Tumgik
#so i sort of saw them as young girls in love...
thesapphictimelady · 2 days
Text
Ad Astra Per Aspera Chapter 5
Word count: 1.8K
TW: Implied domestic and verbal abuse
A/N: This is not proofread at all and I am slightly drunk so please excuse any typos and formatting errors! I hope you all love it and please comment! Tell me what you like and dislike! I have no idea what’s gonna happen next so I’m also open to ideas! The next thing I write will not be a part of this series but I hope you all will love it just as much!
Tumblr media
“Is that-”
“Jenny.” Cassie whispered, “Yeah,”
“How did she-”
“I don’t know,” Cassie said, “I didn’t tell her where I moved to. I don’t know how she found me.”
Melissa gently embraced the shaking girl, “It’s okay. Listen, I’m gonna go to your apartment and grab you some clothes. And then…and then you can stay at my place until we sort this out.”
“Ms. Schemmenti I couldn’t impose-”
“You aren’t. It’s gonna be okay, Cassiopeia. We’ll sort this out.”
“I-I should call the cops-”
“No,” Melissa cut in, “Nothing good ever came from getting them involved. I’ll take care of it. I’m gonna have Barb take you to my house while I get your stuff,”
“No!” Cassie said, “I-I want to come with you.”
“Hon, are you sure? We don’t know if she’s still there or not.”
“Please?”
Melissa sighed, wiping a stray tear from the young woman’s cheek, “Okay. Okay, you can come. Let me go make our excuses with Ava.”
“Won’t we get in trouble for leaving early?”
“It’s a teacher workday. Things are more relaxed. Besides, Ava doesn’t care if we’re here or not. Get your stuff together and make a list of what you want to grab so we can be in and out quickly.”
Cassie nodded and the older woman left the room, her heeled boots clicking on the floor. She looked down at her phone and shuddered, quickly closing the photo and powering her phone off. Cassie stood and grabbed a piece of construction paper and a colored pencil from one of the shelves to start making a list of things to grab.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Barbara said, leaning on the doorframe, “Is everything okay? Melissa looked a bit ruffled when she passed my classroom.”
“Yeah, everything’s fine!” Cassie said quickly, “She just went to talk to Ava! She’ll be back.”
Barbara stepped into the room and lowered her voice, “Are you sure you’re okay? Your hands are shaking.”
“I-” Cassie paused and bit her lip, “It’s…it’s complicated. But Ms. Schemmenti is very kind and she’s helping me out.”
“Well, I’m glad Melissa is there for you. She seems to have developed a soft spot for you! If you ever need anything else, Gerald and I are happy to help.”
“I couldn’t possibly ask-”
“You aren’t asking, I’m offering. Really, Cassiopeia, you deserve love and kindness,” Barbara stepped forward and wrapped the younger woman into a hug.
Cassie froze and then the floodgates opened and she was sobbing into Barb’s shoulder.
“I’m just so scared, Mrs. Howard!” she sobbed.
“Oh, sweetheart, it’ll be okay! Melissa and I are going to take care of you!”
“Hey kid, you got your list…” Melissa trailed off as she entered the room and saw Cassiopeia wrapped in Barb’s arms, “What happened?”
“I hugged her and she just broke down. She says she’s scared.”
Melissa crossed the room quickly, picking up Cassie’s phone to make sure there wasn’t anything from Jenny. Once she was satisfied, she started gathering their things into her arms.
“Cassiopeia and I are leaving early. Something came up.”
“Melissa, is there something you want to tell me?” Barbara said, eyeing her over the top of Cassie’s head.
“I think it’s better you didn’t know,” Melissa said, gently coaxing Cassie out of Barbara’s embrace, “I don’t think you’d approve.”
“Melissa Schemmenti…” Barb started.
“Drop it Barb. Listen, I’ll call you tonight, okay? You can be mad at me all ya want but just trust me.”
Cassie sniffled and wiped her eyes, “Bye, Mrs. Howard.”
Barbara’s expression softened and she smiled sadly at her, “Bye, sweetheart. I’ll see you on Monday. And my offer still stands, okay? I’m a phone call away.”
Cassiopeia nodded and let Melissa guide her out of the classroom, down the hall, and out of the building.
“Do any of these cars belong to Jenny?” Melissa asked, pulling into a parking spot.
Cassie looked around and shook her head, “I don’t recognize any of them.”
“You got your list?”
Cassie held it up and Melissa grabbed it out of her hand and unbuckled, reaching behind her seat and pulling out a baseball bat.
“Stay here, I’ll go get everything.”
“Okay first, no, I’m coming with you. And second, WHY do you have a baseball bat in your car? And…please tell me that’s rust.”
“Yeah…rust. Let’s go with that,” Melissa said, making a mental note to wash her baseball bats later, “Are you sure you want to go inside?”
“Ms. Schemmenti, I haven’t unpacked anything. Even I don’t know where half of this stuff is. It’ll be easier if I come with.”
“Fine. Okay, but give me the keys. I’m going in first.”
Cassie dug her keys out of her bag and handed them over. Together, they walked up to the front door, which stood slightly ajar.
“Guess I don’t need these,” Melissa tossed the keys to Cassie, readied her bat and pushed the door the rest of the way open with her boot.
The apartment was quiet and dark. Melissa flicked the lights on and grimaced. All the glass in the apartment had been smashed and littered around and the words “Worthless Bitch” were carved into the wall and doused in red paint. Cassie pushed in front of her and grabbed a duffel bag, dumping the contents on the floor and walking around the room, careful to avoid the glass.
Melissa lowered her bat cautiously once she was sure no one was inside and went to the kitchen to grab the groceries she had left there. Her pizza dough sat untouched but she tossed it in the trash can just to be safe.
“She wouldn’t have poisoned that,” Cassie said softly, shoving a blanket into her duffel, “It’s not her style.”
“Not mine either,” Melissa muttered, going to help Cassie, “You don’t need a blanket kid. What, you think I’m gonna make ya sleep on the floor?”
Cassie blushed, “I-I didn’t know where I’d be sleeping,”
“I have a guest room. You just need clothes and toiletries. I’ve got everything else.”
Cassie paused and looked up at the redhead, “How long…”
“As long as you need to,” Melissa said, grabbing some random clothing items from a box, “I don’t care if it’s a day or a month. You’re not living here until Jenny is taken care of.”
“Taken care of? What is this, The Sopranos?” Cassie joked.
“Until she leaves town,” Melissa said, “Or until we find you a new apartment.”
“I can’t afford anything else…”
“Then I’ll help you. I’m gonna keep ya safe, kid. I’ll always catch you, remember?”
Cassie smiled softly and zipped her duffel bag, “Thank you, Ms. Schemmenti.”
“Cassiopeia, call me Melissa,”
“Thank you, Melissa.”
“You’re welcome. Now get back in the car. I’ll lock up.”
“Hey,” Melissa said, parking the car in her driveway, “Are you doing okay? I mean, your apartment…”
“Think I’ll get my security deposit back?” Cassie joked.
“Kid…”
“I’m okay, Melissa. It’s not the first time she’s done something like that. It’s better to just let her throw her tantrum. I’m less likely to get hurt that way.”
“Cassiopeia, this…you know this isn’t okay, right?”
Cassie shrugged, fiddling with the strap of her duffel bag, “It’s the way it’s always been,”
“That doesn’t make it okay though!���
“Can we please go inside? I-It’s been a long day.”
Melissa sighed and lead the younger woman up to the house.
“Melissa, this is…wow, your house is gorgeous!”
“It’s nothing really,” Melissa said, dropping her keys into a bowl and locking the door.
Cassie laughed, “I haven’t seen a plastic covered couch in years!”
“Yeah well, sometimes people spill and it’s easier to clean!” Melissa said defensively, taking the duffel bag out of Cassie’s hands, “Let me show you the guest room. It’s…it’s a little messy right now. I’ll change the sheets before you go to bed.”
The two women climbed the stairs, Cassie smiling at the family photos lining the walls. Melissa pushed open a door and set down the duffel bag.
“I’ll be right back,” she said, walking further down the hall to open a closet and retrieve fresh sheets.
Cassie set to work stripping the bed and then helped the older woman remake it, tucking the sheets in tightly.
“My room is right down the hall,” Melissa said, pulling her hair into a ponytail, “If you need anything tonight, and i mean anything, just come wake me up.”
“I’m not going to…”
“Kid, I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t mean it. Anything.” Cassie nodded, unzipping her duffel bag to retrieve something to sleep in. It was still light out, but the two women had hardly slept the night before.
“Bathroom is right next door,” Melissa said before closing the door so Cassie could change.
Once she had changed into a tank top and shorts, she took her bag of toiletries to the bathroom and set to work removing all of the makeup she had put on that morning. All the concealer on her neck was wiped clean and she winced slightly when she touched the bruises there.
Melissa knocked on the door softly, “Hon, I just wanted to let you know I’m heading to bed. I didn’t actually sleep at all last night. The doors are all locked and if you need ANYTHING, you come and wake me up.”
Cassiopeia opened the door and Melissa winced at the sight of the bruises on her neck.
“Thank you, Melissa. It means a lot that you’re letting me stay here.”
“Of course. If you get cold, there’s more blankets in the closet at the end of the hall. G’night.”
Melissa headed into her room, closing the door behind her and Cassie headed into the guest room, flipping off the lights and climbing into the bed.
An hour later, sleep was still not coming. She didn’t want to admit it, but after finding out that Jenny had found her, she was terrified. She tossed and turned, she practiced all of her breathing exercises, but the panic attack that had been brewing all evening was closing in on her.
Biting back a sob, she threw back the blankets and curled up on the cold wood floor, trying to ground herself. She knew she was safe, she knew Jenny didn’t know where she was now, yet her brain was still in overdrive.
Another hour of silent sobs passed and she finally decided enough was enough. She crept out of her room and down the hall to Melissa’s room. Slowly, she pushed the door open and tiptoed into the room.
The redhead was snoring softly and Cassie didn’t want to wake her. Instead she climbed into bed with her and laid her head on the pillows. They smelled like vanilla and the faint menthol scent that had lingered in Melissa’s car and…
Cassie frowned, feeling under the pillow and then snorted out a laugh.
“Do you really keep a baseball bat under your pillow?”
Melissa rolled over and hummed sleepily, “What you mean you don’t?”
86 notes · View notes
phoward89 · 2 days
Text
Tumblr media
Series Masterlist
Tumblr media
Chapter 3:
“You can't work here anymore, Y/N. You're fired.” You heard your boss, Doula Ada, tell you as soon as you said goodbye to Coryo (who was on morning patrol duty again) and entered the apothecary shop.
Your face fell. Fired?... “But why? I've been doing everything you've told me to.” You asked Doula Ada as she crushed up some herbs, to make a salve or remedy of some sort, with her mortar and pestle.
“With Belladonna's upcoming marriage to Juris, well, she needs to be working with me. I just don't have the room for two apprentices.”
“But I was the top of my class in the school and you said-” You began to protest, only for the older woman to shush you with a sharp-tongued, “I said I don't got no need for you anymore girl. Now go home or go find yourself a man to take care of ya.”
Taken aback by the herb woman’s brusque behavior, you quickly made your way to the door and exited the apothecary shop. Unknown to you, Coryo was waiting in the wind to swoop in and be your hero. To walk you home and be your shoulder to cry on.
Even though he's the reason you're fired and crying in the first place.
But to him that doesn't matter. It's just a small, minor detail that's not important. One that you'll never find out about, that's for sure.
Just as you were making your way down the cobblestone street, apothecary book tucked under you arm, a looming presence appeared by your side, towering over you. But by the long, lean shadow swallowing up yours, you knew it could only be Coryo. He is, after all, the tallest man you know.
“What's wrong, darling? Why're you leaving the apothecary shop after just arriving?” The platinum blonde peacekeeper asked.
Despite already knowing what was wrong, he wanted to seem like he was concerned about your plight. He was, after all, your man and a good man always takes time out of his busy schedule to check on his girl; to see what's wrong with her. He was just doing what any proper Capitol raised young gentleman would do, inquire about their special lady friend.
Looking up at your new friend, tears brimming your beautiful eyes, you told him, “Doula Ada fired me because she doesn't have room for both me and her daughter, Belladonna, to work at the shop.”
“Oh, my little dove, don't cry. It'll be alright.” Coryo assured you, as your tears began to fall, while pulling you into a hug.
And that embrace sure did make people stop and stare. The folks could understand a peacekeeper taking up with a merchant class girl while serving their 20 years in the district, but what they couldn't wrap their heads around was why a peacekeeper would lower themselves by getting involved with a Seam girl. People from the Seam were poor. So poor that they couldn't afford the second or in the word poor.
The Seam was considered the lowest of the low of District 12, the bottom of the barrel. So, a peacekeeper openly embracing a Seam girl and in the middle of the Merchant's Sector was considered taboo. A district blasphemy of sorts.
He kissed your forehead, causing the baker to nearly have a stroke from where she was peeking out of her shop window. And when he smiled wide and bright at you, the butcher nearly cut a finger off as he spied out his shop’s large front window.
“How ‘bout you help me with my patrol, darling? Walk with me for a bit, yeah?” Coryo suggested, craving a moment with you by his side. You're just so sweet, so kind, and he needs you- needs that around him. He wants to show you off to the entire district, let them see how he can cheer up his girl just by being by your side.
He truly was a bit off his rocker in love with you, but you had no clue about that. All you saw when you looked at him was the prettiest boy you've ever seen in your life, with a brilliant pearly white smile, who seems to go out of his way to befriend you. Something that you thought was sweet.
“I dunno, Coryo. I don't wanna get you in trouble.”
“You won't.” He quickly told you, wanting to chase away any fears you had of strolling around the Merchant Sector with him for a bit.
He really wanted to spend time with you, since he wouldn't be able to see you until he got a day off or his next weekend pass. Coriolanus felt that the more time he spent with you, the more in love the two of you would become. Yea…he was a bit of a clingy, stalkery, obsessive, possessive, delusional romantic. But at least he was a romantic, right?
Tumblr media
Coriolanus hasn't seen you in 3 days, 3 damn days, and it's driving him crazy. The last time he saw you, you walked with him for a little bit while he was on patrol and it was heaven. You two talked and laughed about nothing and everything. But the best thing about that stroll was everyone in the Merchant's Sector saw the two of you together.
Something that made Coriolanus' possessive and obsessive tendencies towards you soar happily. He was proud to show you off as his girl; his future wife. He couldn't wait to dote on you; take care of you.
Coriolanus was raised that proper Capitol gentlemen take care of their women, support them and love them. That a good Capitol man spoils his girl; doesn't let her lift a finger. That a gentleman will keep his woman in the lap of luxury; will do all the work so that she doesn't have too. That all she does is have to worry about looking pretty, attending social events, and pleasing her man.
Of course, there's women in the Capitol that choose to have careers, but more women are socialites and housewives. And that's what Coriolanus plans to mold you into. His loving, kind, housewife; his little socialite that he'll spoil til the day he dies.
Only problem is that he's a peacekeeper grunt. His pay’s acceptable for a comfortable life in the backwater district of 12, but it's nothing to write home about. He knew that to properly take care of you; support you, that he needed to rise in the Peacekeeper ranks. That he needed to become an officer.
So, that's why he signed up to take the upcoming officers aptitude test. Coriolanus wanted to better himself not just for his need to get back to the Capitol, but also for his need to take care of you. He needed to be successful and have a good paycheck to take care of you the way you deserved. He wanted to spoil you, buy you your heart’s desires, and the only way to do that was with money.
Coriolanus was excited to tell you about his upcoming officers exam. He was hoping that the news would impress you; assure you that he's worthy of supporting you.
Talk about impressions, Coriolanus was currently buttoning up the jacket of his dress uniform as he stood in front of the small communal mirror in the barracks. Sejanus, his bunkmate and, for a lack of a better word, friend, just stared at him like he'd just lost his marbles.
Opening up his footlocker and grabbing a few bucks, Sejanus looked at Coryo, and asked, “Why're you wearing that for, Coryo? We're about to go off base with weekend passes, shouldn't you be in your fatigues?”
Coriolanus walked over to his bunk, only to grab his hat and pick up a small sack. “I'm wearing my dress uniform, Sejanus, because I'm spending the weekend with my girl and I want to make a good first impression on her family.”
“Uh…I don't think Lucy Gray and the Covey care about that.” The District 2 born peacekeeper told his friend, watching as the man slung his sack over his shoulder.
“That songbird 's not my girl. My girl's a sweet little dove.” The platinum blonde remarked while placing his dress hat on his head, completing the dashing look his dress uniform gave off.
“Oh…but I thought you liked Lucy Gray?” Sejanus pried, holding his weekend pass in his hand while crossing the room with his friend.
“But I love Y/N; I'm going to make her my darling wife.”
Sejanus forced a smile, one that didn't quite reach his eyes, as he patted Coryo on the shoulder. “That's good, Coryo.” In fact, the broad man didn't think it was good at all. He thought it was a bit concerning that his friend had waved off any and all feelings he had for a girl he risked everything to save, only to take up with an entirely different girl- declare intentions of love and marriage too.
Maybe Capitol born and bred people were just wired differently than different folks. Who knows. But Sejanus did know that all of his efforts looking for Lucy Gray were for nothing. At least he made some rebel contacts, some friends that supported a cause he believes in.
Bringing down Panem and the Games; having unity, justice, fair treatment, and human decency for all no matter if they're District or Capitol.
“I'd be honored to be your best man, when the time comes.” Sejanus told Coriolanus as they exited the barracks.
Like hell Coriolanus was going to have Sejanus stand up next to him as his first man. He didn't plan on having a lowly wedding in the districts, but a grand affair in the Capitol. His delusional Grandma’am would have a stroke if he had Sejanus Plinth as his best man. He supposed he can ask Festus Creed to be his best man, or maybe not even have one at all. Nothing says that he has to have one.
Coriolanus knows that you most likely won't have a maid of honor, unless he charms Clemmie into doing it. Eh, he'll worry about that whenever he's back in the Capitol, planning the wedding with you. At least he knows that Tigris will be more than happy to design your wedding dress.
But now's not the time to worry about that. First, he needs to meet your family and pass that officer's test.
Tumblr media
The poor residents of the Seam were staring at Coriolanus with fearful and strange looks. It wasn't common to see a peacekeeper decked out in their dress uniform walking the streets of the Seam. No, the only time peacekeepers came to the Seam was to topple houses doing random checks to look for contraband and rebel literature, also to round up residents and cart them off to the prison on the base- never to be seen again until it was time to send them swinging on the hanging tree.
So…
Safe to say, residents of the Seam were both leery and mind blown at the sight of Coriolanus in their section, walking down the street as if he owned it. Both young and old alike silently prayed that the peacekeeper wouldn’t bother anyone.
If only they knew the real reason Coriolanus was in the Seam. Oh wait a minute, everybody in the Seam’s about to find out soon enough…
When Coriolanus reached your house, a large smile spread across his face. He couldn't wait to see you. He's gone too long without seeing your beautiful face, your kind smile.
Yea…
Three days is such an eternity…
Walking up the creaky wood rot porch and over to your front door, Coryo missed the neighbor girl, a songbird, exiting her house and seeing him. She saw his profile and instantly recognized him; was ready to call out to him, but stopped herself whenever you answered your door, causing the finely dressed peacekeeper to scoop you up into a hug and press a peck to your lips.
The little songbird shook her head, only to take off towards the meadow with her guitar in hand- she couldn't bear to watch the happy exchange between her neighbor and the Capitol boy turned peacekeeper- who she once thought was a good man.
Tumblr media
Ashlie was making dough for a simple fry bread (all that your family could afford to make with the sorry excuse of grain that you're able to acquire) and you had just pulled a wildberry pie out of the oven, setting it on the windowsill to cool, whenever a loud knock sounded at the front door.
“Y/N, go get the door!” Your brother called out from his armchair, where he was already a jar and a half in of moonshine during his only day off.
You quickly went to the door and opened it, only to smile as you saw Coryo standing in front of you. He was dressed up in his formal uniform, sack slung over his shoulder and hand full of flowers (a small bouquet made up of a couple roses and some wildflowers native to District 12). Before you could even say hi or invite him in, Coryo pecked you on the lips (stunning you a bit) and wrapped you in a tight, but warm hug.
Resting his chin on top of your head, he confessed, “I missed you, my sweet darling girl.”
“You missed me? But it's only been 3 days since we saw each other.” You told him, finding it a bit odd that your new friend misses you so much after such a short period of time. Was that normal, or was that a Capitol thing? Or was it because he wanted more?
But you didn't want to give your hopes up. You just met; became friends the other day. Besides, a boy like Coryo Snow- pretty with his chiseled jaw, platinum blonde hair, and crystal blue eyes- always fancied themselves sweet on girls like Lucy Grey or Belladonna (the exotic Covey beauty and a flaxen haired merchant girl). Boys like him never gave girls like you, girls from the Seam, a second glance.
“Yea, 3 days too long.” He retorted, burying his nose into your hair to breathe in your scent. A scent that seemed to smell like fresh blooms and vanilla. Reluctantly pulling away from you, he offered you the small bouquet. “If we were in the Capitol, I would've made you a bouquet from the roses my Grandma’am grows in her rooftop garden.”
“These are nice, tho, Coryo.” You assured him with a kind smile while taking the offered flowers.
Coryo fell even more in love with you, watching you take the bouquet (which he felt was a pathetic thing compared to what he'd be able to give you in the Capitol) with a smile. His heart swelled as he watched you smell the flowers, your nose lingering at the couple of roses he demanded the florist stick into the bunch of wildflowers.
Yes, you'd flourish and grow in the Capitol. With his love and tender care, he'll turn you into a prized rose. His darling rose that everyone will envy, but only he has. A rose that he'll love; who'll love him in return.
Coryo knows that, sooner rather than later, he's going to gift you his mother's shawl and her compact. As a way to show his love and commitment to you. But also to mold you into what he knows you're meant to be.
His perfect, sweet, kind, darling rose. His wife who'll comfort him and love him during good times and bad. The mother of his children who'll sing to them and nurture them.
“I'm glad that you like them, darling, but you do deserve better flowers and, once I pass my officers exam, I'll be able to afford them for you.”
“You're taking an officer's exam? When, Coryo?”
“Next week.” Coriolanus proudly said, his baby blues shining with joy.
Before you could say another word or invite Coryo in, your older brother, Rein, appeared behind you with his half-empty jar of moonshine in his hand. Tipping his jar towards your ‘friend’ he asked in a deep grumble, “This officer bothering you, sis?”
“No, Rein.” You shook your head. Looking between your older brother and the blonde peacekeeper, you announced, “This is Coryo, a new friend of mine.”
Your brother's Seam grey eyes grew into the size of saucers. He looked between you, the flowers you were holding, Coryo, and the sack slung over his shoulder.
Coryo, wanting to make a good impression with his future brother-in-law, stuck his hand out for a handshake and politely said, “Sir, I'm Private Coriolanus Snow, of the esteemed Capitol Snow family. I'm scheduled to take the officer's aptitude test next week and, I assure you, my intentions with your sister are nothing, but honorable.”
Of course his intentions are honorable, the man wants to marry you. Take you back to the Capitol with him and fill you up with his babies. Oh, and not exactly in that order either. But, nevertheless, Coriolanus wants to make you Mrs. Snow; one day First Lady Snow.
Your brother looked at Coryo's large, calloused, outstretched hand and then turned his eyes up to his face. Rein had a mask of indifference painted on his dark, stubble coated face as he pointed his mason jar at Coryo and gruffly said, “Fuck you.”, before pivoting on his heel and storming back to his chair- all the while shouting, “My stupid fucking sister’s taking up with that dead General Crassus Snow’s fuckbag son, Ashie!”
