into my mouth as I part my lips and he immediately forces his tongue in.

He picks me up so I can wrap my legs around him, all without breaking our heated makeout session. The feeling of his rough hands on the backs of my exposed thighs has my heart racing and all I care about is getting him to my bed.

“Noah,” I pant, leaning my forehead against his. The smell of his cologne mixed with sweat fills my nostrils and we finally make eye contact, his eyes almost completely black with lust. “I missed you.”

He carries me over to the couch and sits back, letting my legs fall on either side of his. “I missed you more,” he grumbles, lips attacking my neck. I instinctively grind down on his lap which elicits a groan from him as he bites down on my neck. He flips us so he’s laying on top of me and tugs at the hem of my shorts.

“Why are these still on?” he asks, grabbing and pulling them down my legs. He gives me another hard kiss on my lips before pulling my shirt over my head, exposing my already hardened nipples. He takes one in his mouth and palms the other. The moan that escapes my lips is ungodly having gone so long without Noah's touch.

He starts leaving kisses down my body until he finally gets to the spot I need him most. “So wet for me. What do you want?” he asks, rubbing my clit through my soaked panties and looking up at me.

My breath hitches in my throat and I can cum just from the sight of him alone but when he talks to me in a low, raspy voice, it almost sends me over the edge.

“Hm?” He stops his movements and plays with the band of my panties, waiting for me to respond.

“I need your tongue Noah, please,” I whine impatiently causing him to smirk and take my panties off, finally giving my aching cunt the attention I’ve been craving for so long. “Good girl,” he wastes no time licking a strip up my folds.

My head falls back into the cushions of the soft couch and a loud moan leaves my lips yet again. “I missed the way you taste.” He wraps his lips around my clit and sucks lightly, making my hands go straight to his already messy hair. He lets out a soft moan at the feeling of me tugging at his hair encouraging him to keep up his actions. “Fuck, Noah.” I moan as he continues sucking and licking at my clit.

He adds one of his long fingers and curls it, immediately finding my g-spot. “I’m so close,” I moan pulling his hair a little harder and bucking into his mouth. After another few pumps of his finger along with his tongue, I had one of the best orgasms I think I’ve ever had.

Noah removes his finger, looking me in the eyes as he brings it to his mouth and sucks my arousal off. He stands up and takes his shorts and underwear off, his hard cock hitting his stomach. No matter how many times Noah and I hook up, my mouth waters thinking about him being inside me every single time.

He sits back down on the couch and pulls me on top of him, kissing me hard. I can taste myself on his lips and tongue as he teases my entrance with his tip. I break the kiss only long enough to take his shirt off, leaving both of us completely naked. I grind down on him again and his muscles tense as he digs his fingers into my ass, definitely leaving bruises. He finally pushes inside of me, sitting for a second so I can get used to his size.

“Fuck I’ve missed this,” he says and I can only moan in response, finally starting to move. After a few minutes of me riding him, he takes hold of my hips and thrusts up into me hitting that spot every single time. The only sounds in the room are moans and skin slapping together, and in this moment, it’s my favorite noise. “You’re so tight,” he moves a finger between us to rub my clit and I throw my head back in pure bliss, feeling another orgasm building quickly.

In one swift movement, Noah picks me up again with his cock still inside me, and flips us so that I’m laying down on the couch with him on top of me. He picks up his pace, still rubbing my clit quickly. “Don’t stop,” I moan loudly and move my hips with the rhythm of his until a second orgasm crashes through me, just as intense as the first.

He fucks me through my second orgasm of the day and I pull him in for a kiss. His movements get sloppy and I can tell he’s close as he squeezes his eyes shut. “Cum for me baby,” I moan into his mouth and with that, his muscles tense and a groan leaves his lips as he spills inside of me. He pulls out of me slowly and sits on the couch, putting my legs over his as we both catch our breath.

“Hello to you too,” I smile up at him. His brown hair is ruffled and the sweat on his skin gives him an ethereal glow. His once hard facial features have softened as he stares at me with a slight grin on his face. “I don’t think you understand how long I’ve waited for this.”

“Believe me, I understand,” he replies, moving my legs to grab my clothes that are strewn about the living room. I give him a small thanks as I move to put my shorts and shirt back on, him following suit. “I know things got bad for a minute but you never left my mind for even a second, Noel. Nicholas could see through me every time I tried to deny it.”

I move so that my legs are crossed and look at him as I try to find my words once again. My mind is already constantly going a million miles a minute but him bringing up the one thing I’m not prepared to talk about throws me off a little more. His smile slowly starts to fade as he awaits my response.

“I’m sorry I just wasn’t expecting this conversation right now. I uh- I can honestly say the same thing about KB. She constantly tried to convince me to call you but I just couldn’t do it,” I look down at the couch as I start picking at the loose threads. He grabs my chin gently and forces me to look at him.

“I know you better than you think I do babe,” my heart flutters at the pet name he usually only uses ironically. “Remind me to hug Nicholas when he gets here.” My eyebrows scrunch together as I try to remember if he told me the guys are coming over.

“I didn’t know they were coming today,” I say in almost a question. I do have a tendency to forget almost everything. Noah lets out a low laugh and pulls me into him so my face is buried in his neck. “We talked about it the night I called you after work, remember?”

I hum into his neck and take in his scent again, his cologne has slightly faded and as much as I love the smell of Dior Sauvage, nothing compares to his natural scent. “You smell so good,” I change the subject of my obvious forgetfulness and give him a small love bite below his jaw, smiling as I feel him tense up.

“If the guys weren’t coming today, I’d have to remind you what happens when you do that,” he groans. I move back so I’m looking at him again, admiring every freckle, every imperfection that makes him perfect to me. He shifts slightly, trying to fix the obvious bulge in his shorts, earning a giggle from me. “As much as I could sit here and stare at you for hours, I should probably clean up in here a little,” I sigh, standing up and walking to the kitchen to fix myself and Noah a drink. “You still a wine guy or has traveling changed you?” I tease.

“Ha ha. I’ll never not want wine no matter where I travel,” He walks over to me and pulls two wine glasses out of my cabinet as I grab my usual bottle of cabernet. I hand him the bottle as I start putting dishes from the dishwasher into the cabinets and reloading it. “You need some help with anything?” Noah questions, taking a sip and passing me an overfilled glass of wine. “No it’s alright I’m just putting a few things up. Good to see you still don’t understand portion control when it comes to wine,” I motion towards the glass. He laughs and takes another drink of his, setting it down and pulling his phone out of his pocket and aiming the camera toward me. “What are you doing?” I ask, trying to cover my face. I am definitely not camera ready with my sex hair and wrinkled clothes. Definitely hopping in the shower after I clean this place up. “Taking a picture of my beautiful girlfriend,” he responds nonchalantly. Girlfriend? Judging by his facial expression, he got the reaction he wanted as he snaps a photo.

“Oh yeah? Girlfriend?” The smile on my face grows as he closes the distance between us and gives me a long but gentle kiss on my lips. “Girlfriend.” This mother fucker is going to ruin me I just know it.

TAGLIST: @jilliemiw86 @whenthesummerdies @ebechnasheim @blackveilomens @melcchs @cookiesupplier

if u wanna be tagged comment 😋

#bad omens #bad omens cult #noah sebastian #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian smut

[thehomeofplatonicfics]

Hiya! I am soooo happy you opened your request box cause I've been loving all your fics so far <3 Can I request a hogwarts legacy mc reader fic talking to a portrait of professor fig after the events of the game? I always think they game never acknowledged how upset mc would really be losing fig, like their expression in the funeral was so blank it was painful!!

A/N: Oh my gosh, anon! Thank you so much for being the first person to send me a request! I 100% agree with you, like I was sobbing during that scene and MC just scrunches their nose?! I honestly think this is my best fic, so please if you like it do tell me! <3

I Miss You

MC!Reader x Professor Fig (platonic!)

It had only been two months since you became the hero of Hogwarts. Only two months since the only father figure you’d ever had died. The professors had quickly commissioned his portrait, and for over a week now he had hung proudly inside the office of his Magical Theory classroom. You had yet to visit the portrait of Professor Fig. The upcoming OWLs, only days away, were your main excuse. That you simply didn’t have time. In truth, you were scared to confront your loss head on… no one could make you admit how much Eleazar Fig’s passing had affected you.

As you left an early morning study session, you mused about how difficult it would be for Professor Fig’s successor. They would surely know that they had big shoes to fill. You imperceptibly shook your head to yourself, whoever they were… you almost felt sorry for them.

Heading down the corridor towards the Great Hall for a well-deserved breakfast, you walked past the classroom you’d come to know so well. Suddenly, you felt rooted to the spot. It was like you were hit with your grief all at once. You realised what you were truly afraid of… the future, one you had to face without your mentor.

You needed to see the office. You needed Professor Fig. Gliding towards the classroom, eyes searching the corridor for anyone watching you, you slipped through the classroom door. Passing through the empty classroom, you cautiously opened the office door that you once used to bolt through. The confidence was gone, maybe forever.

It was difficult to miss the large painting hanging behind the professor’s desk, and your eyes instantly locked with his familiar brown ones. He gave a smile of relief, and you felt your breath hitch in your throat. “Ah, Y/N. I wondered when I’d be seeing you. What brings you here?” You felt yourself welling up, and you balled your hands into fists to try and maintain some composure. His voice was like a drop of rain in the midst of the hottest desert.

“I just… I just need some advice.” The words tumbled out of you before you could think about it as you slowly stepped closer and closer to the painting. “The Hero of Hogwarts needing my humble advice? Sounds serious.” He spoke with a bemused tone. You jumped up to sit on top of his desk, hunching over to make yourself as small as possible, hands clasped tightly. Anything to stop yourself from breaking down. “You are… were a hero too.” You muttered under your breath.

“What troubles you, my young friend?” He looked at you with furrowed brows and a concerned gaze. He had never seen you so downtrodden before.

“Well, I don’t know… I guess just - everyone else has had five years to prepare for the exams. And I, well, I’ve only had one.” You rolled your eyes at yourself, almost feeling silly for complaining about it. “And you’ve done exceptionally well, you’ve surpassed any expectations that anyone had of you. Including me, and my expectations of you were already very high.”

“What if I’ve not done enough?” You questioned, deliberately looking anywhere except at Fig’s painting. “What if I don’t get the grades I need?” The painting shook his head with a lopsided smile. After all you’d accomplished, you still couldn’t see your true worth. “I know you shall. I’ve seen you work, I’ve seen your abilities. There is no doubt in my mind you’ll get at least Exceeds Expectations in every class.” You shook your head slowly, wanting to believe it but feeling like something was blocking you. A few moments of silence passed, the professor patiently waiting for you to continue, knowing instinctively that something more was bothering you.

“What will my future be? What do I want to be?” You looked up, staring directly into his painted eyes, desperately trying to remember his real ones. How warm they had been, how you could see decades of wisdom and experience behind them. “I’ve known so little about this world, and now I have to decide my whole future in it.” Your voice cracked as you struggled to keep your emotions bottled in. Professor Fig nodded his head sagely, and you knew he understood what you needed in that moment.

“You’d like my help to decide?” It was more of a statement than a question. “Help me prioritise which subjects to focus on.” A hand ran through your hair, then over your face. “I’ll need the best grades in subjects I carry to NEWTs… and those exams determine my career, right?” The painting hesitated, clasping his hands in front of him before humming in agreement.

Silence again. This time it was charged, heavy with words unsaid. You wanted to break the silence but didn’t know what to say. Technically, the Professor Fig in front of you wasn’t really him and as you chewed on your lip staring at floor below the painting, you were painfully aware of it.

“I think you should consider taking Magical Theory as a NEWT.” Your head whipped up to meet Fig’s gaze, eyebrows raised. “No… No, I couldn’t.” He frowned, his head tilting slightly. “Why not? We spent the whole year researching your own magic, I think you could teach the class yourself now.” He chuckled to himself, but the eyes that once sparkled when he laughed remained the same dull brown. Another reminder that things would never be the same. “Because… it wouldn’t be you teaching me. I don’t think I could stand it. Someone else standing where you should be.”

You stared at each other for a few moments before you broke the eye contact, lowering your eyes into your lap, your hands almost bleeding from how deep you were digging your nails into your skin.

“Y/N, I may never have taught you officially in my class, but you’ll always be my proudest achievement. I hope you know that.” He always knew exactly what to say, even when you didn’t know what you needed to hear. The tears slipped down your cheeks before you could stop them, and soon the floodgates opened and all the bottled emotions came seeping out at once.

“I miss you so much. I don’t know how I’ll do this without you.” Loud sobs echoed across the office, and a hand lay on your chest as you tried to fight the intensity of what you were feeling. “You taught me everything, I wouldn’t even be here without you. And now I have to continue on without my… father.”

The painting of the Professor looked shocked for a moment before he melted into a warm smile. If he could have hugged you, he would have. “I’ll always be here, Y/N. I know it isn’t quite the same. But the advantage of being a painting is that you’ll always know where to find me. I won’t be off on a week-long research project… or sent off on one of the headmaster’s silly errands.”

A quiet giggle escaped you, soon developing into a real laugh. It was brief, but it was time you’d laughed since he died. Professor Fig smiled down at you, pleased to see a glimpse of your old self again. You wiped away your tears, summoning a parchment and quill. “Okay. Let’s get down to business, shall we?” You announced with a true smile, one that the painting returned with a fond nod. It wasn't quite the same, but the painting would help you through your grief. You'd always have a piece of your mentor in your heart.

