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#well i am sure you can gossips with your friends
fouryearsofshades · 2 years
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Hanfu movement is about MODERN ethnic clothing. What is the authentic “han” clothing? Who is going to decide for everyone? There are millions of Chinese around the world. Who could say something and everyone would follow? You? Me? The China government? Come on the moment China government said something it will be on the news that a totalitarian regime is mandating how people should dress.
Korean, Japan, Vietnam and England did not have such a tragic discontinuation of wearing their style when they all have their “modernization” period of pain. Also, have you considered the amount of Chinese involved in the situation? Also the geographical differences, the culture background and the resulted fashion preference of those people? Having only one (1) style of clothing actually is not the norm. Like the Dai people could have very different clothing depending on their villages. And the related Thai women in Thailand have at least... 7 different blouses? And those are modern invention too. Less than 100 years.
I live in a country where wearing traditional clothing, at least for women (pretty sure this is a relic from the colonialism period - men wore the European clothes while the women wore the ethnic clothes to show “fusion”, “respect” etc.), is very normal, even for work. For example, Indians. What is the traditional clothing of an Indian woman? A sari, you may say. But in my experience, most people don’t wear sari to work. I asked my teacher why. She said she did not like showing the waist. I only had one colleague who regularly wears Sari to work. But she is also a priest. Also I am quite sure that she only wears Sari when she is going to the temple on that day. What does the other wear usually?  Usually they wear a tunic plus a trousers. There are many many many different types of tunic and I did not follow them. Each type of tunic are most likely came from different region (so the bottom to match is actually slightly different, but again, I did not follow). I remember back in high school, once they showed about 20 different types of Indian clothing, each from different regions, or different kingdoms historically. And that was put together by one (1) schoolmate. I am sure there is much more variants in Indian traditional clothing.
In addition, clothing from each dynasty reflected their characteristics. And modern Chinese needs something that reflect them. So why stick to a dynasty when you have so many to chose from? Looking back at different periods of time was also what people did back in the days (Ming dynasty), but they did not have the technology nor the archeological discoveries that we can access nowadays. Also people from different regions have different needs. Certain styles would be more prominent in certain regions.  And those not suitable for people will fall into disuse.  Like, quju was rather popular a decade ago, but only a handful of people are into it now, because the construction of the clothing does not match modern needs.
So forming a modern Han clothing is still an ongoing process. It has only been, like, 20 years? It takes time to come to a conscious. Many people just started to wear hanfu recently. It takes time to build up their taste and wardrobe. Historically, it took a few decades for Ming dynasty to settle into their own style. Chill. People will come to a conclusion. Give them time. Give yourself time.
If one don’t want to sit it up one could always wear the cheongsam. Even then there are so many different cuts to choose from. XP   There is also non-cheongsam Chinese traditional clothing but people probably don’t recognize them and only really old grannies wear them nowadays. And most of them switched to buttons, at least in my region.
On the other hand, please consider cultivating your own social experience. And only hang out with friends or circles that decided on the style you also liked. I know there are people who are firmly focus on late late Ming style. There are also a lot of events and gatherings that are style-limited. YOU CAN MAKE YOUR OWN CALL. Don’t let the others decide for you. If you wear hanfu, you are one of the movement. Development your own circle if you like certain style. Consider becoming an influencer if you want people to follow your way. (Also, some people are only in for the money and know no shit about hanfu. So beware.)
Lastly, the online filter bubble is actually very strong if one picks the right people to follow. Like, a couple months ago I asked my friend what did she think about the fashion trend this year because I couldn’t see one. She said, definitely heziqun, especially for the newbies. For me, I have seen nearly zero news and updates on heziqun since Qinghuige time because I only followed a selection of people and bots on weibo. Since anyone wearing hanfu as daily wear for a few years knew heziqun is a recent invention (less than 3 years) as the whole structure is ridiculous and tedious to wear, so heziqun isn’t something those people would consider. Therefore I don’t see them on my dash. There were a couple of beidaiqun. Meh. Tang style is a wild place. Don’t go into Tang style if you want 100% historical accurate style. Or don’t even go into general hanfu fashion but only follow that handful of research and reconstruction blogs.
TLDR: There is no one that has the authenticity in Hanfu Movement to decide what specific style people should stick to. Make your own decision and hang out with people of like mind if you don’t want to see a variation of styles appearing in one place.
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rafeandonlyrafe · 3 months
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bruised knees
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words: 2.1k
warnings: mentions of blowjobs, losing virginity, virgin!reader (but fic is not smut), jealous! and overprotective!rafe, childhood friends to lovers, fluffy
rafe has been beyond overprotective of you his whole life. ever since you met in first grade and you let him borrow your brand new crayon box, only for a bully to come up and tug on your pigtails, causing rafe to pause his coloring to shove him away and tell him not to touch you ever again.
you smiled at rafe, the same smile you look at him with now, and he knew he would take care of you no matter what. you hugged him tightly and from that day on always shared your crayons, and everything else you had, with your new best friend.
“ready?” rafe slings his arm around your shoulder, pulling you towards the boat.
“yes!” you squeal, trying to navigate holding your tote bag and backpack at once, when suddenly both are out of your hands as rafe takes them and carries them down the pier.
“rafe, i can carry my own stuff.” you roll your eyes. it's a losing battle, your best friend will always lessen your load, hating seeing you do any sort of physical labor, feeling like that's his job.
“yeah, whatever.” rafe just ignores your argument, it's one he's heard so many times before, yet you make no attempt to take the bags back. “who all did you invite again?” rafe asks as you enter onto the boat, quickly beginning preparations for the day at sea, having gone through the motions so many times, knowing the boat like the back of your hand even though it's the cameron familys.
“uhh, topper, tina, kelce, steph, tiffy and hayden.” you go through the list of names in your head of friends that will be joining you and rafe on the yacht.
“how is tiffy since the break up?” rafe asks, knowing you like to talk while you work, pulling various lines while you straighten up the boat to make it more presentable, going through the motions together, always together.
rafes question launches you into a gossip session with rafe, spilling all the secrets your friends told you at your last hang out, but they know you don't keep anything from rafe, so it's no surprise when he knows as well, not that any of the girls would complain, rafe often takes over the role of protector to your friends as well, caring about who you care about.
“there's hayden!” you call to rafe, pointing down the dock to the parking lot where haydens truck just pulled in, a few minutes earlier than you expected anyone to start arriving.
“great.” rafe mumbles under his breath, making sure you don't hear his upset tone. he liked hayden at first, sharing some common interests (mostly golf), but then hayden got far too touchy with you, his gaze heating when it turned to you in a way that infuriated rafe, and he made sure to show hayden when you weren't around how much it pissed him off.
rafe is probably to credit for you never having a boyfriend for an extended period of time, but he can't help it, you're so perfect and no guy can possibly deserve you, so he has to scare them off before you get too invested and give them all of your attention instead of him.
“hey, heyds.” you greet him with a hug after he makes his way down the pier, making rafe grunts as haydens hand rests a little too low on your back for his liking, making rafes mind reel at the possibility of something going on between the two of you.
your other friends slowly begin to pile onto the boat, steph being the last one to get there as she is notorious for being late, which is why you told her to show up half an hour before everyone else, and somehow still managed to get there last.
“ready for takeoff?” you ask rafe, stepping away to join him at the wheel while your group of friends find places to sit while rafe navigates the boat towards the ocean.
“i am.” rafe nods, having disconnected the last line. no matter what is happening, you always sit next to rafe on the bench as he directs the boat, ready to be his second in command at any moment, even if its just fetching him a drink or checking the water depth.
“i can’t wait to swim.” you say with a sigh, having not gotten out into the water all week, which is rare with how much peace you find in the ocean.
“how about that one sandbar we took wheezie to?” rafe questions, wanting you to decide where he anchors the boat.
“ooh, yes.” you nod.
“she complained to me last night that you weren’t over.” rafe smiles at you when you let out a laugh.
“i don’t spend one friday night and she complains! ugh, i love that girl.” you grin thinking about wheezie, treating her like she’s your own little sister, having known her since she was born.
“you’ll stay tonight, right?” rafe asks, missing you sharing his bed like you do every weekend. 
“mhm, i’m not driving home after being out on the boat all day, gonna be so exhausted.” you roll your eyes.
rafe smiles at you, wrapping one arm around his shoulder, leaving him to drive with one hand, but wanting you close to him, secretly hoping hayden would look through the windows from the lower deck and see you all cuddled up into his side.
neither of you have ever broached the topic of taking things beyond just friendship, despite rafe desperately wanting to take things further, he doesn’t want to mess up the one good thing he has in his life. you’re such a source of brightness that when you’re around him he forgets all about his fights with his dad, or issues with barry.
“here.” rafe nods to you, immediately going to drop the anchor, planning to stay in one spot all day.
you help him make sure its secure before moving to the main deck with everyone else. “alright, who is ready to swim?” you shout with glee.
“you know i am.” hayden smirks at you, pulling his shirt off over his head.