You heard something break in the house and your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach. Your sister-in-law (well, she was your brother's girlfriend, but same thing at this point since they've been together for so long) was so startled by your brother's outburst that she broke something the family can't afford to break. And your brother's reaction to your new friend was horrible.
The things he said…
Oh no, how embarrassing and cruel.
Frantically you apologized, afraid that Coryo would up and leave over your brother's nasty greeting, “Coryo, I'm so sorry for what Rein said. He shouldn't have said that, any of it.”
“Well, I admit, Y/N, that I was hoping to make a better impression on your brother, but I'm not going to let his little outburst chase me away from my darling girl.” Coriolanus told you, his attitude unwavering, as he placed his hands on your shoulders- gently rubbing them in a soothing manner.
Picking up on the phrase ‘my darling girl's, your brain suddenly put two and two together. Coryo wanted more than friendship, it seems. “Your girl, but I thought you just wanted to be friends?” You asked, just to make sure that your sudden revelation was right.
“I'm going to be a peacekeeper here for the next 20 years, Y/N. Of course, you're my girl. I don't want to be alone here, plus once I become an officer-” Coryo began to say, only for Ashlie to pop up and interrupt him with, “Um, can you two not discuss any future plans right now? Rein's upset enough as it is and, Y/N, I need you to help me with the dry bread.”
“Okay.” You sighed while at the same time Coriolanus said, “Like it or not, Ma’am, I'm not going anywhere. In fact, I'm staying here, in your home, with my darling rose for my weekend leave.”
“On the other hand, why don't you two talk a walk; go to the nearby meadow or something? Then you can meet up with me and Rein at the hob tonight.” Ashlie suggested, yanking the flowers out of your hand and ushering you out the door and slamming it shut behind you before either you or Coryo could say a word.
Well, looks like his plan to impress your family failed. But at least he impressed you, and really that's all the truly matters. As long as his lover's impressed then he couldn't give a flying fuck about the Halvir family. They could fuck off; go take a walk to the hanging tree for all he cared.
Coryo impressed you, made you smile with love and pride when you saw him in his uniform and, truly, that's the only thing that's important to him right now. That you view him as a hero.
Even tho in reality he's the anti-hero and your family knows it.
Tumblr media
Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @nowitsmissing @edb954 @astarborntowrite @diannnnsss @devils-blackrose @gentle-aesthetic-bby @elizabeth-nobennet @harvey-malfoy
103 notes · View notes
eggyrocks · 2 days
Note
whats da band lore how did they do dat
okay if i’m going to answer this question it’s gonna be LONG (also cannon does not apply here yall im making this shit UP)
noya and yn are childhood friends who kinda discovered punk music together at a very young age
like they were seven listening to agent orange together
yn liked how angry and passionate it is and noya liked how high energy and badass it is
yn’s favorite bands/biggest influences were skinned teen, gitogito hustler, and melt-banana
noya’s were sicilian blood, social distortion, and minor threat
yn was obsessed with learning guitar. she would take books out from the library and imagine she was playing on a fake one & would ‘practice’ and memorize as much of the technical terms as she could & this was how she learned to read sheet music
noya’s grandfather got him a guitar as gift one day and he let yn actually practice on it in exchange for teaching her what she knew
so they were self taught guitar players together 🥹
and they always knew they wanted to start a band but they were both guitar players and two guitar players does not a band make
yn was willing to learn bass too but even if she did they would still need a drummer
enter: tanaka
(influences: fugazi. that’s it. that man loves fugazi)
they met in middle school and the day they met tanaka it was like they were life long friends
like that bond was instant
and one day they were hanging out at noya’s house and tanaka saw his guitar was he was like “oh you play”
“yeah we both play guitar we wanna start a band but we can’t find anyone who can drum”
“oh i can drum. does that help?”
“???? yes???”
and so tanaka became the drummer and that’s when they started having practices
at first they were so bad
like
so so bad
yn tried to play bass but was not the best at it and yn and noya kept arguing over who did vocals bc neither one of them wanted to do it
until one day yn said “you know if you’re the frontman and the vocalist you’ll get the most attention from girls” and that did it for him
only problem was tanaka wanted to be a vocalist after that too
they mostly just played covers at first but noya was writing his own songs too
he’d mostly write lyrics and yn would mostly write music but most of the time neither were very good until tanaka came in and edited what they were working on
their sound was extremely sloppy and unrefined but by the time they entered high school their technical skills had improved a lot
except for yn’s bass playing. she hated it and practiced as little as she could
so one day during their first year of high school the band made a ton of posters asking bass players to come try out
enter: yachi
(now yachi did NOT like punk music. her influences were more like: the strokes, pixies, elliot smith)
yachi plays A LOT of instruments
clarinet? she’s a pro. cello? of course. girl can even play the harp.
she’s an extremely technically gifted bass player
post-high school yachi has really come into herself and gained a ton of confidence but high school yachi was still timid as hell
she saw the flyer and though it would be a lot of fun to put her skills to use in a creative way
but then she showed up to their after school practice spot, flyer in hand and shaking like a leaf
two scary looking dudes and perhaps even a scarier looking girl? yeah no. she’s out
but she couldn’t get away. yn was so excited at not just the prospect of having a bass player finally join them but also another girl? she dragged yachi back there lmao
and even though yachi was so visibly anxious that all sort of melted away when she started playing and she became the coolest most confident person alive
they were actually sort of blown away the first time they heard her play. like the band was like !!! you might be too good for us to tell you the truth
yn was on her hands and knees begging her to join
so she did! and was very happy to feel so wanted and included
and then with the addition of yachi that’s when they really started to get good
while noya and yn were self taught and though still pretty knowledgeable, yachi had a lot of technical knowledge that really helped them grow
and they started practicing more and more
like too much maybe
their grades suffered
but they really improved a lot and halfway through their second year, they played their first show
it was a disaster
so extremely chaotic
they had nothing set up right and they kept having to stop their set to fix shit and they got heckled and yn threatened to skin the person and from there they were politely asked to stop the set early
it was bad
they realized they needed more help
enter: kiyoko
(she doesn’t play any instruments but her favorite musicians/bands are mazzy star, fiona apple, and the cardigans)
they had met kiyoko before
they were all hanging out together when tanaka tried to talk to her and yn got so embarrassed to be seen with him she hit the back of his head and apologized on his behalf
kiyoko kinda got attached to yn from there; she didn’t have a lot of super close friends & she appreciated her consideration of her feelings
and they started to grow closer and yn, yachi, and kiyoko started to hang out a lot more
it was really good for all of them
yn didn’t have a lot of friends and she was really grateful to be with people who didn’t judge her for her more alternative persona
yachi kept getting more and more confident and felt like she was discovering herself
kiyoko was always very timid and was not the best at initiating conversations or being part of a group but she felt no pressure hanging out with yn and yachi and talking to them was so easy for her
so they got really close
so naturally after the disaster performance yn and yachi were complaining to kiyoko
who said without really thinking much of it “i can help you guys out”
so she did
it was super overwhelming at first because there’s a lot of things to keep track of and a lot of technical things to learn
but kiyoko really loved helping them out
and the more she learned the more she started to offer input or take initiative
tanaka and noya of course loved this
their natural instinct was to act like freaks around her but yn kept that in check
with a lot of threats
and occasionally following through on the threats
and kiyoko started to feel like a member of their band
and they always practiced with her and listened to her critiques and followed her advice
her input and guidance are extremely valuable and half of the reason they’re still a band
tanaka was so in love with her from the start and the more dedicated she became to the band the worse it got
he was so in love with her he didn’t even notice that she eventually started to show signs that she might feel the same way
it only took 6 months for them to start dating and the only person who was surprised was tanaka
it took a LONG time for them to record their first album
it was a mess
a lot of arguing
a lot of clashing opinions
but after writing and rewriting and recording and rerecording
they finally put together a full length album
12 songs, 39 minutes
it’s a little rough and sloppy but hey
that’s punk
and they were all really proud of it
they’ve since put out one ep with 6 shorter tracks
they’re working on their second one now but hey. albums are a lot of effort to make
but tanaka keeps saying it’s going to be the greatest album of all time (it won’t be)
and that’s the freaking band lore
if you made it to the end. you’re a real one
30 notes · View notes
animasola86 · 18 hours
Note
I had the idea of facesitting with professor sharp but reader (or mc idk what you prefer) is hesitant
Thank you for the ask! I went a little overboard with this (as I often do), and I apologize for whatever I made this fine gentleman do, but I hope you still enjoy! (If anyone would like to request me with anything as well, please go on ahead! My asks are open!)
Tumblr media
Fountain of Youth
Pairing: Aesop Sharp x f!mc
Genre: Fluff/Smut // Words: 4.2k // [READ ON AO3]
Synopsis: Aesop Sharp has tried everything to soothe the aches of his battered body, and nothing seems to work, but then he comes across a well of youth in the form of a young lover who is willing to feed him everything he's ever wanted, and more.
WARNINGS: NSFW! Explicit sexual content! Established student/teacher relationship. Size difference. Age gap. Oral sex. Facesitting. Fingering.
Tumblr media
Fountain of Youth
They say having a young lover is good for body and soul, and he couldn't agree more. When Aesop Sharp decided to throw caution to the wind and indulge in a rather unusual and certainly forbidden kind of affair, he knew he'd do anything to keep his girl entertained. Not that she ever demanded it, no, she was far from requesting anything, she was the most selfless person he had ever met, and most of the time she was doing everything to keep him happy.
And how happy he was when she would indulge him. It had taken him a while to accept her generous offers, but now he couldn't live without them, without her, be it bouncing on his lap, hidden between his thighs under his desk, or simply pressed against him in bed, deeply connected.
And he wanted to give back, but the state of his body often forbade any activity that was more than sliding his cock into her tight heat. It pained him, literally and mentally, that he couldn't indulge her the same way she did him.
She didn't mind, of course. And she never complained, not even when she left his office or bedroom with a limp because her body had struggled to accommodate the immense size difference between them. She was so tiny in his arms, to be fair he was a giant amongst humans, figuratively, and still she seemed to thrive on it, embrace it and him whenever she could, no matter how much pain he caused her.
Then again she must be some sort of masochist if she spent her time with him rather than with the other seventh-years. He was still a grumpy old man most of the time, even though he wasn't that old, but next to her he did feel his age sometimes.
And yet they connected somehow, not just physically. He felt drawn to her, felt his heart beat faster when he saw her, when she smiled at him. When she'd touch him, his skin would tingle and his sore muscles warmed in anticipation, whether her small hands would massage them or not.
She radiated warmth, inside and out, and while he was very fond of feeling her tight little sheath envelop him in a perfect fit, he also enjoyed holding her small body in his arms, pressed to his chest, breathing in her lovely scent. And it didn't stop there, a smile, a look, a stolen glance across the classroom, and he felt at least five years younger when a strange sensation of heat gathered in his guts.
And somehow, he wanted more, wanted all of her.
One day, she was sitting on a shelf in his hidden hobby room and watched him whittle. She said she loved seeing him work with his hands, and while he knew she also loved having the same hands all over her body and his fingers knuckles deep in her cute little cunt, he also appreciated it when she observed him while he engaged in one of his other hobbies, apart from indulging her. He spent most of his free time sketching landscapes (or more recently her) or doing a little woodwork to keep his hands nimble (for her).
A little sigh escaped her, and he looked up at her, perched on the high ledge of the sturdy shelf, right next to one of those wooden dolls he sometimes made to gift (or scare) his colleagues. At least Abraham seemed to like them, while Mirabel seemed utterly scared by them. And his young lover certainly enjoyed their company too. He'd often catch her re-arranging them behind his back, telling him they must have moved on their own, and to be fair, sometimes he did think they had a mind of their own.
“Everything alright, sweetheart?” he asked and put the tools down, patiently smiling up at her.
“Yes, everything's fine,” she said quietly as she shifted on the shelf, her feet dangling off. He noticed that her skirt had ridden up slightly and her blouse was halfway unbuttoned, and by the way she pressed her thighs together, he knew everything was definitely not fine. A knowing smile grazed his lips.
He stood up with a groan, straightened the old bones, and walked closer to her. At his height, his eye level was right between her legs, and he didn't hesitate to push them apart to stand closer to her. Inhaling deeply to take in her scent, and oh the sweet scent she was emanating, he quickly found the cause of it too: she wasn't wearing any underwear. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and watched him, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. Her hands found his head, fingers caressing his hairline and scalp, and he tilted it to look up at her.
“Tell me what you need,” he whispered gravelly, wiping sawdust from his hands before he hooked his arms around her legs to caress her soft thighs.
She licked her lips, a shy blush blooming on her cheeks. “I...”
“Use your words, darling.”
His deep voice caused her to shiver, and he felt the goosebumps as they rippled over her bare skin. While she still struggled to tell him what she needed (even though he already knew it quite well, but he liked to tease her a little every now and then), he leaned his cheek against the inside of her thigh, his beard rubbing against her flesh, and she keened softly.
He eyed her closely, patiently. When she finally spoke, her words made him shiver for a change.
“I want you to taste me,” she whispered, holding his gaze, and he saw that her pupils were blown with lust.
Giving her a warm smile, he turned his head and pressed his lips to her inner thigh. Then once more, and again, kiss after kiss until he reached her heat, and how warm she was. Warm and wet. His good little girl. He kept his hands on her legs, holding them open while he leaned closer, his eyes still on her flushed face as he took a deep breath, the scent of her arousal filling his nostrils. She shuddered visibly, biting her lip in a way that was both cute and sensual, which she knew drove him crazy.
Breathing a little rougher against her sensitive skin, he planted soft kisses along her lower stomach, moved back to her thighs, teased her by slowly inching closer to her folds. He took his sweet time, leaving a trail of fire along her soft flesh, and while she was squirming slightly on the shelf, growing impatient, he smirked to himself before he put his mouth to the hidden little bundle of nerves – and she gasped and jerked her hips against him.
He held her in a tight grip while he flicked his tongue up and down her nub, feeling it throb against him, while her wetness gathered between her folds. She had her hands on her mouth to muffle her noises, and he only needed to throw her a dark glance, tsking into her heat, and she lowered them, face fully flushed, lips quivering.
Leaning back only a little, he rasped: “I want to hear you, sweetheart.”
She nodded obediently, grabbing the edges of the shelf instead to steady herself. Her arms were shaking. Smiling at her, he focused back on her pretty little pussy. Kissing her mound, he returned to her clit, gently licking it, nibbling on it, and when he pulled it between his lips, she squeaked and squirmed in his hold, her thighs twitching against him.
More mewls escaped her when he started lapping along her lower lips, gathering her wetness on his tongue, tasting her, and he closed his eyes when he took it all in, her scent, her warmth, that sweet, sweet taste. He seldom indulged her like this, eating her out was not the best on his sore joints and muscles, his stiff leg always getting in the way of his enjoyment, but she sometimes found positions to make it easier for him.
He continued moving his tongue through her slit, parting those soft lips, nibbling on them, pulling them into his mouth, while she whimpered softly, her body twitching slightly. When he rubbed his stubbled chin against her soft skin, she gasped and let out a sweet little moan, and his eyes flew open as he watched her arch her head back, neck exposed, hair falling over her shoulders, eyes rolling back in delight.
She loved having his beard all over her, the sound alone, she said, could drive her right over the edge, and she would sometimes just move her fingers over his rough cheeks and mewl quietly while doing so. So he indulged her and scraped his chin along her inner thighs before pressing it to her clit and slowly shaking and nodding his head, feeling the convulsions before the moans left her pretty mouth.
He watched her closely, taking in every single reaction to his ministrations. She was close, he could tell, shivers and shudders and goosebumps rolling over her limbs, and instead of teasing her further, he returned his mouth to her clit, giving it a few hard sucks, and she unravelled right in front of him, shrieking softly when she came. He put his mouth to her folds and lapped at her wetness, gulping it down like a man parched, his tongue moving between her lips and dipping into her quivering cunt, her contractions clenching around the soft muscle as he pushed it deeper into her.
She moaned louder, the feeling of his stubble must be overwhelming for her as he pressed his face to her heat, his hands tightening around her legs as she started convulsing on the shelf. She came again, her noises echoing through the small room, filling his ears as much as her taste filled his mouth. He licked up her slick with long broad strokes, from her clenching hole to her throbbing clit, his own deep groans vibrating through her core, adding to the sensation he was sure.
Her hands gripped his hair then as she bucked her hips against his face, mewling and moaning, barely able to contain herself. He held her in his iron grip, fingers digging into her soft thighs, possibly leaving bruises at this point, but he kept going, addicted to her taste, to her juices, and she was very generous tonight.
Eventually he slowed his ministrations, gently kissing her puffy lips, giving her clit one last lick, before he leaned back, loosening his arms around her legs to bring one hand to her mound, softly rubbing it to calm her.
She was a quietly whimpering mess, her lips parted and quivering, her eyes hooded and exhausted as she finally came down from the highs he had given her. He grabbed her waist and lifted her off the shelf, gently cradling her in his arms as she leaned her head against his shoulder and smiled contently.
“Thank you,” she whispered hoarsely.
He smiled back and brought his wet lips to hers, and despite her spent state, she grabbed his face and returned the kiss in full, tasting herself in his mouth as her tongue slipped between his lips to meet his own. He carried her to the table and sat her down gently, still glued to her mouth, savouring her sweet taste, before he leaned back and sighed deeply. Pressing his lips to the top of her head, he hummed softly and whispered: “No, thank you.”
She watched him with her cheeks burning when he returned to his woodworking, feeling rejuvenated and ready to take on anything.
Like with any good, fulfilling beverage, he soon felt its effect dwindling, and after a couple of days, he was lying in bed, cuddled up to his young lover, and felt every sore muscle and strain and ache almost tenfold. He could barely move, and even though he never told her that he was in pain, she seemed to notice it nonetheless and tried her best to keep his body as relaxed as possible.
Right now, she had her small hand wrapped around his cock, stroking it expertly while she planted soft kisses on his broad chest, and he just lay on his back, not even able to raise a hand to return her touches. Clenching his jaw, he watched her, his eyes roaming her beautiful body, every curve and bump and hollow, taking it all in, how her breasts moved with every deep intake of air, how goosebumps rippled over her skin when he would hum or groan under the surprisingly strong grip of her hand.
He felt his stomach tighten when she moved her little mouth to nibble on the bulging veins on his shaft, her warm tongue lapping at his hot skin, cooling and warming it simultaneously. His breaths quickened, and he closed his eyes when he felt her lips closing around his tip, gently sucking on it, her tongue flicking against his slit.
Slowly he moved his hand up, his arm shaking slightly, and put it on her thigh, fingers closing around it almost fully. She leaned back and met his hooded gaze, licking her lips. Her eyes were warm and kind, a soft smile grazing that full, wet mouth. He tilted his chin up, giving her a little nod, and she crawled towards him and kissed his cheek, watching him closely, careful not to put any weight on him.
“Tell me what to do,” she whispered, her fingers rubbing along his stubbled jaw.
“I need to taste you again,” he said gruffly, his voice hoarse and strained.
She looked a little conflicted, wondering what to do. He wasn't capable of moving much, and she knew that. He was also about to ask something of her they had never done before, but he knew she wouldn't shy away from it, she was usually very open with trying anything new with him. She was a great student, and he had taught her well.
“Sit on my face,” he said bluntly and noticed how her eyes widened.
“Are you sure? Won't that hurt you?” she whispered, biting her lip.
“It'll be fine,” he rasped.
“H-how do you w-want me to... sit?” she asked quietly, her voice shaking.
He fought the strain in his arms and raised them to place his hands on her waist and guide her towards him. “Sit on my chest, then lean on your knees, facing the headboard. Grab it if you like, to keep your balance.”
She hesitated, but then slowly did as he told her, swinging her leg over him and positioned her knees on either side of his head, her expression still uncertain. Without him mentioning it, she kept her entire weight off him as she leaned on her knees, her beautiful cunt hovering right over his mouth. Her scent was intoxicating. His eyes roamed every inch of her sex, and by the way she squirmed, her legs trembling, he knew she was a little uncomfortable with him staring at her like that.
“You're beautiful,” he told her, his eyes moving up to meet hers. She leaned back slightly to be able to see him, a shy smile grazing her lips. His hands rested on the curve of her rear, gently pulling her closer, and she strained her thighs and followed the hint, gently pressing her folds to his face. A surprised mewl escaped her when his beard rubbed against her soft skin. He inhaled deeply, feeling her shuddering on top of him as he did so.
Pulling her even closer so he wouldn't have to strain his neck, he pressed his lips to her labia before his tongue darted out and licked along her slit. Her taste immediately filled his mouth, her little whimpers filled his ears, and when he closed his eyes, he lost himself in her completely. Lapping at the wetness gathering between her folds, he felt his body relaxing beneath her, his sore muscles warming, and he was able to really grip her plump arse cheeks, kneading them as he sucked and nibbled on her soft lips, pulling them between his teeth and into his mouth, coaxing all the sweet sounds out of her throat.
While he laved her wet skin, his nose kept brushing against her clit, and instinctively or not, she writhed against him, moving lower until he was able to give that sensitive bundle of nerves the same treatment as her folds. She moaned when he sucked on it, his tongue flicking against it, rolling it, and the more he abused her little nub, the more wetness seeped against his chin.
She was still only hovering above him, straining her thighs, her arms outstretched to hold onto the headboard to steady herself. Always so considerate of him. He adored her for it, but he needed her to really engage here, so he could really engage her.
“Sit down, sweetheart,” he hummed against her clit, licking it gently. She squirmed and moaned quietly, tensing on top of him.
“I don't want to hurt you,” she managed to croak out between breaths.
“You won't,” he assured her, his hand tightening around her bum to push her down on him. She still fought it, shuddering under the exertion. “Come on, darling, indulge me.”
She let out a shuddering breath, then slowly lowered herself. It wasn't that she weighed a lot, she barely weighed anything in his eyes, she was just a soft little creature made of sunshine and smiles after all, but when she finally sat down on his face, he felt it. Her lower lips parted around his mouth, and she shivered when his beard rubbed against her sensitive skin. He inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with her scent, feeling dizzy for a moment, a sensation that wasn't unpleasant at all, before he let his tongue dart out and lap at her soft skin, her wetness basically seeping into his mouth now.
His grunt against her sex made her squeak softly, and she seemed to really force herself not to move against him, still afraid she might hurt or suffocate him. But he had never felt better. He kissed and licked her inner folds, his tongue teasingly dipping into her clenching hole while his nose rubbed against her clit. Her mewls shuddered through her entire body, and he closed his eyes and pushed deeper, his tongue pressing past her entrance, licking at her soft walls.
She started twitching, her noises tumbling out of her uncontrollably, her wetness gathering on his tongue and his lips, and he barely managed to lap it all up before she gave him more. His fingers dug into her soft bum cheeks, teasing along the cleft between them, before he moved them back and hooked his arms around her thighs, holding her open as she started to clamp her legs together in anticipation of her approaching release.
Her arms fell from the headboard and rested next to his head, fingers clawing at the bedsheets, as her hips bucked against his face, and despite never having done this before, she was as usual a quick learner and despite her initial inhibitions not too shy to engage as well instead of letting him do all the work. While he lapped at her folds, sucking and nibbling, drinking up her juices, his groans mixing with muffled slurping and squelching sounds, she slowly gyrated her pelvis against his face, her moans so soft they soothed the aches in his body almost as much as her wetness running down his throat.