#hogwarts legacy reader insert #professor fig x reader #hogwarts legacy x reader #hogwarts legacy imagine #platonic reader insert #professor fig imagine #eleazar fig x reader

[pensat-i-fet]

My protector (Rúben Dias x Reader)

Word count: 2755

**Little fluff imagine we brainstormed one day. Enjoy it ❤️**

Masterlist

Wattpad

"And basically, I have to continue with the exercises for a couple of weeks and the foot will be healed", I tell my boyfriend who called me right after I left the doctor's office for my daily rehab session after my injury.

"Almost there, then. I swear your injury has felt eternal. Even worse than one of mine", he laughs.

"That's your overprotective nature. And…what's going on?"

"What happened?"

When I make my way into the building where I live, I see builders working there. They weren't here when I left and no one informed us of any future work that needed to be done.

"Eh…there are builders in the building. I'll see why they are here and call you later, ok?"

"Sure. Let me know if you need anything before my match".

"I will".

My worst fear seems to come true when I notice the builders are working on the lift.

"Excuse me? Is there something wrong with the lift?"

"Yes, ma'am. We were called because someone got stuck in it and found there were quite a few things that weren't working well. So we need to repair it urgently. If someone uses it, there could be an accident".

"Well, it's good you saw the problem before that happened. How long will it take you to fix it?"

"Around two weeks?", he says.

"Oh…that's a lot", I say, realising then these men are just doing their best and don't need my negativity. "Thanks for fixing it. I…I'll get the stairs, I guess".

"Sorry about that".

By the time I get to my floor, which is the 9th floor, I'm almost in tears. My foot hurts so much.

I lay down on the sofa, trying to will the pain to go away. But two weeks of this? All the work done to heal my injury will be gone. I'll probably injure the foot more.

My phone starts ringing and I see it's Rúben.

"Hey", I say, trying not to sound like someone who is about to cry.

"Hi! What were the builders doing then?"

"They…", but I can't continue without little sobs coming out of me.

"What's wrong?", I can hear the concern in Rúben's voice. "Did any of them do anything to you?"

"No. They were really polite but…I'm not going to be able to use the lift for two whole weeks, Rúben. My foot hurts so much from walking up the stairs".

Now I'm full-on crying.

"Don't cry, please. Not while I'm not there to comfort you. There is a very easy solution to that".

"Which is?"

"Move in with me while the builders are there".

"You sure?"

"More than sure", he laughs. "Get everything ready. I'll pick you up after training".

                                     **

A couple of hours later I’m feeling a lot better. The foot doesn’t hurt anymore and I’ve been able to walk around the apartment to collect my things. When my doorbell rings, I know it’s Rúben so I slowly make my way to the door.

“Hi”, I say, hugging him before he can even walk inside the house.

“Feeling better?”, he asks, kissing the top of my head.

“Yes. I’m not in pain anymore and knowing I won’t have to go up and down the stairs for the next few weeks cheered me up”.

“And you get to spend a lot more time with me”, he says, kissing my nose.

“Yeah, that’s the bad part but you have a few away matches. I’ll be able to rest then”.

“Hilarious”.

I move away from him, still laughing, and grab my bag.

“It’s all ready. Do you want to have something to drink before we go?”

“No, I’m good. Give me the bag”.

“Rúben”, we always have the same arguments, he won’t let me carry anything bigger than my handbag. “It’s not that heavy. I can carry it”.

“It’d be uncomfortable while we go down the stairs”.

“How?”

“Because I’ll carry you. It’s easier if it’s on my back and not yours”.

“You’re not carrying me down the stairs”.

“Of course I am, you’re injured”, he says, looking at me as if that was the only reasonable way to do things.

“But I can walk down the stairs. It’s fine”.

He walks towards me and grabs my face gently. 

“You were crying before because of how much your foot hurt. I’m not going to let you do something that’ll make you cry because of the pain when there is an easy way to avoid it”.

“But, what if you injure yourself?”, I say, trying to find an excuse.

“Come on, I lift weights that are heavier than you. I’ll be fine”.

“No you don’t…”, but then I see the look he’s giving me. “Well, you’re a freak”.

He shakes his head, laughing. And when we get to the door, he lifts me in his arms as if I weighed nothing and we go down the stairs.

                                      **

On our way to the doorway, we found several of my neighbours going up and down the stairs. Obviously, the lift doesn’t work for any of them either.

“This is so embarrassing”, I tell Rúben after one of the ladies from the 3rd floor spends almost five minutes telling him what a gentleman he is and touching his arms. 

“Not for me”.

After what feels like an eternity, we get to the doorway level and he puts me down. 

“Thank you”.

“Any time. You’re much nicer to hold than the weights”, he jokes, kissing my forehead.

“You know, I read once about forehead kisses and what they meant”.

“Yeah?”, he asks, his tone curious. “What do they mean? I do it without even noticing”.

“There are different theories but my favourite one is that we give those kisses to those we want to protect. Sounds a lot like you”.

“It does. And I do want to protect you. I hate knowing that I can’t always do it”.

“Well, you’re doing a great job anyways”.

We go to the car and then I get an idea.

"I'm going to Google forehead kisses to see which meaning you like best".

"I already liked the protection one but go ahead".

I search through different articles until I find one I like.

"Look", I start, "this says that kissing on the forehead denotes affection, adoration, and care for the person".

"Do you want me to tell you that I adore you?", he laughs. "A bit too corny".

"I think it's cute".

"Well", says Rúben, turning to grab my hand and kissing it since we are at a red light, "I do adore you". 

"Now you are going to make me look up hand kisses".

He just keeps on laughing and starts driving again.

"Oh my God! I love this part".

"Read it".

"When a man feels protective about the person he is in love with, he tries to express it in several ways. One of the ways is to place a kiss on their forehead. So, if you see that your partner is placing his arms around you to give you a hug followed by a forehead kiss, know that he wants to protect you from the worries of the world. He wants you to feel safe and secure in his arms and enjoy being there, keeping worries at bay".

"Wow".

"That's literally you", I say. "My protector".

Now I'm the one looking at him like I adore him.

                                     **

Living with Rúben is…interesting. All the times I’ve stayed at his place, he was focused on being present for me, so he made small changes to his routine. Now I get to see it all…and I’ve never felt so lazy in my life.

“Do you really need to go to a yoga class now?”, I ask when we finish dinner.

“I don’t have to but it’s nice. Stretching is important. Do you want to come?”

“I can’t really do yoga right now”.

“You don’t have to do anything. Just keep me company”, he says, leaning down to hug my shoulders and to put his head on one of them. “Pleaaaaase”.

“Aren’t you tired of me?”, I laugh.

“Never!”

So we go to the class. His teacher welcomes me with a big hug and makes a big fuss about me coming back once I'm fit.

"He won't shut up about you", she says, "it's so nice to find out you actually exist".

I laugh at her words. "I do exist, yeah. But only believe the good things he says".

"As if he would say something bad about you", she shakes her head. "You sure you can't do any of the moves?"

"No, it's ok. I'm really tired from the rehab session I had this morning anyways".

"You can change your mind later if you want".

But I don't. I just sit down and enjoy the view. And take some photos too. Who can blame me?

                                      **

Back home, I need to do a couple more exercises for my foot before bed and Rúben decides to join me.

“Actually, I did that one when I injured my foot years ago”, he says, while trying to replicate my moves.

“I love seeing we have so much in common”, I joke. “Ok, one more and then I can reward myself with some tea and biscuits”.

“What do you say about having your tea and biscuits while you’re taking a relaxing bath”.

“I say I love the way you think”.

“I’ll start running it while you get the food and drink ready”.

I stare at Rúben’s figure while he walks to the bathroom. Saying he’s been spoiling me would be an understatement. I almost feel a bit guilty that he’s always doing so much for me. 

“You ready?”, he asks when I get to the bath, holding my mug and my little bowl full of chocolate digestives.

“Yes, that smells so good”.

“I saw this bath thing the other day and thought of you. I know you love everything that smells like peaches”.

I put my arms around his neck so I can stand on my tiptoes, with one foot only, and kiss him. 

“I don’t think queens are treated as well as you treat me”, I tell him.

“Well, we don’t have queens in Portugal but I can give you the honorary title if you want to”.

“Queen of the Dias kingdom?”

“You might have to fight my mum for that title but you are already on princess level”.

When I get in the bath, I close my eyes and just enjoy the warm water and the perfect smell. I almost even forget the food I brought with me.

                                      **

Once I’m out of the bath, I start doing my night routine. 

“Can I come in?”, asks Rúben after knocking on the door.

“Sure”.

“I heard you moving and guessed you were out of the bath. Was it good?”

“Perfect”, I tell him with a smile. “I’d give you a thank you kiss but I have a mask on”.

“And you’ve never looked better”, he laughs, seeing the bright pink colour of the mask I applied.

“You should try it. It might remove the ugly from your face”.

He ignores me and walks towards the sink until he’s behind me and can hug me and start peppering kisses on the back of my neck.

“You seem to be content with my ugliness so I’ll stay the same”.

When I wash my face to remove the mask, I get one of my face rollers to massage my face.

“What’s that?”, asks Rúben.

“A roller. For the face”.

“What does it do?”

“You know? I’m not sure, but it feels nice”.

When I’m done with it, I put it back on the shelf but Rúben takes it and looks at it.

“So you use it like this?”, he asks, trying to imitate what I was doing.

“No”, I say, holding his hand so I can move the roller in the right way. “Like that”.

“Am I pretty now?”

“Never been prettier”, I say, giving him a quick kiss.

After applying some moisturizer, I go to the bed and start braiding my long hair like I do every night.

“Can I have a go at that?”

“At what?”

“Your braid”, he says, pointing at the almost-done braid I’m holding. “You always do it before bed and I was wondering if I could try doing it too. It looks relaxing”.

“Sure…do you want to try now?”

“Can I?”, he says, looking so excited about something so simple, so I nod and I undo all the hair I had managed to braid.

“We have to brush it first”, I say, giving him my brush.

“I know. Ok…from the ends to the roots”.

“You really have been paying attention, huh?”

“Isn’t that something good for a boyfriend?”

“Oh yeah. I’m not complaining”.

He keeps muttering things, both in English and Portuguese, while doing the braid until he’s done.

“Can I see it?”

“Wait”, he says, getting up to get a mirror so I can see his masterpiece.

“That’s actually really good. Have you been practising?”

“Who would I practice with?”, he laughs.

“I don’t know. Haaland?”

I can’t stop staring at my hair. It’s so cute that he even wanted to give it a try. 

“I’ll teach you more hairstyles for when I can’t be bothered doing my hair. You can be my personal hairdresser”.

“Fine. But I’m not curling your hair. You always complain about burning your fingers and you’ve been doing that for years. I’ll probably end up in the emergency room”.

“So dramatic”, I laugh.

After half an hour of reading, I finally feel sleepy enough so I put my Kindle away. When I turn to look at Rúben, I see he’s still on his phone.

“I’m going to sleep now”, I say.

“Ok”.

He puts his phone away and turns the lights off.

“You don’t have to sleep when I do, Rúben”, I tell him again. “I know it’s a bit early for you”.

“Worth it for the cuddles”.

And it is. The cuddles and the forehead kisses. I’ve always struggled with falling asleep, but when I have Rúben's strong arms around me, it only takes me a couple of minutes to fall asleep. The article couldn't be more right about how safe I feel when he silently shows me how much he'll protect me. 

                                    **

“I need to leave now”, says Rúben from the front door and I walk as fast as I can to go say goodbye to him.

“I’m coming!”

“Don’t walk too fast”.

“It’s fine. You know I’m almost done with rehab. It feels so good to not be in pain”, I laugh, finally reaching him. 

“I’ll miss you”, he says, hugging me tightly.

“You’ll be back tomorrow night. And I’ll stay up just for you”.

“I want to tell you not to, but I also really want to see you when I come back”, he says, frowning.

“It’s fine. I want to see you too, so we are both being selfish”.

We kiss again, making the most out of every second he can stay home before leaving.

“Now I really need to go”.

“Ok, I’ll start packing while you are away, by the way”.

“Why?”, he asks, turning to look at me.

“The lift is fixed. I can go back home”.

“But your rehab isn’t finished”, he complains.

“Yeah, but it’s only 4 more days so it’s fine”.

“But…”.

“Rúben, my love, you need to go”, I tell him after looking at my watch. 

“And you don’t”, he says, confusing me.

“I know. I don’t think Pep can find a place for me in the line-up”.

“No, I mean you don’t need to go. I don’t want you to go”.

Is he insinuating what I think he’s insinuating?

“These last two weeks have been perfect for me. Have they not been good for you?”

“Of course they have, Rúben but…”.

“But would you want to stay here for, you know, longer?”

I can’t help but smile at how much he’s struggling to ask a simple question. “How much longer?”

“I don’t know, forever?”

“It’s almost as if you were asking me to move in with you or something, you know?”, I tease him.

“I am. Would you? Would you move in with me?”

“I’d love to”.

He drops his bag to lift me and kiss me.

“We’ll talk about this more when I come back”.