“mhm, that’s why i like you, not afraid to get wet.” you say, rafe carefully watching the interaction, unsure if you meant the innuendo or not.
you take your tshirt off as well, tossing it onto the pile that everyone is making on the sofa, revealing swimsuits underneath their clothes. rafe also undresses, but slowly and quietly.
you tug your yoga pants down next, having kicked your shoes off upon entering the boat. you turn towards rafe, always checking in with him, seeking him out amongst the crowd.
rafe smiles at you, his eyes dropping subtly down your body, quickly checking out your pale lilac swimsuit before he sees a different shade of purple, this time blossoming around your knees.
hayden seems to notice too, a smirk growing on his face when he sees the localized bruises.
“what the fuck did you do?” rafe grunts out before he can stop himself and use the calming methods you so carefully taught him.
“what?” hayden turns to look at rafe, but he’s already charging at him. rafe shoves hayden backwards, making him stumble but he manages to maintain his footing.
“rafe, chill!” you shout, grabbing at his arm.
“did he-did you fucking blow him?” rafe questions, pointing to your knees. “how did you get those bruises?” “jesus, rafe!” you take a step back, but don’t drop your grip on his arm, not sure if he would try to pull away. “you seriously ask me that in front of all our friends? for your information i was working out in the garden yesterday and bruised my knees kneeling on the pavers. but thanks for embarrassing me.”
you drop his arm when you feel tears welling in your eyes, quickly turning and sprinting into the interior of the boat.
you throw yourself onto the bed in one of the two bedrooms, hiding your face in the white pillow as you cry. 
“y/n…” rafe says softly. you don’t jump at his voice, you expected him to follow you, but you don’t feel like talking to him.
“please, y/n.” rafe pleads, and you feel his weight dip the bed down as he climbs onto the mattress.
“stop it.” you whine when rafe pulls you into him, but you don’t struggle as he cuddles into you, pressing a kiss against your hair. you’ve cuddled rafe before, of course since you’ve been friends for so long, but never with this little clothing on, and you are very aware of how much of his bare skin is touching yours.
“i didn’t mean to embarrass you, y/n. i just… i just got so angry thinking about you possibly doing anything with hayden. i don’t like him. he’s not good enough for you.”
“why would you even think i would do that though? you know im a virgin.”
the words shock rafe, and you can physically feel him tense up. you pick up your head to look at him, brows furrowed together.
“i-i didn’t know that.” rafe just assumed you lost it to one of your short term boyfriends.
“no… no i would have told you, rafey. you’re my best friend, i… you told me when you lost yours.” you remind rafe of when he was 16 years old and had sex for the first time, calling you only an hour after to confide in you, partly hoping you would get jealous.
“i thought you knew that i wouldn’t want to hear about you sleeping with someone. i guess i just figured you kept it to yourself for my sake.” rafe doesn’t realize the implication of his words as they flow from between his lips.
“why would i?- wait… you like me?” you blink up at him.
rafe pauses. now is as good as time as any, especially with the growing threat of hayden and other guys who aren’t scared of rafe potentially taking you away from him. “yes. i love you. i think i’ve loved you since first grade.” “holy shit, you asshole!” you shout, and it’s not the reaction rafe was expecting as he tenses, waiting for you to run off, or get mad, but instead your shout turns into a laugh, “i can’t believe you didn’t tell me sooner!” and then your lips are on his, finally feeling the perfect meld of your mouths together as rafe quickly snaps into action, his lips moving against yours as he cups your face.
“i love you too, in case it wasn’t obvious.” you whisper against his mouth before resuming the kiss.
“thank fuck, i was ready to murder hayden just because i thought you liked him.” rafe laughs, tugging on your waist to bring your bodies even closer together, leaving his large hand resting against your bare back.
“pshht.” you shake your head. “he’s not even half the man you are.” 
“holy shit, i love you.” rafe repeats, taking you in for another kiss.
“my friends are never gonna believe that we finally got together.” you giggle. “i think they’ve all placed bets.”
“your friends?” rafe shakes his head. “baby, i think even our parents have.”
“i… i’m really happy we admitted are feelings.” you say shyly, a blush covering your cheeks as you look down, breaking eye contact. “everyone told me that you liked me too but i was too nervous to ruin what we had.”
“hey, it’s okay.” rafe says softly. “we have forever this way.”
you feel tears well up in your eyes again as you wrap your arms around rafe, pressing your head into his bare chest.
“gosh, i can’t wait to go tell everyone.” you admit with a giggle.
“yeah? wanna go get in the water too?” rafe asks, unsure if your friends waiting for your argument to be over to swim.
“hell yeah.” you slide off the bed, rafe taking a minute to check out your body, not hiding his heated gaze as you catch him.
“holy shit, you are checking me out!” 
“duh, you’re my girl now.” rafe smirks, also getting off the bed, placing an arm around your shoulder. “gonna give you bruised knees for a different reason, baby.”
“wait, rafe-” you begin, suddenly not feeling like swimming anymore, but he pulls you out onto the deck, seeing all your friends sitting awkwardly on the sofas, waiting for whatever argument to be over with.
“don’t worry baby.” rafe drops his mouth to your ear, making sure your friends can’t hear. “we can talk about that virginity of yours later.” rafe doesn’t give you a second to respond, placing his fingers on your chin and tilting your head towards him to press a kiss to your lips to the chorus of all of your friends letting out woops and claps, along with shouts of “finally!”
“i told you!” tiffy shouts, holding her hand out towards stephanie. “you owe me 20 bucks!”
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zylev-blog · 24 days
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The batkids decide to hop on the trend.
Dick, walking as Steph records: We’re vigilantes. Of course we have to be over dramatic.
(Cut to Nightwing back flipping off of Wayne tower)
Tim: were vigilantes. Of course we have issues with caffeine.
(Cut to a video of Tim as Red Robin snoring while hanging from a grappling line. Batman can be seen in the background facepalming.)
———
Damian: No.
Tim: oh come on, Robin, we’re all doing it.
Damian: I refuse to partake in such idiotic videos.
Tim: (while Damian is still behind him) We’re vigilantes. Of course we get to punch people without getting in trouble.
Damian: actually—-
Tim: Robin, you’re supposed to play along—
Damian: I am not going to spread false information—
Steph, interrupting: well, I’m not one of Batman’s sons so he legally can’t yell at me.
Tim: wanna bet?
(Cut to Batman scolding all three of them about the improper use of force)
—-
Duke: we’re vigilantes. Of course we go to Batburger.
(Cut to Duke happily eating a Batburger meal, and playing with a Signal toy)
Duke: what? I’m allowed to have hobbies.
——
Steph: we’re vigilantes. Of course we can scare anyone we want to. Right, Black Bat?
Cass: (nod)
(The next series of videos is a compilation. The first is Superman being scared, followed by Green Lantern, Flash, Cyborg, Starfire, Dick, Tim, and a failed attempt to startle Wonder Woman. Cass isn’t even upset about not being able to scare the woman, she accepts the defeat with grace.)
——-
Dick, Tim, and Steph: we’re vigilantes.
Dick: I’ve gotten stranded on the moon. Don’t ask.
Tim: I got lost in hell.
Steph: I accidentally followed Green Lantern into space.
Tim: what? When?
Steph: turns out if you hug a Green Lantern really tightly, their life support on their ring will support you too
Dick: yknow, Batman shouldn’t find out about this-
(Cut to Batman’s lecture about the proper use of protective gear when going to space)
——
Dick: we’re vigilantes. Of course we’re best friends with all of the villains.
(Cut to Red Hood kicking down a door)
Jason: hey (bleep), you’re late to dinner
Dick: (currently tied to a chair and gagged)
Jason: hang on, I’ll help. (Shoots everyone and unties dick) Harley said she’s going to rampage if you’re not there in five minutes.
Dick: Blame these guys, not me! (Jumps through the nearest window, shattering it, and the sound of a grapple is heard)
——
Jason: I’m a crime lord
Dick: and I’m a vigilante
Jason: and you’re ruining my video, (bleep) off. (Shoves Dick out of the frame, ignoring Dick’s muttered cursing) now that we got the riffraff out, let me start over. (Brushes imaginary dirt from hands) I’m a crime lord. Of course Batman fights me every other day. I look forward to the day I can break his kneecaps.
Dick: (shocked) Hood!
Jason: what?
Dick: he’s your dad too!
Jason: yuck, don’t remind me.
——-
Duke: we’re vigilantes. Of course we know all of the gossip. (Very obviously looking around) like for example, Superman has the biggest crush on Bruce Wayne—
Clark, who was obviously eavesdropping: Nonononononono—- (trying to turn the camera off as he darts into the frame. There’s a flash of red, blue and yellow as Duke and Clark fight over the camera)
——
Tim: we’re vigilantes. Of course we visit other cities.
Wally, as Kid Flash: What the (bleep) are you doing in Central City?
Tim: I’m honestly not sure, it’s so bright that I think I’m blind.
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girasollake · 4 months
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Hi! Can I request a smut imagine with prompt 48 and trope 8 with Theodore Nott.
She’s a slytherin too and a badass bitch who everybody wants to be or date
Thank youuu!