He felt light-headed, nearly delirious when her taste and scent took over everything else, and when her movements on top of him grew harder and faster, he let her ride it out, use his face to get her where she wanted to go, and all he could do was lap up her juices, his tongue alternating between stimulating her clit and dipping into her clenching cunt.
The moment stretched forever, and frankly, he could have lived in it for just as long, but then she gasped, spasmed, and cried out loudly as she forced her heat firmer against his mouth, really suffocating him now, before she arched her back and lifted herself only slightly, allowing him to breathe and get a perfect view of how she came undone right on top of him.
Her clit throbbed visibly, her glistening pussy fluttering, and before she could shower him in her juices, he had pressed her heat against his mouth, holding her closely as she convulsed against him, mewls and moans slipping from her, and he lapped and slurped up every single drop she gave him. She collapsed on top of him, spent and limp, her body heavy on his face, but he felt the effect immediately as her warmth filled his stomach.
Using his elbows to push himself up, he rolled her around, carefully placing her down before he grabbed her thighs and dove between them once more, the soreness of his body gone almost completely. He knew it wouldn't last long, but he wanted to make the best of it. She was sprawled on the bed, arms beside her head, legs twitching, chest heaving with her small breasts quivering, nipples perked up, while he lapped and nibbled at her folds, bent over her small frame.
Her taste was addictive, all-consuming, clouding his mind. He had no idea for how long he had licked her quivering cunt, but when a soft hand dug into his hair, he looked up, his dark eyes glazed over, and saw her watching him, her face flushed, her eyebrows slightly furrowed, her lips trembling. He leaned back reluctantly, but then he noticed how red and puffy her sensitive skin looked, and he could have kicked himself for not seeing it earlier. He had licked her raw.
Giving her mound a soft peck, he crawled up her body, caging her in on his hands and knees, while he looked down at her, licking his moist lips. Her small hands moved up and rubbed his cheeks, wiping her wetness from his face before she pulled him closer and kissed him softly. He shared her taste with her and breathed deeply into her mouth, slowly coming down from the high she had given him. She was dangerously intoxicating. She was his drug.
He rolled off her then, still kissing her softly, pulling her soft body against his while his hand moved along her sides until he dipped it between her thighs. Her skin was burning, radiating heat against his palm, and she winced when he touched her, but didn't fight it when he caressed her mound carefully, hoping his calloused fingers wouldn't make it worse. But her body adjusted by making her wet again, coating his fingers and her oversensitive skin.
She was a miracle.
Sighing contently, he released her mouth for a moment, looking deep into her eyes, almost getting lost in the softness of her gaze. His fingers dipped between her folds, teasing at her entrance, and she mewled quietly, her hands rubbing over his stubbled cheeks, and he could see how much the sound and his ministrations affected her as her eyes rolled back and her lips trembled and her body shuddered in nothing but bliss.
He swallowed her moans by claiming her mouth once more, pushing his tongue deep into it at the same time as he pushed two fingers into her warmth, the wet squelching sound like music in his ears. She bucked against him while he pumped his digits in and out of her, harder and faster and deeper, and when her walls clenched around him, she cried out against his lips, her thighs pressing around his hand as he stroked her through her orgasm.
It took him everything not to lean down again and lap at her juices, instead he let her wetness coat his fingers while he kissed her softly as she spasmed against him. When she relaxed in his hold, he continued to massage her soft flesh and watched her melting into the bed. Pulling his free arm around her, he held her close to his chest, her cheek pressed to his shoulder, her breaths deep and soft before she slipped into unconsciousness.
His fingers remained buried inside her heat, and he was tempted to continue his ministrations, maybe even indulge in something more, use her willing body for his own release, but he refrained, ignoring the throbbing of his cock. Kissing her sweaty forehead, he snuggled against her, holding her in his arm and her cunt with his hand as he soaked his fingers in her wetness. Inhaling deeply to take in as much of her scent as possible, he closed his eyes and leaned into the warmth that radiated from her tiny body.
He might have stiff fingers and a sore wrist tomorrow, but he didn't dare to disconnect from her, from her warmth and those delicious juices, from her well of youth. He felt it rushing through his veins, like liquid fire warming his sore muscles and the aches of his battered body.
It was truly addictive.
Tumblr media
End notes: Initially I was hesitant to write this, because I couldn't quite see Daddy Sharp here engaging in oral sex like that... but I guess, in the right positions, sure, why not! And I mean, the beard is an added bonus to that, so who wouldn't like that? XD
You know, I was never into the whole Daddy/little girl kink, I accepted it, I read smut with it, ofc, but I never felt anything but slight cringe for it... but this man, dude, why does it work so well with him? (I still refuse to let my protagonists call him Daddy though, nope, but the dynamic is growing on me!)
So, thank you for reading whatever this was! And thanks again for the request! It was really fun! (Give me more, please!)
MORE SHARP SMUT:
Scars
Peace and Comfort
A Demonstration of Power and Support
Tumblr media
[ MASTERLIST ] [ AO3 ]
23 notes · View notes
fragmentedblade · 4 months
Text
I haven't looked forwards to a character as much as I've looked forwards to Sunday. I hope he won't disappoint
#He seems potentially so my type and I love the angelic aesthetic#He seems so shady and I love that. Robin does too and I adore that too but I'm afraid of expecting too much haha#Hanabi and Black Swan are interesting in a lore kind of way but I don't like their design at all tbh#Kinda getting tired of the female characters having all the very same look. They are not even from the Xianzhou so there's no excuse#Hanabi is like a mix of Guinaifen and Tingyun come on. And I find the design of Black Swan so boring with the potential her lore had#Skirk kind of situation#Ruan Mei and Dr. Ratio have managed to interest me a lot for what I've seen in leaks#but I hadn't been waiting for them to appear as I've been looking forwards to Sunday#Other than Sunday the character I'm most looking forward to is Firefly. I don't know#I've been digging the dynamic with Blade ever since I first saw leaks about Sam‚even when I thought them seeking death and life respectively#was due to each their different ways of not being fully human with Blade being immortal due to a mistake and Sam being a robot#But now he's an immortal old man seeking death and she's a little dying girl with time against her looking for life‚#both in a way the consequence of an experiment‚ and I find that potential interesting too#Besides I find so endearing and so funny that terrifying imposing Stellaron Hunter Blade is in a group with two young girls#that bully him a bit‚ make fun of him and take his phone. Extremely into how Silver Wolf is protective of him too#In general his dynamic with the Stellaron Hunters is very nice and sweet and intriguing for what I've seen#Abfkabfn I always end up talking about Blade. What I meant is that! I'm really looking forwards to Sunday#He seems extremely Jack-coded in some ways. A bit like Jing Yuan but in some senses More and I love that sort of character#I talk too much
2 notes · View notes
quibbs126 · 2 years
Text
Actually, speaking of Claire, another thing that kind of bothered me is how 3 separate characters were in love with her
Like, okay, she was Hershel’s girlfriend. Aight. Oh, Don Paolo had a thing for her too and that’s why he hates Layton? I mean all right, I can see that for Don Paolo. But then you tell me Dimitri also was in love with Claire, and this starts to feel a bit weird. Like I’m not saying someone can’t have three people in love with them, just look at Lucy in Dracula; it’s just that we have three characters here motivated by their love for one lady, and I feel like that’s a bit too many
36 notes · View notes
scwheeler · 3 months
Text
— how to get a girl’s attention
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
luke castellan x fem!daughter of demeter!reader
warnings: near-drowning experience…
summary: as the daughter of demeter, you’re the first person that everyone turns to when injuries need to be tended too, questions need to be asked, and any type of advice is required, however what’s going to happen when you’re the one in need?
a/n: this one’s quite lengthy guys! i really just got derailed like ten times and love adding details and the ending is kind of basic but whatever; don’t mind me making up random camper names btw lol 👼👼
Tumblr media
waking up to the sound of constant bickering was just a normal tuesday morning as your younger half-siblings were already at each other’s throats about some stupid thing. yesterday it was borrowing boots and the day before it was who had to take the trash out.
you groaned, wishing that you could still sleep in peace and quiet but your cabin clearly suggested otherwise. so you gradually got up and put on your little slippers, approaching the main fighters who continued to argue with each other.
“hey hey hey, what’s going on now.” you had to physically get between the two children, separating them with your arms.
“he slipped paint all over my skirt and now it’s ruined!” the young girl cried, holding up her stained skirt to prove it. you took the clothing in your hands and knelt down to face her.
“why don’t i go to the river later today and try to get the stain out myself. it seems washable to me, what do you think?”
with a slight frown, she nodded her head to comply. you were relieved to say the least before turning to the boy, “how about you apologize and come with me to the river after breakfast?”
the boy stayed silent with his arms crossed, trying to avoid your insisting stare. but intimidated enough, he looked to the floor and whispered a small “fine, i’m sorry” with a glare.
you smiled as the situation was deescalated and told the rest of the kids surrounding the pair to hurry and make their beds in order to head to breakfast.
holding hands with the now puffy-faced girl, you tried to tell her about all the fun activities she could do today to forget about the unfortunate morning incident.
before reaching mess hall, the child already had a a bright smile just thinking about the bracelet making and embroidery you promised for the later evening. pleased with your peace-making skills, you sat with the rest of your campers and half-siblings that you were in charge of.
as the eldest sibling and one of the camp counselors, you took on the responsibility of looking after the young ones and caring for almost everyone at camp.
thus, when most of the camp half-blood children had troubles or dilemmas of any sort, they would disregard their own counselors and go straight to you. your kindhearted, yet sociable personality rooted from your mother: demeter.
you were often found laying around in the fruit fields or by the river listening to the water flow through the ground and hit the rocks. like your mother, nature was where you felt at peace, especially with the lack of quiet in your own cabin.
but you still loved your fellow campers and half-siblings, except for one boy who would not leave you alone.
luke castellan.
he liked to push your buttons and see how far he could take you until you’d explode. of course, you always kept your calm until either you just left the conversation or it would be interrupted by a camper in need who was like a knight in shining armor.
it wasn’t that you didn’t like the guy. you liked everyone at camp, including mr. d for gods sake! but something about luke was different. you occasionally saw him with his campers or his friends, he would joke around but never act like he does with you.
when you least expect it, he sneaks up behind you and gets close enough to whisper something in your ear. it could be just a random comment or sentence started but in an alluring voice as if you were friends or even more.
he knows what he’s doing. the moment he finishes, you flinch and get flustered, cheeks heating up and instantly standing up to avoid making eye contact. as you walk away, luke only watches and smiles to himself.
he knows how much power he holds over you, as with just a few words he can make you nervous.
“okay so once everyone’s done, we’ll first go to the archery range and you’ll stay there with counselor clarisse while damien and i go to the river to get that nasty stain out.�� you explained and first looked at the boy who begrudgingly agreed to helping you earlier and then winked at the little girl you promised to help.
“counselor clarisse…!” one of the boys exclaimed.
“oh no she’s the mean one!” “yeah, she’s a bully!” your campers all started to agree and mutter remarks about their fear in staying with clarisse.
you couldn’t help but chuckle at their scared little faces, “clarisse? oh gods no! clarisse is not scary, she loves you guys and she’ll take good care of you.”
the children stared at you in disbelief while chowing down their eggs and bacon. “why can’t we just come with you to the river?!” one of the girls begged and began to pout alongside the other ten kids beside her.
you sighed and pursed your lips into a thin line, trying to come up with a compromise but you couldn’t.
“please it’s only for a couple of hours and then i’ll be back for the rock wall and some capture the flag!” you persuaded, trying to lighten up the mood.
but the kids still looked dissatisfied, now poking their breakfast around with their utensils in objection.
“well—” before you could plead another case why clarisse is a perfectly reasonable and responsible counselor and guardian, you were cut off by the one and only.
“aw don’t worry guys, you should listen to your counselor. plus i’ll be there too so if counselor clarisse gets even just a little too scary, you can come and hang with awesome counselor luke!” a voice announced from behind you.
you nearly choked on your food, startled in the surprise voice cutting you off. but the campers were overjoyed to see their second favorite counselor appear. there were an overwhelming amount of comments from the once so silent children, mostly regarding “luke!” and “yay!”
you whipped your head around to face the boy, standing right behind you with nothing but a smug grin on his face. then he leaned in just as he always does and whispered a quick, “you’re welcome” and turned to leave just as fast as he came.
“can we please hang out with counselor luke instead of clarisse?!” all the campers plead with their hands put together and lower lip puckered. left with no other choice by that damn castellan again, you inhaled deeply and slightly nodded which was shortly followed by an array of cheers and excitement.
after dropping off all of the campers in the hands of luke, you put a hand on damien’s back and led him to the river. but before leaving, you had to make sure luke would actually clock in as a responsible counselor.
“so i can count on you to keep them safe for the next couple of hours?”
“wow you sound like you doubt me!” luke said and took a step back with his hands up in fake surrender.
“enough with the games, castellan. are you going to make sure they don’t kill each other and stay unharmed until i return?” you asked again, ignoring his previous comment.
luke tried to hold back his smile after you called him by his last name. most of the time, his sparring partners or other counselors would use his last name rather his first. however, when the way you let the ‘n’ slightly my drag after saying it sent chills throughout his entire body.
to hide his delight, he lightly scoffed and crossed his arms at your hesitation. “i assure you that i will protect them with my life. i mean i am the best swordsman at camp,” he added as the corners of his lips just couldn’t help themselves to lift a little.
you rolled your eyes at his self-confidence and how he kept complimenting himself. luke only did it to impress you though, something that hasn’t been very successful.
“okay well alissa has a nut allergy, georgie has a bee allergy, and please keep thomas and will away from the poison ivy. i do not want to spend another summer knee deep in tomato juice.”
luke could only watch and admire as you kept expressing your deep concern for all the kids. he loved how much you cared. but a few more seconds and you would be driving yourself crazy over all the possibilities of something going wrong.
that’s when luke stepped in and softly grabbed your right arm.
“hey, it’s fine. go do whatever you have to do and i’ll come running down to the river if anything goes wrong but i doubt it, i’m pretty responsible y’know.” he reassured and stared straight into your eyes, indicating his sincerity. his smile wasn’t conceited or to drive his ego but rather held a tender emotion.
you looked up into his hazel eyes and suddenly the worries stopped and your nerves were calmed, other than the ones beginning to stir in your stomach. but this was far from the regard about the kids.
this feeling was something else. something new.
“are we going to go already?” the young boy you almost forgot about, whined and rugged on your orange camp t-shirt.
snapping out of your trance and back to reality you answered, “o-oh yeah, i think counselor luke’s got it from here.”
with that you turned away from luke and immediately headed for the river alongside damien but the paint-stained skirt was farthest from your mind now. you tried to shake the new feelings and thoughts out of your body and replace them with your past ones of the kids.
until, “is that guy your boyfriend?”
you quickly looked down to the boy asking the question, with such seriousness in his eyes.
“counselor luke? gods no! i wouldn’t even call him a friend!” you answered swiftly, picking up your pace and hurrying damien in front of you.
“geez…i was just asking!”
as soon as you two got to the river, settling on a few rocks by the edge, you started rubbing the blue-stained skirt with the clear water. damien sat next to you, fiddling his thumbs and staring at the water’s constant movement.
“so are you going to tell me why you did this or not?” you began, keeping your eyes on the skirt.
“i just wanted to.”
“damien.” you urged and this time, you stared directly at him with your eyebrows raised.
he sighed in defeat and gave up on lying to you.
“okay…well i just didn’t know how else to get clara’s attention,” the boy admitted and refused to look at you.
his response warned your heart and prompted your to smile to yourself.
“so you did this, just to get clara’s attention?”
you held up the now drenched skirt and demanded damien to look at you. for a moment, he did and nodded quickly before instantly going back to staring at the rock he was sitting on.
you stifled your laughter at how adorable the young boy you were with was being.
“damien…there are a lot of different and more efficient ways to get clara’s attention. may a suggest one that doesn’t destroy her belongings and ends up with her being angry?” you insisted and squeezed the excess water out of the skirt.
he looked up and nodded again but this time he continued.
“what should i do?”
“why don’t you make her a bracelet when we go back and sincerely apologize.” you suggested while laying out the wet skirt on the rock to dry.
he smiled at your suggestion as you went to sit closer by him. before speaking again, he pulled out a small daisy from his pant pocket and presented it to you.
your eyes focused on the blooming flower that lost a few of its petals due to being stuck in the boy’s pocket for a while now. but the remaining petals still standing were enough to maintain the flower’s beauty.
“when did you become such a gentlemen?” you nudged his shoulder and took the flower from his hands.
“oh, i’ve been giving him some lessons.”
alarmed, you turned to see the familiar face that had been surprising you all day.
“what are you doing here?! how about the kids—who’s watching them?!” you immediately stood up and marched towards the too calm figure standing amongst the trees. but he caught you with both arms, preventing you with ease.
“woah woah, take a breather, they’re with clarisse.” he said and stopped you before you ran back to the mess hall.
reading your expression, luke could tell you were not convinced nor pleased so he had to fix his answer.
“—and annabeth and chris.”
with that you stopped fighting against his grasp and stepped back, finally exhaling.
“you haven’t answered my first question.”
“oh! i just uh wanted to um come and tell you that they’re asking for damien back at camp. they were practically begging me to come over here and get him!”
you narrowed your eyes after he finished, easily indicating the lie.
“okay…you can go damien but remember what i said,” you smiled and patted his shoulder before sending him off back to camp.
the young boy ran off without a care and ready to make that bracelet with a formal apology. luke stood there, quite surprised that his lie that chris helped him think of in fact worked.
“soooo do you need help with whatever that is?” luke pointed at the skirt laid out on the rock.
“no.” you shortly responded and walked back to your rock but luke followed like a lost puppy.
“are you sure? i mean as head counselor for cabin 11, i can cook up a mean batch of laundry,” he insisted and trailed behind you.
unbeknownst to him, you rolled your eyes and cringed at his wording.
“your words don’t even make sense.”
caught in a lie, luke decided actions spoke louder than words and walked past you to the skirt. you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion as he picked it up and crouched down near the water before dunking it back into the water.
shocked and a little annoyed, you hurriedly ran to him.
“what the hell are you doing?! i just washed that! i’m waiting for it to dry dumbass!”
“oh she curses!” he exclaimed, finally getting a real response from you.
you reached for it until luke raised it a little higher, just out of your reach. using his height as an advantage, he held out the clothing as far as he could and to the river.
fed up and exhausted, you went on your tippy-toes and lunged for the skirt. swiftly, luke pulled it close to his body just as you reached leading you to accidentally lean too far.
with a splash, you fell straight into the freezing cold water, unknown to how deep the river was. luke’s eyes widened, he thought you falling in would be funny but once you hadn’t resurfaced within a few seconds he became worried.
without a second thought, he dropped the skirt, pulled off his camp shirt, and dove into the biting waves. as soon as he saw your bright orange t-shirt in contrast to the clear water, he put his arm around your waist and swim towards the surface.
pulling you out to the rocks and laying your body on the ground, he waited for you to gain consciousness. luckily, you started to gasp for air and spit out gulps of water as you sat up.
luke sighed in relief at once. you wiped your face of water and blinked repeatedly until your sight returned to normal. then your eyes were fixated on something else, rather someone. his bare chest stood directly in front of your face, it wasn’t like you were trying to stare!
“i’m sorry, y/n. I’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to do that and i’m really sorry.” luke recited.
“i-it’s okay.” you stuttered, the cold water chilling your body.
“here take off the wet one and take mine.”
luke grabbed his discarded camp shirt and handed it to you. if you weren’t on the verge of frostbite you would’ve refused, but without another word you agreed and luke turned to face the trees as you pulled the wet shirt over your head and put on luke’s.
“thanks. for saving me and the shirt.”
luke turned back to face you and smiled, “i mean i was the one to make you fall into the water in the first place, it’s the least i can do.”
“aren’t you cold?” you signaled to his bare chest.
“no, i’m okay don’t worry. but your jeans are still wet so let’s head back to camp.” he reassured and helped you get up.
you nodded and let him take the lead. with your wet shirt and skirt in one hand and the other grabbing onto luke’s arm, you two finally made it back to camp. before dropping you off at your cabin, you had to ask.
“why did you come to the river anyway?”
luke awkwardly put his hand on the back of his neck and looked away.
“oh. i just uh wanted to spend time with you.” he admitted, ultimately facing you.
you stopped attending to your dripping pants and looked up at him. he had a genuine smile, now with both hands shoved into his pockets.
how was it that you had never noticed the golden flecks in his deep brown eyes? or the way the orange hues of the sunset highlighted the amber shade his eyes would turn?
“y’know, there are a lot of other ways to get my attention in the first place, that doesn’t involve us falling into freezing cold water.”
luke laughed at your comment which eased the awkward air.
“i had this almost exact same conversation with a little boy of about seven years, and gave him some valuable advice.”
“what was the advice..?” he carefully asked.
“to make her a bracelet and apologize, one of…you’ve already done profusely.” you raised your eyebrow to imply his previous attempt in apologizing nonstop.
“ah, a bracelet you say, okay got it,” luke said and nodded his head.
with that, he bid you a good day and you asked to meet him later at the campfire to return his shirt.
“alright you two sit there, i don’t want to see anymore fighting over the dinosaurs, you can sit here with him, and you three over there—” guiding the campers for the campfire that was just about to begin, you made your way to an empty bench.
smiling to yourself, you watched as your campers finally calmed down and enjoyed the music, giving up on fighting and arguing with one another. someone jumped over the bench and leaned back to sit right next to you, and you had a feeling who it may be.
“luke?”
“yes ma’am.” he replied with a tilt towards you and two fingers from his head.
the campfire lit up his face and highlighted his sharp features that you had somehow missed until this moment. his charming smile urging his dimples alongside his dark curls freshly washed with a new scented shampoo was enough to make you realize you were hooked. damn.
“oh i have a little something for you, give me your arm and close your eyes,” he spoke up and put his hand in his pocket.
raised eyebrow, you reluctantly closed your eyes and gave him your right arm. suddenly in fear of some bug or scary animal on your hand, you slowly retracted it back to yourself until he gently got a hold of it.
he pulled your arm towards him slightly and slipped something on around your wrist. waiting for his approval, you sat questioning what the mystery item could be.
“okay, open.” luke did a little ‘ta-da’ motion once you flickered your eyes open, adjusting to the dark yet orangish lit surrounding.
you looked down at the intricate, handsome bracelet that appeared on your wrist. it was similar to the camp necklaces but the beads were translucent with flowers imbedded into them. except for one bead that was painted a heavenly green, your favorite color.
astonished and at a loss for words, you observed the bracelet, moving around the small beads on the string.
“i’m sorry.”
snapping out of your trance, you instantly stared up at luke after his words in confusion.
“what?”
“you said earlier, ‘there are a lot of other ways to spend time with you that don’t involve us falling into freezing cold water, for starters make a bracelet and apologize.’” he repeated your words from back by your cabin. he remembered.
“so you made me a bracelet and apologize just like i said?” double-checking, you glanced once at the bracelet and back to the dashing boy who looked as if he had stars in his eyes, waiting for your reaction.