“Don’t worry, we have all the time in the world. Now go and win that match or I’ll change my mind”.

#ruben dias #ruben dias imagine #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias fluff #ruben dias one shot #ruben dias fanfic #ruben dias fanfiction #footballer imagine #footballer x reader #footballer fluff #footballer fanfiction #foootballer fanfic #ruben dias x y/n #footballer x y/n #footballer one shot

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓅨 Your Fate is Sealed With Mine: Chapter One

Your Fate is Sealed With Mine: Y/N Burgess is the granddaughter of Alex and Paul, and after having spent so many summers at their manor and always wondering why she was forbidden from entering the basement, she descends the steps into the world of the Order. She broke out the being that had been trapped in that glass cage, but what does he want with her now that he is free?

Warnings: Language, Mind Fuckery (Possessive Boi Morpheus), Mental Health Discussion, Medication Discussion.

To Note: Morpheus/Dream x Female!GranddaughterReader, based on Netflix’s ‘The Sandman’.

Word Count: ~2.4k

Masterlist | Next

You remember the summers you spent at your grandfathers’ manor quite well. The large stone building and sprawling grounds were massive, with plenty of space for you to roam, and roam you had. As a child, your imagination ran rampant and your dreams even more so. You had so much freedom your parents would have been mortified, well, you could go where you pleased save for one location: the basement. Naturally, you were curious about what was down there. But grandpapa Alex told you that a monster was locked away and he didn’t want you to get hurt going down there. 

It made sense with all of the guards coming and going in shifts, so you had left it alone and never spoke of it again. But then the dreams started coming, they were of a place that seemed to be rotting away to black and gray. Splendor to ruin. A kingdom crumbling without its ruler. Those dreams had made you afraid as a child. In fact, it had gotten so bad that your parents had to come and retrieve you because you were so terrified of sleeping for fear of dreaming about that decaying and dismal place. You had stopped visiting the manor at ten, terrified of what was in that basement and what came to your dreams at night. It had taken hundreds of sessions with a therapist and medication to rid your child mind of those dreams.  

Now an adult, you were less inclined to take the medication. You were an adult and you knew that dreams were exactly that, dreams. Why did you need to fear them when upon waking up they would no longer be real? So you stopped taking them and moved on from that chapter of your life. If only things were that simple. 

“Come on, Y/N, it’s Friday, we’re at the club, we look hot, relax a little will you?” Jemima protested from where she sat across from you, drink in hand. The Friday after work you had been dragged out by Jemima, your childhood best friend, and coworker, to the club to let loose from a stressful work week. “You aren’t still thinking about your ex, are you?” 

“Mmh?” You sounded, your eyebrow lifting as you rested your chin in your palm. “Oh, no, totally over that twat. I’m glad he’s gone if I’ll be honest. He was a lazy sod I was glad to kick to the corner. Kind of embarrassed that I dated him in the first place actually.”

“Then what’s on your mind babe? You’ve been spacing out a lot lately.” Jemima returned, setting down her drink. “You aren’t acting like yourself.”

“Nothing, really, I’ve just been thinking a lot about my childhood lately… don’t exactly know why.” You said with a shrug. “I keep feeling like I should visit my grandfathers', I haven’t been since I was ten.”

“So… why don’t you?” You hadn’t thought about that. Deep down inside you was that yearning to visit, a strong urge to go into that basement and find out what had terrified you so much as a child. But your conditioning was so strong you had been unconsciously resisting the idea even as an adult. 

“Honestly I have no idea, my parents told me that I was to never go back, nightmares and all. I’ve kind of just accepted that I should just stay away. Plus, you know I’m busy with work.” 

“But you loved Fawny Rig! You raved about it when we were children. Are you really going to let your parents tell you what to do now that you’re an adult? Babe, you're a grown-ass woman. Live a little, I’m sure Paul and Alex would love to see you.” You tilted your head to the side, honestly thinking about her words. Yes, you were an adult, and no, your parents couldn’t control what you did anymore. Besides, what they didn’t know, wouldn’t hurt them.

“Alright, I’ll pen it in when I get to work on Monday.” You told her, your mindset and that gut feeling, finally appeased. Jemima beamed at you and picked her glass up. 

“Excellent, now that we’ve gotten that business out of the way, can we finally let loose and have a little fun, you look like you need a proper fuck.” You snorted and rolled your eyes. 

“I didn’t come here to have a one-night stand, Jem,” She shrugged at you before pointing to the bar. It was only half filled with men and women, but in half an hour it would be packed with patrons wanting their beer and chips.

“No, but you did come to have fun, at the very least go kiss someone. You need a good snog, Y/N.” You had to resist rolling your eyes a second as you slipped from where you sat and headed for the bar. It was time to get a drink in hand, preferably your favorite, and forget about all your troubles and stress. 

Alcohol ran through your veins like blood as you laughed at what Sam, the man who had managed to charm you enough to hold your attention, had said.

“So I told him if he didn’t want to botch up the job he should have just told me. Pretty sure the lad isn’t just a prick, but a fucking cactus.” Your laugh dissolved into giggles while you gripped your stomach. 

“My God, how in the bloody hell have you put up with him this long? He sounds worse than my ex and he was a piece of work.” Sam’s eyebrow went up and curiosity filled his soft brown eyes. 

“Oh?” You took another sip of your current drink and shook your head at the ridiculous your relationship had been. 

“Believe me, I’m wondering why I stayed with him for so long, he’s the type where if you listen to him long enough, you start to wonder who ties his shoelaces for him. Absolutely useless. Wanker can’t even boil water for tea.“

“That's why you’re here tonight drowning your drinks like they’re water?” 

“I’m not the type to cry over a twat like him, my mother taught me better than that.” You responded before lazily shifting your gaze to where Jem was dancing with her chosen man of the night. “Jem, my best friend who came with me tonight, brought me to unload after a stressful week at work.” 

You both looked at her for a few moments. She was obviously enjoying her time and not worried or stressed at all. Envy nipped at your heart, you wished you could be as carefree as Jemima was. She hardly seemed to have any troubles in life, and if she did she just breezed past them like they never happened. 

“I’m a little envious of how she can just let all of her stress go.” You sighed. “My life would be so much easier if I could do that.” 

“You make it sound like you are a bore, Y/N.” 

“Am I not?” You returned with a raised eyebrow. Sam tilted his head to the side and studied you, his eyes not really revealing what he was thinking. 

“No, I don’t think so. Care for a dance love? You look like you could use more stress relieving.” Releasing your drink, you grabbed the front of his shirt and slipped from the bar stool you had occupied for the last hour. 

“Come on, Brown Eyes, let the de-stressing commence.” Sam laughed as you dragged him to the dance floor and twirled in a circle. He took your hand and pulled your body against his as your body swayed to the beat of the latest song. You weren’t familiar with the song but the beat was nice and easy to dance to, so you let yourself get lost in the music and the light scent of Sam’s cologne. 

The alcohol you had drunk surely helped with the nagging feeling deep in your gut and Sam provided a wonderful distraction you were all happy to indulge in. As the songs progressed your hands migrated upwards to wrap around his neck and you leaned your head against his chest. Song after song, the lights in the club twisted together in a kaleidoscope of colors. Sam was a temptation and you wanted to kiss that temptation until it was all you could think about. Sam finally dipped and you stretched. 

Your lips connected and alcohol mixed with beer. Odd combination but you didn’t care, Sam’s lips were pleasant and delicate against yours. It was a feeling and experience you missed, but it didn’t entirely sate that need for comfort and intimacy. Beggars couldn’t be choosers and you were content to take what you could from what Sam was offering. So you did.

You sunk your fingers into his hair, wrapping them around his strands and tugging on them while his lips worked themselves across your own and drew out little delights. Sam’s hand slipped across your lower back and pulled you closer to him. He tugged at your lower lip and parted your slightly tingling lips, you let him sweep into your mouth with the same delicate precision he had when simply kissing you. 

Your body trembled in delight, glad to have some form of genuine affection that didn’t come from a place of deception and disinterest. Sam then brushed a hand up your side, staying respectable as he reached your cheek and stroked your jaw with his thumb. You couldn’t help but let out a soft sigh against his lips, pulling back slightly to look into his eyes. 

“I don’t normally kiss strangers I meet at the club, Sam.” You told him, your eyes twinkling with mischief and your lips begging to return to his. Deviousness sparkled in his brown ones as his lovely lips curved into a partial smile. 

“Didn’t stop you from kissing back.” He returned with hesitation, still holding you against his chest delicately. You dropped your eyes down to the hand you had resting over his heart and drummed your fingertips against his shirt. 

“Consider me charmed,” You mused with a soft smile. “But I hardly think snogging in the middle of the dance floor is appropriate.” 

Sam’s eyebrow went up and his eyes didn’t stray from yours. 

“That’s not stopping everyone else from doing so, fairly sure they’ve forgotten where they are…” His comment was filled with humor and you couldn’t help but huff out a laugh. 

“I’m not that open with my affections, you can fix that if you want.” Sam was tugging you through the crowd by your hand in seconds as you giggled. You passed Jemima and her man of choice and cackling, her hand darted out and landed straight on your arse. You snorted in laughter, jumping forwards at the sting while glancing over your shoulder at Jemima. She had a massive grin on her face and was cackling her head off. You shot her a dirty look before disappearing into the edge of the crowd, breaking free of the dancing people. 

Now free of the overheated bodies, you and Sam stumbled around each other, heading in the direction of a much quieter corner of the club. Back hitting a wall, Sam’s lips found yours once more. The entire time you kissed he never once was pushy or overbearing, no, he stayed gentle and delicate. You could appreciate that because you never once felt like you were being smothered by his desires. Your fingers scratched at his shirt and dug into his hair, tugging and pulling at what you could grasp. Lost in the feeling of being wanted once more, you barely noticed that Sam’s kisses had turned deeper, more demanding, and less delicate. You weren’t being smothered but you could definitely tell that Sam was now kissing you in slight desperation. Like he too was grasping for what little affection he could get.

The grasp on your jaw tightened, pulling your lips closer to his and you were all too happy to respond. Your fingers pushed through silky hair and your nails scraped against his scalp. Lips ravished yours with desperation, migrating to your jaw, and you found yourself floating away in a reverie of daze and delight. Letting out a small moan, your back arched and your chest pressed again his. Soft hair brushed against your cheek as lips migrated to your neck. His lips were now exploring the skin of your neck, softly and yet with barely restrained want. He was holding back and you could feel it. Your eyelids fluttered open, and staring up at the hazy lights overhead, it took you a few moments to make sense of what you were seeing.

The room was dark, its occasional flashing lights gone. There was a dampness in the air you could now feel, there was even a smell of must… but your surroundings weren’t what brought a shiver up your spine. It was the silky black hair you had in your grasp. A beautiful raven black longer than the strands you had previously been grasping and tugging. Not the shorter chocolate brown hair Sam had. Your heart leaped in your chest, taking off at an almost painfully fast pace. You weren’t kissing Sam anymore, but something else entirely. With shaky breathing, your eyes slowly moved downwards to the man now gently nipping at the underside of your jaw. Your eyes met intense silver-blue ones, and the moment you realized what was going on, you jerked back against the wall. 

The world around you distorted and returned to the club, pulsating lights and music and all, and with a frown, Sam looked at you in concern. He touched your cheek, his thumb lightly running across your cheekbone. 

“Y/N, you okay love?” You blinked rapidly, reaching up to run your fingers over your neck, still feeling those kisses against your skin like haunting echoes. Like they had been real. “You spaced out for a moment…” 

Letting out a heavy breath and feeling your heart rate slowly ebbing to a normal pace, you slumped back against the wall. 

“Sorry, my mind got distracted.” You replied breathlessly, shaken to the core but trying to hold a calm and collected demeanor. You nervously chucked. “I don’t think the alcohol is helping either.” 

“Better get some water in you then, love,” Sam replied, returning the chuckle as he guided you back to the bar. He was the perfect gentleman, helping you up into a seat and ordering you water. While he talked with the bartender, you watched him, a growing new pit of dread forming in your stomach and one thought on your mind: he was back, and you had a feeling that this time, you weren’t going to be able to get rid of him with medication.

Date Published: 8/15/22

Last Edit: 4/25/23

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#morpheus x reader #morpheus #lord morpheus #dream the endless x reader #dream of the endless x reader #dream x reader #dream the endless #dream of the endless #the sandman netflix #the sandman x reader #sandman x reader #the sandman

[winns-stuff]

LO RANT:

Okay this is petty to say, but it’s late and I was thinking about Lore Olympus heading into it’s new episodes and I just… I don’t get it. All the plots are kinda done and over with if you think about it, toxic girlfriend is gone, kronos is dead, no more college, no more TGEOM, no more controlling mom, and no AOW storyline. What will be left is Apollo, marriage, babies and you can easily just give that one or a few episodes because let’s be fr, Rachel did that with the whole 10 year thing. Everything is gonna be dealt with without any character development or any real message. This is supposedly a feminist story yet it depicts the story of a young girl falling for an older much richer and powerful man and the young girl leaving everything she loves and everyone she loves to be with this man after three weeks just to marry and have kids. I don’t know about you guys but I just don’t want to see Persephone become a housewife, I don’t want her to be just a baby maker for Hades and before you even say anything let’s be real that’s where this story is going you may not like how I say it but I’m saying this in the nicest way I possibly can. Persephone is literally just there to “fix Hades”, give him kids, and be with him so he won’t be lonely. He’s so dependent on her emotionally that he physically doesn’t know what to do with himself, a lot of people mistake that for love but in the context of their relationship I see it as desperation.