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✧ theodore nott x fem!reader x jealousy x "you. are. mine."✧
(this request is a part of my writing event, here is the link to the masterlist of the fics i'll be publishing from said event:) )
this took longer than i expected, thank you for your request anon! x
told u guys i’d post smth… surprise!!!!
warnings: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, p in v sex, some swear words, some slight cedric x reader, theo being bitchy ig, fingering, general sex stuff, orgasm denial, ummmmmm yeah i think that’s it
i’ll reread it later to fix mistakes cuz rn it’s 2 am where i live and i’m going to bed bye
•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•
Your relationship with Theo was complicated. At least in your mind that was the most suitable word for this dynamic, you could never find anything else that would quite describe it. You were friends, that’s for sure, this was the only thing you were certain of. Some days you had found yourself tangled in his bedsheets, his soft fingers caressing your back as you lingered in his scent. But, there were also days when you didn’t speak to him at all, strolling through the halls and seeing him tug a piece of hair behind the ear of some Ravenclaw girl while simultaneously giving her his infamous smile. Even though you also flirted and went on dates with others, something inside your guts sunk down each time you saw him with a girl who was not you. And you could barely handle it. Every time you promised yourself you’ll never sleep with him again or give him your attention, you’d always end up doing the opposite. There was something about him that lured you in, it was toxic, but so divine. So, whenever his lips connected to yours in a hungry kiss, you’d forget about all of the other women he probably does this with. It was just you and him and your only thought during these moments was to stay with him like that forever.
‚-it’s not like it’s that important.’
‚Huh?’ You lifted your head and met Pansy’s annoyed face. ‚Sorry, what were you saying?’
¨What is going on with you lately?´She shook her head and sighed. ´I asked if you have a date for the ball.’ She then added.
‘Oh, well, not really.’ You shrugged.
‘Seriously? Is this about Theo again? I’ve told you multiple times that there is a fucking queue of guys just waiting for you and all you do is always go back to him.’ She huffed. ‘What about Mason? Louise? Henry? They were all head over heels for you, I don’t believe they didn’t ask you at least once.’
‘They did. I just said no.’ You mumbled and avoided her angry gaze.
SShe groaned and took a sip of her butterbeer. ‘I was not going to tell you this, but I see there is no other option.’ Pansy took a deep breath. ‘I heard the boys talking about the ball and Nott wants to take Arisa.’
You swallowed a big gulp in your throat and looked down into your drink. You expected that something like this would happen, you just didn’t think you wouldn’t be prepared to hear it.
‘’M sorry.’ She looked at your numb expression with caring eyes.
‘It’s okay Pans.’ You gave her a soft smile. ‘Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s time to move on.’
Even though you tried to not think about him for the next few days, it was unusually hard. He was on your mind non stop, like a song playing on repeat. On top of that, everyone was talking about the upcoming event. While walking through the halls you overheard people gossiping about the pairs, discussing what they are gonna wear and you were also a witness to roughly 7 performances of the boys creatively asking their crushes to go with them.
You walked into the courtyard and took a seat on the nearest free bench. You pulled out your sketchbook in hopes to finally draw something. Truth is, you didn’t remember the last time you practiced your beloved activity, not that you didn’t have time, you just didn’t have any ideas. This time wasn’t different, you looked around and then your gaze rested on the empty page before you. You made a soft line with your pencil and stopped, it was like your hand didn’t want to listen to your mind. You groaned and closed the sketchbook to put it in your bag again. While doing this, you felt a presence in front of you. Looking up, you saw Cedric Diggory, a charming smile plastered on his face.
‘Hi, do you have a moment?’ He asked and you stood up to face him.
‘Of course.’ You smiled.
‘I have a question.’
‘If you want my help with something, then no. I can barely finish my own essays and-‘
‘No, that’s..’ He chuckled. ‘I was wondering if you’d want to go to the ball with me?’
‘Oh..’ You bit your lip softly from the inside. ‘I.. I’ll think about it. Is that okay with you?’
‘Surely, just don’t take too long, darling.’ He sent you a wink and walked out of the courtyard.
Later that night you were studying in your dorm, soft music was playing in your headphones as you scribbled some sigils for one of the classes. Your back was turned to the door, so you didn’t hear that someone came in. It was the feeling of being observed that made you move your head to inspect the room and there he was. Theodore Nott stood next to your door, his arms were crossed and you couldn’t quite read his expression. You grabbed your headphones and took them off.
‘Knocking exists.’ You told him.
‘Not for me.’ He replied sternly.
‘What are you doing here, Theodore?’ You fixed your position on the bed so that you were fully facing him. ‘Don’t you have any other hoes to tend to?’
‘Are you going to the ball with Diggory?’ He avoided your question.
‘Why do you care?’ You stood up.
‘Answer me.’ He took a step closer to you.
‘Maybe I am, maybe I’m not.’
‘For fucks sake, stop being a brat and answer the question.’ He said through gritted teeth.
‘It’s none of your business.’ You replied while stepping closer to him and poking your finger into his chest.
His scent filled up your nose and you felt this forbidden feeling again. Your body was lustful, for him, but you couldn’t let him win again.
He chuckled, ‘See, that’s where you’re wrong.’
You scoffed, ‘Fine. Yes.’ You spat at him. ‘I’m going with Cedric. Is that what you wanted to hear?’
His eyes darkened at the confession, which wasn’t even true. You just wanted to get on his nerves and see what he would do. You didn’t even have time to react before he pinned you to the wall and hovered over you. Your breath hitched and you tried your best to avoid his eyes, because if you looked into them, you’d lose.
‘No, you’re not.’ He stated. ‘You are not going with anyone.’
‘Why? Why the fuck do you care so much?!’ Your eyes were glued to the ceiling.
He gripped your face with one of his hands and forced you to look at him. You closed your eyes.
‘You.’ He whispered and brought his lips closer to yours before breathily adding the rest. ‘Are. Mine.’
The sound of his voice was angelic and it sent a certain feeling down to your core. You tried your best to resist but your eyes fluttered open and met his. You lost.
He grabbed your face and connected your lips in a hungry kiss. You whimpered into his mouth and cursed yourself in your mind. Why was he so addictive? Why couldn’t you quit? He just felt too good to be true. Kissing you in all the right places, his fingers touching where you needed him most, every time you felt him inside of you, it felt like heaven.
He took a few steps back and tried to not break the kiss. He pushed you onto the mattress and with one of his hands he pushed all the books off the bed. He left wet kisses along your jawline and you moaned at the feeling. He discarded both of your shirts and attached his lips to your chest, leaving a couple love bites along the way.
‘I want you to say it.’ He mumbled into your ear.
‘Hm?’ You were brought out of your trance.
‘I want you to admit you’re mine.’
‘But am I?’ He stopped kissing your neck and gripped your throat.
‘Are you?’ He raised his brow and smirked challengingly, knowing you’d fold under him.
You stared deep into his eyes and swallowed harshly because of his grip, before replying, ‘I’m yours.’
‘Good girl.’ He let go of your neck and connected your lips once again.
Soon enough both of you were a sweaty mess, clothes laying somewhere on the wooden floor, soft sounds escaping your lips as he pumped his fingers in and out of you. His breath on your neck and occasional kisses made you feel dizzy, his fingers making you squirm from the pleasure, but it wasn’t enough.
‘I need to feel you.’ You breathed out and Theo didn’t waste a second.
He positioned himself on top of you and slowly entered your aching pussy. You threw your head back and he used that to immediately attach his lips to your neck once again.
‘’S okay, darling. You’re doing so good f’me.’ He whispered to help you relax.
His voice made you let go of the tension in your lower body, finally allowing him to move at a pace so perfect for both of you. He lifted you up and spinned both of you, so that you were on top of him. His thrusts became quicker and stronger, one of his hands was caressing your breasts, while the other rubbed your clit so deliciously. You cried out his name a few times when you were close, but he always stopped just then. He just smirked every time and continued his actions, it turned him on, watching you whine on top of him. He felt he was getting closer to his release, so he sped up again, and this time his hand stayed on your sweet spot. You reached your high with a loud moan and threw your head back, your hand grabbing Theo’s arm. He released inside of you with a loud groan and you used that to push away his hand which was still rubbing circles on your bud, too sensitive for more. You collapsed on top of him and gave him a peck on his collarbone. Theo reached for the blanket and covered the two of you.
‘I lied.’ You mumbled.
‘What?’
‘I’m not going with Cedric.’ You replied softly. ‘I told him I’d think about it and..’
‘Good.’ He interrupted. ‘You’re going with me then.’
‘Am I?’ You looked up at him playfully. ‘I thought you were taking Arisa.’
‘Who?’ He replied and you giggled. ‘She asked me to go. But I refused.’
‘Why? She’s a nice girl.’
‘Maybe. But she isn’t you.’ He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. ‘And I belong solely to you.’
•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•
@ girasollake 2024
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waitingonher · 4 months
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ALL DA LADIES LUV LEO! — [leo valdez dating headcanons]
author's note: i am ladies. where's my irl leo...wtf.