“not only for you, i also helped damien make one for that girl he’s got a crush on,” he continued and looked over to the little boy doing the exact same hold-out-your-arm-and-close-your-eyes trick on the girl sobbing about her stained skirt earlier.
she opened her eyes to a freshly washed skirt and matching bracelet, along with a smiling boy who was apologizing and waiting for her reaction. she leapt into his arms with a bunch of ‘thank yous.’ the boy then briefly peered at luke who proceeded to wink and give an approving nod.
happily surprised, you sat gaping at the boy you thought was so infuriating just a couple of hours before. luke knew exactly what he was doing. he knew how much you cared for the campers and your half-siblings, how you would always chose their safety and happiness at the expense of your very own.
it was one of the traits he admired the most about you. even when in a bad mood or not feeling your best, you would put on a brave face and make sure to put their needs in front of you own.
he witnessed it first-hand last week when your campers wanted to go rock climbing but there were dozens of poison ivy already there. thus, to not disappoint the kids, you stayed up all night removing the dangerous plant and relocating them to another area deep in the forest for them to grow.
even with your plant manipulation abilities, with the large amount of the poisonous plant, it took you quite a while. afterwards, you went as far to replace them with lovely daisies you summoned from the gardens in front of your cabin.
during the move from the rock climbing course to the forest, luke had spotted you while some late-night sword practicing because he couldn’t sleep due to apollo cabin next door.
he debated approaching you and settled on only admiring you from afar after you almost finished anyway. he didn’t want to disturb you or aggravate you further than you already were. but leaving you here in the forest during midnight would be wrong.
what if a monster were to come? how were you to defend yourself if you were distracted! therefore, it was just common sense that luke had to keep watch, i mean he even had his sword with him after all.
but once the sun peeped from the tall mountains, he came to a realization that he had just sat and watched you for more than a couple hours. so in order to not get caught, he ran off back to his cabin before anyone would wake up.
only a little after luke headed to bed, morning arrived and you were the first one to break the happy news to your campers that today would be the day for rock climbing. greatly proud and feeling accomplished, you even invited other cabins to join and have a spin at it. including luke’s.
now he was the one to show you how much he cared for the campers as well, focusing on a feature you had great respects for. your shocked expression softened and now leapt into his arms.
“thank you, castellan. really.”
blood rushed to his cheeks and he tried to hide his excitement, but you felt his genuine smile on your shoulder. before pulling away, he stopped by your ear and whispered.
“do i have permission to kiss you, counselor?”
you could’ve giggled at his words and how close his lips were to your ear. without wasting another breath, you pulled his face closer to you and put your lips on his.
feeling the warmth of his breath, you could taste the sweet taste of strawberries he must’ve eaten earlier. only centimeters away, your bodies were attracted to each other almost pressing. the kiss wasn’t long but not short either, somewhat leaving a lasting impression on the other.
yet again you felt a small grin of his lips during the kiss, making you pull away for air. but your eyes were still glued to his, moments away from repeating the act but you both realized where you were and how irresponsible it would look as counselors. so instead he grabbed your hand, now giving you the absolute cutest puppy dog eyes before asking.
“do i have your attention now?”
3K notes · View notes
nathaslosthershit · 24 days
Text
A Much Needed Interview (OP81)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
(Part 2 of Teen Dad) Summary: After the shock of Oscar revealing himself to be a former teen dad, he joins an interview in the hopes of clearing everything up and limiting the overwhelming amount of questions he has been getting.
“Oscar, it is nice of you to sit down with us. I know it has been an interesting few weeks for you and your family. How are you guys all doing?” The interviewer asks.
‘Yeah, y’know, I had expected to one day have to open up about it all, but I never thought I’d have to do it the way I did. It has been fine, obviously my kids are young enough to not be impacted because they aren’t on social media, but it has been strange for my fiancée who is now getting hundreds of requests on her private account. I have sort of decided to take a break from social media because the response has been overwhelming and like none before. Mostly positive but I think a few people have gotten the wrong idea so I was hoping to clear everything up.” Oscar rambled. He was more nervous about this interview than any he had done before.
“Of course. Why don’t we start at the beginning, how did you and your fiancée meet?”
“We actually met at one of my races. She went to support one of her close friend’s brothers. After the race that I sadly didn’t do too well in, I saw her with her friend and I was kinda frozen in my spot, immediately head over heels. Sadly, it seems like everyone but her noticed. I was too scared to do anything so I just watched her leave. I think I sulked for days, totally regretting my decision to do nothing. A totally heartbroken 16 year old. I looked for her every single race until she finally came back a few months later.”
“Oh please tell me you finally got the confidence to shoot your shot.”
“Nope! I just stared at her and stuttered when she caught me looking then ran off. I then had an amazing race, I think part of me was just trying to make up for the embarrassment and luckily it seems my car got the memo. After the race she came up to me and asked for my number.” God, he was blushing profusely at the memory. He knew he would be getting slack for this for a very long time. 
“Such a story! The young Oscar Piastri was no ladies’ man.”
“He was absolutely not. Soon after we started dating.” Oscar awkwardly laughed, sensing what was about to come up.
“And then kids came shortly after?” The interviewer asked with care in his voice, certainly able to sense Oscar’s change in attitude.
“Yeah. Uh, obviously not planned. I don’t think many people plan to become parent’s at 18. It was a shock… I didn’t handle it the best at first, something I think I will always regret. She was scared and while so was I, I should have been more supportive. I was embarrassed for a while. Felt like a total idiot. I didn’t tell anyone outside of my family and made them swear to secrecy. I also began to isolate myself from friends because I couldn’t bring myself to tell them but also felt terrible lying. A few months in I finally snapped myself out of it and began to focus on all the wonderfulness that was to come. I loved her more than anything and I would be lying if I said I hadn’t already imagined a life together in great detail. By the time we found out it was twins, a boy and a girl, I was ecstatic.”
“Well mate, I don’t blame you for your feelings. I definitely would have been a terrible father at 18 so I salute you.” The interviewer joked.
“Honestly, I had the same thought for a while, even when I was excited to have kids. I had so many doubts about it, I mean how could I not? But when it came down to it, I couldn’t afford to be anything less than a great father. Of course I had my moments, and still do years later, but I wouldn’t be able to let myself be anything less than I am. If you love your kids enough, you find a way.”
“How did having kids so young impact your career? Obviously it didn’t hurt it too much considering you are in your second year driving in Formula 1.”
“Well, I decided I wouldn’t advertise my situation unless a team was very serious about me. Prema knew, Alpine did too and of course McLaren does. All were welcoming and accommodating, as much as they could be. I don’t think I would have gone with any of them if they weren’t cool with it though. I realized the minute my kids were born I would give it all up for them, which scared the hell out of me.”
“That is admirable. All these years later you are still with their mother, correct?”
“Yes! I asked her to marry me over break. Everyone close to us had been confused as to why it took so long but we had discussed marriage together many times and made the decision that because our relationship moved so fast with having kids so young, we would wait a bit. I mean, we are still young but I honestly couldn’t wait any longer. She is everything to me and the most wonderful mother my kids could have.”
“Have your kids been around the paddock yet? I assume they are old enough to understand what you do.”
“They have been to the factory and come with me to meetings when we haven’t had a sitter for them. Luckily, they are both very well behaved in public, they also really like watching the races on tv and have somewhat of an understanding of what I do. They don’t believe I actually drive the car though.” Oscar rumbled. Trying to convince his twins that yes, their father actually does drive the cars they see going super fast, has been an ongoing issue. They seem to believe he is tricking them but have no problem believing Uncle Logan and Uncle Lando drive the cars. It has definitely humbled him immensely.
“Well you will have to fix that soon huh? Will they be attending races in the future?”
“I am trying to work that out with my fiancée actually. They are almost four so we don’t want them traveling too far, I also don’t believe they will be able to be entertained solely by the race the entire time so we have a lot to deal with. But I think seeing them on the paddock supporting me will be one of the best moments of my life. I selfishly can’t wait for them to come.”
The interview wrapped up shortly after that. Getting to reminisce on the start of his relationship and how far they have come and how many wonderful things are in the future put Oscar in a deliriously happy mood. He couldn’t wait to get home to his family. 
Walking through the door, he was immediately welcomed to the sound of toddler meltdowns. Fully entering the house, he saw his very tired fiancée rubbing her face as she tried to calm her babies down. Clearly this had been going on for a while.
Despite how upset she looked, she immediately perked up at seeing Oscar had returned. But that immediately went away as she remembered the screaming kids and how messy the house and herself were.
“Sorry honey, I know you are probably so tired after the interview and meetings earlier and these two missed their nap so they are so cranky and I just-” He cut her off with a kiss. Once he pulled away she looked at him, perplexed. A kiss from Oscar was never unwelcome but it was the last thing she expected at that moment.
“Hey, look at me.” He said as he put a hand on her cheek. “I love you and our little family so much and you never, ever have to apologize for something as trivial as this. Why don’t you go get in the bath and relax a little and I will try to wrangle these two, okay?” 
In her eyes, Oscar had never been hotter than he was now. Now it was her turn to surprise him with a kiss, even more passionate than the first. They would have continued if it hadn’t been for more screaming from their two kids.
Still, Oscar wouldn’t change a thing.
2K notes · View notes
captainfern · 8 days
Text
You Know You're Right
Captain John Price x fem!reader
["You Know You're Right" by Nirvana]
[18+]
Tumblr media
•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•
• summary - an argument with your bodyguard ends a lot differently than you anticipated lol. • rating - 18+ • wordcount - 6.6k • warnings - fem!reader, thick girl friendly ofc, bodyguard!price, protective/jealous!price, oral [f!receiving], angry!sex but not really, he calls you a slag once i'm so sorry but he doesn't mean it i swear, unprotected (obviously) piv, reader has a breeding kink but price is like babe chill, but he also has one, so uh yeah breeding kink (obviously), reader is on contraceptives tho x, dirty talk, praise, degradation, strong language, 99% porn 1% plot • also to note: reader is a wealthy woman in the english countryside. sorry to all my american cuties but you can be a sexy british heiress for a while x
and the uniform stays on 🙏
my contribution to @glitterypirateduck price writing challenge for this month. sorry for the lack of work recently. uni's a bitch. and sorry for any mistakes lol anyway enjoy x
•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•
You don't know how long John Price had been your bodyguard for. You honestly couldn't recall the amount of days, weeks, months, years it had been since you had first met him.
Of course, you remember the day itself, the events, the moment you first met him. A crisp, autumnal morning with the trees around you alit with oranges and reds, and you stood on the front steps of your grand country estate as a couple of military-grade hummers pulled up in front of you.
You remember a few armed men spilling out onto your driveway, clutching M16's or AR15's or whatever the fuck they were because you weren't paying attention to them. You were paying attention to the man that followed behind them.
A man who, as the armed soldiers-of-sorts fanned out and scanned their surroundings, approached you with a warm smile that melted the early-morning chill from the air. With deep eyes that heated you more than the fuzzy housecoat you had bundled around you.
He offered his hand, and you shook it. His hand was warm too.
And the way he spoke– oh fuck, his voice. Flint striking steel and fire crackling from it's spark. A smoker. A man who, all so suddenly, sounded much too experienced to be the bodyguard of a wealthy woman in the English countryside.
"John Price," he had introduced. "S'a pleasure, miss."
You then smiled politely in return and introduced with your name. He chuckled lightly, commenting something along the lines of oh, I know who you are, miss which made your body grow even warmer.
You had looked up, ignoring the fact he was still holding your hand gently in his, and gestured to the three young men who were pacing around the front of your house, weapons drawn. "Will these gentlemen be staying with you for the entirety of your stay?"
He shook his head ruefully. "No, miss. They'll be gone within the hour. Just ensuring they know their way 'round in case they need to get here in a hurry."
You looked back down at him, arching a brow and finally removing your hand from his. He dropped his arm with a clearing of his throat, bringing his hands up to clutch the top of his vest.
"Will they need to get here in a hurry?" You challenged, almost jokingly, but John saw no joke. A joke about your safety is no joke he'd dear indulge in.
"No," he said sternly and quite quickly, you remember. "But it's just precautions. No, don't you worry, sweetheart. You're in safe hands. I assure you that."
Sweetheart.
Perhaps you remember the first meeting with John Price because it was the very first time he referred to you in such a way. Sweetheart. Now, a little over a year later, he still refers to you as such, but also–
"Morning, love. Sleep well?" He'd ask when you emerge from your bedroom in the morning.
Or,
"There she is. Rough night, pet?" He'd quip when you finally decide to show yourself about late-afternoon after a night out with your friends.
Or even,
"Need a hand with that, darling?" He'd offer when you found yourself struggling to carry the many shopping bags through the door.
Oftentimes, the way he spoke to you, the way he referred to you, was like you two had been married for years. And it wasn't only the way he spoke to you that had you going to bed giggling and kicking your feet like a girl with a crush.
Lingering touches and long hugs and kisses to the top of your head. John was always so warm and welcoming. His presence crackled like a fire in winter, lulling you to sleep or to a state of comfortability. If it was any other man, you wondered if you'd be weirded out by the closeness of him– but because it was John, everything just felt... right.
Riding horses in the springtime, and he'd assist you into the saddle with big hands running down your sides and legs, settling you onto your sturdy steed with a squeeze to your knee. He'd ride on a seperate horse if you wanted to canter through the forest; or he'd walk alongside yours if you were only taking a lazy stroll across the pastures.
Swimming in the summertime, and he'd smooth oils across your exposed skin. You'd revel in the way his large palms moved against you, such a strong man being so incredibly gentle. He'd watch you swim, his eyes occasionally darting up and around, before settling back on you again. He always declined to join you, angling that silly little boonie hat of his over his eyes to shield the sun's rays.
Keeping you warm in the wintertime, letting you snuggle up beneath furs and blankets on your couch while he chopped firewood outside, bringing the axe down again and again until he had enough kindling to keep the fire running for days to come. You'd watch him work up a sweat, muscles stretching and contracting beneath his shirt. Your entire body would flush with warmth.
But sometimes... sometimes the two of you didn't get along so well. And it wasn't your fault, you didn't think. You honestly found Captain John Price so confusing at times, especially now that the two of you had known each other for quite some time.
Partying with your friends, and you'd attract the attention of some poor man who didn't know what he was getting himself into. He'd smile at you, offer you drinks or a smoke or whatever you wanted, his hands beginning to wander as the music seemed to grow louder and louder and the colours around you blurred together. You'd laugh and dance and sing with your friends, this man actively engaging with you and–
It never lasted.
Price would swoop in. Sometimes before the stranger could offer you a drink, sometimes after. Sometimes the man never got the chance to even speak to you, with your bodyguard planting himself firmly in front of you and blocking your would-be pursuer.
You were never one to complain. After all, it was his job to protect you. But you didn't like when, after getting home in the early hours of the morning, he would roughly escort you to your room, ensure you wouldn't be sick, then leave without another word.
He'd be better by the morning.
And this became a cycle. A cycle of trying to combat the winds of a hurricane. Impossible, really. You just had to brace yourself.
But you were sick of bracing yourself. You were sick of getting fucking cock-blocked by your ex-military bodyguard. You were an absolutely gorgeous, rich woman living on her own in the countryside, and you fucking deserved to find someone. You, frankly, deserved to get fucked.
"I'm going out tonight," you told Price as you emerged from your bedroom. You were already dressed, looking impeccable as always.
Price lounged in one of the chaises positioned in the hallway outside your bedroom. He glanced up from his phone, glanced back down, and then did a double take. His eyes shot up again and he immediately pocketed his phone as he got to his feet, knees cracking with the speed of it all.
"I– you said you were just going out for a few drinks with friends?" He countered, eyes skimming up and down your frame. But not for any longer than a second, you don't think. Forever the gentleman, his eyes honed in on your face, his gaze already beginning to melt the icy facade you'd put in place.
But you steeled your nerves.
"I am," you said with a smile.
"You're going into the city? I'll have to organise a driver–" Price began, but you cut him off with a shake of your head. You didn't live too far from the main city, but it was still a significant drive for simply a few drinks.
"No, no, we're just popping into town," you said, referring to the small, quaint town less than five down the road. "Having a few drinks at the pub. Nothing big."
You and your friends were regulars at the pub. And John frowned. He knew that the other regulars– a group of men you'd become familiar with– would also be there.
You clocked his frown and your smile grew. "What's the matter, John? Am... Am I not allowed to go?"
He huffed. "No, you can go, but just let me–"
"Oh, no need," you said with a batter of your eyelashes. You told him you'd organise your own driver. "And you don't need to come. I'll only be a couple of hours."
John's jaw tensed, and you could see the muscles moving beneath his facial hair.
"No," he said firmly. "I'm coming."
Your smile faltered. "No, you're not. I'm fine, John. Have a break. If it makes you feel any better, I'll be back before midnight–"
"That doesn't make me feel better," John growled. "I... I have no problem with you going out, but I need to come with you. I– I am coming with you, end of story."
Your smile had disappeared completely now. You then looked him up and down. He was dressed how he usually did, even around the house. A suit complete with the trousers and white dress-shirt. But he wore his kevlar vest over top, and with a belt stocked with a couple of sidearms and ammunition, he didn't exactly look inconspicuous. At least he wasn't wearing his boonie hat.
"Price..." You began. "Please, just... I'll be fine, okay? Can you just let me do something on my own–?"
"No."
You frowned. "John–"
"It's my job to protect you, is it not?" He cocked his head, daring you to challenge him. "You hired me to protect you. You pay me to keep an eye on you since there are a couple of real fuckwits out there that would want to hurt you, right? So why the fuck would I let you leave here alone?"
He took a step forward, opening his arms in a gesture of so?
Your frown deepened. "I deserve some privacy, you know. I appreciate that you look out for me, but I want to be able to enjoy myself in public without..."
John waited, but urged a mocking, "Without...?"
You scoffed. "Without you hovering over me. I just want to... enjoy myself, okay? I want to meet people–"
"Oh," John suddenly said, and his tone was less of realisation, more of discovery. "I see."
You scowled. "What?"
"You want to get fucked, is that it?"
Your mouth dropped open. "I–"
"No, no, it's okay, sweetheart. It's okay," he tutted, shaking his head as you stood there, embarrassment suddenly festering in the pit of your stomach, as he appraised you like you were a whole new person. He sighed. "You want me gone so I don't stop the lads from flocking to you. Is that it? You want me to let you go out on your own so you can get one of those boys to fuck you?"
The shame in your stomach, pulling and pushing at your conscious, fizzled out and was instead replaced by a new flame of self-determination. You took a step closer to your bodyguard and jabbed a finger into the taut material of his tac vest.
"You have no right to tell me who I can and cannot fuck, got it? I can do what the fuck I want. I'm a grown woman, Price," you seethed. "Secondly, yeah, I might just get one of the guys at the pub to fuck me. I bet they would, you know. I bet he'd bend me over his knee and–"
"Stop talking," John rolled his eyes, and the gesture made you a whole lot angrier. But he continued before you could say anything else. "You're not going. You can throw a fit if that's what you want, but you're not going."
Throw a fit. You wanted to slap him for that. But you didn't. Even though you were growing angrier and angrier at the man before you, there was something inside your brain that prevented you from going that far. Maybe it was the fact that... seeing him so protective of you... made you feel...
You shook your head to send the thoughts away. You're meant to be angry at him, babe.
"Fuck you," you spat, since those were the only words that managed to come to the forefront of your mind.
He grunted. "Yeah, I bet you'd like that, wouldn't you? Just a needy fuckin' slag looking for a quick fuck–"
You raised your hand to slap him. You wanted to strike your palm across his handsome face. A slag? Who the fuck does he think he is–
Price grabbed hold of your wrist before you got within inches of his cheek. And, quickly, you realised you'd made a huge mistake.
In seconds, he had your soft body pinned against the wall beside your bedroom door. He pinned you there with his body, hard and firm against yours, one large hand holding your wrist and nailing it to the wall, while the other grabbed your other wrist and held it by your side.
His face was close to yours. You could smell him. Rich oud, the warmth of some sort of spice note, expensive tobacco–
Your core fluttered.
Oh, fuck off–
Price shoved a knee between your legs, parting them and forcing a yelp from your throat at the way he dragged himself impossibly closer. The taut muscle of his thigh beneath you made you scream within your head, silently begging that the warmth of your clothed cunt didn't give anything away because-
You were fucked.
Fucked off, yes. Angry at him, yes.
But he was also turning you on in a way that no man has ever done before.
"D'you want'a try that again?" He whispered, the words ghosting across the heated skin of your face.
When you didn't respond right away, he pushed his knee up higher, shifting his hips closer to yours, humming out an impatient, "Hm?"
You shook your head.
"Didn't think so."
You frowned. "You're such an arsehole."
"I know," he said, words hushed. "But you fucking love it, don't you?"
The both of you paused. Breathing jaggedly, you looked at each other for what felt like an eternity, a storm passing between the two of you, complete with the crackling of thunder. You could feel him breathing against you, and you willed yourself not to look down at where your bodies were flushed together. Instead, you remained calm.
You watched the way his eyes darted across your face. How they lingered on the curves of your cheeks, or the part between your lips. His eyes scanned over your nose, your eyes, your everything. You could almost hear his brain trying to keep up.
You could feel your core growing warmer and warmer, arousal pooling and no doubt tangible. Without a doubt he could feel it against the material of his trousers, soaking through to his thigh. It was already drenching your underwear, and probably ruining his suit.
God, you loved him in a suit.
"What are you waiting for?" You whispered your challenge, suddenly overwhelmed by the heat between you.
Price groaned and he released his hold on your wrists. Instead, he grabbed the fat just above your hip in one hand and wrapped the other around your jaw, before he was pushing forward and slamming his mouth to yours.
•º•º•
John Price didn't know how long it had been since he fell in love with you. He honestly couldn't recall the number of days, weeks, months, years it had been since the moment he first saw you.
But of course he remembers what the day was like– how beautiful and welcoming and soft you looked, bundled in your expensive housecoat with a sliver of your leg exposed to the chilly autumn breeze. He remembers the bright smile, tired but bright, you had offered him as he walked up to you and extended his hand. He remembers the way your hand felt within his, and how he didn't want to let go.
He remembers how his heart lurched in his chest when you introduced yourself, and he recalls feeling nothing but sincerity for the fact a pretty woman like you needed to be protected by someone like him. Oh, but how gorgeous you looked when you thanked him for his service. The almost-guiltiness didn't last for long.
You were always so sweet to him. Even when he put you in your place, told you what you could and couldn't do for your own safety. You were constantly being kind to him. Respectful and polite and understanding.
You were such a good girl.
And as the days passed, as they blurred into weeks and months and finally a year-ish together, you got all the more sweeter. But–
But you now knew him. You knew what made him tick. You knew exactly what to do to get your way. Saunter through your home with a pretty, coy smile and a soft hand on his bicep and of course, sweetheart, we can go into the city today. Or a well-cooked meal of his favourite food, paired with a pint if you really wanted to get into his good books, and okay then, love, I'll call your driver to take us.
You knew how to deal with him. And he let you, of course.
But as the months went by, Price couldn't help but grow resentful. His pretty girl, being chatted up by some absolute mingers in a big-city nightclub. Or maybe even the village idiots down at the local pub. How dare they?
He found himself growing more annoyed that they approached you, instead of worried that they could cause you harm. Sure, they were still a threat, and Price was doing his job. But also, also, they were encroaching on what was his. What belonged to him.
His good girl.
And he supposed he should have seen this coming– an argument bubbling up and over about it all. About how he was always there when you just wanted to socialise and have a good time. How he was always turning guys away from you. It wasn't fear, and John understood that. But he was firm in his thinking– you were his.
Oh fuck, you even looked gorgeous when you were angry at him. When you were spitting and hissing like a feral cat, and even with your claws unsheathed and swinging right towards his face, he found you to be the most ethereal being on the planet.
His pretty girl.
He didn't mean to call you a slag. Of course he didn't mean it. His anger conjuring into stupid fucking words that he couldn't keep hidden in his head. And even then his anger wasn't to you, but to the local fuckwits who haunted the village pub in the hopes of spending time with you.