Hades has always been desperate. Desperate to be like his brothers, to have a queen, to have a wife, to not be lonely. He’d literally pick anyone to be his wife at this point if he hadn’t met Persephone because we’ve seen him trying to flirt with women before, it’s always giving escort and no I don’t mean to sound like I’m shaming escorts or anything that’s pretty dumb seeming as they’re literally doing a job but in this context the women he’s choosing aren’t escorts they’re just unlucky women who have to deal with him. He pays them and buys them gifts and everything and gives them everything they have just so they’ll stay with him. I’ve been noticing that, and then once he finds another young woman he does the same thing. That man is so utterly pathetic it’s scary, if you’re ever going to get into a relationship you should at the very least deal with very huge behavioral problems, for example Hades’ temper, something doesn’t go his way he riots like a child or you disagree with him and he’s upset, you give him criticism and he’s rushing out in the rain. You see what I’m getting at? Hades isn’t a very suitable person because he expects the woman in the relationship to be able to fix himself for him, to make all his problems go away, to deal with him at his ugliest and everything when he can’t even comfort and help Persephone when she confessed to him, or Minthe when she was getting insulted (badly might I add) by his own family to his face. He doesn’t even try being there yet those women are gonna have to bend over backwards to please him or he’ll go find someone else to whine to. Hades is pathetic and I despise him immensely, I hate him with the passion of a thousand suns and I wanna make that intensely clear to anyone who comes across this page for the first time. He was never a good person and he can’t even better his ways for Persephone.

Anyways, that’s the end of this rant. I’m a little eager for Saturday since I have a few things I wanna say about the episode but yeah, school is back in session as most of you know and I am running out of rants and even some appreciations. I believe I was going to appreciate Artemis next though so I’ll just use this post to remind me whenever I get the chance. But as I always say these are completely meaningless I don’t want anyone taking this seriously, I’m just stating my thoughts and opinions and if you agree with it that’s great and if you don’t that’s great too. By the way, this isn’t to bash Hades Lovers or anything if you like the man I don’t want you to back down from him just because I, a random teen on the internet, said something about it. If he’s your type he’s your type and this wasn’t a bash or anything so hopefully it doesn’t seem like it if it does I’m very sorry.

#lo critical #anti lore olympus #anti lo #lore olympus critical

[dxncingwithastrxnger]

7. little bit of poison in me

A/N: Hey guys!!!! I’m finally getting out a new chapter!!! Sorry this took so long, my brain started acting up and wouldn’t let me focus much for these last few days. Then I realized that I wasn’t multi-tasking enough and then I was finally able to actually get this chapter fully written out!!! And with this chapter, we’re officially halfway through our story!!! And as a celebration of us being halfway, I would like to announce that there will be a sequel to this fanfic after it’s finished!!! I have everything all planned out and I’m excited for the rest of this story as well as the continuation. Also!! I would like to say that if any of you feel like we’ve learned a lot more about Tristan than we have about Lance, that is being done on purpose and we will 100% learn more about Lance as well, we’re just learning more about Tristan right now!!! I really hope you guys like this chapter, please enjoy reading!!!

Pairing(s): Tristan x Lancelot, Meliodas x Elizabeth

Summary: Our couple enjoys a nice evening with Tristan’s parents, but Tristan can’t shake the feeling that someone has been watching him. If only he could’ve been proved wrong.

Tags: Makeout session, smut, almost panic attacks, home invasion

Song Inspiration: Tag, You’re It By Melanie Martinez

Word Count: 5,719

Not beta’d, all mistakes are my own.

~*~

[Series Masterlist]

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7] [Chapter 8] [Chapter 9]

[Read on AO3]

[Author Masterlist]

~*~

[2 Weeks Earlier]

"Lance, what are you doing??" Tristan whisper-shouts at the blonde currently trailing searing kisses down his neck. The silverette has one hand wrapped around the back of the man's shoulder and the other tangled in his hair, his body sitting on top of his old desk in his bedroom at his parent's house. He pulls on Lance's hair in warning when he starts sucking and biting at Tristan's collarbone, but it's only half-hearted and Lance must know it since he only continues his actions.

As Lance finally pulls away to meet his eyes, Tristan looks up at him, face red and lips formed into a pout. "Why'd you have to go and do that?" He huffs.

Lance just chuckles at him. "You're the one who had to wear that damned ponytail. Leaving all this skin on display without any pretty marks on it is a damn shame." Lance whispers huskily and Tristan's flush deepens at the hungry look in the taller man's eyes.

"I cannot go to dinner with my parents with fresh hickies on my neck, you jerk." He insists.

The other man grins at him and pulls his ponytail forward and placing it so that it covers his collarbone. "Problem solved."

Tristan rolls his eyes but smiles softly at him. "What am I gonna do with you?"

Lance leans in closer and brushes their lips together before answering. "I've got a few ideas considering you've been gone all week." He says before pushing his hips forward and pressing them against the silverette's.

Tristan gasps, instinctively returning the motion as heat spreads throughout his body. "Lance." He tries to sound bothered by current events and fails miserably when the name slips through his lips as a moan. Truth is, he missed Lance as much as Lance clearly missed him. He'd been in Danafall for a week, going through a few photoshoots as well as a runway walk. Him and Lance had planned to go to dinner with Tristan's parents after he got back, which was only that morning, and the first they'd seen each other since then was when Tristan was picking Lance up to head where they are now, at his parents' house.

"You know, next time, you should just come with me, that way we don't end up with problems like this." Tristan says pointedly as he wraps his legs around Lance's waist tightly, grinding against him, an action which the blonde-haired man returns without hesitation.

"Oh, I'm definitely going to." Lance moans, nipping Tristan's jaw.

Tristan rolls his hips forward with a groan. "You're gonna get me in so much trouble one of these days." He remarks.

The other man runs his hands under Tristan's shirt and up his sides, causing him to give a full-body shiver. "Says the troublemaker." Lance whispers hotly in his ear before sucking on the patch of skin right behind it.

"Fuck." Tristan pants. Only a week apart and he's already this worked up. It shouldn't be too much of a surprise. The two men have been nearly joined at the hip for the past two months, seeing each other almost everyday even if only for a few minutes.

"My place tonight or yours?" The blonde slides his hands over the silverette's chest and pinches one of his nipples, pulling a whine from him.

"Yours. We can go to yours." He replies, pulling hard enough on Lance's hair to pull his head back and expose his neck more, the motion causing Lance's hips to buck forward and let out a sound that Tristan would almost describe as a whimper. Tristan feels a smirk tug at his lips. He's just recently discovered what kind of reaction the motion draws from the man and it absolutely delights him. It's the first sign of genuinely submissive behavior he's witnessed from Lance and he thinks he might bring it up to him soon, see if he'd be willing to try switching roles at some point.

"Shit." Lance breathes as Tristan kisses along his collarbone before pulling his shirt collar back and creating a mark at the top of Lance's chest.

The two of them are moving in sync, rubbing against each other and pushing higher and higher. Tristan pulls Lance's lips to his, moaning into his mouth as Lance does the same back. It's the easiest way to try and keep their volume down as they get closer. Tristan bites down on Lance's lip and the blonde-haired man's entire body tenses up, the silverette swallowing his groan as he, too, reaches his peak, his toes curling and his eyes squeezing shut. Lance pants, his head falling against Tristan's neck and Tristan buries his face in the man's hair, both of them working to catch their breath as they come back down again.

After a few minutes, Lance pulls back and Tristan opens his eyes as he feels hands cup his face. The taller man is looking at him with a tender smile and warm, affectionate eyes. Tristan returns the look, reaching up and placing his own hands over both of Lance's, turning his head to the left and kissing the palm of that hand before turning his head to the right and doing the same thing.

"We should probably clean ourselves up a bit." Lance points out quietly.

Tristan snorts softly. "Yeah, you're probably right. I'll use the bathroom in here. You can use the one down the hall and I'll meet you in the kitchen?" He suggests.

Lance gives him a small peck on the lips. "Sounds good to me."

~*~

Tristan hums softly to himself as he walks into the kitchen, heading towards the fridge with plans to get himself something to drink, but he stops. Pinned to the fridge with a magnet is the ripped off front of a magazine from last month. The picture taking over the entire front cover is of Lance and Tristan, the two of them sharing a kiss at Liones' pride parade. Tristan had worn his hair up in a bun and had on an off the shoulder t-shirt in the colors of the pansexual flag while Lance wore a shirt that had 'I like kissing guys' printed across the front. Both of them wore matching rainbow bandanas in their hair and had the word 'Pride' painted across both of their cheeks. In the shot that had been taken of them, Tristan had his arms around Lance's neck, Lance holding Tristan up so that his feet were off the ground, and both of them were smiling widely against each other's lips. It had instantly become Tristan's absolute favorite picture as soon as he'd seen it. He smiles happily at seeing it on display in his parents' home.

He opens up the fridge and reaches in to grab a bottle of fruit punch when the hairs on the back of his neck raise up. Goosebumps appear on his skin and he shivers, but it has nothing to do with the cold radiating from the machine in front of him. The bottle he's only just grabbed is hovering over the shelf, shaking in his now trembling hand. Not again, he thinks. The feeling running through him, the reason for his body's reaction, is that of being watched. A human's instinct allows them to know when someone's eyes are on them, even if most people don't pay attention to it. It's also not hard to figure out whether or not those eyes on you are wanted or not. Tristan has experienced many people looking at him when he's not looking at them. When Lance looks at him, his bright red irises fill him with nothing but warmth and happiness. When paparazzi look at him, he feels a prickle of annoyance and exasperation. But what he feels right now...

He gulps. His body won't move, rooted to its current spot. This isn't the first time this has happened. He's had this feeling multiple times over the past month and wants it to just stop. He squeezes his eyes shut, willing the feeling to go away. It's nothing. Just some twisted feeling of anxiety. But his brain was not convinced. Because everything in him insists that it is something. That someone is right there, watching his every move, or lack thereof. But it isn't just that. Whoever is watching him isn't doing so kindly. Whenever he feels these eyes on him, he feels nothing but ill intent aimed at him.

The silverette hears a strange sound then. Crick. Tictictic. It's similar to that of someone trying to open a combination lock, but not quite the same. Something is off about it. Whatever it is, it makes Tristan even more uneasy than he already is. The man starts to feel that if he were to turn around right then, someone would be right there, waiting. And then, just like that, it's gone. He no longer feels those eyes on him, no longer hears anymore strange sounds. It's as if it never even happened. Just like that. He blinks. What?

"You okay, Tris?"

"Shit!" Tristan startles, immediately straightening up and turning to see Lance beside him. His brows are furrowed and he looks concerned, but when the shorter man swings around to face him, his eyes widen and he reaches out to touch Tristan's arm.

"Hey, hey, it's just me. What's the matter?" He quickly reassures.

Tristan takes a deep breath and breathes it out as his shoulders sag. "It's nothing, it's just-" His voice comes out quieter than he intends and he clears his throat. "It's just that feeling again." He tells him. Lance's eyes immediately harden and narrow as he looks over Tristan's head and behind him, towards the kitchen's only window. His eyes seem to be searching for something as he does this, the silver-haired watching them move back and forth, but Lance just looks back at him with a frown.

It's just like always. No one there and not a single thing to suggest anyone ever was. Tristan feels tears prick at his eyes and does his best to force them back, reaching forward and wrapping his arms around Lance's waist, burying his face in the man's torso as he stays silent. He hears the fridge door shut as the other man's arms wrap around him and hold him tightly, his previous task to quench his thirst long forgotten. He's not sure how long they stay like that, he doesn't really care to count the minutes. He just enjoys the comfort as his shaking eventually stops and his body slowly relaxes.

"You guys ready to go?" Tristan hears his mom ask. He slowly pulls away from Lance, remembering the mark on his collarbone at the last second and quickly making sure his ponytail is in place before they both turn around. Tristan's parents are standing a few feet away from them, his dad wearing a soft smirk on his face and his mom smiling at them brightly.

"Yes." Tristan smiles, looking to Lance who nods his head. What happened a few minutes ago is not forgotten, but now in the back of his mind to be mulled over later. "Lets go!" The group of four then collectively leaves the kitchen and heads outside to the limo waiting out front to take them to the restaurant they'd be having dinner at. Tristan is sure that if either of his parents could actually successfully cook, they'd have dinner at the house, but he knows from past experience that going out to eat is definitely the much better option.

Each of them settle in as the limo pulls away from the house and onto the street and Tristan's mom turns to him. "Tristan, how was Danafall? Did everything go well?" She asks him curiously.

"Oh, yes, everything was wonderful and the runway this time around was really fun. And," He taps his fingers on the seat below him, a shy little grin making its way to his face as he looks at the three people with him. "I have some news." He says, trying to contain his excitement.

"Oh?" His dad raises an eyebrow and his mom clasps her hands in front of her chest, both looking at him expectantly. The blonde beside him is looking at him with his head tilted in curiosity.