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you and LEO VALDEZ are the definition of “if you do it, i’ll do it.” (a VERY common phrase in your relationship)
istg this guy is down to do ANYTHING. you wanna play dress-up and do his makeup? go ahead. you wanna participate in some cheesy couple trend? of course! he’d do anything to make you happy <3 (even if it means ruining his dignity) 
leo has so much love for you, and he is NOT afraid to show it. he for sure owns a million different variations of the “i ❤️my girlfriend” tee-shirt. he’s worn them so much that even chiron and mr. d stopped pestering him for not wearing the chb shirt 😭 
y’know that one topic you could talk about for hours on end? yeah, well you’re the topic leo could talk about for hours on end. you always feel bad for the unfortunate new camper who decides to ask “who’s on your shirt?” it always ends in them making an excuse to get out of the conversation. 
some may say he’s obsessed…i just call it the bare minimum!! 🤗
leo absolutely LIVES for your little gossip sessions. he’s not one of those bf’s who will try to give actual advice on how to handle the situation,, he’s the type to fully shit talk the person with you 😭 you guys are literally the “she’s also ugly…” audio and i know for a fact you guys have made a video using it LMFAO
he also has the entire timeline memorized. he could tell you exactly what month, what day, and what time so and so wronged you if you asked 😭 leo’s absolutely invested and will ask for updates every so often. 
considering how leo spends so much of his time in bunker 9, it’s almost your second home at this point. you can’t even begin to count how many times you’ve fallen asleep sitting with him as he’s worked on a project. but leo always carries you to bed! there’s no way he could allow his girlfriend to wake up with a sore neck! 
speaking of bunker 9, leo keeps a bulletin board full of photos with you and all your friends next to his workbench! when working on a particularly hard project, he’ll look over at the photos for some motivation. 
there’s nothing better than successfully convincing leo to come to bed, especially during those cold winter nights. he’s basically a big heater that can walk and talk. and leo’s super duper big on cuddling so it’s even better. why invest in a heater when you have him? 
LMFAO it’s so funny when it’s summer and he’s basically on his knees begging for cuddles 😭 it’s only then that he curses his strangely high body temperature.  
i also think it’s canon that leo’s a good cook…?? so you’re always eating good with him!! he just loves seeing your reaction to his food, especially when it’s your cultural food. leo knows how important it is to you and to know he could provide some semblance of what you grew up with, it makes him beyond happy. 
when you give him hugs from behind while he’s cooking >>> 
he melts every single time.
omg. breakfast in bed with leo. him shirtless wearing an apron that says “kiss the cook” while bringing you a plate with all your favorite breakfast foods <33 
pda king 🙏🙏 he loves pda, but not in the gross, obnoxious way. leo’s obviously smart enough to know when it’s the right time and place. 
he’s also really big on “splitting the pole” LMFAO 😭 if you’re walking down the street and a street sign is in the way he will literally pull you to his side while screaming, “don’t split the pole!” babes…it’s not that serious 🤒
his love languages are words of affirmations and acts of service. there’s nothing better than coming home to cuddle with you as you whisper sweet nothings into his ear after a long day. he really values all your thoughts and opinions, so it means so much to him when you say these things. 
when it comes to you, leo’s so incredibly supportive with everything you do. the minute you even slightly hint about picking up a new hobby, he’s already encouraging you to do it. 
he gets so upset when he gets those “these initials are soulmates” videos and your initials aren’t together 😭 one time you woke up to an entire essay-length text from him explaining why you two are extremely compatible in response to a video that said “these initials aren’t compatible” 
leo’s VERY attentive, especially when it comes to you. at this point, it’s like he knows you better than you know yourself. he always knows what you’re gonna say simply by your reaction. his brain literally goes “oh her right eyebrow raised slightly, i think she likes it!” and he ends up being right too.. 😭
or when he goes shopping without you and he sees something he thinks you’d like, and it ends up being something you’ve been wanting for the past few weeks?? at this point he might be reading your mind…
this also makes him the best gift giver ever! it could’ve been something you barely mentioned before bed, but he made a point to remember it and surprises you with it. 
he also likes to make you little gadgets that you never would’ve even thought of but are so helpful. one day you walk into your bathroom and leo’s sitting there polishing his newest project, and he tells you it’s a towel heater he made for you??? 
leo absolutely loves your family and will do everything in his power to build a close relationship with them. he knows how happy it makes you and he also just genuinely enjoys their company too! ooh and if you have siblings, especially if they’re younger, he just adores them to death…UGH he’s so so good with kids. 
whenever he buys you flowers, he also buys some for your mom too!! and considering his mechanic skills, he loves to work with your dad with his car/whatever needs fixing around the house  😭😭 your parents basically treat him like their own son and leo feels so incredibly lucky to have you guys in his life. 
this guy’s your #1 hype man + your personal tripod. when he’s taking your picture he’s literally screaming compliments behind the camera while suggesting poses for you to do 😭 he’s just so silly like that! and then when you post it, he’s up in the comments like “i took these where’s my credit  🤨🤨” 
you guys are at each other’s cabins so often that no one’s ever fazed when you’re at the door. they’re just like “who’s at the door?” “just y/n again.” 
and his siblings absolutely love you to death. they see how happy you make him and they love you for it. but they’re also strangely protective of you too. when you and leo get into those rare arguments they’re always like “what’d you do this time  🤨?” to him LMAO 
ugh but your younger siblings and his younger siblings all look up to you guys like you’re the pinnacle of love. it’s genuinely so sweet,, they always talk about how they want a relationship like you two when they’re older 
dancing in the refrigerator light but in bunker 9 under his workbench light.
i like to believe that leo always has music playing when he works, so when a good dancing song comes on, he’ll drop whatever he’s doing to dance with you. 
sometimes it’ll be a song where you guys are just silently slow dancing together or it’s a song that has you two jumping up and down going crazy. the duality of his playlist! 
i just KNOW that at some point in your relationship, leo makes you a promise ring gjkdslfsl and i bet the stone has some sort of significance to you guys.
sometimes when you can’t wear it on your finger, you’ll string it onto your chb necklace and he just gets so giddy knowing that you care that much about it 😣
SPEAKING THROUGH MORSE CODE WITH HIM?? specifically when you’re in bed, both are too tired to talk, so you feel him tap “i love you” against your skin and you send the message back. 
can we all collectively agree that leo is like the most perfect boyfriend ever?? 😍😍 thanks!
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miryum · 4 months
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A Green and Silver Ring (Mattheo Riddle x Reader)
An arranged marriage between you and Mattheo, one that might lead to something beautiful
Word Count: 10.3k
I know I haven't posted in a long time but I have a plan trust the process. Also, this is me coming out and saying that I love Mattheo Riddle and he's amazing
Warnings: Swearing, bad and manipulative parenting from both Mattheo and reader’s parents, a lot of misogyny (a bit from Mattheo but he gets better by a lot and it’s not that bad), arguments, Tom isn’t Mattheo’s brother and Tom is a creep, arranged marriage, one bed trope, enemies to lovers, greek mythology reference, talk of kids, needing kids to carry on family lines, and kids. Mistress is the feminine term for master (so reader isn’t Mattheo’s side piece when I refer to her as mistress), old timey talk a bit, reader is a bookworm
From the desk of Ginevra
My dearest friend,
My parents have informed me of your engagement. I was ecstatic, yet surprised, when I heard the news. I was of the assumption that your parents were allowing you to choose your husband as your family line is secure in your brother and his wife. Yet, once I learned who your husband-to-be is, I was trepidatious. 
My thoughts are with you, my darling friend, and I pray for you to write to me the moment you get my letter. 
I hate to break the news, but you and your fiancé are the talk of high society. Never before have two such families been intertwined. Even I have had to scold my brothers for their gossip. They seem to forget that our families are close friends. 
I do not ask why your parents have made such a decision. I know they are intelligent adults and surely must have a motive, but I admit that I am blind in that regard. Your engagement seems sudden and unwarranted to me. When questioned, my mother sighed and said I would understand when I grew older. My mother continues to baffle me. I have borne two children and a third on the way! If I am not mature now, I better gain some knowledge quickly. 
Always remember that I am by your side. If you ever need anything, my door is always open to you. I am sure Harry will agree. 
I love you, my friend.
Ginny
From the office of Lorenzo
Miss. L/n,
I believe we’ve never been formally introduced. I’m saddened to say that this letter is as formal as we’ll get - at least until your wedding. I am sure you must be taciturn and mercurial as of now. My father has told me much about you and I believe we’ll make excellent friends and confidants in our hectic world. 
You’re to be my new half-sister, aren’t you? My relatives and friends are petulant to meet you. 
Before any rumours (either about myself or your fiancé) hit your ears, I’ll put a rest to them. Bellatrix, your fiancé’s mother, had an affair with my father. They produced me and in return, I have the privilege of being your fiancé’s half-brother. 
Being a bastard child, I’m no stranger to being ostracised and ridiculed. To be blunt, I’m sure that you will be ostracised alongside me and I believe that is one reason we can connect. 
For rumours of my half-brother, I simply say this: do not fear him. He relishes in the consternation he places in other people, yet when he heard he was to marry you, I saw panic in his eyes like no other. It seems the tables have turned. He is hesitant to be wed, but you are not the problem. He simply doesn’t want to have the responsibility of another’s life on his. Your fiancé is used to belittling people - not supporting them as a husband should.
Any questions you have about your fiancé and my half-brother (whom in case I didn’t make clear, are one and the same), refer to me without any qualms. I am eager to meet you and hopefully make your transition into the Riddle family smoother.