Delusional cunts.
When John caught your wrist and pinned you to the wall outside your bedroom, he didn't mean to escalate things. He was angry at himself, angry for saying such filth to you. But then–
But then he felt it. His heart hammering wildly against his ribcage and your chest rising and falling rapidly. He felt the way you squirmed against him, how you arched off the wall and how your barely clothed pussy seemed to throb against the muscle of his thigh. He could feel your warmth through his trousers, feel your need.
His needy girl.
And he was more than happy to indulge you. Hell, he was more than happy to indulge himself.
•º•º•
John's mouth on yours was hot. Liquid heat passing between you, sparks flying as he pulled you closer by the hand on your jaw. He split your lips with his tongue, pushing inside with just as much strength as you anticipated. His lips against yours smeared your gloss, sticky and sweet, mixing with the spit that threatened to drip as he licked into your mouth again and again, chasing the taste of you.
You moaned into it, eyes shut and hands wrapping around his neck. Fingers delved into his hair, tugging and pulling and angling his head to get yourself closer. He groaned in response, pushing his pelvis closer to yours, and you could feel him growing in his suit trousers.
Then, you began to move. You followed him blindly, your eyes still closed as you attempted to keep up with the languid rhythm of his tongue. He licked at your teeth, your tongue, your lips, committing your taste to memory.
You'd never been kissed like this before.
You were walking backwards, guided by Price's large hands. He had two hands on your waist now, holding you flush to him as he slowly edged you back, back, back until the backs of your legs bumped into something. Your bed.
You broke the kiss, surprised, and turned your head to the side to see that yeah, he'd navigated you both back into the warm, lovely-smelling oasis of your bedroom. As you looked to the side, your bodyguard continued his mission, dragging his lips along your jaw and then latching his mouth onto your neck.
He groaned, tasting more of you. He'd imagined what you'd taste like, imagined the saltiness of your skin his lips. He now knew what your mouth tasted like. All was left now was–
John forced himself away, grumbling to himself and gently pushing you back onto the bed and into a sitting position. You smiled up at him, and he shifted to stand between your parted legs, cupping your face in two hands. He bent down to place one last kiss to your lips, before slowly– with cracking knees and a shallow grunt of effort– he lowered himself to his knees.
His hands dragged down your body. They rolled over your shoulders and arms, skimming lightly over the curves of your breasts and stomach, running over the fat of your hips and thighs. When his knees hit the, thankfully carpeted, floor, he gripped your knees and gave you a couple of comforting squeezes.
"Alright, sweetheart?" He asked, voice husky and full of yen– desire and longing mirrored in his eyes.
His eyes on you, his hands dragged back up your thighs and to where your skirt sat bunched a few inches below your hips. He pinched the fabric, toying with it while waiting for your response.
You nodded at him. "M'alright."
"Can..." He dropped his eyes for just a second to look at your skirt, before raising them again. "Can I take this off, please?"
You nodded again, followed by a whispered yes, please. You then raised your hips for him to pull the fabric down and away from you, shuffling back to rip it down your legs and fling it across the room. You giggled at his enthusiasm as he returned to his original position.
Price groaned low in his throat and leaned forward, holding your thighs apart. Your underwear still on, he pressed his face against you, his beard tickling the softest part of your inner thighs. His nose pressed onto your clit, his lips placing a kiss to your clothed core. This forced a moan from your throat, and you gripped your duvet for some kind of stability.
He kissed at the patch of arousal that had bled through during your altercation in the hallway, his nose nudging against your clit as he decided to swipe his tongue against you. He groaned and you keened, a high pitched mewl, your legs twitching either side of his head.
"Pretty girl..." He whispered, the rumble hitting your clit and making you mewl out again.
He kissed at your clothed cunt again, tongue smoothing along the thin cotton fabric until the entire area was wet with his spit and your arousal. Your legs twitched beside him, pleasure sitting fuzzy in the base of your tummy, and you wondered– no, you knew that he could probably make you come in your fucking underwear.
But he didn't. Whether you were thankful for that or not, you weren't entirely sure. But he eventually, and rather torturously, pulled away for long enough to pull your underwear down your legs. He let it fling from your ankles, not caring where it landed, before he was pushing back between your legs once more.
This time, he licked a fat stripe up your cunt before latching his mouth to your clit and sucking. You cried out, a hand shooting down to grab hold of his hair, fisting it tightly as he laved his tongue over you. His mouth was hot, burning at your core, but your body had now been set alight– the flame of pleasure coursing through your veins, heating your body. Your legs trembled now, thighs flexing either side of his head, his facial hair scratching and tickling you all at once.
John's movements were quick. Quicker than you expected. He seemed desperate for it as he licked back down your cunt and stuffed his tongue into your hole– in and out, in and out– before curling and repeating the process. You moaned at his well-timed movements, never leaving you dissatisfied or overstimulated in the slightest. Price was amazing.
He kneaded the fat of your thighs as he ate you out, enjoying the softness of you around his head. His cock was hard and leaking in his trousers, and one of the reasons he wanted you to quickly come on his tongue was so that he didn't bust a fat load in his fucking briefs. He couldn't handle that today. Not when he'd been waiting so long to have you.
"John," you moaned, stretching the syllables. Your hips bucked, his nose catching your puffy clit. You ground against him, moans bubbling from your throat as you tossed your head back. You rode his face, locking your ankles together at his back and anchoring yourself with one hand on the bed and the other in his hair.
He moaned in response, eyes on the way your body writhed above him. He loved the way you bucked up, wriggling in search of your coming high. Fuck, you looked gorgeous.
John screwed his eyes shut and focused on curling his tongue in and out of your sopping hole. He felt his cock twitch. If he looked at you again, he was sure he'd come.
You moaned sweetly above him, orgasm building tight in the base of your tummy. You continued rocking your hips, the mattress creaking quietly beneath you. But the sounds from your mouth, coupled with the wetness of Price's mouth on your pussy, was all that rang true in your ears.
"John, fuck– oh fuck, please–" You mewled, edging on a whine. Desperation was creeping in. You hurtled towards your high.
Then, you felt deep vibrations rock through your core (unbeknownst to you, John had mumbled a that's it, come for me, baby against your hole). The band of pleasure inside you snapped, and with one last push of your cunt into his face, you came.
You moaned John's name, head still tossed back as pleasure fizzled through you. Your thighs clamped down on either side of his head, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you came on his tongue. John happily buried himself deeper into your heat, tongue licking you slowly through your orgasm.
He had looked up, chanced it, and watched you come. He managed to hold on and not come in his briefs, but he could feel the front of them growing tacky with his precum.
A few moments later, ensuring your orgasm had been well wrung from your beautiful body, John withdrew from your cunt. He unbound himself from your legs and got to his feet as you blinked up at him, dazed and fuzzy.
"Feeling good, sweetheart?" John asked, gently and carefully guiding you further up the bed. You crawled with him until your head hit the pillows at the top of the bed and John knelt between your legs, his hands rubbing circles over your bare thighs.
"Yeah... good..." You replied lazily, eyes dropping down to where you could see John's cock straining in his trousers. The sight made you moan, and you attempted to sat up, but Price stopped you.
"Hold on, sweetheart..." He murmured, placing a kiss to the top of your head before helping you out of your top. In companionable silence, he discarded the garment and went to work unclipping your bra, letting your breasts spill out as he discarded that too.
He groaned, happily to himself, reaching forward to roll one of your pebbling nipples between his fingers, his other hand groping the opposite breast.
"Fuckin' beautiful..." He muttered, and then leaned forward to kiss you.
You tasted yourself on him as he guided you back down. A soft tang, a subtle sweetness in his saliva. You moaned, fingers once again moving to card through his hair and stroke the back of his neck, just above his shirt collar.
While you kissed, Price slipped one hand between you and unbuckled his belt. He let the belt hang open while he deftly unbuttoned his trousers and peeled them open just enough for him to reach into his briefs and pull his cock out. He hissed into the kiss, his hand on his own achingly hard cock causing pre to dribble down his shaft.
"Fuck..." He muttered into your mouth, and you pulled back, shifting to look between you. The image of your bodyguard still dressed in his uniform, but with his thick cock hanging out, was a sight to behold. You moaned, hips bucking involuntarily, the heat of your cunt coming within centimetres of the head of his cock.
Price moaned loudly, immediately dropping his hand to fist the base of himself while positioning his hips against yours. He ran the leaking tip, ruddy and flushed red from his arousal, through your soaked folds. At the same time, you both moaned.
"Oh my god," you breathed, still looking down. Price, eyes on your cunt, continued to smear pre along your slit, running his cockhead up and down, revelling in the way your arousal leaked around him.
"S'alright, pretty girl..." He uttered, not looking up from where he circled his tip around your hole. "S'alright... I'll make you feel good. I'll make you feel good." Then, he finally looked up, eyes boring into yours. You felt your stomach flip as he smiled warmly. "That's what you need, isn't it, sweetheart?"
His words dripped mirth. You whined, knowing where he was going with this.
"Just so desperate for some cock, s'that it? S'that what's got you all riled up?" John poked fun at you, referencing your argument beforehand.
You gave in and nodded, shifting your hips and catching the tip of his cock against your entrance. It made both you and Price release sounds of pleasure, but he held strong, gripping himself at the base and pulling his cock away an inch.
"Use your words," he instructed, voice husky, ash-laced. "Use your fucking words, love. Tell me how desperate you are for my cock. How much of a fucking whore you are for it."
The unexpected degradation punched a moan from your lungs. You babbled, "Y-yeah, fuck– need your cock so bad, John, please."
"Yeah?" Price teased, running the head of his cock up and down your folds again. "You need this cock?"
He pushed the head of his cock into your hole, and you moaned, arching your back. But he stopped there, the flared tip of him laying dormant inside. Your cunt fluttered around him, arousal leaking down the curve of your arse. You whimpered, attempting to push your lips down onto him, but a firm swat to your thigh had you pausing in place.
"S'this the cock you need?" Price asked, voice dark. "Or 're you wanting t'get fucked by some stranger? Want one of the lads down at the pub to fuck this tight cunt? Eh, sweetheart? That's right, isn't it? Actin' like a fuckin' slut lookin' for a quick fuck–"
"No, no, no, please–" You said quickly, trying not to get distracted by the way Price's accent was strengthening as your cunt fluttered around his cockhead. "S'only you! Need you, John, please. Only need you 'n– fuck, only need your cock."
Price growled, pleased, having itched that jealous spot inside him. That's right, that's what he wanted to hear.
His good girl.
"That's fuckin' right, baby. Good girl–" John pulled out and then pushed back in, slowly parting your walls for the girth of his cock. You moaned and he leaned forward to kiss you, being as gentle as he could while splitting you open. He murmured against your lips, "That's a good girl. Yeah, that's it, sweetheart. Doin' so well..."
The buckle of his belt clinked as John picked up his thrusts, stretching you apart on his cock. You could feel the bunched fabric of his trousers and briefs against you with each of his thrusts, and when he curled over you to kiss you, the feeling of his dress shirt and tac vest against your bare chest had a shiver rippling through you.
He kissed you hard, just as he had done in the hallway. This time, a bit of saliva did escape your mouth, rolling from the corner as you parted your mouth to moan, Price's tongue licking over your lower lip as the head of his cock punched up against the base of your cervix.
Just like everything else about him, the sex was hot. Price radiated warmth. The space between your bodies was heating up, and you could feel the light sheen of sweat covering your skin. Beneath his beard, Price's cheeks began to burn read, a bead of sweat trickling from his hairline. His hips moved quickly, but with precision, shunting you deeper and deeper into the mattress, making it squeak and groan.
His cock hit all the right places, too. Your walls hugged him, tight and hot and wet as he plunged up against your womb. John could feel you squeezing him. Feel the sheer hold you had on him, physically and otherwise. He grunted and groaned to himself, his balls already beginning to tighten, his lower back starting to strain from the effort.
"John..." You whined, second orgasm already fast approaching. You felt yourself beginning to tighten up again, your muscles pulling taut as the band of pleasure in the base of your abdomen began to expand. The drive of Price's cock was pulling it further and further. You were so close.
And when you were this close, John always seemed to know what to say and do to push you off the precipice.
Expertly, your bodyguard moved his arm downwards to press a couple of fingers to your puffy clit, rolling it beneath with a gentle stroke. He drew gentle circles that made you spasm beneath him, a panting moan filtering from your parted, spit-covered lips.
He continued the drive of his hips, cock hitting the best spot inside you. Bursts of light, of pleasure, appeared behind your fluttering eyelids, the intensity of it all making it hard for you to keep your eyes open. But you did– you forced your eyes open, lids drooping. You locked eyes with Price, and he smiled down at you in a way that was probably meant to be comforting, but it only turned you on more.
"My sweet girl, just look at you," Price cooed, still slamming into you. "So gorgeous. Such a pretty girl, an' you look even prettier getting stuffed with my cock, don't you?"
You nodded, delirious now. You wanted nothing more than for him to come inside you and–
The thought made you moan loudly.
He chuckled. "S'that right?"
"John, fuck–" you moaned out. "Fuck, please–"
Come inside me, you wanted to beg him, but the tip of his cock at the plug of your womb and his fingers on your clit had your vision whiting out as the band in your stomach snapped again.
You came hard. Legs locked around his waist, the fat of your thighs and stomach rippling with his strong movements, you came. Arousal gushed out around his cock, the sensation forcing an unexpected whimper from you. The slick walls of your cunt clutched the girth of him, squeezing with each fluttering pulse of your erratic heartbeat. Fuzzy pleasure washed over you and, just like with his mouth, he stroked your clit through your orgasm and stopped right at the brink of overstimulation.
But you gained no mercy after coming.
John redoubled his efforts. With two strong arms either side of you, he rutted into you with renewed energy, now chasing his own high. His balls, almost painful at this point, smacked against the plush curve of your arse, with the head of his cock leaking inside you.
Oh fuck, he wasn't wearing a condom.
He knew you were on contraceptives. Of course. He knew almost everything about you now. But the thought–
"John–!" You all but sobbed, wriggling beneath him, becoming impatient. Not because you wanted it to end, but because you wanted him to end inside you. "John, please come inside me."
"Fucking hell," he grit out between clenched teeth, teetering on the edge of collapse.
Stuffing you full of him. Coming right up against your cervix, flooding your womb. Filling you out, watching you grow fat with his kid. Laying claim to you, how you were truly his. His pretty girl. His good girl.
Not today.
But the thought alone had Price coming.
"F-fuck, take it, sweetheart, jus'– fuckin good girl, take my cum, baby–" Price muttered, pumping his hips as he came. He filled you with the same kind of warmth he radiated. Comfort and security, maybe.
You moaned quietly once Price'd emptied himself inside of you, and you relaxed your legs so he could flop to the side. Cock still inside you, softening just a bit, Price curled you into him, his face resting in the crook of your neck, your legs entangled.
The two of you caught your breaths, breathing in each other's scent and the pungency of sex. Your eyes opened and closed lazily, the heat of Price's body lulling you to sleep. But you forced your eyes open when Price pulled back– only to change positions. His suit rustled as he pulled you in against him, and you wished you could run your fingers through the hair on his toned chest.
After a little while, you felt Price kiss the top of your head.
"Feeling alright, love?" He asked, and the sincerity in his voice had butterflies fluttering in your stomach.
"Yeah," you replied. "More than alright. I... thank you."
"Thank you," Price said, nuzzling into the top of your head.
•º•º•
The two of you basked in each others company for what seemed like hours before a buzzing broke the haze of whatever dream you were living. Peeling yourself away from Price for a moment, you reached over to your discarded purse and fished your phone out, finding it alight with missed calls and messages from your friends.
You almost felt guiltly.
"Cancel," John grumbled below you, seemingly already knowing what you were looking at. "You're not going out tonight, are you?"
"No, 'm not feeling up to it," you said, smiling.
John, burying himself into the crook of your neck once more, arms wrapped securely around you, smiled too.
•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•
this was the first long-ish fic i've written in a while so forgive me if it wasn't my usual best lolol. anyway thank you for reading and make sure to go check out the other @glitterypirateduck submissions for this writing challenge
lots of luv <3
1K notes · View notes
xothatnerdykid · 6 months
Text
what's love got to do with it?
The students and teachers alike at UA High can't help but notice the strange behavior of the typically stern and stoic teacher of Class 1-A. They come up with all sorts of theories but soon discover the even more surprising truth: Aizawa-sensei is simply falling in love. Fluffy Aizawa x fem!reader drabble. SFW. 2,828 words.
Tumblr media
The way everyone looks at him when he walks in, you’d think he’d grown a second head or something.
Aizawa glances up from his phone after reading a sweet little text from you, greeting him good morning and wishing him a good day at work, only to find every student's wide-eyed, unblinking attention focused solely on him.
One second, they were all happily chattering, and then, the next…
"Hmm? What?" He asks his class offhandedly, throwing his things on the table and taking his usual seat.
But instead of answering him, the whole room erupts into a whispered frenzy.
"Did you see that? Did he just...?"
"No way! Must have been a trick of the light or something."
"What the heck? I feel so unnerved. Llike we just spotted a UFO or there’s been a glitch in the matrix."
“You guys saw it too, right? Are we all just collectively hallucinating?”
"Oi!" He calls their attention. "Would anyone care to tell me what it is exactly that's gotten all of you so worked up this morning?"
Stunned silence falls over Class 1-A again, and Aizawa can’t help but cross his arms and sigh. “Iida? Yaoyorozu? What’s going on?”
He doesn’t miss the way the class president and vice-president exchange a hesitant look before Iida answers him. 
“Apologies, sensei!” He hastily gets up to bow. “I will personally make sure everyone quiets down.” He zooms around the room and gestures frantically at his noisy classmates to settle down.
Bemused by their commotion, Aizawa observes them all carefully. What could’ve caused such a stir? He wonders. And why are they all so reluctant to tell him? Did he have a piece of spinach in his teeth or something? A quick glance downwards tells him he didn’t forget to wear pants or shoes or anything, so what was it?
“If I may, sensei?” Yaoyorozu raises her hand and he nods at her. “I think everyone was just a little distracted by your change in demeanor today."
He furrows his eyebrows at the young girl. "What change?"
"Well, we’ve never seen you smile before. Or at least, not like that.”
He blinks in surprise. He’d been smiling when he walked into class this morning? "What about it?"
"Well, sir," Iida adds, taking his seat once everyone's finally settled down. "It's quite an uncommon sight. Naturally, they were taken aback."
“You usually only smile when you’re giving us a tough time in exams or training exercises, sensei.”
The corners of Aizawa’s mouth twitch upwards at that, which he quickly covers up with a small cough. “Well, enough of that. Let’s get on with today’s lesson, shall we?”
Everyone straightens up to listen as their homeroom teacher goes over a few important announcements. And although he isn’t smiling anymore, Class 1-A doesn't miss the way his usually sharp gaze has grown soft and almost...fond as he speaks to them.
As soon as the homeroom bell rings, Aizawa dismisses them with an absent-minded wave of his hand and takes out his phone to text you: Do I really never smile?
You smile when you’re rounding up bad guys sometimes. You reply almost right away. Or when you see a cat.
He chuckles. Apparently I also do it when I’m torturing my students. Then…Or when I’m texting you.
You send back a little cat emoji, and the grin you get after reading that doesn't leave your face for the rest of the day.
_________________________________________
“Shouta! Helloooo? I said Earth to Shouta?” Kayama waves her hand in Aizawa’s face.
It seems to snap him out of whatever trance he’s in. “Sorry, what?” He blinks up at her.
She gives Yamada a look. “What’s with him today?”
“Dunno,” he shrugs, then turns to his friend. “Hey buddy, didn’t get any sleep again last night or something?”
You could say that, Aizawa thinks to himself with a smirk, then hastily scolds his features into their usually stoic expression. “No. Why?”
Kayama raises an eyebrow at him. “You've just been acting a little...off. Distracted, maybe?”
"Nothing to worry about," Aizawa reassures them, dismissing their concerns with a wave of his hand. He goes back to observing his students closely in the hopes of them moving past the subject, but Kayama and Yamada aren’t convinced. Anyone looking at him could tell something was different today.
“Sensei?” Kirishima hesitantly calls out to him. “I’m having a little trouble with my balance. Could you show me that move again?”
Aizawa nods, and everyone’s jaw just about drops to the floor when he demonstrates the proper stance with uncharacteristic patience. 
"Remember to be mindful of where you shift your weight," He guides Kirishima through the motions with a supportive tone, a stark departure from his normally gruff and no-nonsense approach. "And keep your focus. You'll get it."
Kirishima does as he’s told and looks to his teacher for feedback.
"No, adjust your stance a bit like this. Yes, that's it. Great improvement," Aizawa says, offering a rare compliment. 
Flabbergasted, the red-haired boy manages a stuttering, "Th-Thank you, sensei," before Aizawa moves on to help the next student. 
Observing everything from afar, Kayama leans over to Yamada and whispers, “He didn’t get a concussion on that last mission, did he? I've never seen him like this."
“Check what was in his coffee a while ago. And if he still has more — oof, it was just a joke!”
_________________________________________
“Okay, enough is enough!” Mina bursts into the room, dramatically crying. “I have to know!”
“Know what?” Kirishima asks as the others start to gather around her.
“What’s going on with Aizawa sensei? I saw him on the way here — he’s wearing a buttoned up shirt.”
There’s a collective gasp.
“Are you sure?” Momo asks.
Mina nods frantically. “And it was freshly pressed, too!”
Another round of gasps.
“And his hair was tied up!” The pink girl all but weeps, throwing herself onto the nearest desk.
“What do you think is going on with him?” Deku rubs his chin thoughtfully.
“He’s been acting so weird lately!” Uraraka whines.
As if on cue, Aizawa walks in. “Good morning, class,” he greets them without his usual gruffness.
Everyone hurries back to their seats, but Mina leans over to grab Kaminari’s sleeve, screaming under her breath, “He said good morning!”
“Look at his eyes!” He points frantically. “No puffy, dark circles or redness at all! He actually looks well-rested for once!”
“That’s where I draw the line!” Kirishima almost slams his fist on his desk. “We have to get to the bottom of this.”
Sero joins them, “Do you think Mic sensei and Midnight sensei know anything?”
Kaminari shrugs, “It’s worth asking.”
“Maybe Aizawa sensei has a secret twin and he’s pulling a prank on us?” Deku contemplates.
Uraraka shakes her head, “Sensei? Pulling a prank? I doubt it. What if there’s a new teacher at UA with a shape-shifting quirk?”
“Or Shinsou brainwashed him into being in a good mood?” Jirou chimes in.
As they huddle and murmur, Todoroki and Tokoyami shoot them curious glances, and Iida has to shush them discreetly. 
They snap back to attention every time Aizawa faces them, pretending to listen to the lesson. But as soon as their sensei turns away again, the room buzzes with whispered speculation. 
And though he acts none the wiser, seemingly engrossed in the topic they're supposed to be discussing, Aizawa can't help his amusement listening to their outlandish theories. A small, smug part of him relishes stoking the fires of their confusion. 
He knew he'd have some explaining to do, but for now, he’s more than happy to just let  them wonder.
_________________________________________
“Oh, look who finally decided to show up!” is the first thing Mic says when he spots him. The colorful cocktail in his hand is practically empty, but he happily sips the fun loopy straw for whatever dredges he can anyway.
“Are you going to make me regret it?” Aizawa grumbles, taking his seat next to his friends.
But Mic and Midnight just snicker, unfazed. They’ve had years to get used to his grumpiness after all (and a few drinks to put them in a better mood). 