Tristan giggles in his excitement as he makes his announcement. "I finally talked to Gowther about doing some modelling for some more...feminine clothing," He pauses simply for the dramatic effect and nothing more. "And I'll be making my official debut as a model for his next Magick Heart line!" He exclaims.

"Awesome!"

"That's amazing!"

His parents speak at the same time, both looking at him with proud smiles and he can't help but beam at their reaction. Then his head is turned and his chin lifted up as Lance places a soft kiss on his lips.

When he pulls back again, his boyfriend is looking at him with pride as well, but a different kind of pride than what his parents showed him. The look in his eyes is more of a possessive sort of pride that makes the silverette flush slightly and a layer of heat is simmering there as well that Tristan can't wait to ask about later. "Congratulations, baby. You've earned it." Lance tells him sincerely. He can't help but give him a shy smile, but before he can actually reply, someone clearing their throat draws their attention.

"We're here, lovebirds." Tristan's dad says with a cheeky grin as his mother giggles. Tristan blushes at the comment and he can see Lance do the same out of the corner of his eye and instead of answering, he just reaches for the door to the limo, stepping out first with Lance right behind him.

Flashes instantly blind him and he internally groans. Of course they're already here. Lance grabs his hand and intertwines their fingers, squeezing reassuringly and both of them walk forward side by side. Tristan looks around him as he walks to the restaurant entrance, something feeling off that had nothing to do with the paparazzi surrounding him and he can't tell if it's because something genuinely is off or if it's just a feeling leftover from what happened at the house. His brows furrow slightly, but he does his best to shake it off, looking forward again as they reach the doors.

He breathes a sigh of relief once they're inside the building and he leans his head against Lance's shoulder, Lance letting go of his hand to wrap an arm around him. He watches as his dad steps forward and gives the name attached to their reservation and the four of them are soon lead to their table.

"This place is gorgeous." Lance comments quietly, looking around the open space.

"I may or may not have suggested a place I thought you'd like." Tristan admits with a grin up at the man.

Lance snorts and grins back at him. "Of course you did."

Tristan shrugs and straightens up as they reach the table, pulling out a chair and then looking to Lance, an eyebrow raised expectantly as he gestures to the chair. The blonde shakes his head and rolls his eyes playfully as he sits down in the chair and the silverette beams, taking the seat beside him. The table itself is round with four chairs evenly spaced apart from each other. Lance is on Tristan's right, his mom on his left, and his dad directly across from him.

Suddenly, his mom leans closer to him and presses something small into his hand. "This usually comes in handy." She whispers to him before pulling back again. Tristan looks at her in confusion and then looks down at what's now in his hand. It looks to be a small tube of liquid foundation. He looks to his mom again and she glances at him briefly without turning her head before clearing her throat quietly and casually running her fingers over her collarbone. Tristan's eyes widen and he chokes slightly as he reaches up and finds that his ponytail had moved and was no longer covering the mark Lance had left on him, leaving it in full view of anybody who looked at him. How long has it been visible? Who else saw? Did any of the paparazzi?

He feels his face heat up, completely mortified. He quickly ducks his head and looks down at his lap, unscrewing the cap on the foundation, pouring a little bit into his hand, and reaching up to spread the makeup over the mark, trying his best to make the action seem as casual as possible. He twists the cap back on and shoves the tube into his pocket, taking a deep breath. He finally looks up and turns to see Lance looking at him, the smirk on his face telling Tristan that he clearly knew exactly what had just happened. Tristan narrows his eyes at him Lance's smirk turns into a boyish grin, the blonde winking at him before turning back to the menu in front of him. The shorter man bits back a giggle at his boyfriend's antics, embarrassment forgotten for the time being.

"So, Lance, what have you been up to? Working on any big projects?" Tristan's dad speaks up, looking at Lance.

Lance looks back at him, his eyes lighting up suddenly. "Yeah, actually! Aunt Diane just recruited me to this big mural project of hers that she wants me to be one of the lead artists on." He says excitedly.

"Oh, the empowerment murals, right?" Tristan's mom asks. "She told me about those. I think it's a wonderful idea."

"Empowerment murals?" Tristan asks curiously, looking between the two. His dad has a similar look on his face.

"Woman empowerment. She wants to put up a bunch of murals dedicated to different women in power, both in the past and present. It's gonna help promote her new series focusing specifically on women's influences on the history of Britannia." Lance explains. "Next week, I'm supposed to be meeting up with her so that she can introduce me to the rest of the artists I'll be working with and then we can figure out when we'll be able to start the first one. It'll be dedicated to Matrona Dacks."

"Oh, wow." Tristan says.

"Diane has always looked up to her a lot." His dad says thoughtfully.

"I can't wait to see how they turn out. With you working on it, I know they'll all be beautiful." Tristan's mom tells Lance.

"Mom's right. Your artwork is gorgeous, babe." Tristan agrees. Lance blushes under the praise, looking almost bashful. Tristan grins and grabs Lance's hand. Bright red eyes find his and then lips are pressed against the top of his hand and Tristan's heart flutters with emotions he can't even begin to explain in that exact moment.

~*~

About halfway through dinner, Tristan gets up to use the bathroom, giving Lance a quick kiss before walking away from their table. Everything is going fine, not that any of them expected otherwise. Lance knows Tristan's parents well, they're almost family to him. Considering that, Lance probably should've expected the look Tristan's dad throws his way once Tristan is gone.

"What?" Lance asks, bite of food halfway to his mouth, an eyebrow raised in the other blonde's direction.

Tristan's mom, who was looking around the restaurant with a soft smile, turns back to the table and looks at Lance. She then follows Lance's eyeline to her husband and the intense look he's sending Lance's way. "Oh, Meliodas. It's just Lancelot, isn't the intimidation a little unnecessary?" She questions, frowning.

The man narrows his eyes at Meliodas even more and Lance actually starts to worry. But then he laughs. "Nah, I'm just messin' with you, Lance. I know you're a good guy and that you'll take care of Tristan exactly how he needs to be." He reaches forward and pats Lance's shoulder before going back to his food. Lance shakes his head at him.

"He's right, you know." Tristan's mom speaks up. Lance glances to her and sees her looking down at her plate, that frown still on her face. "He doesn't like to admit it, but our boy is a lot more sensitive than he lets on. But I've seen how you work with people like him. I know you'll always give him the patience he needs no matter what kind of relationship the two of you have." She looks back up suddenly and gives him a bright, watery smile, her eyes glistening.

To say that Lance is confused would be the understatement of the century. 'But I've seen how you work with people like him.' What the hell is that supposed to mean? His brows furrow. "What do you me-"

"Hey, uh, L-Lance, baby, c-can-can we go ahead and get the rest of our stuff, you know, to go? I'm-I'm just not really feeling at my best after such a...such a long week, you know, can we just...just go? R-right now? Please?" Tristan appears right next to him. Lance locks eyes with him and sees nothing but fear. The blonde is immediately standing up and grabbing his hand.

"Yes. Yes, of course, whatever you want." He tells him without hesitation.

"Wait, what?"

"Tristan, is everything alright?"

Tristan ignores the questions from his parents, or maybe he doesn't hear them, as he looks over his shoulder and behind him, in the direction of the bathrooms. Lance sees the prince gulp and before he has the chance to see whatever it is he could've been looking at, Tristan is suddenly grabbing his arm and pulling him away from the table and towards the entrance to the restaurant. "On second thought, let's just go ahead and leave without the food." Lance stumbles forward, quickly doing his best to keep pace with the shorter man as they leave, whispers and exclaims from other people in the restaurant being heard behind them.

Once they're out, Tristan lets go of Lance's hand but keeps his fast pace, Lance now beside him. "Tris? What's wrong? What happened?" He asks.

"I'll explain once we're in the car. I messaged Jade and asked him to come give us a ride back to my place since he's only a few minutes away, he's meeting us out by the street. I'll pick up my car from my parents' tomorrow."  The man is practically jogging through the parking lot and he's visibly shaking, looking around them every so often, as if checking for something. Luckily, there isn't many paparazzi around and the ones that are there seem to be keeping their distance.

Lance stays silent the rest of the way to the street, where Jade was waiting for them, just as Tristan said he'd be. Tristan immediately gets into the backseat, Lance sliding in with him. Tristan doesn't bother buckling up, instead pulling his knees to his chest and curling up, facing forwards. "Just start driving, please. My apartment." He tells Jade quietly.

"Oh, okay." Jade says slowly, catching Lance's eye in the rearview mirror and all Lance can do is return his questioning look with a frown and shake of his head.

Jade looks back to the road and pulls away from the restaurant, starting the drive to Tristan's place. Lance turns to his boyfriend and reaches out a hand, gently putting it on Tristan's knee, completely unsure if the touch would be welcome or not. The silver-haired man jumps slightly but quickly grabs Lance's hand when he starts to pull it away. He pulls Lance's hand to his mouth and starts placing light kisses over the top of it before he stops and just rests his face against it. He stays like that for a few minutes, eyes closed, and Tristan as the prince's stops shaking as much as before, though it doesn't go away completely, and his breathing slows down compared to his quick pants from before. Then, he opens his eyes and lifts his head, looking at Lance. His eyes are still wide and frightened, filled with barely unshed tears, and Lance's heart breaks at the sight.

He immediately takes his hand from Tristan's and cups the man's cheeks. "Baby. What happened?" Lance asks him, desperately wanting to know the answer so that he knows how to make things better.

Tristan's eyes close again as he leans into Lance's touch, one of those unshed tears finally falling. "When I went to the bathroom, a man followed me in. I'd passed him on my way there, in the little hallway, but I hadn't paid much attention to him. But as I was washing my hands, he walked in and started washing his hands, too, in the sink right beside me. He asked if I was Tristan Liones, and I said yes, because people recognize me and that's normal. I don't think it would've changed anything anyways. He seemed to be well aware of who I was without me confirming it for him." His voice took on an angry tone towards the end that Lance felt himself resonating with.

"What did he do?" Lance asks. "He did something, didn't he?"

Tristan nods once. "Right before I got through the bathroom door, he came up behind me and blocked me i-into the corner." The prince's lip wobbled and his breathing started to pick up again. "H-He started asking me all these qu-uestions and t-telling me things. He was t-talking about things. Th-things that he..." Tristan sobs. "Things that he shou-shouldn't know-ow." He whispers the last part and Lance isn't quite sure what he means by it, but he pushes it to the back of his mind for later. What's important right now is comforting his boyfriend.

Lance pulls the silverette into his lap and wraps his arms around him tightly. Tristan clings to him and sobs, burying his face into Lance's neck. "I got ya now, sweetheart. He's not here anymore, it's just you and me. Just you and me." He tells him reassuringly.

The car comes to a stoplight and Lance watches Jade look back at them through the rearview mirror again, his eyes sad and concerned. "Not to intrude or anything," He says quietly as he turns back to the road and pulls forward. "But Trist should probably talk to the cops about that. The guy didn't do anything to get arrested as long as he didn't actually touch him, but maybe they'll know who he is or someone else has had a similar experience. Better to do it just in case, you know?"

Lance nods. He had a good point. "Yeah, that's a good idea. What do you think, Tris?" He asks the man in his arms softly. Tristan was still crying, Lance could feel his tears hitting his neck, but he wasn't sobbing as hard as before. The only response Lance got was a small nod against him and the blonde just tightened his arms around him, nuzzling his face into the silver hair atop the smaller man's head.

They finally reach Tristan's apartment and Lance helps Tristan out of the car, both of them watching as Jade drives away and leaves them alone. Tristan huddles as close to Lance as he can, arms wrapped around the bigger man's waist and head resting against his torso. It makes walking a little slow, but Lance doesn't complain, just keeps his arm around him and leads them into the building. As they start walking through the lobby of the building, someone comes rushing out of the elevator, head down and speaking quietly to someone on the phone pressed to their ear. Lance just barely moves out of the way to avoid getting run into by the person who was clearly in some kind of rush.

As they walk towards the door, something falls out of their pocket without their notice and Lance tries to call out to them. "Hey, you dro..." He trails off as the person pushes through the front door and leaves, never even turning back in his direction. His brow furrows and he looks to Tristan, who just looks up at him and shrugs. He does the same and bends down to pick the item up. It seems to be some sort of folded-up handkerchief. He puts it in his pants pocket for now. Maybe they'll come looking for it again. He'll give it to the front desk tomorrow morning when someone's actually working.

The two of them get on the elevator and ride it up to Tristan's apartment on the 4th floor. They walk down the hallway to his door and Tristan unlocks the door, allowing them both to step inside as the door closes behind them. Lance steps forward, intent on heading to the kitchen for something to drink. "So, I'm thinking tomorrow morning we can head over to the police station. Donny's uncle is a cop and I know he'd be willing to sit and listen even if-"

"Lance." Tristan's voice makes him stop. It's similar to how it was when the silverette had first come back to their table from his trip to the bathroom. Lance turns to him.

"What is it?" He watches as Tristan slowly looks around the room, his mouth moving like he's speaking, but whatever he's saying is too quiet for the blonde to hear.

"Tha-tha-that lamp." He points a shaky finger at a lamp on the end table on the left side of his couch. "Th-that lamp wasn't on when I left." He swings around and points to a stack of mail on the table and Lance notices that there was a letter that had fallen onto the floor right below the stack. "Th-those were all on the table and they we-were in th-the-the-" Tristan seemed to be losing his ability to speak in his fear and he walked forward and poked his finger at the left corner closest to the couch, the opposite corner the mail stack was in. "H-here, I had them right h-here." He swings around and faces the kitchen. He points at the bar counter separating the kitchen from the living room. "...And that e-envelope wasn't th-there." He finishes.