I am well aware you have also lived your life in the upper echelons of society. But, as I’m sure you know, there are multiple circles in our complicated community. The L/ns, the Weasleys, and the Potters, for example, have grown their fortunes truthfully and innocently. They have earned the respect of their people and those whom they employ. The Riddles, Blacks, and Berkshires, on the other hand, have climbed the ranks in unconventional means and by skipping a few rungs on the ladder. They thrive and make their living on the terror and duress they cause those under them.
I’m looking forward to making your acquaintance.
Lorenzo Berkshire
P.S. I hope I haven’t scared you off.
From the office of L/n
Daughter,
You’ll be pleased to hear the engagement has gone through. Your mother and I met your fiancé last night. He seems like a nice man. He will be able to provide for you. His family is influential.
We will return home late tomorrow evening. You will depart for Riddle Estate in a week. Begin packing. 
Your father
From the desk of Ginevra
Y/n,
You worry me with your lack of communication. Usually, you can’t wait to gossip with me. We have such fun at dinners and balls, yet with the most important aspect of yourself, you don’t respond. I’m simply worried, my friend. Are you alright? I can envision you curled in your bed, not letting anyone, even your nursemaid, into your room. Please do not let your impending marriage affect your state of health. It will turn out alright. Everyone I know (even me!) had apprehensions about their marriage. And with everyone I know, it turned out alright. 
Misters Sirius and Remus visited Harry and I the day before last. They came to see James and Albus, but I know there was a hidden reason as well. They know of our friendship and came to ask if the rumours are true. As much as my husband adores them, Sirius in particular can be prone to gossip. The pair tittered and tsked when I told them of your fiancé. Sirius wishes to distance himself from his family, and I know he has pre-existing thoughts of the Black family, and by extension, the Riddles.
Sometimes I take a moment to gaze at the family tree upon my drawing room wall. It is full of interconnected lines and squiggles that sometimes, it makes my head hurt! The web of family ties is complicated and if we’re not somehow related already, I know that we will be once your marriage takes place. It seems the Black family spreads its roots into the Weasley family and the Riddle family- the latter of which you’ll soon be synonymous with.
Give yourself some grace. Your fiancé falls far from the tree; I am sure of it.
Please write to me. I need to make sure my closest friend is doing well. 
Best wishes, 
Ginny
P.S. Hermione wishes to inform you that, from what she’s heard, your Mr. Riddle is quite attractive. I have yet to hear any of the rumours  myself, but at least your husband will be pleasing to the eye. Perhaps it will make the marriage more bearable. 
***
Mattheo strode leisurely through Riddle Manor. It was one of the many estates his family owned, and it was soon to be officially his. Just as soon as he married the L/n girl.
The manor was spacious, which Mattheo couldn’t help but detest. How was he and a wife supposed to fill this void of empty rooms and dark halls? He knew servants and cooks would move in, but they wouldn’t occupy the dozens of upper rooms that were vacated. 
For a brief moment, Mattheo couldn’t help but envision a set of children running around the halls. One of the children would run up to him, shouting, “Papa! Papa!” Mattheo would scoop the child up, grinning, and would carry them to their room. The room would be bright and cheerful, and maybe, just maybe, you would be sitting on a settee, cradling a newborn or helping an older child with their school work.
But for now, the room was dark and uninviting and he had yet to meet his future wife. He had seen a portrait of the L/n family and while they were in lavish, colourful clothing, Mr. and Mrs. L/n seemed cold and stoic - just like his parents. The children, an older son and younger daughter (whom he presumed to be you), seemed kinder and by their body language, Mattheo could tell that the two siblings were close. 
Mattheo slowly made his way down the hall. There were three wings of the manor; two were residential and the other was designed for taking guests. The East Wing - in which he and Miss. L/n would stay - was also fit with an office for him. He was expected to take over half of the family business once he got married. The West Wing would remain empty for now, sans for a large library and the furniture in the bedrooms. 
The boy knew that his bride was to arrive later that day. She would stay at Riddle Estate until the end of the week. Just three short days before they were to be wed in name. Mattheo would move into Riddle Manor tonight, giving servants time to wipe the dust off of tables, shine the silverware, and fluff the pillows. 
Mattheo walked the halls of his new home. His mind was devoid of any thoughts. Perhaps it was simply because he was always numb. Even when he heard of his engagement, Mattheo didn’t make a fuss. He didn’t remember thinking anything. Nothing such as ‘Oh, I can’t wait to meet her!’ or even, ‘I can’t believe mother and father are arranging my marriage! She better be obedient.’ 
No, Mattheo had thought nothing of the sort. He had spent his childhood quietly observing his father and mother, noticing the amount of fear they could inflict on people just by silence. You didn’t have to be loud and dramatic to be powerful. You simply couldn’t be afraid to follow up on your promises - however deadly they were. 
The only question Mattheo had asked when Bellatrix informed him of his engagement was, “and what do we gain from the L/n’s?”
Bellatrix had shot him an callous and apathetic look. “Do not ask questions you needn’t the answers to, boy.” 
Mattheo had glowered, but shut his mouth. 
As he neared the foyer, Mattheo couldn’t help but think how marriage was a component in all aspects of his life. When he got married to the L/n girl, he would inherit a portion of his father’s estates, company, and wealth. Mattheo chucked to himself. Maybe he should’ve gotten married sooner.
***
“Pray tell, why weren’t you here when she arrived?” Bellatrix snarled as she gripped Mattheo’s arm. Her nails dug into his suit as she dragged him towards the drawing room.
“I was busy,” Mattheo replied harshly. Love was not a thing that came instinctively to his family. 
“Doing what? Planning your suidide?” Bellatrix scoffed. “I would march to the Underworld and choke Hades to bring you back.” Mattheo glanced down at his mother, hesitantly surprised. But he knew better than to raise his hopes and dreams. “We need this contract with the L/n’s,” Bellatrix continued and Mattheo’s jaw ticked. Of course. She didn’t love him; she never had. Her son was purely business. He should’ve known better.
“Maybe if you would tell me what the L/n’s provide for us,” Mattheo pulled Bellatrix back before she threw open the door to where you were. “Then I would be more complacent.”
Bellatrix sneered. “You think you’re smart, boy. You think you have everything figured out in that pretty little head of yours. But remember: you’re nothing without the Riddle family name backing you up.” She paused and licked her lips. “But if you must know,” Bellatrix sighed, giving into Mattheo. “The L/n’s just came into some very… lucrative land that we could gain from if you marry Miss. Y/n L/n.”
Mattheo’s eyes flickered to the drawing room door. After a moment, he asked, “is that her name? Y/n?” 
Bellatrix stared at him, aghast. “You didn’t bother to learn her name?!” She scoffed. “With a son like you…” 
She pushed open the drawing room doors and Mattheo trudged after her, muttering, “at least I know her name now.”
You had been waiting for seven minutes and thirty nine seconds in the drawing room of Riddle Estate, the trackage of time dependent on the old grandfather clock standing ominously in the corner. Its pendulum swung back and forth continuously as its second hand ticked by. Mrs. Riddle had left seven minutes and thirty nine seconds ago to fetch her son. 
While the room was perfectly clean, not a speck of dust on even the highest chandelier, it was still a cold and morose room, yet oddly epochal. The wood was the darkest mahogany you had ever seen and the lights cast odd shadows on the dark green wallpaper that had inlays of gold.
Your teacup that you were trying to hold steady was filled with a sad excuse for tea. There was a ring of gold around the mouth of the teacup. On the table beside you, a notch that looked as if someone dug a knife into the surface caught your attention. It was the little things like this that you noticed when you had nothing else to do. Your mind was trying to distract you.
The door then swung open and there stood your fiancé, his stare daring you to oppose him.
“Uh,” you stood, your teacup and saucer still in hand. You quickly placed them on the table, right over the knife nick. “Y/n L/n,” you introduced yourself. You bowed your head in an informal curtsy. 
Mattheo’s eyes flickered over your face. “Mattheo Riddle,” he said coldly. His voice was practically velvet. You didn’t mean to look him up and down, but you couldn’t help it. He was to be your husband, after all.
Mattheo’s hair coiled at the end and his eyes were just as dark as his curls. His nose had a scarred cut on it that looked as if it was just beginning to heal. Your fiancés cheekbones were practically sculpted from marble and for a moment, you believed that the gods had simply breathed life into a statue. Did this make you Pygmalion and Mattheo Galatea?
If it weren’t for their lethal eyes and stern posture, perhaps more would be friendly to the Riddles.
Mattheo spoke, “you’re to be my fiancée.” It wasn’t a question. 
“Yes.” You had the urge to add ‘sir’ at the end, but you bit your tongue. 
Bellatrix hissed something to Mattheo and thrust a small object into his hands. Mattheo rolled his eyes and stalked towards you. “My family ring,” he grumbled. He held out an intricate silver ring with three bands interweaving. A green jewel cut into a thin diamond shape sat steadily in the middle. “It has been in the Riddle family for generations. It’s tradition to pass it down to the wife of the firstborn son. And now that is you…” 
He trailed off and handed the ring to you, it laying flat on his palm. You took it from him, trying to minimise contact with Mattheo. You nodded in thanks and slid it into your ring finger. 
It seemed too concrete to fathom.
Mattheo stared at the ring on your finger. A muscle jumped in his jaw. “My… wife,” he murmured halfheartedly.