"We have to admit, Aizawa," Midnight smirks up at him. "We had an ulterior motive for asking you to come hang out tonight."
"Don't you always?" He deadpans, lazily chewing at the gyoza they ordered without him. Although he doesn’t show it, he’s pleased to see there’s already a whiskey neat waiting on the table for him. 
Midnight rolls her eyes as she slides it over to him, "Yeah, but aside from just getting you to lighten up as usual."
"And getting you to sing karaoke with us, which I still can't believe—"
"You promised me we'd never talk about it again,” Aizawa groans as he rubs his hand over his face. “And that you'd never let me get that drunk again.”
"Awww, come on, buddy," Yamada slings his arm around him. "What's the point of having a good story you can't tell?"
"Fine, but I'll deny it, so no one will believe you anyway."
"I don’t know,” Midnight sing-songs, swirling her margarita in its glass. “With the way you’ve been acting lately, they just might.”
He frowns at her. “Meaning?”
Mic grins, leaning forward with an impish glint in his eye, "Meaning we heard you've been keeping secrets from us, Aizawa."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh really? Then would you care to tell us why you’ve been smiling so much lately?”
“Or who you’ve been trying to look nice for?”
Realizing they weren’t going to let this go easily, Aizawa sighs and takes a deep sip of his whiskey, the familiar warmth sliding down his throat. He's not one to discuss his personal life openly, even with his close friends, but there's something about their teasing that doesn't quite irk him tonight.
Aizawa tilts his head slightly, thoughtfully. "I'm just...happy, I suppose."
“But it’s more than that, isn’t it?”
“Come on, buddy, you can tell us!” Mic nudges him playfully. 
“We want to know what’s got our favorite grump acting like a—" Midnight’s hands quickly fly up to cover her gasp. 
“Like a what?” Mic gives her a puzzled look, but Aizawa’s shoulders tense up at the glint in her eyes. That look usually meant very bad things for him. 
“Like a lovesick puppy!” She grabs Mic’s arm, excitedly slapping it before shaking Aizawa’s shoulders and squealing into his ear. “That’s it, isn’t it? You’re in love!”
Aizawa chokes on his drink, and Mic pats him on the back to ease his coughing fit.
"Real smooth, Kayama,” he teases her.
"Sorry, but I couldn't resist," Midnight pouts, the twinkle of amusement still shining bright in her eyes.
Aizawa wipes his mouth and sets his glass down with a sigh. “Well, if you must know…There is…someone I’ve been spending time with.”
"Someone!" His friends chorus, delighted.
Mic nudges him gently. “Well? Don’t leave us in suspense!”
"Who is it? Do we know them?" Midnight leans forward, giggling.
Aizawa looks down at his glass for a moment, contemplating how much he should reveal. Although he feels a little overwhelmed by their excitement and their scrutiny, he also secretly relishes the joy of sharing this part of his life with his closest friends. 
It feels good, he thinks, to be around them and to know that they care so much about him. And though he’s never been one to discuss his personal affairs, he trusts these two enough to share the parts of himself he usually kept guarded. 
Seeing the expectant looks on their faces, eagerly awaiting his answer, Aizawa's ears turn the faintest shade of red. 
“Do you want to meet her?” 
_________________________________________
"Had a fun night?" You greet your boyfriend with a hug when he shows up at your door well past a reasonable hour.
You don't miss the small smile on his face when he takes off his shoes. "Actually, I did. But Yamada and Kayama were pretty insistent on meeting you." 
"You told them about me?" you respond, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. 
He nods, not quite meeting your gaze. "I think they'd like you."
"Really?" You plop down on the couch with him and stretch your legs atop his lap. 
"Yeah," He gently grazes your thigh. "They were wondering why I've been acting so differently lately."
"Like what?"
"Apparently I'm smiling more and acting nicer and" — He air quotes — “Stopped looking homeless."
You laugh. "And what did you say?"
He shrugs, “That I guess my girlfriend just makes me really happy.”
“Awww,” you pat his cheek playfully. “What’s next? You gonna tell me you’re in love with me or something?”
"Yes? I thought it was obvious?"
"What?" Your heart skips a beat at his nonchalant admission.
“Hmm?” He looks over, and seeing the evident surprise on your face makes Aizawa chuckle. "I thought I'd been making it pretty clear, but I suppose I should say it outright. Yes, I'm in love with you."
Your heart flutters at his words, a warmth spreading through you. "Well, for someone who's known for being so straightforward, you sure took your time saying that."
He brushes a strand of hair from your face and leaves a soft, lingering kiss on your temple. “I’ll say it as many times as you want to hear it, baby.”
You lean in closer, your lips almost touching his. “Alright,” you look up at him with a sleepy smile and half-lidded eyes. “I’m waiting.”
"I love you," he whispers, his voice low and tender. He places a gentle kiss on your nose. “I love you,” and then another on your cheeks…“I love you.” Before gently brushing his lips against yours, cupping your jaw so you can’t help but gaze deeply into his dark, smoky eyes before he finally closes the distance between you.
“Mhhm.” You smile, contentment washing over you like a gentle wave. "I love you, too, baby."
1K notes · View notes
Text
Sȳz Riña
Synopsis: When your two dragons catch you dancing with another Lord, it's safe to say neither is best pleased. Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!Reader x Rhaenyra Targaryen
Warnings: General HoTD shenanigans such as sexual themes-oral, penetration, spanking, threesome- incest, vulgar language, and the sort so please if any such things make you uncomfortable or if you're underage do not engage with this post or I will feed you to my dragon!
1,955 words
A/N: I'm just so down bad for these two I couldn't help it, I'm sorry!
Tumblr media
With your hand clasping tightly to the skirts of your dress you danced around the room in circles laughing politely with your partner, some Lannister Lord or another whose name you couldn’t really recall holding happily onto his hand while he spun you merrily around the marbled floor. Glancing towards the royal table you caught the gaze of your blatantly bored older sister from where she was perched beside the King, that was until your eyes drifted across instead capturing those of a dragon.
A fire was ablaze behind Daemon Targaryen’s violet eyes as he watched you floating across the floor with your hand entwined with another mans. Casting a glance to his side he saw his wife with a similar fire simmering behind her own as she tightly gripped her goblet taking a rather large drink of the sweet wine in an attempt to smother her own fire.
Having noticed them staring you smirked amused at the sight of your two dragons teetering on the verge of burning Kings Landing to the ground so you turned now wrapping your arm around the neck of the young Lord pressing yourself against him to whisper in his ear, “This has been lovely though I’m afraid I must cut our dance short my Lord.”
Before there was any chance of a reply a large hand was wrapped firmly around your wrist spinning you until you were faced with the leather-clad chest of Daemon. Your nameless Lord excused himself as the Rogue Prince’s wrathful glare bore down upon him, “Rhaenyra is quite tired, and it appears that you have had more than enough to drink Dōna Riña. We shall be retiring to our chambers for the night.” His voice was no more than a harsh whisper against your ear as the heat of his breath upon your face ignited something deep in your stomach. (Sweet Girl)
Staring up at him wide-eyed and pleading a sorrowful pout pulled at your lips, “But I’m having such a nice time with Lord Lannister, Ñuha Dārilaros.” Your voice dropped to a sultry purr at the end of your sentence knowing very well the effect your use of his ancestorial language had on the man. (My Prince)
His hand moved quick as a whip from your wrist to grasp the nape of your neck roughly yanking you closer to his strong body forcing you to face him, “Do not make me take you here in front of all these people.” Leaning down he pressed a searing kiss upon the shell of your ear before continuing, “We both know that I would do so with no quarrels.”
This pulled a whine from your parted lips knowing that he was being completely truthful and would gladly follow through on his threat, so you nodded. Seemingly satisfied with your submission he took a hold of your hand using it to lead you through the crowd of dancing bodies, into the halls of the Red Keep and all the way back to the chambers you were occupying where Rhaenyra was already awaiting the two of you.
Upon entry your eyes widened as you stared shamelessly at Rhaenyra whose bare body was proudly on display lounging across the bed her ringed fingers gently smoothing over the silken sheets. Your already hazy mind drifted even further at the sight of her unceremoniously dropping Daemons hand your steps quickening in your rush to launch yourself above her lips immediately seeking out her own.
She laughed softly at your antics before reciprocating your affections her soft pink lips now moving in tandem with your own, moaning against her you made a move to deepen the kiss only for her warm hands to take hold of your cheeks lifting your face so you could see each other, “I thought mayhap you would rather accompany Lord Lannister to his chambers tonight, Ñuha Jorrāelagon.” Despite her gentle tone, you could still see the poorly concealed embers simmering deep inside of her. (My Love)
Suddenly a pair of rough hands were lifting you from your position atop the Princess instead having you stand upon the cold stone floor of your chambers, “I have half a mind to go back out there and take that Lannister cunts head for the audacity to touch what is ours.” Daemons voice was firm with no hint of a jest in his voice as he spoke, his fingers expertly working to loosen the ties of your dress, “Don’t think you will not be paying for the fun you had yourself tonight.”
Due to the fact that he couldn’t possibly see your face you dared to roll your eyes at the overly possessive Prince, “I hardly think that I did anything wrong with a simple dance.” You drawled while accepting Rhaenyra’s offered hand as you stepped from the dress that now pooled around your feet, “You’d think I was on my knees sucking his cock for all to see with the way you are acting, Ñuha Dārilaros.” (My Prince)
No sooner had the words left your mouth did a soft yelp escape as Daemons hand harshly connected with the delicate flesh of your backside though it was promptly soothed by the soft hands of Rhaenyra, “The way his gaze never faltered from those marvellous tits of yours,” Daemons voice was deep with a mixture of anger and lust as his hand slithered up your body his fingers pinching cruelly at your pert nipple, “That is precisely what that cunt was thinking.”
Head shaking you decided to instead look down upon Rhaenyra your hands running smoothly over her shoulders as hers remained grasping the red flesh of your rear, “Please Nyra, speak sense to your husband.” Earning yourself yet another hard slap you huffed in feigned annoyance, “It was merely a dance, Ñuha Dāria.” (My Queen)
A contemplative noise left her as her hands ran around your body rubbing at the softness of your pillowy thighs while she slowly parted them from her seated position on the bed, “Mayhap our Sweet Girl is right, Valzȳrys.” Rhaenyra’s carnal stare held you captive as she moved to feather open mouthed kisses over your mound completely avoiding where you needed her the most, “It was after all merely a dance.” (Husband)
A jovial grin spread across your pretty face at her words your hand weaving itself through the bright tresses desperately urging her closer till she happily darted her wet tongue out to tease over your needy clit.
Palms still full of your heaving breasts Daemon removed his face from where it had been nestled into your neck delivering a series of delicious kisses and dizzying bites, “You are too quick to give into her every demand, Ābrazȳrys.” Despite his chiding words he easily manoeuvred you from the warmth of Rhaenyra’s mouth before carefully tossing you into the centre of the large bed. (Wife)
Finding himself as the only one remaining clothed you watched with heavy breaths as Daemon started slowly removing his garments starting firstly with Dark Sister which was hanging comfortably from his lithe hips, “Nyra..” Whining pleadingly for her she smirked crawling over to you till she lay with an elbow propping her up greedily taking your hard nipple into her mouth.
“Spread your legs.” Before you even had the chance to comprehend the command your legs had fallen open of their own volition as Daemon loomed above you his leaking cock heavy in his hand, stroking it as his sinful eyes never wavered from the attack Rhaenyra was laying upon your tits, “There’s our Good Girl.”
“Sȳz Riña.” Rhaenyra purred her agreement as she removed herself from you swinging her leg over your body and positioning herself to straddle your chest while her hands lovingly caressed your heated face. (Good Girl)
The intrusion of Daemon's finger entering you had your eyes widening and a wanton moan clawing from deep inside you, “I’m going to fuck you.” He spoke clearly his chin sitting atop Rhaenyra’s shoulder allowing him to stare down at your flushed face for any sign of discomfort as he added another finger beginning to thrust them slowly into your sopping hole, “And you are going to make Nyra cum on your tongue before you even think about cumming. Do you understand, Dōna Riña?” (Sweet Girl)
Nodding your head frantically your hands gripped Rhaenyra’s plush thighs in an attempt to pull her closer to your mouth, “I understand, Ñuha Dārilaros.” Grunting his approval Daemon disappeared from your sight moments before he was thrusting his hard cock deep inside your tight hole, “Fuck..” Taking this as her cue Rhaenyra turned herself around before lowering herself softly onto your face her hands fondling with your tits willingly taking everything that you had to offer her.
Tossing herself forward in her throes of pleasure Rhaenyra’s hips worked hard as she ground herself energetically against your skilled tongue that worked fervently to bring forth her release, her own tongue tangled against that of her husband the pair sharing a passionate kiss full of love and lust while Daemons thick cock was fucking into you at a brutal pace leading you to a fast-approaching high.
“Don’t stop Sweet Girl, you’re doing so well!” Moaning noisily Rhaenyra’s damp forehead pressed upon her husband’s strong shoulder as pleasure slowly overtook her, “Fuck, right there!” Removing a hand from her thigh you coated two fingers in her wetness before pushing them into her quivering hole which is all it took for the dam to break her sinful cries echoing throughout the room while you fucked her gently through her high.
Rhaenyra’s limp body collapsed beside you her head resting comfortably on your still-heaving chest her hand snaking to join her husband’s cock as his thrust became harder his hand moving to apply pressure to the delicate column of your throat, “Such a fucking Good Girl making her Queen cum so hard.” Keening happily at his praise you clenched around him as Rhaenyra’s expert fingers worked circles against your throbbing clit, “Fuck! I shall fill your pretty cunt full of my dragonseed.” Groaning as you gripped him tighter his body lowered capturing your lips in a searing kiss being sure to do the same to his wife as her ministrations against you sped up, “Would Īlva Sȳz Riña like that?” (Our Good Girl)
“Please..” Whimpering your hand tugged harshly against his silver locks the merciless pounding of his cock driving you impossibly closer to the edge of your high, “I want it all. Kostilus, Ñuha Dārilaros.” Your breathy words seemed to have their desired effect as the muscled body above you tensed a series of vulgar grunts leaving his parted lips as he fucked you full of his cum which was enough to tip you over the edge your tight cunt clenching around him milking every drop until his exhausted body slumped atop you. (Please, My Prince)
Laughing quietly at the sight Rhaenyra removed her hand from between the two of you moving from the bed to clean herself before returning mere minutes later with a damp cloth in hand, “Let her breathe Daemon!” Chastising him she shoved the larger man from you till he lay breathless and panting beside you while she cleaned you carefully aware of how sensitive you were, “That’s much better Dōna Riña.” (Sweet Girl)
Settling herself into your side she scattered mellow kisses all across your blissful face, “If I see that cunt so much as look at you again, I shall take Dark Sister to his head.” Having regained his breath Daemon grumbled earnestly rolling onto his side to kiss your temple his arm laying across your waist positioning you flush against him his hand rubbing patterns into the skin of Rhaenyra’s hip.
1K notes · View notes
awfcspencer · 3 months
Text
Pretty Heart || alexia putellas x reader
Tumblr media
alexia putellas x reader
prompt: Alexia outside stone cold persona doesn’t match the Alexia you see.
warnings: none!
Alexia took her role as captain for Barcelona very seriously. It was an absolute honor to represent her team as the captain, dreaming about times like this when she was a young girl. Alexia worked her tail off in training and in matches to gain the respect of fans, her coaches, and her teammates. She was herself’s biggest supporter and critic.
At training, Alexia was stone cold, not in a mean way by any measure of the word, but in a way of expecting the best out of her teammates. She would offer tips and advice on how to better her teammates. She never said anything she wouldn’t do herself, often times staying after on the pitch to get a few more dribbling exercises in and shooting drills. She wanted to lead by example. She typically never goofed off or really laughed during training and this only added to her serious persona as captain. On the pitch, she was focused on a single goal, get better each day.
When Alexia brought you around her teammates for the first time to say that they were surprised would be an understatement. You were loud, always joking around, and had a smile locked on your face. The complete opposite of what they usually saw from Alexia. But unlike they thought, it was not a case of opposites attract.
At home, away from the pitch, Alexia was the sweetest girl you had ever met, and she had the prettiest and biggest heart. On her way home from training, she would pick you up flowers and your favorite chocolate so often that you were running out of vases to put them in. Alexia was also incredibly happy whenever she got home to you, hoping to shower and cuddle you the rest of the night. She really liked to leave football at the door when she arrived home, completely separating work life and love life. Just as the way your smile never left your face, Alexia always had a smile plastered on her face when she was around you. You lit up Alexia’s life, just as much as she lit up your life.
Alexia was also one of the funniest people ever, often telling her that if football doesn’t work out that she would make bank as a comedian. Alexia had a way of adding one-liners to your guys conversations that made you laugh until you had tears in your eyes and your abs hurt. The secret was that Alexia loved to make you laugh, your laugh warmed her heart and she could listen to your laugh all day every day. Simply just music to her ears.
For this particular Barcelona match, you were getting a small dinner after to celebrate and meet a few of her teammates a bit better. You understood slightly that Alexia was a little two sided, one side with you and one side with her teammates, but you unaware at the drastic difference.
At the table was you, Alexia, Lucy, Ona, Mapi, and Ingrid. It was a low key, in the wall sort of restaurant, hoping to have a quiet night and enjoy one another’s company. Conversations flowed effortlessly at the table.
“So, what is Alexia like at home? Does she boss you around like she does us?” Lucy asks you in a joking manner.
“What? Definitely not. If anything, I have to always get on her to remember to do her laundry or the dishes.” You tell the group. It is interesting to hear that Alexia is so different between with you and with her teammates.
“I can not imagine Alexia being captained around.” Mapi adds. Mapi was probably the next closest person to really know Alexia and she was still widely unaware of Alexia’s true soft nature. At this point in the conversation, Alexia has a deep red blush on her cheeks and while the other members of the dinner were unaware, she was clutching your hand as she played with the rings on your hand under the table. If anyone were to see Alexia now, they wouldn’t be able to even fathom that she was a serious captain who believed in a ‘work hard play hard’ mentality.
“I guess Alexia is just a two-sided mystery.” you joke out, now fully understanding the vast difference of character.
The dinner carried on as did the conversations. Whenever you made small comments or little stories about your Alexia, her teammates could now see the fun, joking, and sweet side of Alexia. She would crack jokes at the table and she slowly came out of her captaincy shell. The dinner was finished and you had a lovely time, giving everyone a quick hug before walking out with Alexia.
When you both returned home, you wanted to ask Alexia about it.
“Hey Ale, why do your teammates make it seem like you are some hard-nosed captain that has like a no fun zone sign on your head” you questioned to her.
“I am their captain baby, I want to be respected.” she answered as if it was completely simple.
While you understood the point she was trying to make, it did make you a little sad at the thought that they didn’t really know the true Alexia. The Alexia that cried at any dog movie where the dog dies. The Alexia that refused to go to bed until she got a proper kiss goodnight. The Alexia that had to be holding your hand or really just be in your space 24/7. The Alexia that whined like a baby when you would leave to go to work, complaining as the bed was too cold when you left her side. Your Alexia.
“I get it, I do. But maybe if you showed a little bit more of you, your pretty heart baby, then it could honestly help the team more. You know like showing even the captain is human.” you explained to her.
“Yeah maybe, but I am only agreeing because you’re too cute to make upset.” she stated as she moved you and her to the couch so you two can cuddle and continue your binge watch of Love Island.
This is where you knew Alexis was most relaxed and comfortable, beside you, in your shared private home. A small fuzzy blanket thrown over the two of you as her hands found yours. Giving her a small kiss on the temple before beginning the episode.
792 notes · View notes
flamingpudding · 2 months
Note
I just got done reading the prompt that I asked you about and it's wonderful thank you so much and if you're okay with it I'm here to help you make a part two but if you don't want to do that that's okay I'm just adding some bonus to it.
I'm just imagining Danny full Ghost King attire showing up with two things to cookies one with kryptonite in them cuz I love the head can of ghosts eating good tonight like candy and the other set a normal batch of chocolate chip cookies. Looking down Young Justice being like in the most Patrick electric entity sounding voice with a country accent "I'm so just the cutest oddiest little berries on the bush" (sorry just speaking in my little country Danny headcannon)
But I can also see Danny being embarrassing for Klarion. Danny sit down the two trains of cookies Evan just start hugging and kissing his son on his head like the embarrassing mom he is talking about how he's so skinny and he should eat more. Also really nice to Young Justice it's like them realizing they just might by the end of the day be adopted by enemies mom.
Justice League is getting to the location ready to fight and do what they can just for a Young Justice member with a cookie in hand to walk up and explain and tell them to play along for free cookies.
RedRobin badly wants to try one of the kryptonite cookies to see what it would do if he ate it. Klarion keeps stopping him because as much as he doesn't like them he doesn't want RedRobin to die.
Who I'm just adding on a couple of things really love your writing though oh yeah what are your pronouns so I can know to refer to you as just asking.
So glad you liked it and no problem i don't mind at all. I was thinking about adding a part two honestly. Well then lets continue the shenanigans. I hope this part two won't disappoint either. And out of courtesy for once added people who asked for tags in the comments. Don't get used to it. I usually don't to tags. This is an exception for this awesome prompt idea.
--------------
The moment a Lazarus green portal started to open in the Living Room, Red Robin suffered a small, probably slightly traumatic, flashbacks to all the times he had seen the Lazarus Pits, but before he could even react Klarion tackled him to the ground with a distinctive hiss of "Play alone." His friends, the traitors, had managed to doge Klarion. Impulse had simple used his speed to step aside and Superboy apparently had headed a warning. Wonder Girl hadn't even been in the path of Klarions tackle. So this was why Red Robin was currently the only one getting sort of wrestled and put into a headlock on the ground in a hold he knew he could easily get out of but was to distracted by the ceiling high, eldritch as well as royal looking being stepped out of it.
The portal closed behind that being and Red Robin swallowed seeing six eyes in inky black that mirrored the night sky blink down at them.
"Klarion?" The static voice ringed in their ears and from the corner of his eyes Red Robin saw Superboy flinch visibly.
"Mom! Your early!" Red Robins head hit the floor as Klarion suddenly let him go to greet the being that's apparently his mother. He glared at the witch boy for that as he sat up and rubbed his had.
"Oh my, sorry my dear." Superboy flinched again, and Red robin could hear Impulse whispering to Wonder Girl if he was the only one seeing four mouths talk at the same time. Klarion appeared to have it heard to as he send them a quick glare over his shoulder before turning back to his mother.
"Mom, could you tune down on the eldritch?" Red Robin blinked stunned before seeing the bing apparently blush green in embarrassment and its form changing until there stood a man, about Red Hoods height still with a floating crown and a royal cape, but at least more human like and resembling Klarion but with more blueish skin before them.
"Sorry baby, I thought my royal appearance would make a better first impression." The man pinched the witch boys cheek lovingly, to witch Klarion whined out a drawn out "Mom."
The four young heroes couldn't help but stare, was that seriously their villain Klarion? The one that tried to cause chaos and make their lives difficult on regular basis?
"Klarion. Why is there a magic barrier around your apartment." The man in royal clothing suddenly asked and they blinked seeing Klarion flinch and laugh nervously. "Oh you know mom, keeping the bonding in one place so other mortals won't be bothered." To which the man cooed. He cooed!
"Bonding? What bonding?" The four heroes echoed blinked and exchanged stunned and confused looks. Bonding? What Bonding? What were they talking about? Sure they hadn't gotten a lot of explanations out of Klarion before that portal opened and apparently his entire act about his mother visiting was the true. It was clear that the witch boy's mother was some kind of other worldly being but it looked like there was more to it. Also considering the royal like outfit and the grown.... did that mean that they had been dealing with a prince of some kind as villain the entire time.