Lance gulps, some of his own fear starting to creep up. "Tristan a-are you saying that-"

"S-someone was here. In my ap-partment." Tristan looks at him with wide eyes filled with horror and Lance is sure he's giving him a similar look in return. Tristan then looks away from him and slowly walks over to the bar where the envelope he'd pointed out before is. He picks it up with shaky hands. "I-it just has m-my name on the fr-ront. Handwritten..."

Lance walks over. "I'm gonna call the police, baby. I think maybe we should leave that alone until they get here." He says softly, pulling out his phone.

Tristan shakes his head. "I wanna know what's inside." He says, picking up the envelope.

Lance hesitates for a moment. "...Okay, but be careful, please." He nods and Lance turns back to his phone, pulling up his keypad to dial 911.

"911, what's your emergency?" The phone operator asks.

"My name is Lance, I'd like to report a break in." Lance explains the situation to the person on the phone and he's in the middle of giving them Tristan's address when a shrill scream fills the apartment.

Lance rushes over to Tristan, who's now backing himself into the wall and shaking his head, looking down at something on the ground. Lance follows his line of sight to the envelope, what appears to be a bunch of photos spilling out of it. Lance crouches down to look closer, the operator's questioning on the other line going unnoticed to him. Each and every picture has Tristan in it. There's dozens of them. Tristan with Isolde. Tristan with Lance. Tristan walking to his car. Tristan taking pictures with fans. Tristan looking over his shoulder. Lance's hand shakes as he picks up one of the pictures. It was of him and Tristan kissing, looking like it was taken from outside a window in Lance's apartment. Then, another picture catches Lance's eye and as soon as he sees it, he knows it's the one that made Tristan scream.

This last picture shows only Tristan. It looks like he's standing in front of his kitchen sink, washing dishes or filling something up. There's a window right on the wall above the sink in Tristan's kitchen, his first thought is that it was taken from outside of it. But as Lance looks at it more closely, he realizes that isn't possible. The angle is all wrong. The picture is taken as if the camera is angled up at Tristan, not down. And there was no look of glass over the picture, no reflections or outside shadows. And it seemed too close. Almost as if the picture had been taken from inside the apartment, not outside of it.

~*~

A/N: What do you guys think?? Things are getting intense. And just a general warning, as I’m sure you guys have already realized, things only get worse from here. For now, at least. Things will get better eventually, but, you know, that’s awhile into the future of our boys. Please lemme know what you think!!! Chapter 8 shouldn’t take as long to write, so expect it in the next couple of days!!! Thank y’all for reading!!!

~*~

Taglist:

@darkelf-7​

@ivyllamauwu​​

@toryhis​

[Lemme know if you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series and any other stories relating to it!!!]

#purple_strxnger #purple_strxnger_stories #4koa #4kota #fanfiction #fanfic #au #4kota fanfiction #4kota fanfic #4kota au #tristan liones #lancelot #4kota tristan #4kota lancelot #tristan x lancelot #lancelot x tristan #trilance #trislot #trance #trislance #lanstan #lantris #lancetris #trilance fanfiction #trilance fanfic #trilance au

[louthingg]

i am definitely going to buzz/shave my head this summer and no one can convince me otherwise, so here’s some reasons why:

i am literally sick of having hair. it’s short already, but it’s still so much to manage and i want it GONE (at least for a time).

probably the biggest thing is sensory issues. i cannot tell you the amount of times i’ve had meltdowns and literally tried to RIP MY HAIR OUT to get it off my head.

i get sweaty really easily, and hair makes it 100% worse, especially during the summer.

i tend to get obsessive when my hair doesn’t look exactly like i want it, so it’ll be great to get a break from that.

i’ve got acne (especially on my forehead and chin) and i wanna give it some time to heal without hair on my face.

i need a big change in my appearance without much risk of disapproval or pressure from teachers and my classmates to feel fresh for the new school year.

despite not having much dysphoria, it’s always nice to have your gender affirmed, and a shaved head will make me look more masculine.

another thing about queerness—my queer friends who have done it say it’s very gender affirming.

i really wanna try something new!! i feel like this will be a good, pretty low risk option. hair grows back, after all.

some of my friends have done it and say it’s a great experience—especially during the warmer months.

i ride horses (i’m going to start showing this summer), im a camp counselor for a program at my local barn, and im (most likely) doing another 4-week training session for a different camp! this means i’m gonna be out in the heat a lot, and i wanna make sure i don’t get overheated.

if anyone who’s shaved their head before (or knows someone who has) wants to add anything, or give advice, please feel free!!

#summer #autistic #adhd #audhd #sensory issues #meltdowns #sensory overload #overstimulation #neurodivergent #trans #transgender #queer #lgbtq+

[calzone-d]

I’m so psyched for headcannons!!! What about one that’s a little angsty like you and Ted on a break?

i’m glad you’re excited! thanks for sending this in! we all love a little angst. (tagging @carmylasso because I know she’s all about some angst)

got a lil long winded with this one and just ran with it, don’t say i didn’t warn you!

also, spoilers for season 3 if you haven’t watched yet.

ted would absolutely overthink everything

i feel like he’d intiate it while dealing with the whole dr. jacob mess

he thinks about how easily michelle cheated, how it was right under his nose

how he had NO idea it was even happening

his anxiety gets the best of him and combined with the stress of the team he has a “you know what? let’s push everyone away” moment

you guys had only gone on a couple dates, but have been close friends since he moved to richmond

he felt he’d gotten over Michelle enough to where he could finally express his feelings for you without that getting in the way

def would do it after the phone call, and a couple glasses of whiskey

he does it over the phone, his words are slurred and his voice is thick and you can tell somethings just wrong, but he hangs up before you can question him any further

you text him

“Ted, please talk to me about this. Things have been going good, I thought”

“They were. It’s not you, I’m sorry.”

and that’s it for a couple days

EESH maybe he doesn’t show up to work for the rest of the week, calls in “sick”

and when he tries pulling that excuse the next week, beard & roy go over to his apartment and straighten him the fuck out

they make him shower, help him clean, make him eat

“What does y/n have to say about all of this?”

“She uh- she don’t know.”

and they think about how you acted at work and put the pieces together

they lovingly rip into him about how he’s known you for over a year now, how they know he’s hurt by michelle’s cheating but not everyone is like that

what gets him is when they talk about how you’ve been at work. not happy or bubbly as usual, eating alone in your office, always having a sniffle and puffy eyes in the halls.

“Shit, y’all.. I-I did that to her.. I was just tryin’ to avoid getting hurt again I never meant to-“

Beard shakes is head and is like “No, tell her that”

would have a therapy session the next day and explains everything to dr sharon, she also tells him that he handled that wrong and should’ve just let you in, or asked for some reassurance from you

after that, he goes to your apartment with flowers and shaky hands

you answer in a robe, wine bottle behind you, eyes red and swollen, he can tell you’ve been crying.

your usually tidy living room is super cluttered

“Can I come in? I’ve got some explainin’ to do.”

breaks his heart when you sit on the opposite end of the couch instead of right beside him

he explains what happened with michelle, his thought process of not wanting to get hurt again, all of it

“I wasn’t the one that did that, Ted. I shouldn’t be punished for her mistake.”

“I know.. That was unfair, and I’m sorry.”

definitely not the type of guy to ignore the fact he made a mistake

“This won’t work without trust, Ted. I cant be in a relationship with you if you don’t trust me.”

“There was never an issue with trust, it was just- I was scared. So scared, y/n.”

“Then tell me that next time. Tell me what you’re scared of, or if i’ve done something to make you feel scared, or if you just need reassurance. I can work with that, Ted, but not if you just shut me out.”

“Do you think we could maybe uh, make some sorta system for when I’m feelin’ that way? Because I can’t promise I won’t be kinda scared for a while but I don’t want it messin’ with what we’ve got goin’ on. Don’t want her messin’ up anymore of the good things in my life.”

sooo that’s what you do. maybe similar to the “oklahoma” situation, you come up with a word for when he’s feeling scared or anxious, particularly when it’s related to the relationship

tears up a bit, it’s just pretty emotional overall

maybe you sit in on a session with dr sharon

i do think he’d make some strong improvement after that, like how we’ve seen with his panic attacks

would set boundaries about things that make him especially anxious, and asks you to do the same

very open and honest as a lover, regardless of the whole michelle shitshow

so apologetic for a while because he know what he did was wrong

oh god just imagine him holding while he calms down that night

he’d need you so close

just needs to feel you around him

needs to feel you breathe, smell your shampoo, needs to know you’re there for him

i’m so fucking soft for this man

thanks anon!! this was fun!!

#ted lasso x reader #ted lasso #ted lasso thoughts #answered #ted lasso headcanon #ted lasso fic #ted lasso imagine #ted lasso angst #my wrtitng

[lady-assnali]

Keeping on-brand, I’ve been thinking about baby model Gigi lately, and this simple little friend story appeared. It’s just friendship and a good memory with underlying baby Crygi feelings.

           “Okay, step up a little bit.”

           “Where the hell did you take me?? Why are there so many-oh god no. No. Are we in Times Square?”

           Silence-followed immediately by Jan’s shit-eating grin and Crystal’s mischievous giggling. Gigi may be blindfolded, and she may be a self-proclaimed ditz, but the memories of being run down by tourists in the city have burned the feeling of Times Square into her body’s internal memory bank.

           “What would possess you to bring me here on a Friday night-how much did we just spend on that Uber?”

           “Shh, relax.”

           “We could’ve taken the subway if you’d have just let me know where we were going!”

           “But then you wouldn’t have come! And you have to be here. This is very important.”

           “Jan, I love you so much but this is you talking. And if it’s you talking I’m lead to believe that we’re on our way to see Wicked again. Which…I love the show, don’t get me wrong, but there’s only so many times I can sit next to you while you sob through Defying Gravity before I need several months to recover.”

           “It’s worth it, Geege. Trust me.” Crystal gives her arm a little squeeze, and they slow down a bit. Through the noise of the traffic, Gigi can hear Jackie and Jan arguing about directions. She wonders how exactly she got to this point, a college dropout with a group of silly, perfectly mismatched friends who she’d follow blindfolded into the busiest part of the city without reservations. One moment, she’d been sitting in art history wondering what she was doing in New York and the next she was working alongside one of her idols, college free and learning from the best. Those first few weeks in college had given her the friends she’d needed to get through the work, so it hadn’t all gone to waste. They gave her the college experience; parties, clubs, the freedom of being away from home and finding yourself. They also gave her late night study sessions huddled up in her apartment while she worked on her latest project, helping Jan through auditions by reading through lines with her or being Crystal’s comic relief while she painted, making snacks and playlists and reciting horrible jokes. Jackie-well, there wasn’t much to be helped there, but Gigi likes to think that asking her questions about her latest study in political science is enough support as it is.

           They’re her friends, and she’s missed them so much while being away-even as the bantering continues as Jackie and Jan turn her body multiple times, quipping back and forth with each other until Crystal’s hands take both of her shoulders to steady her.

           “Ladies, please. I know we’re all very excited, but I’m pretty sure we’re a block away from where we need to be anyway.” Crystal’s voice is diplomatic, yet very clearly dripping with humor. Gigi groans, shifting her weight from toe to toe. She’s sure they’re causing a scene, although the middle of Times Square surely is the place where something like this mismatched group of people and a blindfolded woman will blend right into the background. Without her sight, every other sense is on fire; Crystal’s hold on her shoulder’s is warm and tingling, Jackie and Jan’s voices very clear through the sirens. She’s sure she’d be able to tune into any of the other passing conversations if she truly tried.

           “We need to find it soon, Geege is literally covered in goosebumps. One week in California and she forgets how to be a New Yorker.” Having just come back from a week in Los Angeles, she’d forgotten just how crisp the Spring nights could be. She finds herself shivering at Jackie’s observation, relief coming only when a soft, fuzzy coat is draped over her shoulders. Crystal. Crystal and her big fluffy jacket she’d refused to take off after thrifting it for only $3 when Gigi had pointed out that it should have been marked way higher. A steal of a deal, the pastel rainbow fuzz could be described only as cotton candy in a piece of clothing, and yet somehow her best friend made it look as though it were the most sought-after item on the market.

           The arguing subsides when Jan gasps, grabbing Gigi’s arm tight and shouting.

           “There! There! Look! Do you see it?”

           Jackie gasps and Crystal squeals, Gigi feeling her jump up and down from beside her. The three talk all at once, exclamations of oh my god and are you kidding and one airy sigh of jeez before Gigi scowls.

           “I’m going to take this thing off if you don’t tell me what’s going on!”

           “Oh! Shit! OH my god, sorry, here!” Jan, in her excitable fashion, all but rips the eye mask off of Gigi’s face, and for a moment she’s paralyzed by the brightness of the lights. Crystal’s hugging her side now, pointing her finger up at a wall of buildings illuminated by lit-up advertisements. Then, she sees it.

           “What,” It’s all she can say, breathless and disbelieving as her eyes widen in wonder. Jackie has her phone pointed dutifully at her, and Jan’s own camera clicks, but Gigi is stuck in place with an open mouth.