***
Three weeks had passed since the wedding and it was as if you had never gotten married in the first place. Yes, it was unsettling to wake up in a bed that wasn’t your own next to a man that you were supposed to call your own. But other than necessary, Mattheo had hardly uttered a word to you.
In the three weeks you had stayed there, you had seen Mattheo a total of twenty eight times, including mornings and nights when you were forced to sleep in the same bed. 
Your mornings, afternoons, and nights were all incredibly boring. You took long meals, pushing your food around. Sometimes you just sat by the window and watched the wind blow bits of grass and dirt past the window. The servants were still extracting the dust between the couch cushions and you tried to stay out of the way, but it only made you feel more isolated.
Mattheo was holed up in his office day in and day out. He had now inherited a large portion of his father’s company and Mattheo was determined to uphold the honour bestowed upon him. He had drafted contracts, sold and bought land, and even hosted a few dinner parties for his associates. 
You detested the dinner parties. Thankfully, Mattheo had yet to invite you to one - hell, he had yet to speak to you about the dinner parties. You had learned of the first dinner party when you had wandered downstairs one late evening because you were thirsty. You had stared at the group of strangers, all dressed in elegance, as they stared back at you in your night clothes. Not saying a word, you had sighed and returned upstairs.
You hadn’t been eager for the marriage, but wouldn't it befit Mattheo to show some affection? Or at least acknowledge your presence?
While you had continuously tried to get your husband to open up to you, his answers had been short and venomous.
It had been a long, monotonous day for you. You had returned to the master bedroom about two hours earlier than you normally would have if you were at home.
With the wealth that you came from, the opulence was sure to be evident, but you had underestimated the Riddle family’s prestige. When Mattheo had first shown you your shared bedroom, you had to allow a flicker of surprise break through your facade. The bedroom was larger than any room in your old home and had a large bed in the middle. The lamps on the bedside table were always dimly lit and the design of the room was the same as the rest of the house - dark and bereft of love and care. 
Your hair had been brushed enough, but you kept brushing simply for something to do while Mattheo finished up in the bathroom. Mattheo walked out of the ensuite with a towel wrapped around his waist. His curls were plastered to his forehead and a bead of water ran down his sternum.
Your eyes flickered to his figure through the mirror, taking in the dips and curves of Mattheo’s muscles as he silently got ready for bed. You tore your gaze away, berating yourself.
You built up your courage and tried to think of a conversation starter. You commented, “my parents wrote to me today.” After no reply from Mattheo, you continued, “they asked me when we would give them grandchildren.” You set your hairbrush down and stared at Mattheo through the mirror, looking for some sort of reaction.
Mattheo hummed noncommittally and put on some sleep pants. He used his towel to begin drying his hair. “It would be behoove us to produce some heirs,” he spoke. His tone was dismissive, as if children were nothing more than an obligation or duty to fulfil.
“Right,” you muttered, knowing that an uninterested reaction was all you were going to get out of him. 
You stood and moved towards the bed. “Goodnight,” you whispered, turning off the bedside lamp and tucking yourself into bed. Mattheo was still putting on his nightclothes and had yet to get into bed.
As you turned off the light and got into bed, Mattheo finished drying himself off and slid into his own pyjamas. He sat down beside you, but didn't bother turning off his own lamp. Instead, he laid against the headboard, reading a book. "Goodnight," he finally mumbled, not even looking at you.
You curled into your blanket. After a moment, you asked quietly, “what book are you reading?”
He looked at you over the top of his book. "None of your business," he replied curtly.
You simply uttered, “okay.” 
Mattheo felt an unwanted and unusual feeling root itself deep in his stomach. He scoffed and said sarcastically, "fine. Go ahead and keep asking questions all night long if it amuses you so." He opened his book again and pretended to read.
A longing and lonely pang resonated in your chest at his harsh words. You didn’t respond and instead turned your face into your pillow. You had known that your marriage was to be loveless, but it still hurt at every unspoken word. Perhaps, if you had been five years younger when you married Mattheo, your spirit would still be alive with the juvenile belief that you could stand up to him.
Mattheo huffed and his gaze turned up to stare at the wall ahead of him. “If you’re so miserable, then why don’t you just leave?” he snapped, not even bothering to hide his bitterness. “I am sure your family would simply love to have you back.” He flipped another page in his book, not even bothering to look at the printed words.
“I never said I was miserable,” you answered quietly, even though Mattheo knew it wasn’t true. Perhaps, though, you believed it to be true. You took a steadying breath, closing your eyes.
Your husband smirked and leaned against the headboard. “What do you call your attitude, then? Why are you so downtrodden and defeated? Surely, you can’t blame me for being frustrated by it.” He knew that he should be taking account of making you feel this way, but he still tried to justify his behaviour. 
“Goodnight,” you reiterated. 
Mattheo sighed dramatically. “Whatever,” he grunted. He closed his book, threw it on the nightstand, and turned off his lamp. The room was encased in darkness except for the dim moonlight coming through the window. He shifted towards the edge of the bed, making sure a noticeable gap was between the two of you. 
He thought back to your conversation. “Why don’t you just leave?” 
It was too late now to apologise.
***
Mattheo let the door swing shut behind him, returning to Riddle Manor after an outing with friends. He glanced around, waiting for a servant to take his coat, but no one answered. An eyebrow cocked, Mattheo slowly walked up the stairs, hearing you instruct the servants on something, every other sentence of yours either containing, ‘please’ or ‘thank you’. Up on the landing, he found you directing a servant who was pulling a rack of your clothing. “What the hell are you doing?” he demanded. “Have you lost your damn mind? Are you trying to send a message or something?” 
“You’ve made it perfectly clear that you have no interest in me, so I’m trying to make this marriage as civilised as possible,” you said diplomatically. “I believe that if I move to the West Wing and leave you in the East Wing, it will benefit our marriage.”
“What exactly do you hope to accomplish with this piteous attempt at attention?” he asked rhetorically. “Do you think it’ll make me want you more?” He stuck his tongue in his cheek, grinning incredulously. “You’re delusional if you think that’s even remotely possible.” He stepped closer to you, towering over you with anger in his eyes. “This is not some game, L/n. This is marriage. You’re stuck with me whether you like it or not.” 
“I’m aware that we’re married, Riddle,” you retorted. “And don’t refer to me by L/n anymore. I am now a Riddle - just like you. However, I am not going to live in a state of constant sorrow and dejection. Having a wing of the mansion to myself may help.” 
Mattheo’s jaw tightened as he stared at you, irritated by your resistance. “Fine,” he growled. “But don’t expect me to come running after you when you decide you want attention. You’re on your own now.” He turned away from you and walked into his now solo bedroom. “Just remember - this is your choice.” 
You felt your anger inflate. “I thought you would like this!” Your voice rose and you tugged a hand through your hair. It was the first time in your marriage that you had fought back. “I have done everything I can to please you, yet nothing is enough for you!” Your voice turned desperate. “What do you want from me?”
He stopped in his tracks, turning around with surprise and disgust on his face. “Dammit, Y/n! Don’t yell at me like that!” His voice thundered, stepping towards you. “I never asked for any of this! I didn’t ask for a wife or for you to try so hard to please me! All of this is ridiculous.” His hand slashed through the air to make a point. “All I want is some space. Space to figure out what the hell I want. But let’s make one thing clear: I don’t care about you.”
“Am I not giving you space?” Your fists clenched at your sides. “I am moving out of the bedroom and out of your way. Yet, you erupt at me and get angry over nothing! You send me mixed messages and I don’t know what to do.”
Mattheo took a breath, trying to regain control over his emotions. “I am not erupting! Lord, you are so sensitive!” he snapped, running a hand over his face. “Can’t you listen for once? I am not sending you mixed signals. I am trying to figure out my place in this unorthodox situation we’re in.”
After a beat of silence, you asked firmly, “did you talk about me?” After seeing a flicker of confusion on his face, you clarified, “when you were out with your friends, did you talk about me? Did you rant about how annoying I was? Did you complain about marriage?”
His lips parted before taking a breath. “Yes, I talked about you,” he admitted begrudgingly. “I complained about how frustrating I find you and how frustrated I am with my parents for arranging this senseless marriage.”
“What did they say?” you insisted. “Did they sympathise? Did they laugh at me? Did they add fuel to your fire by commenting about how… how ‘needy’ and ‘sensitive’ I am?”
Mattheo made a low sound in his chest and rubbed his temples, frustrated by your persistence. “They agreed with me, yes. A few believed that you are too emotionally attached and sentimental. Others chalked it up to the pains of an average marriage.”
Your anger flared up and you said, “Let me tell you this: I never wanted marriage either. But I at least tried. I tried to be a nice and loving wife and a kind human.” You turned on your heel, marching out of the bedroom and towards the West Wing.
Mattheo watched you go, an unwanted feeling of guilt washing over him. He sighed and walked over to the window. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. “Why is everything so damn complicated?”
For the next couple of weeks, you stayed true to your word. You avoided Mattheo and his office and stayed in your wing of the mansion. After a week or two, you decided to explore the mansion, stumbling upon a magnificent library. You inhaled in veneration when someone cleared their throat. Mattheo stood behind you, raising an brow. After a silence, you said recalcitrantly, “you never told me that Riddle Manor had a library.”