Suddenly the man bristled turning to glare at them back in his eldritch form towering over them. "Are you telling me you mortals have been ignoring my sons bonding?! And that is why my son's bonds don't appear to be properly formed?!"
They flinched back staring at that being that was now back to locking eldritch horror like with a crown and royal cape. Their eyes were locked onto the being, only distantly they realised that Klarion was pulling on his mother hissing something that sounded very much just like static to their ears. It to a while longer but finally the being drew back staring what sounded like a static filled discussion with Klarion and Impulse was pretty sure he had been ready to sully himself if it had taken any longer,
Apparently Klarion and his mother finished their exchanged as they both turned to them, his mom now again more human like looking. "Mom these are my friends. The punk looking guy is Superboy the half alien, Red Robin the one in red and black, you know Dinner boy. Impulse from the Flash-Clan and Wonder Girl one of the Amazonian. Guys this is my mom, Ghost King of the Infinite Realms."
Red Robin couldn't help the eye twitch at his introduction, he also noticed that Impulse flinched back as the mans eyes locked onto him and he didn't need Superboy's confirmation of having heard a grumble about 'why did it have to be a speedster'. Great so this eldritch being, apparently King and most likely a danger and possible hostile did not like one of them already. Why did Klarion ask them to play pretend friends again?
"Well I will be, you have quiet the colourful and oddest batch of fleshy mortals here." The man grinned at them, that were sharp teeth the four heroes observed. "Titles are a bit stuffy, feel free to call me Danny kids. Now come here. I brought some cookies with me."
Before they knew it the four of them were seated on the couch with a huge plate of cookies on the coffee table before them. The four of them blinked at the two kinds of cookies. Impulse was already reaching out to them fearlessly but Wonder Girl had the foresight to stop their friend for the moment. Superboy on the other hand appeared to look quiet queasy and was slowly turning green to the worry of Red robin. They noticed Klarion turning towards his Mom when he took note of this. "Mom! I have a Kryptonian friend! Why did you bring cookies with kryptonite chunks! Look! Superboy is turning green just looking at them."
The Ghost King, now known by the name Danny to them, appeared to be waving his son. "Oh he will be fine in a moment its not enough to completely bother his species, he will just be more human like till you ate all of them. These ones are more for you anyway, you are way to thin lately." Danny then turned to them with a smile. "Please feel free to eat the chuckles chip once. I can guarantee they are human friendly. My sister helped me make them. She is a liminal human."
That was all Impulse needed to rip his wrist free and stuff the first of the chocolate chips cookies into his mouth. "They are good!"
Danny smiled at them satisfied, and with that out of the way started to make small talk with them while also embarrassing his son with occasional comments like. "Oh you should have seen when Klarion first got Teekl." Or "He nearly burned down our entire castle when he started actually learning magic." Or "He used to be such a grumpy adult until he deaged and became such a cute grumpy little baby boy. Want to see photos?"
They never got to see photos to Wonder Girls disappointment. Klarion managed to cut in between suffering embarrassment and glaring at them for encouraging his mother to tell more embarrasing stories and forced the portal, his mother was going to reach into for the photos, to close.
By now the teens have become more relaxed around Danny. The man had a friendly charm to him and genuinely showed an interest in them as well as in the well bing of his son. They could understand why Klarion didn't want to disappoint a parent like that. They snacked on the cookies and Red Robin watched with interest whenever Klarion and Danny reached for one of the cookies with green Kryptonite chunks. Danny had mentioned off handedly in one of his stories of Klarion that they both used to be normal humans. Red Robin was very interested in this right now.
Suddenly Superboy elbowed Impulse and Red Robin, having caught the movement turned to them with an arched eyebrow. "Mentors." The other mouthed to them and they sighed, of course their mentors would show up sooner or later. They shared a glance and Red Robin took on the task to subtitle inform Klarion since they were sitting next to each other when Impulse excused himself to a toilet break shortly.
Red Robin used that quick distraction to reach towards the cookie plate.
Meanwhile Impulse came to a stop in front of the front door stopped by his foot from slamming shut behind him again, thankfully Klarion had removed his magic barrier that could have made this difficult. He had one cookie in hand and grinned up at their mentors and the Justice League Dark members.
"Hi everyone!" He greeted them cheerfully, taking a bite of his cookie.
"Impulse? Are you okay? What happened?!" Flash was instantly on the teen checking him over for any sort of injury. They were prepared to fight since Deadman had reported the location where the Ghost King had appeared. They had chosen to halt their search for the missing teens for the moment but had paled when Superman had mentioned he was hearing their voices from the same location.
"Oh i am fine! Great even. Did you know that there are other dimensions that have melon flavoured chips?" Impulse easily answered grinning. "Also you might wanna dile back on the battle ready aura you guys radiate. Klarions mom is visiting, pretty awesome guy."
"Klarion? The witch boy?" Wonder Woman asked stunned to which Impulse nodded. "Yea, pretty nice guy. Ghost King of a dimension that holds everything together like glue. Kinda badass."
"Bloody fucking..." Batman glared at Constantine who swallowed the rest of his curse. "The hell you mean the Ghost King is badass? That a fucking tyrannical blood hungry war maniac!"
Impulse blinked at them. "Really? I mean he does have scary form that made me nearly piss myself but he is pretty chill. Awesome parent, we get why Klarion loves his mom so much now."
The blond Brite pinched the bridge of his nose letting out a suffering sigh. "Just let us in mate, we will deal with this before our dimension can kiss its arse goodbye."
Impulse appeared to be thinking for a moment before shaking his head. "Uh nope. We are having a good time actually. A nice break. Sooooo no!" Before Flash or anyone else could react impulse stepped back closing the door into their faces. They blinked stunned, Batman was the first to recover stepped towards the door to attempt to open it only for his lockpick to be deflected by a red barrier suddenly appearing. The man growled turning to glare at the Justice League Dark members with a silent comment.
Inside the apartment a little bit earlier....
Klarion snatched another green glowing cookie from Red Robins hands with a glare at the other teen, who only glared back. Danny was watching them amused feeling reminded of himself and Tucker by their interaction. But then his attention turned to Wonder Girl as she asked for another story about Klarions childhood.
A moment later Klarion felt a nudge and looked at Superboy who nudged him across a pouting Red Robin who got another green glowing cookie snatched from him. The witch boy arched an eyebrow when Superboy asked to recreated the barrier to keep their mentors out but did so the moment Impulse was back with them with already three new chocolate cookies in hand as he joined Wonder Girl in fishing for more stories.
691 notes · View notes
roosterforme · 3 months
Text
The Younger Kind Part 44 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley swallows his pride and seeks out a conversation with Admiral Simpson, but he's surprised by the response he gets. You keep everyone on their toes, and you do it so effortlessly, Bradley knows it's time to go shopping. And he uses Skittles as the perfect cover.
Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, smut, and age gap (18+)
Length: 4000 words
Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader
Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.
Tumblr media
When Bradley parked at work a little early on Monday, he sat in the Bronco for a few extra minutes. He had just witnessed you and Noah making breakfast together, and it was making it really hard to be away from you right now. When he walked into the kitchen, you were brewing coffee and singing the dinosaur song with his son while the two of you spread that weird avocado stuff that you liked so much on some toast. He had started to love it, too, and Noah would eat anything you made. 
He removed his aviators and pinched the bridge of his nose. There was so much he wanted to get done this week, including looking at a few engagement rings, but he knew better than to make any sort of excuses to get some time alone. That had nearly backfired on him when he went to get Skittles. He was going to have to get creative somehow.
When he pulled out his phone to call the animal shelter about getting Skittles' cast removed, he froze. Across the parking lot, Nat and Javy were both getting out of his car. "Interesting," he muttered to himself as he watched his best friend groping their coworker, and he grimaced. He'd already seen too much. 
"Hello, this is the San Diego shelter. How can I help you?"
Bradley nearly dropped his phone; he'd forgotten he was making the call. "Yeah, hi. I need to schedule an appointment to have my dog's cast removed?"
"Oh! Are you talking about the Yorkie?"
He smiled as he climbed out onto the already hot pavement. "Yeah. Skittles. I'm hoping she has sufficiently healed."
"Why don't you stop in on Wednesday and we can check her out."
"Sounds good, thanks," he replied, following Nat and Javy at a very conservative distance. But apparently he wasn't cautious enough. 
"So," Nat sighed once Bradley joined her in the hangar, "you saw Javy and I in the parking lot." It wasn't a question, so he decided to just nod and roll his eyes in response. "Oh, come on, Rooster. I'm just having some fun."
"Look at him," Bradley muttered, glancing to where the man in question was smiling at Nat. "Are you serious right now? You want to make him cry or something?"
Now she was the one rolling her eyes. "I'm not taking advice from you. You're historically terrible at dating."
"I'm doing a pretty good job now," he said, smiling as he thought about you.
"You can't even get Cyclone off your girl."
Bradley covered his face with one big palm. "You noticed that?"
Nat laughed. "Everyone at the botanic gardens on Saturday night noticed that."
"Fuck," he groaned. "If she wasn't so young and so fucking hot, I wouldn't be about to embarrass myself by trying to get him to let me fly in the air show."
She just shook her head as she reached for her helmet and muttered, "Oh, cry me a river."
"Hey." Bradley turned just in time to see Javy greeting the two of them like a puppy looking for Nat's attention. He was honestly worse than Skittles at the moment. "The guys are talking about a beach day this weekend. You know, since the summer is ending."
"We don't need to do another beach day. We live in San Diego," Nat replied as she sipped the coffee she wasn't supposed to have inside the hangar. "It's the same season all year round."
Javy laughed like she was a comedian, and Bradley looked back and forth between the two of them, completely baffled by this dynamic. There's no way you and he made a couple this wild. 
"Yeah, but it's still the end of August," Javy said, now smiling at Nat as if she was the most adorable thing in the world. "Rooster, you can bring your girl and your kid. It'll be fun."
"You know what," he replied, "I think I'll go if Nat goes."
Then Bradley strolled away as they started arguing, because he saw Admiral Simpson on his way to the tower. He just needed to get Cyclone alone for a few minutes, swallow his pride, and try to head Jake off for the air show. The opportunity arose after lunch when Bradley caught him checking his phone outside the rec room door.
"Admiral Simpson, sir," he greeted before grinding his back teeth while he thought about you. "May I have a word?"
Cyclone glanced up before pocketing his phone, a look of vague amusement on his face. "Lieutenant. What can I do for you?"
"It's about the upcoming air show. Sir. I was hoping you could tell me if you'd made selections regarding who would be flying in it."
His look of amusement grew. "I have not. I believe that was on my agenda for today or tomorrow." He paused before adding, "I've been meaning to thank you for that glass of bourbon on Saturday night. Woodford Reserve is one of my favorites."
Bradley remained unflinching. Although he had no idea what Admiral Simpson was talking about, he thought it better to simply agree with him. "Yes. The Woodford Reserve." 
He nearly took a step backwards when the other man started laughing. "You'll have to thank your girlfriend for me, too. And I'm assuming the reason you're here is because you want to fly in the air show?"
"Yes...sir," Bradley replied slowly, feeling very off balance now that Cyclone was being so agreeable. 
Still chuckling, he said, "I'll see what I can do," before turning and walking away. 
Once he was out of earshot, Bradley pushed through the door to the rec room as he muttered, "What the fuck was that?"
-----------------------------
It was almost fun for you to pick Noah up from daycare now. Not that you would ever admit that out loud. But the enjoyment you found in the way Casey pouted at you was a bit of a guilty pleasure, and besides, you got to have Noah greet you like you were the most exciting and interesting person in the world.
"Mommy!" he called out as he ran across the lobby and into your arms. "Guess what my craft is!"
"A dinosaur?" you asked as you shot an extremely fake smile at Casey before heading outside.
"Nope."
"A... dog? Did you make Skittles?" you asked as you put him in your car.
"Nope."
"The solar system?"
"Nope."
"Hmm. Will you give me a hint?" you asked, brushing his soft curls away from his forehead and giving him a kiss. But he was already unzipping his bag and pulling out his newest painting. There was a big, light blue shape that looked like it could have been Bradley's Bronco along with a man who appeared to be sporting a mustache. "Is that Daddy?"
"Yes!"
Then you noticed a little brown blob. "Is that Skittles?"
"Yes! She's his best friend!"
You laughed, because Noah wasn't wrong. Skittles seemed to love Bradley the most, and as much as he tried to fight it, the dog won him over. "She is," you agreed before buckling him in. "She's his best friend besides Aunt Natasha."
Noah shook his head. "She doesn't count, because she's an Aunt."
"Right, right," you said, not wanting to fight his childhood logic when Skittles wasn't even a human. "You're completely right. Should we go home?"
You started singing the dinosaur song as you drove, and because of a detour, you had to drive past the park where Meredith had chased you down. A shiver rippled through your body as you remembered falling and scraping up your arm in your haste to get Noah safely in your car. You hated coming home this way. There was a reason you never did it.
"Mommy, why did you stop singing?"
You glanced in the mirror at Noah's face. "Sorry! Where were we? The part about how the dinosaur stomp, stomp, stomps?"
Bradley was already home when you pulled into the driveway, and you found him dozed off on the couch with Skittles curled up on his chest. Two seconds later, he was jolting awake with the dog in his hand as Noah ran for him. "Daddy! I made you! Out of paint!"
"Cool," Bradley told him, pulling Noah onto his broad chest as well. "And how's Mommy?" he asked, his voice a little raspier just for you. "How was your day, Princess?"
You shook off the last remaining thoughts of Casey and Meredith as you leaned down to kiss him. "Pretty good." He chased your lips for more, but his arms were too full of Noah and Skittles for him to be able to reach for you. "Looks like you're still tired from the weekend," you said with a wink.
"I had a nice conversation with Cyclone today." 
"Oh? About what?" you asked as you started to head to the kitchen to make dinner. 
His expression remained completely neutral as he told you, "Bourbon. Woodford Reserve, to be specific." When you said nothing, he added, "We can chat about it later."
So you made spaghetti, knowing you'd been found out. You had been tipsy on Saturday night at the retirement party, but you were pretty sure you remembered what you did. Probably. You hoped Bradley wasn't mad at you over it, but he seemed to be in a good mood as he ate dinner and offered to give Noah a bath while you walked Skittles. 
She was stubborn for you at first, plopping down on the front porch and whimpering for Bradley while you tugged gently on her leash. "Come on. You're making me look bad! You were my idea. Mine and Noah's." When she remained in her spot, you had to reach into your pocket and say, "Treat?" That did the trick, and you got her to take a slow lap around the block with you while you broke a milkbone into little bites and gave it to her. 
When you returned home, Skittles bounded into the house to get to Bradley where he was sitting on the bathroom floor, looking comically enormous with Noah's rubber duck in his hand. You stood in the doorway and watched him automatically reach down to pet the little pup, taking caution with her casted leg while he rinsed the shampoo out of Noah's hair. 
"You want to go to the beach this weekend, Bub?" he asked softly. "With Aunt Natasha?"
"Can Skittles come?" Noah asked, and you watched Bradley place a soft kiss on his wet forehead that left you reeling. Suddenly you couldn't wait for Noah to be in bed so you could have him all to yourself. 
"Maybe. If she gets her cast off on Wednesday," he replied softly as the dog fully plopped down with her head on his thigh. 
"Daddy?" you asked from your spot in the doorway. It was almost a whine, and when he looked up at you, you were certain he knew what you were thinking about by the little smirk on his lips.
He reached into the tub to drain the water as he asked, "Do you need some attention?"
You just nodded, still in your scrubs from work, but you felt too warm now as you pressed your thighs together. "Yes."
"Fifteen minutes, and then you can have it," he replied with an edge to his voice. "Can you wait that long?"
"I can try," you murmured before you turned to go into Noah's room and get his dinosaur pajamas ready. Anything to expedite bedtime. You listened while Bradley took his time reading three stories, and then you kissed Noah's forehead before you tried to pull Bradley toward the hallway.
He chuckled and whispered, "I'll meet you on the couch."
"Oooh, the couch," you said before running from the room. Before you could even decide what you wanted to do, Bradley was behind you wrapping his arms around your waist and tickling your neck with his mustache.
"I kind of miss those nights when I would help you study."
You moaned softly. "Anatomy really is your specialty."
You felt him pull his right hand away from your body, but before you could complain, it reappeared in front of you with a bag of Skittles on his palm. When you spun in his arms and kissed him, you whispered, "You're so sweet."
Bradley lifted you up and took you the few steps to the couch where you settled in straddling his lap while you opened your candy. "If you're this excited about something I picked up at the gas station, I wonder what you'll do if I buy you something a little more expensive."
You met his soft eyes and leaned in to kiss him. "How much more expensive are we talking?" you asked, treating him to the orange Skittle you pulled out of the bag. He parted his lips and you slipped it between them, watching his jaw work as he chewed it up. 
"A lot more expensive," he replied as you ate three candies. "Hey, this is a 50/50 relationship here, Princess."
You shoved a small handful into his mouth and kissed his cheeks as he sputtered and chewed. "I'll share everything I have with you. Too bad I don't have much."
Bradley swallowed down the treat and reached for your free hand. "You give me everything I need. Everything I want, too."
You basked in the warmth of his words as your eyes closed, and a welcome heat crept into your cheeks. "I love you."
"Then I think you'll love what I'm planning on buying for you," he whispered as his mustache grazed your chin and jaw. 
You grinned, hoping you already knew what he was talking about, but too afraid to say it out loud. So you pushed the thought from your mind and scooted a little closer toward him on his lap. "What's this I'm hearing about a beach day? And Skittles getting her cast off? This is all news to me."
He didn't miss a beat as he wrapped his big hands around your hips and said, "What's this I'm hearing about some bourbon at the retirement party? It's all news to me."
"Oh," you whispered softly before eating more Skittles, buying yourself a little time to think. "Well, you see... I wasn't exactly sober."
"You're joking," he deadpanned. 
You rolled your eyes and shoved more candy into his mouth. "I may have had a glass of bourbon sent over to Admiral Simpson, courtesy of Lieutenant Bradshaw and his girlfriend..."
After a few quiet blinks, Bradley's head tipped back in laughter so loud that Skittles the pup came running into the room. "You didn't!" Bradley said. "I have to work with that man!" 
"Somebody had to make the big move, Daddy! It cleared the tension!"
He met your eyes, still shaking his head and smirking. "It also made you look like Daddy's good little girl."
Your heart skipped around in your chest at his words, and you set your candy aside in favor of wrapping your arms around his neck. "Am I not? Daddy's good little girl?"
"Oh, you absolutely are," he replied as he lifted your top inch by inch. "I just never thought my boss's boss would see it that way." 
You raised your hands up in the air, eager to lose your shirt, but he took his sweet time about it. "Daddy."
"You can be patient," he whispered, smiling when he saw your purple bra. "Pretty." Your top dropped to the floor as he cupped you through the lace, finding your nipples right away. "You feel like going to the beach on Saturday?"
Bradley's lips found the tops of your breasts, and you could no longer formulate real words. You just hummed in response already knowing he was going to take expert care of you right now and on Saturday as well.
"You could wear your purple bikini and tell all the other guys to fuck off," he said as he ran his nose softly along your skin while he unhooked your bra and let it fall next to your top. 
"Would you like that?" you asked as your fingers tangled up in his hair. He answered you by nodding as he took your nipple between his lips. Bradley was all big hands on your bare skin and just the perfect amount of roughness. "Oh god," you whined. 
And then he had you on your back in the middle of the area rug with his body over yours. His thigh was rubbing you through your thin pants, and you bucked up gently against him as his heavy weight pressed deliciously against your body. "I love you," he grunted as you tugged at his hair. 
"I love you so much, Daddy," you gasped as he yanked your pants and underwear down and off, leaving you in only your socks. He fumbled with the front of his pants for just a few seconds before pulling his length free, and you spread your legs wide for him.
His lips and tongue were wet on your neck as you held him close, lost in the domesticity of having sex here now. Just like your first time with him. Right next to the snag in the rug. But this time you could hear Skittles' claws tapping across the kitchen floor, and you could see some of Noah's crayons that had rolled under the couch while Bradley fucked you. You could smell the lingering scent of the pasta sauce from the dinner you made. You could taste Bradley's now familiar tongue as it met yours. And you could feel his rough hands on your hips and belly where he'd now touched you hundreds of times. 
You fell in love with the flood of familiarity he brought to your senses, and it left you smiling up at him when he broke the kiss. "Jesus," he grunted, cupping one cheek in his hand. You kissed the side of his thumb as he stroked your skin, and you watched him slowly come undone for you. "I'll get you there," he promised, changing his angle so he rubbed your clit with each movement.
Just like the first time, he filled you up as soon as you came, and your name was all over his lips as you smiled at the lost crayons before closing your eyes. Bradley collected you against his body as he eased himself down onto his side, and you sighed contentedly. You held onto his wrist as he ran his hand along your hair and kissed you. In that moment you would have agreed to anything he said. 
"Baby, I'll be a little late on Wednesday night. I have to take Skittles to get her cast off, and then I need to stop at the store."
You hummed softly in response, pressing your lips to his. "Sounds good."
------------------------------
The only time Bradley heard from you on Wednesday was when you told him that one of your patients came in with an emergency, and you wanted to let him know you'd be helping Dr. Kelly with a minor surgical procedure. He was excited for you, but he didn't want to bother you. Even though he had good news.
"Congrats," Jake drawled in the locker room after a very long day of flying. "Don't know how you managed to pull this one off, but I heard you're flying in the air show."
Bradley ran his towel over his chest before tossing it into his locker. "Thanks," he grunted, trying not to smile. He'd be able to take you on the tour of the hospital with him, and then you and Noah could watch him fly. His son had never seen him in the air before, and it gave Bradley goosebumps knowing that the two of you would be able to do that together. 
Jake gave him one last appraising look before he got dressed. Honestly, it was probably the fact that you upped the ante with Cyclone that Bradley was chosen over the others. Perhaps now things could be called even. You managed to keep everyone on their toes in the best way, and it made him smile even now. 
You were in rare form this week, luring him in for living room floor sex when there was a perfectly new bed in the bedroom. And then last night, you got him to watch a Disney princess movie with you, even after Noah was in bed, and Bradley had begrudgingly enjoyed it. You were laying across his lap on your back when the end credits rolled, and you said, "If you're a good boy, I'll make you beignets just like Princess Tiana."
Bradley had smirked. "Do those have cream filling?"
"No," you whispered as he eased your shirt up so his palm was flat on your belly. 
"Do you want some?" 
He had been thinking about getting you pregnant as he made you bury your face in the couch pillows to keep you quiet.
And that was just one of the many reasons he was about to leave work and head home to grab Skittles before stopping at the jewelry store across town. If Casey managed to bump into there and ruin this surprise as well, he would probably lose his mind. But the jeweler near the animal shelter was one of the best in the city, so that was where he would go. 
Bradley awkwardly held Skittles while he drove, and eventually she curled up with her head on his thigh while he sat in traffic. She seemed to be doing great, so he hoped that was a good sign that the cast could come off. You and Noah were delighted with her, and she somehow made Bradley fall in love, too. 
"Yeah, you're sweet," he told her, scratching her behind the ears while he drove. He parallel parked the Bronco with one hand while he continued to pet her, and when he took her inside the shelter, he held onto her a little tighter. It was hard to believe she'd been here just a few weeks ago, completely unwanted. 