           “That’s me.”

           “That’s you!” Crystal squeezes her, eyes torn between the lit-up advertisement and the real person as they fill up with tears. “You’re literally up in lights.”

           “I don’t even…I can’t….oh my god.”

           “Take a picture! Did you take a picture? Gigi, stand right there!”

           Crystal backs up and stands beside their friends, pulling her own phone from her pocket and waving her hand at the redhead. For a moment, Gigi looks back at them with her mouth agape. Then, she’s turned around, posing for the camera with a well-practiced tilt of the head. She perfectly mimics the pose at hand, sultry eyes and parted lips, a hand on her hip and eyes that simmer with practiced, untouchable energy. Then she laughs, shrugging Crystal’s jacket down to her elbows and hugging it to her, sticking out her tongue. It’s an infectious energy, one that continues on as she turns one more time to stare back at her image illuminated and blown up to the size of  buildings.

           She ends up posting the photos for her rapidly rising  follower count later that night, after they’ve gone out to celebrate (after telling Jan that no, they wouldn’t be entering the Wicked lottery that night). She’s tucked into her bed between Crystal and Jackie, Jan on Jackie’s other side. It’s a tight squeeze but they pile onto each other anyway, limbs over limbs and laughter stopping any attempt at sleeping.

           Crystal’s head lolls onto Gigi’s shoulder as she watches her flip through the pictures she’s been airdropped, combining them into one perfect Instagram post. The first is the sultry mock-up, the most poised and polished version of herself showing off the billboard. Then the video reveal, her standing shock-still and staring up at the screen

           The last is her favorite.

           She and Crystal are standing side-by-side, backs to the camera. Crystal’s pointing up at the screen with one hand while Gigi clings to her other arm. She’s wearing the insufferable cotton candy jacket, scarlet hair cascading in waves down the back. Her head is on Crystal’s shoulder. This is the picture she wants to memorialize the moment with; the two of them, as it should be. She can hear the pride in her best friend’s voice, feel the nervous fluttering in her heart from seeing the reality of all of her hard work paying off in full. It’s every last trip away from home coming full circle, every time she’d wanted to quit or wondered why she even agreed to start in the first place telling her she was right not to give up. It’s the ability to share this moment with the person who’d been on the other end of every late night phone call, every bout of homesickness, every joke that’d pulled her through.

           It’s the sound of I’m so proud of you captured in one picture.    

           She can feel Crystal’s smile against her as she types and deletes captions, lowering her head so that her cheek can rest on her soft curls.

           “You’re incredible,” Crystal murmurs. She’s looking at her own phone now, where Gigi’s post has just gone live. The video plays on as they watch the moment Jan rips the blindfold-the disbelief, the hugging, the joy. Gigi tucks her own phone away and shifts down in the bed, cheek to cheek with her best friend. They shuffle around until they’re a tangle of limbs and sappy smiles. Jackie’s head is on her back and she’s flopped over onto Crystal’s chest, arms wrapped around her with a sleepy refusal to let go.

           The four finally fall asleep while they drift away from conversations about the future; Gigi’s next trip is only a few weeks away, Jan has a twenty-four hour festival to ready herself for, Jackie’s taking on a thesis, and Crystal’s submitting art for a possible gallery slot. In a contented pile of limbs far too big for her bed and surrounded by love, Gigi sleeps the best she has in a long, long time.

#I don’t need to tell you how much I love baby model Gigi #also i want to go back to NY so badly right now #also Jan is a self-insert half the time I highly identify with her #I’m somewhere within a Jan-Olivia Luxx mix with Gigi mixed in #screw the gender spectrum we should be identifying ourselves by which drag personas we fit ourselves into #it’s like getting your dog’s DNA tested like it’s not a corgi-golden mix it’s a Trixie-Sasha-Violet mix #Ask me again in an hour and mine will probably change a lil bit but anyway I’m Jan

[zablife]

Hi lovely lady..

Can you PLEASE do a HEADCANON: Jack meets OC(Evie) who is a singer, one night at one of the clubs he likes to occupy. Love at first sight for both of them. But OC is really stubborn to give in to Jack, cause she knows who and what he his. But actually doesn't care that his a gangster only refuse to not give in to her desire and feelings for Jack because of her friends who is secretly jealous that Jack likes OC instead of them. So they discourage her from being with him. This goes on for about a month with Jack showing up at the club constantly and continuesly persuading OC and her being stubborn. Until one night OC can't take the sexual frastration anymore and she shows up at his place in the middle of the night. She kiss Jack the moment he opens his door and smut happens. And they later on get married. Ps.. I kinda like the fact of a women being stubborn to be with Jack and not just instantly give into her desire. Some sexual frastration is good(leads to one Hell of a smut session😈🍑🍆💦)

Also once your request are open can you use this to turn into a one-shot or 3part storie with lost of smuttyness. Thanks love. 😊

Hi, darl!! First, I have to say I love your beautiful imagination so much. Are you a writer as well? If not, you should be!! I have imagined our lovely OC as Josephine Baker for these head canons because she was just the ultimate babe in her day! (Evie's last name is inspired by her and her friend is named Josephine as well!) Please find my head canons for your amazing fic below the cut.

Jack x OC (Evie)

*Evie Baker was one of the highest paid singers at the Eden Club. She hadn’t been in town long, but her reputation of being an irresistible temptress proceeded her, influencing Darby Sabini to ask her personally to perform.

*Although plenty of men propositioned her, she never entertained their promises of a better life outside the club. Here she could be her own woman, earning enough money to live comfortably without having to answer to a man.

*One night after her last number, she sauntered to the bar for a drink and met a handsome foreigner named Jack Nelson. He was brash and bold in a charming way that Englishmen weren’t. He asked her on a date that night, but she turned him down saying she was tired.

*She noticed his face in the crowd the next night, a sure sign of infatuation. Exiting the stage door quickly, she left without seeing him. This pattern continued for a couple of weeks and another dancer, Josephine, took a liking to him. 

*Evie had dismissed the idea of the handsome gentleman, especially after Josephine admitted her infatuation. Evie was glad that her friend had found a man who liked her and might take care of her. Their goals in life seemed to be very different. While Josephine wanted to find a husband and settle down, Evie did not.

*When the lights came up on another routine, Evie gazed into the crowd as she always did to choose a man whose lap she would occupy. As she scanned the room, she noticed Jack eyeing her like a man who had been starved. 

*Out of instinct, she approached him and she knew instantly he had not forgotten about her. She flirted as little as possible knowing her friend was serious about this man.

*Later that evening she noticed he had gone, so she went back to her routine of having a whiskey at the bar to unwind. Little did she know, Jack had been waiting for her, tipped off by a busboy he had paid handsomely for the information of her whereabouts. 

*”Listen, doll, I just wanted to see you again. Don’t be angry,” Jack said noticing your crossed arms and tight lips. 

“You’re dating my friend, Mr. Nelson, so why are you here?” Evie asked.

“Because I’m not interested in her. It’s you I keep thinking about,” he confessed.

“Whatever you think I am, I will let you down,” Evie said quietly looking down into her drink.

“No, I don’t think so. You’re somethin' real special, doll. You're what I’ve been looking for my whole life,” he said laying his heart bare.

*Despite his admission, Evie still played hard to get. She wanted to test his feelings so she went home alone that night even though she wanted him badly. 

*After a month of playing cat and mouse with Mr. Nelson, Evie couldn’t stand the tension any longer. She had to see him again. Josephine had noticed how distracted her friend seemed and confronted her. “That bloke Jack seems to fancy you now, you know. He’s a bad man, Evie. You should stay away from ‘im.”

*Even though Evie was well aware by now that Jack was a gangster of the worst sort, she still felt drawn to him. The way he was with her was so gentle and kind. She knew he would treat her right. She still held to her desire for independence, however, and struggled to reconcile her emotions. 

*After a long night at the club she couldn’t stop thinking of Jack. He had gone long ago, along with all the other patrons and most of the dancers. She made a split second decision to visit him, knowing the busboy had his address.

*Showing up at his rented flat in the middle of the night, she failed to contain her nervous excitement. She nearly walked away before gathering the courage to knock three times.

*As soon as Jack opened the door, her desire overtook her and she pushed into him for a sensual kiss.

*Jack was more than willing to reciprocate, amazed that his luck with her had finally changed. He led her to his bedroom and they made love all night.

*By morning, it was clear they were meant for each other and discussed what their future plans might hold. Jack offered to take her back to America with him and she agreed without a second thought. The sparks between them had only intensified into a roaring bonfire and she had to explore where this relationship would go.

*Evie had never been one to shy away from an adventure so she packed her bags and gave her notice at the club that day. Her gamble paid off when Jack proposed six months later and she was finally able to enjoy the love and attention of a man who worshipped her for all the right reasons. 

#ask box #Jack Nelson #Jack Nelson x OC #Jack Nelson head canons

[sxmmander]

These Violent Acts CH 05 - House of the Dragon fic

THESE VIOLENT ACTS CHAPTER 05 |  A DAMNING LETTER

Previous    Next

They would bow. She would make them bow.

Within the span of six months, Naenya had only visited the North and the Vale. Each visit went with relative ease, the North being the same as it always had been, true and loyal, and the Vale had been easily charmed due to her linkage to the House by her late mother. While in the Vale, she had even visited Runestone, where Lady Rhea had welcomed her. Despite her uncle and Lady Rhea's less-than-amicable relationship, Rhea Royce had welcomed Naenya into her home with open arms.

She was unsure whether her journey was to get more difficult once she arrived at House Tully or afterwards.

She had only been with the Tullys for a week when she got her answer. Although it wasn't what she had expected.

An unopened letter was clutched in the hands of her sworn kingsguard, Ser Loren. The emblem of the mighty house of the dragon was crested into the letter, making her heart flutter with thoughts of home. Rhaenyra and Viserys had sent many letters to her since she had first arrived in the North, with letters waiting for her in the Vale before she had even arrived, so she thought she knew what would be contained in this letter.

She had been wrong.

Tearing it open, her excited smile escaped her as her eyes quickly scanned over the words. The handwriting wasn't her father's, nor was it Rhaenyra's. No, the handwriting of this specific letter belonged to that of the Hand. Ser Otto Hightower had written this letter.

"My father has a new wife," Naenya told Ser Loren, staring at the letter in dismay.

Viserys Targaryen was still the King. He would be expected to find a new wife again. Naenya knew he had done his best to put it off, the girl assuming the court had been bombarding him with pressure as soon as her mother's body was burnt, and she had appreciated his actions in that way. It wasn't his decision to marry again that had caught her so off guard. It was who he had decided to marry.

"Isn't Alicent Hightower my sister's best friend," Naenya asked Ser Loren, beginning to pace around the room as she reread the letter.

Naenya was no fool. She had seen the ways Rhaenyra had stared at Lady Alicent. The way her sister's eyes would light up when the girl entered the room and the way she would stop listening as soon as she left. She also saw the way Lady Alicent stared back at Rhaenyra. While those kinds of feelings were frowned upon for women, Naenya wasn't one to judge her own sister. Rhaenyra was a good soul and deserved whatever happiness pleased her.

Naenya didn't view women the same way as her sister, though.

"Yes, I believe she is. Why?" Ser Loren peered down at the letter that Naenya had thrust in his face, his eyebrows raising, "well that is certainly interesting,"

Naenya's head dropped into her hand as Ser Loren took the letter from her to inspect. The Red Keep had gone wild without her there.

"This is a jester's golden pot," Naenya shook her head. Ser Loren had become one of the only people she could gossip with during the journey, "Can you imagine the havoc?"

"And what if she had a son," Ser Loren said, having come to enjoy their daily gossip sessions, "As a Redwyne from the Reach, I can say with certainty the Hightowers are ambitious. Especially Ser Otto Hightower,"

Naenya nodded. Ser Loren had once been a bastard of the Redwyne family, allowing him to go more unnoticed within the Houses. He always had many stories of the things he had overheard while sneaking around the Arbor before he had been legitimised. Ser Loren had only been legitimised, in fact, due to his keen battle prowess and strong mind for defensive warfare.

"Father couldn't take away my title," Naenya said, though her eyes held conflict, "Not after all this work I've been doing,"

"It certainly would piss off many of the Lords who have come to enjoy your company," Ser Loren acknowledged, his hand on his chin, "Though some Lords will always prefer a male heir,"

"I'll need to make sure I give a perfect impression to those lords," Naenya nodded, her mind taking note of certain houses like the Baratheons and Lannisters, "but father wouldn't just bow to the whims of some male Lords, would he?"

"If it kept the peace? I'm unsure," Naenya sighed, taking a seat on a nearby chair. She knew her father would have to get married eventually. She had just hoped he would pick a less complicated spouse. Perhaps a Tully woman that was around his age. She glanced around at the many fish symbols in her room, and the Tullys were certainly a housebound by family values above all. Naenya would have no problem with a stepmother that was strongly family orientated and could no longer have children, or at least no males.

"Who are we to visit next, Ser Loren?" Naenya asked, trying to distract herself.

"House Tyrell, princess,"

Naenya let out a loud groan, rubbing her eyes.

"Then there is only the Casterly Rock and the Stormlands to go," Ser Loren added, "and then the ball at Dragonstone,"

"Seven Hells, why couldn't I have ended with the Starks or Arryns?" Naenya grumbled.