He smirked at your thinly veiled hatred, amused despite himself. “Well, now you know,” he said dryly. “It’s a perk of living in a Riddle household.” He walked over to a bookshelf and began browsing for a book he required for a contract that was being drafting. He showed no sign of embarrassment or discomfort at your presence. “You may use it whenever you want. But don’t expect me to join a book club or anything juvenile.”
“I would never dream of it,” you said sarcastically. You step further into the library and can’t help but gape at the vastness. You trailed your fingers over the book spines, breathing in the smell of old books. You crouched down to examine a series of poetry titles. “I can read any of these?” you asked hesitantly.
He nodded and leaned against the shelf behind him, crossing his arms over his chest. “Feel free to read whatever you would like. They’re here for the entire household. Well, the servants don’t have time to read books, so in a Riddle household, the parents and children use the library the most.” Your hand faltered over the titles. “If you find something that catches your eye, go ahead and take it. I won’t stop you.” There was a hint of curiosity in his voice, as if he wished to know what topics and books piqued your interest. You hummed quietly, not fully acknowledging his words. You were already picking up a book and leafing through it. Mattheo watched you for a moment, his eyes softening briefly.
Everyday, you returned to the library. It was an escape from the walls of your room and the walls that Mattheo had put up around his heart.
Eventually, the servants recognised your routine and began to start a fire in the fireplace to keep you warm. They moved a loveseat in front of the fire that you gratefully used. You devoured the poetry collection, including Shakespeare and Edgar Allen Poe, and started on the classics. Every once in a while, Mattheo would come into the library, but he wouldn’t talk. He simply took a book and returned to his study. Sometimes, you wondered if he remembered you lived in the mansion with him. 
Mattheo found himself frequenting the library more often, looking for books he had never needed before. A swell of pride filled him whenever he saw you by the fire, knowing that something in his home brought you such comfort. He still refused to speak to you, maintaining distance and ignoring your existence, but he found himself increasingly drawn to your presence. 
One day, on a whim, he decided to take a risk and left a stack of his favourite books on the table next to your chair. That afternoon, you found the stack of books. You smiled despite yourself, though you didn't make any comment to Mattheo. You picked up the first book, sat down in the chair, and began to read.
A week later, Mattheo was hosting a dinner party for his associates. He didn’t say a word about it to you, though you heard the servants preparing for it. You decided not to go, opting to stay in your safe haven of the library. 
After an hour or so of faint music, you heard the door to the library squeak open and your head whipped up. You saw one of Mattheo’s friends, Tom, enter and look around. He spotted you and his lips curled up into a smirk. “So you’re the wife we’ve heard so much about?” 
Your stomach clenched and you replied, “I guess so.”
Tom’s smirk grew wider as he took in your terse response, enjoying your obvious discomfort. He approached you with a lecherous gaze in his eyes before asking, “and how do you find life as Mrs. Riddle? Are you enjoying your… arrangement?” His words dripped with sarcasm, not believing for a moment that you and Mattheo were married for love.
You stared at him. “It has its perks,” you said simply.
Tom laughed derisively at your response, not convinced by your nonchalance. “And what are those perks?” he asked, moving closer to you. “Extravagant gifts? Luxurious vacations? Or simply the privilege of being married to such a powerful man?”
You squared your shoulders. “I am powerful without a man,” you said sharply. “I do not need a man to determine my worth and prowess.”
Tom scoffed. “Really? How exactly did you become powerful on your own?” he asked, challenging you. “I find it hard to believe that you could ever achieve anything significant without the backing of a powerful husband behind you.” He leaned in closer, grinning.
You closed your book with a snap. “The L/n family,” you said, talking of your maiden lineage, “has had control over many estates and affairs for decades. Without Mattheo Riddle, I would’ve inherited half of it, second only to my brother. I would’ve had four auspicious companies at my ready disposal, capable of doing most anything. So, yes, sir, I would have been momentous without him.”
Tom’s smirk faded as he recognised your family name. He remained undeterred, however, stating, “that explains why your husband was so eager to marry you. He must see you as a valuable asset to his business empire.”
As you opened your mouth to retort, the door banged open and Mattheo strode into the library.
Mattheo had noticed Tom’s absence from his party, but when it became too long to be excused as a restroom break, Mattheo had asked his brother, Enzo, if he had seen where he had gone. Enzo had smiled a small smile and whispered, “Tom went to the library. Where your darling wife stays hidden.”
Mattheo saw red. 
He barged into the library, a deadly, lethal, and borderline possessive look deep in his eyes. When he saw Tom flanking you, Mattheo’s expression darkened and his hands clenched into a ready fist. “What the hell are you doing here?” Mattheo demanded, his voice low and dangerous. “This is a private wing of my home - not some place for you to bother my wife.” 
Mattheo moved closer to you, placing himself between you and Tom as if to protect you from further harm. 
Tom quickly stepped back and placed a confident demeanour on his face. “I was simply having a conversation with your lovely wife here,” Tom gritted his teeth.
You scoffed and rolled your eyes, showing clearly that Tom was lying and intruding. You saw Mattheo’s eyes flicker down to you, his eyes softening reassuringly before snapping back to Tom, malice in his gaze. 
“Don’t lie to me,” Mattheo snapped at Tom. “There’s no need for any sort of interaction or conversation with my wife unless I am present.” Mattheo placed a hand on the top of your chair, his fingers gripping it and his bicep flexing slightly to warn Tom.
Tom’s eyes flicked with something you hadn’t seen before: fear. Fear commonly associated with the Riddle name. He adjusted his collar and straightened his posture. “Of course, Mr. Riddle,” he said bitterly.
You raised a brow. “I think it’s time for you to go now,” you said, your face stoic. Tom bowed his head slightly before exiting the library. You didn’t look up to meet Mattheo’s eye. You murmured, “you didn’t have to do that. I had it covered.”
Mattheo watched Tom until he completely left the room before turning to look down on you. His voice was threatening, “you may have been able to handle Tom, but I won’t tolerate anyone disrespecting or harassing you while you’re under my roof. Consider this a warning - if anyone tries to cross you again, they will regret it.” 
“Perhaps you should tell your coworkers that. Not me,” you replied. 
Mattheo’s expression was cold. “Fine. I will,” he growled. “I will not sit idly by and allow anyone to disrespect my wife.” He let go of your chair and adjusted the cuffs of his suit. As if in a business meeting, he said, “And consider this another warning: if you continue to act so stubbornly, I won’t hesitate to remind you of your place in this marriage.”
“My place in this marriage is your wife!” you cried out, finally standing up. “Your equal! Something you seem to forget until it’s convenient for you. Or until another man threatens your… your property! I doubt you see me any differently than this house or your assets.”
Mattheo grabbed onto your arm tightly, pulling you close and leaning down so his face was inches from yours. “Do not ever speak to me like that. You are not my equal - you are my wife and I decide what is best for both of us. If you cannot accept that, then you should reconsider your place in this marriage.” He released your arm and turned away from you, striding towards the door. “I suggest you reflect on your behaviour,” he added icily, leaving the room without looking back.
After he left the library, you let out a scream of frustration. You shoved the pile of books that Mattheo had carefully curated to the floor. They tumbled down, book after book, covers opening and pages bending. Tears pricked at your eyes as you examined the scene. 
You slumped into your chair, the fire in front of your crackling softly, emitting a calming warmth.
Eventually, you fell asleep in the chair, tear stains on your cheeks. In the morning, you woke to the serene morning light filtering into the room - a vast contrast to your mood. The fire had dissolved into crackling embers. Tucked on top of you was a thick blanket and the stack of books that you had pushed over had been re-piled and stood majestically atop the table.
You sighed, knowing you should thank the servants for taking care of you and cleaning up. 
After you walked to the kitchen, your footfalls heavy, you thanked the servants, who were finishing preparing breakfast. They exchanged glances and one piped up, “Ma’am, while we appreciate the sentiment, we didn’t do that. We weren’t aware that you were still in the library. We believed you had retired to bed before the social last night.” They paused and then added, “however, Mr. Riddle didn’t go to bed. He was in his study until morning light.”
“Oh,” was all you could say. You bid them an awkward goodbye before entering the dining hall. 
Mattheo was already seated at the head of the table, his expression exhausted and distant. He didn’t acknowledge you when you approached, focusing instead on the uneaten plate of food in front of him. 
You sat down opposite him and muttered, “the servants informed me that you blanketed me last night and cleaned up the books.” You hesitated and finally said, “thank you.”
Mattheo looked up briefly, his expression unreadable, but he didn’t respond directly. “It was necessary,” he said simply. “You should not be cold and uncomfortable in your own home.” He doesn’t make any effort to engage in conversation beyond that. Something was weighing heavily on his mind and he seemed preoccupied by it.
You hummed in response. Eventually, you stood and whispered to your husband before walking out, “you are not as cold as you want to seem. You needn’t keep the facade up with me.”
Mattheo looked up briefly before returning to his food. His expression relaxed, but he didn’t respond.
***
Later that day, Mattheo sat in his study as he always did. A knock came from the door and he glanced at the clock. It was a bit early for lunch to be delivered, but he announced, “come in.”