Bradley pressed kisses to the top of her head as he waited for the receptionist to finish her phone call. When she hung up, she asked, "And who do we have here?"
"Skittles Bradshaw," he replied, nuzzling his nose against her fur and wondering how on earth he had gotten so attached to this little pup. "Hopefully she can get her cast off today."
He only had to wait a few minutes, and then he watched as they examined her before cutting into the cast plaster. Once she was free, Skittles took a few tentative steps across the exam table, and then she jumped right back into Bradley's arms. 
After he paid the monstrous bill for such a small creature, he carried her down the sidewalk, enjoying the cooling temperature as the sun set. When he checked his phone, he saw that you'd finally texted him again.
My Princess: Noah and I are going to play at the park near the beach. Leftovers when you get home?
He typed out a quick message letting you know that sounded perfect. Thoughts of you and Noah together filled his mind as he entered the jewelry store, and two women looked up at him and Skittles. "Is it okay if I have her in here?" he asked, but they both immediately rushed over, practically screeching about how cute his dog was. Honestly, the pet would have probably worked out better than the dating app had for him.
"What are you looking for?" the first woman asked as she petted Skittles on her head. 
A soft smile made its way to his lips as he said, "An engagement ring."
"Oh! Of course, let's just head over here to see what you like best. Do you have anything specific in mind?"
Bradley followed behind her as he nodded and said, "A princess cut diamond."
------------------------
A princess for a Princess. Also, there is no way Skittles wouldn't be a magnet for all the ladies. A big man with a small dog... just fuck. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 45
@hotch-meeeeeuppppp
@chassy21
@solacestyles
@daisyhollyxox
@wintercap89
@blog-name6996
@bcon24
@chaoticassidy
@avada-kedavra-bitch-187
@katiebby04
@marantha
@averyhotchner
@abaker74
@heli991113
@k-k0129
@noz4a2
@tallyovie
@shanimallina87
@little-wiseone
@ccbb2222
@lilyevanswhore
@xoxabs88xox
@thedroneranger
@bradshawsbitch
@cherrycola27
@fanboyswhore9
@xomrsalliej4787xo
@desert-fern
@sylviebell
@wkndwlff
@horseslovers2016
@gennyanydots
@mattyskies
@hookslove1592
@blahehblah
@sadpetalsstuff
@local-spidey
@schoollover
@lex-winchester
@magicalmorg
@nicole01-23
@jessicab1991
@happyrebelruins
@samsgoddess
@ughthisisntright
@bellaireland1981
@sagittarius-flowerchild
714 notes · View notes
hells-wasabii · 2 months
Note
I’m shamelessly asking for some Carmilla Carmine x fem!reader where reader gets nearly killed during extermination day, maybe severely hurt kind of thing cuz I’m a sucker for angst
A/N: And I am shamelessly answering this wholeheartedly Can I just say that I love Carmilla?? And one can never have enough angst. I went ahead and decided to make it a drabble
A/n's A/N: I came back after finishing this, i really didn't mean for it to get so long. It's not a drabble anymore, it's a short fic. the word count is nearly three times what i usually allot for my drabbles.
Character: Carmilla
Type: Fic (Carmilla x fem!reader injured during extermination, Angst, Fluff)
All it takes is one second. Time meant everything during the annual extermination. If you drop your guard, let yourself get distracted, it could mean certain death. This was something that Carmilla had been extra diligent in teaching her daughters, and something that she had always reminded you, her love, her heart, of constantly.
You would always offer a soft smile of reassurance, pressing a kiss to the overlord's hand.
But things don't always go as planned, do they?
No one expected to get separated.
There had been an explosion that had taken out most of the city block. Some sinner trying to put up a fight before their inevitable demise, her daughters informed her after the fact. She had found Odette and Clara easily, both on the same side of the blast as she had been, but she had lost sight of you. You hadn't been caught in the blast, she knew that for sure. You were durable enough for something as measly as that to not be of much effect, anyhow.
But the fact that she didn't know where you had gone made her nervous. No one was truly safe during the exterminations, only hellborns and the king.
Her blood ran cold when your scream met her ears, her head snapping in the direction.
No.
Carmilla was in motion before her mind could catch up. The arms dealer instinctively ran through the streets littered with death and destruction, Clara and Odette calling after her. It wasn't like their mother to act so impulsively.
Turning the corner, there you were, lying in a slowly growing pool of blood. The arms dealer deflated upon seeing you in such a state. If only she had gotten here sooner. Luckily, the exorcist has gone. Likely to chase down some other damned soul like an animal, she thought bitterly. Skidding to a stop, she dropped to her knees at your side.
You were in a bad state, disheveled, bruised, bloodied. The worst of it appeared to be a rather large stab wound just above your hip, likely from some sort of spear.
But you were still breathing, nonetheless. You could still be saved. Hope bloomed in Carmilla's chest, as she pushed aside your blouse to better reveal the worst of your injuries.
"Girls," Carmilla called out once she was sure that it was safe for them to follow.
As she checked you for other injuries her daughters knelt by her side.
"Mother, here." Clara sounded as frantic as Carmilla felt. The overlord briefly turned to her daughter, surprised to find her taking off her coat to offer her. "To apply pressure," her daughter clarified. Her heart swelled at the action, accepting the coat and pressing it to your wound.
"Look!" Odette called out, and out of the corner of her eye, Carmilla saw her pointing to the sky. "The angels are retreating!"
"She's right!" Clara chimed in, placing a hand on her mother's shoulder, "We should get her back home, then we can tend to the wound properly."
Carmilla had never felt prouder of her daughters, they truly had grown into exceptional young women. She made a mental note to properly thank the both of them once things had settled.
But home was too far away, they would never make it there before you bled out. Lady luck was on your side as the four of you hadn't been too far from one of their safe houses, however, they needed to move quickly before you lost too much blood.
The next hour and a half were a blur. The moment they had unlocked the door to the safe house the Carmines got to work
Your wounds were cleaned and dressed. Carmilla herself had been the one to wash off the blood and dirt that caked your skin and you were laid up in bed. Odette and Clara had left once they were sure you would recover, choosing to give you and their mother space.
The arms dealer couldn't help feeling partially responsible. She thought if only she had been more diligent, and kept you close to her, maybe you wouldn't be left in such a state. The realization hit her, hard. She could have lost you.
"Carmilla?" your voice pulled the overlord from her thoughts. You were awake! In an instant she was by your side, taking your hand in hers.
"It's okay darling, Everything is alright now." You don't answer, at least not with your words. instead, with a grateful smile turning up the corners of your lips, you gave her hand a gentle squeeze. She couldn't help but return the smile, relieved. Leaning down, she pressed a kiss to your temple.
"Funny, for a moment there, I thought I'd somehow made it to heaven. Mistook you for an angel," you managed out a strained laugh, though you immediately regretted it when a sharp pain shot through your lower abdomen. Your smile returned, however, as Carmilla couldn't help but roll her eyes. But you had met your mark, the arms dealer finally let the tension leave her body.
"Mi amore."
"Yes, Carmilla?" You at first thought that the arms dealer was going to scold you for making light of the situation. You never would have expected the next words out of her mouth. She breathed out, gaze softening, her request was barely above a whisper.
"Marry me."
676 notes · View notes
pizzapottah · 1 month
Text
runaway
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
summary: you and james grew up together, being best friends since childhood, but after you get sorted into slytherin in your first year at hogwarts, it was only a matter of time until it all crumbled down.
pairing: james potter x slytherin!slughorn!reader (no use of y/n)
word count: 3.6k
warnings: like two swear words, sirius and regulus' feud (they're both menaces), kinda mean james, sirius' a dick too, THEY'RE ALL DICKS BUT REMUS YOUR HONOR, a bit angsty
author's note: inspired by runaway by kanye west (don't worry, there'll be homecoming too). slughorn as granpa is going to have a bigger role on the second part i swear (i love granpas and he woud be so sweet) i swear the timeline piece for young love is coming. i don't know when but i'm trying ;-;
Tumblr media
To Sirius, it looked a bit obvious that you and James had somewhat of a history. 
They were just in their second year, and as soon as “BLACK, REGULUS” is called and gets put to Slytherin, he turns to his friend, about to start a bashing on his brother's House. “What did I tell you? Of course he would be put there. A little snake, he is, tried to drown me in the bathtub when he was five, Merlin knows what he will be capable of now…”
But as another name gets called to the Hat, James looks like he isn't listening. And as Sirius goes on, stubborn, the boy puts a hand on his mouth. “Shush, I wanna hear.”
Well, that's surely something new. Prongs wanting to listen? That has to be the news of the decade. So Sirius tries to hold back his wounded ego and looks at the chair where the students sit, one by one, to be sorted. There's a girl sitting on it, and as the Hat takes a moment to debate with himself for where to put her, James looks at the girl like she holds on her shoulders the sky and the stars. 
Sirius doesn't really understand - right now he just thinks that yes, she’s pretty, but not that pretty to break his neck just to look at her. (In a few years time, he’ll realise that it’s not because she’s not that pretty. It’s just because he doesn’t really like girls - and maybe, just maybe, at that time he had an itty bitty crush on his friend, but was too young and oblivious to know.) 
James stares dreamily at the girl. “She's the daughter of my neighbours - the girl I grew up with, remember? I told you about her.”
No, Sirius actually doesn’t remember her, but he stares at her and the Hat, waiting for the sorting. “Why is it taking so long? It never takes that long.” At this point he’s just trying to go on like nothing happened, like James didn’t just shut him up to stare at a girl - what happened to the bro code?
“The Hat’s probably settling between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor,” his friend tells him. “To Gryffindor because, well, I'm here, but also to Ravenclaw because she’s so smart- oh, Sirius, when she gets put here, you’ll have to move- could you give your seat to her?”
Sirius stares at him with his mouth open. In front of them, Peter and Remus assume the same horrified face of their friend - James Potter asking Sirius Black to give up his seat beside him? They’re not even sure if they ever saw them sitting apart. The latter seems horrified at the thought of his best friend asking him to move.
And before Sirius can start shouting mouthfuls of insults that a twelve year old surely shouldn’t know, the Hat declares his sentence. “SLYTHERIN!”
A sudden relief fills Sirius. Oh, thank Merlin. James, unlike him, looks outraged and is probably about to have an aneurysm. “WHAT?” he shouts, his protests unheard as the Slytherins claps fill the room as you go sit at their table. “I demand another sorting! The Hat’s broken!”
Professor McGonagall takes no more than a few seconds to shut him up, opting to use magic instead of discussing with a twelve year old with a too-big ego, and James has to sit still, almost chained to the table, for the whole evening, not muttering a single word. Sirius looks at him smugly, silently thinking that he deserves that for even thinking about putting a girl before him, as he glares at her and his brother quietly chatting on the green and silver table.
Tumblr media
You don’t exactly remember when you and James Potter actually became friends.
You know your dads went to school together, his in Gryffindor and yours in Slytherin, and your family's cottage and the Potter's farmhouse being only a flower field away, for most of your childhood you were each other’s only friend. But as you grew up and he went to Hogwarts, merely a year before you, you two drifted apart.
It wasn’t anyone’s fault, really. James was a year older than you, already growing faster, and probably needed more friends than just you - not that he had difficulties at that. He was an enthusiast, and put his heart in everything he ever did. During the summer he told you about his new friends - and the strange nicknames they’d given each other - and expressed his excitement over you meeting them.
It all went downhill when you got sorted to Slytherin.
For you, or your family, it wasn’t a big deal. Slytherin is a Hogwarts House as much as any of the others, and many of your family members are Slytherins. But as for you it’s not a problem, James surely doesn’t think of it like you do, and makes no effort to hide it from you. 
(In the first weeks of school, a rumour that he had tried to protest to professor McGonagall and even Dumbledore about your sorting spread around. You just hope it was a bad joke.)
More times than you’d like to admit he has complained about your friends, saying that you should just stick to staying around him and his friends. 
“Yeah, and then what?" You’d say, getting angry. “Spend six hours of lessons alone, not talking to anyone? Spending all my time at the dormitories by staying silent? If you found some friends, why can’t I? You’re not my mother, you can't tell me what to do!”
“It's because they’re bad for you!”
“Oh, so you mean to tell me that Regulus is worse than Sirius?” you’re not sure if he has seen the way Sirius treats you - like a rival, a nuisance that he has to endure until he manages to get rid of it. Just yesterday, when you were by the Black Lake, he made you trip by the river and almost fall in the water. When you confronted him about it, he shrugged it off, blaming your bad balance. James did nothing about it - not that it is his place to discipline his friend, but if he tries to scare off all your friends just to make you stay with his, assuring himself that he treats you decently is the least he could do.
It’s no secret that you and Sirius don’t get along, and as now he’s apparently James' best friend, it’s a problem. Sirius despises you because you’re friends with his brother - who, by the way, never speaks ill of him - and you despise him for the way he treats you. You wouldn’t have anything to do with him if it wasn’t for James insisting on you spending so much time with his friends. 
Peter? Sure, nice guy. Remus? Your favourite. But Sirius? He’s hated you even before you even met, you’re certain. It’s like you were made for hating each other.
But at this time, it’s still just the first year. You and James are both just kids who love each other very much, and surely none of you is ready to give up on the other. Somehow you compromise - you stay with your friends, James stays with his, and you try to avoid the Marauders, especially when you're with Regulus. Him, in fact, is even angrier about the whole situation than you.
“I can't believe it,” he said, once. “He's bashing you for befriending me and a couple of other Slytherins? Sirius goes around the school saying I'm not his brother and that our parents found me in a dumpster. I think it’s him who should revise his priorities.” 
Sure, your friends and his friends hate each other, but for your first year at Hogwarts, the friendship with James somehow remains intact. So by the time summer break comes, it’s like you never argued at school and never grew up from the kids you used to be, spending all your time in the field between your houses and constantly having sleepovers. 
It all comes crashing down in your second year. 
You befriend Severus Snape, a guy in James’ year, while the latter falls head over heels for Lily Evans. The arguments get more heated and frequent, you both just getting mad at each other over nothing, and it’s like all the time you spent together in the damn field is forgotten. 
“Why him, but not my friends?” is a frequent question he asks, worried about you, since Severus wasn’t one of the people he wanted to be around you. 
“Well, go ask Sirius, James!” you would always reply, getting meaner every time this question was asked. Now, basically every time you see each other, you argue, him too proud to admit his wrongs, you too stubborn to give in. 
And, one day, you’ve simply had enough. There’s no energy left in you, and it’s like you’re the only one caring about your friendship, fighting for it. So, since the only times you and James interact it’s for arguing, you start ignoring him. You ignore him when he tries to talk to you during breaks, you ignore him when he greets you in the hallway between classes, you ignore him when he tries to start an argument again.
Soon, the only signs of recognition he gets are from your friends, who send him dirty looks every time they see him. 
James honestly feels even more enraged than before, sure that it’s them who are conditioning you - especially Severus, who never liked him or any of the Marauders, always staring at him up and down like they were superior to him. 
“I think Snivellus’ putting strange ideas in her head,” James announces to the other Marauders one evening, while they’re all huddled in their room. Sirius huffs dramatically as Remus sighs, while Peter just frowns. 
“You have to let her go,” Sirius insists, never having liked you. You’ve never actually done him any wrong, but your House and the fact that you’re dangerously close to James are enough for him. “If she’s ignoring you, that’s her loss, ‘innit? She loses the only good friend she has. Once my brother and the other Slytherins get bored of her, she’ll be alone and will come crawling back.”
Remus and Peter stare at him with their mouths open. “Sirius, that’s horrible,” Lupin says, shocked. He turns to James, not understanding all of this drama, “Why can’t you just accept that she’s made new friends aside from you? Can’t you just be happy for her? Is it that hard?”
James crosses his arms. Right now, he looks like a spoiled kid who’s used to having everyone at his mercy. “I can’t be happy for her knowing what horrible people she is friends with,” he grumbles. Sirius nods, agreeing. “Just leave her alone and give her time to understand her mistake. And once she does, it’ll be too late.”
So he did, leave you alone. Stopped saying hi to you, hoping that like Sirius predicted, you’d come back - except it could never be too late for you. James is sure he’d welcome you back a thousand times, if necessary, even if Sirius is sure that you should learn your lesson by him never talking to you again. 
A week passes, then two, then a month’s passed and you only seem happier, always surrounded by a big group of friends, who now consist of some Ravenclaws, too. They stop glaring at him, finally, but Regulus doesn’t look like he’s going to stab you in your back at any given moment. You two look closer, even.
And when the summer break finally arrives, James thinks that maybe, now that your friends aren’t there to condition you, everything will go back to normal - it already happened last year, no?
Well, nothing goes back to normal.
You don’t show up at the Potter's saturday barbecue - your parents do, though, and say that you simply didn’t feel like coming. James is more than confused - you used to love coming to their barbecues. His confusion only strengthens when later that week he goes to your house to ask you if you want to come with him to take a swim by the lake, and he gets greeted by your apologetic mother, who simply tells him that you are at a friends’ house. 
Defeated, James goes back home, immediately writing a letter to Remus for advice - he’s learned not to name you in front of Sirius - and then slumps in bed, convinced that you’ve started to hate him.
It's monday. On mondays you always go to the lake together. Never missed a day since now.
But James doesn’t surrender. He isn’t ready to give up on this friendship yet. 
He goes to your house the next day - tuesday, usually you play Quidditch. Your mother probably pities him, at this point. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, she’s still at her friend’s house. Her name’s Pandora - a sweet girl from Ravenclaw, you surely know her. She's coming back next week, and the girl will stay with us for a while, too. Hasn’t my daughter told you about it? She probably just forgot.’’
James has actually never heard of this Pandora girl before, even if the name does sound familiar. He's hurt by the fact that you didn’t tell him you’d go away, even if it was for a week, but Remus’ reply to his letter is quick to snap him back to his senses. 
Dear Prongs,
Please, stop thinking that the poor girl is your property. Let her live her life. You don’t have to do everything together and she doesn’t owe you anything. Besides, I'd like to remind you that during the last months at school you two stopped arguing just because she started ignoring you, and you complied, instead of finding a sane solution. She was probably too exhausted to keep fighting with you, and thought that maybe not starting a conversation would be best. If you didn’t like that, you could’ve simply told her. 
In hope that you come to your senses,
Moony.
James' newly return to his senses doesn’t last long, though, as apparently, Remus told what happened to Sirius, too.
Dear Prongs, 
Let her stew in her own juice. You’ll do just fine without her. You still have me, Remus and Peter. Plus, it’s not that big of a loss. In your position, I would never talk to her again. 
Please listen to me, 
Padfoot. 
James is torn. Why are his friends like this? 
He ends up going to your house again, but this time he's sure that you're home and can't avoid talking to him. It's tuesday again, Quidditch again, so he brings his broom and all the equipment you'll need, in hope that you’ll just become friends again without a big fuss. It always was like that - in the past years, the ones before Hogwarts, you two rarely argued, and everything was forgiven without even saying sorry, not even the day after. A kiss on the cheek, two cookies and back to being friends like nothing ever happened.
(James hasn’t brought the entire jar of cookies that his mother just made. No, no, absolutely not. He would never try to bribe you like that, who do you take him for?)
Your father opens the door and forces himself to smile at the sight of Iames. It's kinda hard when he knows the kid has insulted the House he was in for almost two whole years now. “James,” he greets, rather formally than usual. “Good morning. How can I help you?” it is strange talking to a boy he’s seen grow up like this, but he can’t help the awkwardness, especially knowing how James made you feel.
“Is she home?” James doesn’t have to specify who, since he’s always come here for you.
“Well-” 
Before your father can articulate an actual sentence, a familiar voice comes from the hallway, “Who’s at the door, son?”
Your father shifts so that professor Slughorn can see James, clad in Quidditch uniform, looking smaller than he’s ever been. “Oh, it’s you, Potter! What a nice surprise! Why don’t you enter?” not sparing a look at your dad, who’s staring disappointedly at his own father, he welcomes the boy in. “I see you brought cookies! Is your dad home, perhaps? We’re making potions here, thought that maybe he would like to join…” 
In the living room there’s five people seated on the carpet: you, who James recognises immediately, Lily Evans - his heart skips a beat just by seeing her -, the girl who he barely recognises as Pandora and, to his absolute horror, Regulus Black and bloody Snivellus. You’re all seated in front of a cauldron each, and the potion inside them is the colour of an astonishing purple. You’re all laughing and chatting like nothing's wrong.
The fact that you would trade Quidditch tuesdays just to do extracurricular potion lessons with Snape makes him want to vomit. For Lily Evans? He understands, he would too, but Severus?
Once you all notice him, the room becomes silent. Professor Slughorn blinks, not understanding the sudden tension, remembering all the times you and the Potter boy would play outside in the garden with him watching over. He thought you were good friends - and you still are, right? 
You huff, getting up and taking him by the wrist. “Feel free to go on without me,” you say, “I'll walk him home.” 
“Hey, that’s not-” 
But it’s too late, since you’ve already passed by your father who just nods in an approving manner. You get to the door, and James thinks that never, never in almost thirteen years of friendship has he been thrown out of your house like this. You two always tried to spend the most time you could with each other, and when time to go arrived, it was not easily that his parents were able to bring him home. 
It's only when you’ve surpassed the porch that James is finally able to snap out of your grasp. “I don't need you to walk me home like I’m five!” he bursts. You don’t even blink, going for the flower field that sits between your houses, and he has to speed up to catch up to you. “Could you tell me what is going on?”
This time you frown, stopping. “What’s going on?” you ask in disbelief. Letting out a small laugh, you ask, louder, “What’s going on?”
James falters. “Yeah,” he breathes. “You’re not the same.”
He stares at you and for a moment, hoping it’s all a bad dream, because something tells him that this time you won’t go back to being friends thanks to some cookies and a kiss on the cheek. 
Your eye twitches. “I'm not the same,” you mutter. “What nonsense are you babbling about? James, I've tried my best to keep up with you, but I don't think I can do it anymore. At Hogwarts you treat me like I'm a pet, expecting me to do what you say, and when I rightfully don’t - because mind you, I am my own person! - you get mad at me saying I'm stupid!” 
You start walking towards the Potter's house again, letting out a frustrated groan. “I start ignoring you because I'm so tired of the fact that we’re constantly arguing about my friends - people I care about - and every time we talk we just end up fighting again!” you point your finger at him even before he opens his mouth to protest, “And don’t say that’s not true, Potter, it’s been months since we’ve had a decent conversation and now that we’re talking, we’re back to arguing again.”
James stops and suddenly thinks that holy shit, you’re right. He barely remembers the last time you’ve had a civil conversation that wasn’t a screaming match, or the last time he made you laugh or even barely smile. 
But pride is an ugly thing, and he isn’t ready to admit his faults - but is more than ready to point out yours. “So you do admit that you started ignoring me!”
You seem to lose it. “Yeah, douchebag!” you yell. “Don’t you get it? That's why we haven’t fought lately! That’s why we’ve been so peaceful! Because we didn’t talk!”
First James, then Potter, then douchebag. He's about to have a heart attack - he once was JJ and Jamie to you. “Maybe it’s best if we just… stop talking. Like, at all.” he murmurs, almost hoping that you will protest. It’s never really been him the one fighting for this friendship - since the Marauders entered the picture, it’s like he stopped fighting to maintain a good relationship with you, but started to fight to make it crumble to the ground. He’s realising it now, but it’s too late, and unlike him, you’re not that keen on letting him come back. 
Please, he thinks, don’t let me do this.
But instead of protesting, you spitefully murmur, “Yeah, I thought so.” 
And the same field that has seen you two grow up is seeing you two split up, probably for good. 
678 notes · View notes