"Because if we started with the difficult houses, you might've tried to go home," Ser Loren grinned, causing Naenya to roll her eyes.

A soft rap on the door caught the attention of the two friends, Ser Loren coming to attention with his hands resting on his sword.

"Come in," Naenya spoke, reaching for a goblet of water.

Lady Jeyne Tully, a daughter of Lord Grover Tully, entered the room. She was the same age as Naenya, but because she'd bled much earlier than Naenya, she already had a husband and was recently sporting a small baby bump.

"Apologises, princess," Jeyne curtsied, "Am I interrupting?"

Naenya sat up straight. Her cheeks tinged with red as she used her hand to comb through her hair. She had met Jeyne Tully upon her arrival at Riverrun and had been mystified by the girl since. Jeyne held herself in a way she hadn't seen too frequently in the Red Keep. Jeyne also held a certain confidence and lack of fear for the male lords around her. Jeyne had taken Naenya through their garden, informing Naenya of everyone within Riverrun, their positions, and how they felt about Naenya as heir. Jeyne seemed to know everything.

"Of course not," Naenya smiled, placing her cup down as she tried to figure out what to do with her hands, "Ser Loren, you can guard the door. Thank you,"

Loren stared at her in bemusement but eventually bowed and took his leave. Leaving the two girls by themselves.

"It will be my brother's birthday soon. He'll be turning six," Jeyne said, "Father wishes to do a large birthday celebration. He was hoping you'd still be here to celebrate,"

Lord Grover only had one son, a boy full of energy and excitement, and everyone in the castle seemed entirely besotted by the young lad. She had met Henry Tully as she entered Riverrun, being one of the many lined up to greet her. For her entire stay, he had remained an incredibly joyful little boy.

"Of course, I can help with the preparations as well,"

"Oh, we wouldn't expect that of you," Jeyne protested, her hand resting on her stomach, "We would be perfectly pleased with you simply attending,"

"No, let me help. It's the most I can do for you all hosting me so graciously," Naenya insisted, smiling at the idea, "I can help with the decorations and the games Henry might like to play. When we celebrated my younger sister's birthday, I helped with all the games,"

Jeyne let out a little laugh, shaking her head, "Oh, I can imagine the games. Chase a dragon around and pull its tail?"

"More or less," Naenya joked, her heart fluttering as Jeyne let out another laugh.

"Well, if I can't dissuade you, then yes, that would be greatly appreciated," Jeyne said, curtsying again as she turned for the door, "You can accompany me to the kitchens tomorrow to make sure the list of foods is adequate,"

Naenya nodded eagerly, watching Jeyne exit her room. Perhaps she understood Rhaenyra's desires a bit better than she thought she had.

#house of the dragon #house targaryen #hotd #hotd aegon #hotd helaena #house of the dragon lucerys #hotd aemond #aemond #daemon #daemon targeryan #princess rhaenyra #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon #house of the dragon jace #alicent hightower

[aquietwritingcorner]

Royai Week 2022 Day 5: Reunion       Word Count: 1135   Author: aquietwritingcorner/realitybreakgirl Rating: T   Characters: Roy Mustang, Riza Hawkeye   Warning:     Summary: Even meeting up in the tunnels beneath Central just before putting a plan for a coup into action is a reunion.   Notes:  Please note that for the canon scene, I used the manga and not the anime, mostly because I could lay my hands on the scene in the manga faster than I could look it up in the anime. I also altered a word here and there for better flow. AO3 || ff.net

_____________________________________

Reunion

The door opened, and all heads snapped up to look at it. Or at least, that was how Roy imagined it must have happened, because in the split second before he was recognized and they relaxed, his men were focused and ready. Breda, with his steadfast gaze and calculating mind clearly already running possibilities. Fuery, a newfound determination and readiness clear in his stance. Hayate, ever alert, but clearly already positive as to who it was. Riza, her eyes sharp, focused, and positioned to where in an instant a gun could be in her hand and firing.

His eyes lingered on her a little bit longer.

They relaxed the instant they recognized him, smiles on all of their faces. Roy supposed that they were as relieved as he was to be back together again, even if they were all about to risk their lives in a last gambit. It had been too long and too hard without each other.

“You’re late, Colonel,” Breda said, clearly poking a little fun at him. Roy couldn’t help but notice the amused upturning of Riza’s lips. “We were going to leave without you, sir.”

Roy couldn’t help but grin back. “It’s strange how your verbal abuse sounds so comforting right now!”

Tense though it was, the atmosphere in the room seemed to ease a little at this banter. Roy stepped further in, making sure that the door was closed behind him. He glanced around the room and stepped a little closer to Riza. She looked a little more haggard than the last time he had seen her, reminding him more and more of how she had looked living under her father. Roy blamed Selim and his near-constant surveillance for it. Living like that was clearly taking its toll on her.

“You weren’t followed, were you?” he asked, knowing that Riza would know exactly what he was asking about. He wasn’t sure if she had told the others about Selim yet, but he wasn’t going to take the risk of calling the homunculi out now.

Riza’s smile eased his worries. “He would let us know if we were being followed,” she said, indicating Hayate.

Mentally, Roy thanked every being he could think of for Hayate. The little dog had been able to comfort Riza when he couldn’t. And, it seemed, Riza had figured out how to use the dog as a warning system for Selim.

Instead of saying any of that, though, Roy bend to look at the dog a bit closer. “The pooch is pulling his weight, I see.”

“I almost think we should give him a rank,” Fuery said with a sheepish grin.

An idea sparked in Roy’s head at that, and his grin turned a bit sly. “All right then! How about we make him a second lieutenant?” He glanced at Riza, who was trying to suppress a smile. Roy was glad to see the mirth dancing in her eyes.

Fuery gasped. “But that’s a higher rank than me!”

Roy grinned at Fuery’s reaction, but he let it fade as he stood back up, looking over at Riza. “What’s the Bradley family up to?” he asked, knowing that they had to get down to business.

“I’ve learned what their schedule is for the next three days,” Riza said, falling back into business, stepping a bit closer to him as she talked. “The Fuhrer has gone to the East area to observe the training session. Selim went with him.”

Selim being gone was good. That was one complication they wouldn’t have to worry about yet. But it appeared as if they hadn’t heard the news.

“Well, that’s the thing,” Roy said, glancing at Riza and then at the other two men. “Apparently the train that the Fuhrer was riding on fell to the bottom of a canyon.”

Roy could see the shock on their faces and was not the least bit surprised when Breda was the first to say something.

“That’s unbelievable!” The red head said. His shock, though, was short lived, quickly giving way to the logistics of the situation. “I bet it was old man Grumman who planned it.”

“What a bold move,” Fuery said.

Roy glanced at Riza, knowing what she was thinking, what both of them were thinking.

“The Fuhrer and Selim are both missing,” Roy said, voicing their thoughts. “Is this a golden opportunity? Or is it a trap?”

And if it was a trap, a trap by who? Their enemies? Grumman? General Armstrong? The last two were on their side, but Roy wouldn’t put it past them to try to use the situation to their advantage, even if it meant putting him in a trap.

He could see Riza thinking the same thing.

“Even if it is a trap, we have no choice but to move forward,” Breda said.

“I agree,” Fuery said.

Roy nodded, looking at Riza again. She subtly shifted towards him again, giving her silent agreement.

“If you want to escape, now’s the time,” Roy said, feeling as if he owed them one last chance.

They almost didn’t let him finish speaking.

“Too late for that, sir,” they all said.

Riza straightened up a bit, stepping more in line with Breda and Fuery, clearly taking lead of the other two, and looked Roy straight in the eyes. “Your orders?”

For a moment, Roy stared at her, stared at all of them.

He was about to commit them to a path that there was no return from. This was everything, for all of them. His eyes met Riza’s. They were full of resolve, promise, and determination. Roy straightened up slightly in response.

“We have a one-way ticket to the battlefield. If we fail, we can never come back. Which is why there is only one order I can give to you all—Don’t Die! That is all!”

There was a snapping of heels, sharp salutes, and then firm voices.

“Aye, aye, sir!”

Roy stared at them for a moment more, then gave a singular nod of his head. “Then let’s move out.

The salutes were dropped, and they quickly moved about, preparing themselves for the coming battle. Roy changed into his uniform. Everyone checked their ammo again. Riza went over the Bradley family plans with them all one more time, and then, together, they headed out.

If Breda and Fuery noticed the way that Roy’s gaze and proximity to Riza tended to linger, neither of them said anything about it. Riza, as well, didn’t say anything either, just subtly stepped into it. As they walked along, the two of them glanced at each other. Perhaps it wasn’t the reunion that either of them would have wanted, or the reunion that anyone would have thought that they would want to have, but for them, at this moment, together, it was enough.

#royai week #royaiweek22 #Royai #riza hawkeye #Roy Mustang #fma #Fullmetal Alchemist #fma fanfic #fullmetal alchemist fan fiction

[yourthoughtsjim]

Desperate

Mack x reader, afab/femm

I don't know what possessed me to write this but here we are

Warnings: Mommy kink, use of "puppy", edging, use of "kitten", daddy kink

Mack comes home from his business trip and walks straight into the kitchen where he’s greeted with your smiling face. His whole mood shifts into one of calm. His tensed shoulders drop along with his jaw unclenching. 

He puts his hands around your waist and gives you a kiss on the top of your head before you turn around to give him a hug. Opening the fridge, you grab the milk for hot chocolate. 

After doing the last stir of your warm drink, you top it off with some whipped cream and cinnamon. 

Now, you go into Mack’s office where he was doing some finalization of the project he had been working on. You set down his mug before climbing in his lap to watch him work. He scootches closer to the desk so you don’t fall off.

You were so content with just watching him work. You missed him; he was gone for a couple of weeks. You two had video chat sessions but it wasn’t like feeling his warmth seep through your clothes. 

Mack takes the final sip of his drink before shutting his computer. He taps your back to alert you to him needing to get up. 

Walking out of the office, the two of you make it upstairs. It was pretty late, the both of you then changed into your pajamas and climbed under the covers.

You then feel his strong arms pull you close to him.

"I've missed you so much." He whispers in your ear. 

"I have too. It was so boring without you here." You respond. 

His hand starts to trail down your body, stopping at your pant line. 

"Not tonight, I'm a little tired." You say. 

"Please?"

"I had a long day." 

"Please, I haven't felt you in weeks, kitten. Please I'll be a good boy for you, I promise." He pleads. 

Hearing Mack beg, even a little bit, piqued your interest. You never heard him like this. 

"I suppose so, but… I'm on top tonight."

A wide smile crosses his face after you turn over and push him on his back. 

You then scootch out of your pants and underwear before taking his hardened cock out. 

You align his cock with your pussy as you sink yourself down on it. The stretch that you haven't felt in a while had shivers running down your back. Your toys helped some, sure but it never compared to how he made you feel. 

But you didn't move, you wanted to tease him a bit. "Call me Mommy, baby. Can you do that? Can you be a good boy and call me that?"

He whines out a "Yes."

Again, you didn't move. Mack caught on quickly at what you were doing. "Please move, Mommy. I need to feel you."

"Oh, puppy. Mommy just wants her pretty pussy warmed right now. Maybe if you're good, I'll let you make me feel good."

His eyes widened at the nickname you gave him. 

As you were sitting on his cock, you scrolled on your phone. Every once in a while you would look down and give him a smile. 

It had been a half hour before Mack finally broke. “Mommy… please. I need you. I need you to make me feel good.”

You lean over and intertwine your fingers with his, pinning his hands over his head before you start a gentle pace, earning some low whines from Mack.

“Thank you. Fuck.” He moans out.

You give him a kiss on the forehead. “There we go, puppy. So good, your cock feels so good.”

It was like his cock was made for you, with how it filled you perfectly. 

“Mommy’s making you feel so good, huh?” You tease.

“Puppy feels good. K-Keep going like that.” He whimpers out.

You smile. Having him like this, so desperate for you, lit a fire inside of you. 

You keep up the pace you had set. Mack’s little whimpers and whines were like music to your ears. You begin to think you like the way he sounds right now. Too blissed out to make a coherent sentence. 

“What was that, puppy? Mommy couldn’t hear you.” You tease his cute attempts at making a full sentence.

“I-I, fuck, I ne-need to c-cum.” He cries out.

“Already? I think you can hold it a little longer.” 

“I’ve, fuck, I’ve been good. Please Mommy please. Puppy’s been good!” He all but screams.

“Just a little longer, okay?”

You never lost your balance or rhythm. You kept cool, despite the fact you needed to cum yourself. 

Bounce after bounce was agony towards Mack. He wanted… no needed to cum. He’d held off touching himself the entirety of the time he was away. Even through all the texts and pictures you sent. 

“I think you’ve earned it. You can cum now.” You say in a whisper.

“Th-Thank you Mommy!” Mack exclaims.

You feel warmth spread through you. “Good boy… good boy…” You give him affirmations as you ride out his high before pulling off. 

“You didn’t cum, kitten.” He says in a breathy voice.

“Don’t worry about me, I just wanted you to feel good, and besides, you’ll make it up to me later.” You state pulling him into your embrace. 

“You’re right, it’s going to be Daddy’s turn next.” He says with a smirk.

#matpat #mack #iswm #in space with mack #in space with markiplier #nsft