The door creaked open and your head peeked into the room. Mattheo’s brows furrowed - not with malice, but with scrutiny. You entered and sat in one of the two seats next to his fireplace. Silently, you cracked open a book you had brought and began to read. 
Mattheo watched you intently, his gaze never wavering as he took in every detail of your face. He tried to find any acrimonious intent behind your actions, but you looked so peaceful. He found himself noticing the details of your face and your beauty as the fire cast warm highlights on your eyes. “What are you doing?” he asked eventually, his voice holding an armour of needed suspicion.
“Reading,” you said simply. 
Mattheo frowned, not convinced by your answer. Why would you read in his study after the way he had been treating you? He leaned back in his chair, his work forgotten. “Isn’t there something more important that you could be occupying your time with?” he challenged.
“Not particularly,” you responded. “You’re in charge of the companies and estates. I have nothing to do. I thought I would accompany you. You must get lonely in a study by yourself.”
Mattheo narrowed his eyes, but ultimately nodded slowly. “Alright,” he agreed after a moment. “But don’t think I will stop working simply because my wife is here.” His posture grew taut as he began looking over documents again. “This is still my office and I expect you to behave accordingly.”
“I’m simply reading,” you murmured, a smile inching its way up your lips.
Henceforth, a routine was established. Every morning, you would knock on Mattheo’s study door, usually an hour or so after he began working. There was rarely conversation, the silence being broken by Mattheo’s scratch of a quill or you turning pages, occasionally being disrupted by the loud crack of a log in the fire.
One day, you had finished your book (it was an excellent book, one from the pile Mattheo had recommended) and stood to go retrieve another one. At the sound of your footsteps leaving his office, Mattheo’s head darted up and he suddenly asked, “where are you going?” 
You paused and turned back to him. “I’m to get a new book. Unfortunately, as wonderful as this one was, it had an ending like all books do.”
Mattheo frowned and a hint of vulnerability broke through his exterior. “Get a servant to do it,” he offered. 
“Well, I don’t know which one I want,” you counted, raising a brow in a smirk.
He huffed and shook his head, returning his eyes to his documents. He grumbled, “I will commission the servants to build you a small bookshelf for my office. You can keep your books there.” You stood, watching him for a moment, admiring him until his gaze snapped up. “Well, go get your book,” he said sharply. “… but hurry back,” he added in a mumble. 
You finally smiled at him before exiting and Mattheo gazed at the place you once stood, trying to memorise how your lips curled up and your eyes crinkled when you smiled.
He rather liked it when you smiled.
***
“Are you alright?”
You sniffed and laughed. “Yes, yes. I’m being foolish.” You wiped some tears from your eyes. “My book is very good.”
Mattheo chuckled lowly. “And what made you cry, hm?”
“A daughter and father interaction,” you replied quietly. 
“Was the father cruel to the daughter?” Mattheo laughed tersely, shaking his head at his documents. “Are your feelings not strong enough to withstand their wrath?”
You frowned at Mattheo, setting the book down. “No,” you corrected slowly. “The father was being kind to his daughter. He was supporting her and loving her; as a father should.” There was a pause as Mattheo looked up at you. “I know that the Riddles are a harsher family - I’ve known ever since I knew I was to marry you. But… but are you alright?” 
You felt absurd asking the question. Yet, when Mattheo couldn’t meet your eye, a wistful sadness blanketing the room, you felt as if you should’ve asked the simple question weeks earlier.
For a moment, he said nothing. Then Mattheo turned in his chair so his back was facing you. "I'm fine," he finally answered, his voice rough and strained. "I am used to dealing with it, I suppose." Despite his insistence that he didn't need anyone's pity or concern, your words seem to have affected him more deeply than he wanted to admit. 
“May I ask a question?” you asked softly.
Mattheo hesitated for a moment before nodding, his eyes never leaving the window as he spoke. "Ask away," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. He then cleared his throat and said, "but I won’t give a warm and fuzzy answer." 
There was a pregnant pause in the air as you gathered your courage up and suddenly thrust your fears upon your husband. “If we ever have children, which we’re somewhat expected to,” you added hurriedly. “I don’t want them to grow up in a household where they feel as if they have to vie for love or attention. And I don’t want me to be the only one giving them attention.” Mattheo turned his head so his face was angled toward you, but his eyes could still stray to the window if need be. “If we have kids, can you promise that you’ll love them? Even if you don’t love me?” 
Even though your voice was steady, Mattheo knew of the vulnerability deeply rooted within you.
He nodded cautiously, his expression serious. "I promise," he said firmly. "I may not love you, but I will love our children unconditionally. They will never have to compete for my affection or feel neglected. I may not be a fond father, but I will provide for them and protect them as best I can." A protectiveness filled his veins just at the thought of something happening to his future children. 
You nodded once, a sad smile on your face. “Perhaps we’ll have a big family. Enough children to start a sports team.” You smiled at the thought, laughing lightly.
Mattheo smiled, despite himself, imagining a large brood of children running around the manor. It was an oddly appealing idea, even if he wouldn't admit it out loud. "We'll see," he said noncommittally. "I'd rather have lots of sons; they'll carry on the family name and ensure my legacy continues." He turned back around and attempted to focus on his work.
“And daughters too.” You frowned, staring at your husband, even if he wouldn’t spare you a glance. “Daughters can carry on the family name just as well as sons.” A muscle in your jaw ticked.
Mattheo scowled at your defiance, his eyes narrowing slightly. Why hadn’t you just fallen into line? "Fine, daughters too," he reluctantly agrees. "But make no mistake, they will be raised to be strong and capable like their brothers. The Riddle name demands nothing less." 
“And the sons can be soft and caring and sensitive,” you said firmly, crossing your arms. “I thought we agreed that they wouldn’t have to vie for affection. I thought we agreed that they wouldn’t have needless competition in their life. I don’t want them to grow up… like, well… you.” You finally uttered the words that had been hanging off your tongue dangerously. 
Mattheo’s expression hardened as he clenched his fist tightly. "Fine!" he snapped. "They can be whatever the hell you want them to be! But don't expect me to sit back and watch while they become weaklings and failures. We need to teach them to be strong and ruthless like I am." He stood up abruptly, knocking over his chair in the process.
You jump up after him, crossing towards him. You whirled to a stop in front of him, jabbing a finger towards his chest. “Listen here, Riddle. Just because someone is kind and vulnerable doesn’t mean they’re weak!” You growled, “and just because you grew up like that, does not mean that’s the type of household I am going to have.”
Mattheo stepped forward and his hand flew up to grip your wrist. His eyes blazed with anger, but then something changed in his expression and he took a step back, looking surprised at his own reaction. "You're right," he admitted begrudgingly. "I shouldn't have assumed that being vulnerable meant being weak." He ran a hand through his hair, looking embarrassed, yet resolute in his decision. "But don't expect me to be a pushover either. I'll still teach them to be strong and independent."
“Strong and independent are good qualities,” you conceded. “Both for the boys and girls.”
"Agreed," he said. Mattheo straightened his cuffs and cleared his throat. "Our children will be taught to be strong and independent, regardless of gender. They will know that they are loved and valued by both of us, equally." He held out his hand to you, indicating that the argument was over - for now at least. "Deal?" 
“Deal.” You shook his hand defiantly. It was a business deal, but a good deal at least.
Mattheo exhaled and brushed past you. “I’m to a meeting,” he informed you. It was a simple comment , one that was an offhand remark, but to you, Mattheo had just let you into his life. It was something he had never done before. Even if it was just a response to where he was off to, it was a window into his life. A life that now may have enough room to hold you. 
Mattheo paused when he reached the door. “I never knew the way I grew up was wrong until I saw other families. I saw the parents bending down to listen to their children instead of hushing them. I saw parents comforting their children after scraped knees, not pushing them to the kitchen for some rubbing alcohol. I saw parents beaming when their child could plunk out the simplest of tunes on the piano. No one else got berated for being out of rhythm or playing a D instead of an E. I never saw another child get slapped by their parents or scolded as harshly as I was. It was around then I realised that something was wrong. But what was I to do about it?”
Words dried in your throat. You wanted to cry at his words, but you felt dried out. How could someone treat their child like that? It explained so much… 
Your husband was a fragile man, you were just realising. And he was trying to pick up the pieces and present them to you in the only way he knew how. 
"The stars remind me of you,” he said quietly, the change in conversation sudden. “I mean that in the best possible way.” His voice was the softest and most tender as you had ever heard it. You hoped he would keep speaking the melodies that made your heart sing in tune. 
“How so?” you asked, afraid to break the plane of existence that you and Mattheo were carefully standing on.
"They are so beautiful, yet so far away. I may see them, but I can never touch them."
***
The servants didn’t know what to do. The master and mistress, Mr. and Mrs. Riddle, seemed to be at a ceasefire. The cooks lamented at how they had seemed to be doing so well. The maids thought they were destined to doom from the start. The butlers gossiped about Mr. Riddle’s letters to a Mr. Tom, terminating their long-term partnership. The scullery maid still had hope that the husband and wife would come to their senses and live a happy life.
It perplexed the servants when the mistress requested to move her belongings back into the master bedroom and the master looked on, a soft smile on his lips. It confused the servants when the Mr and Mrs began taking meals together and talking in hushed tones late into the night. And it bamboozled the servants when, one summer afternoon, the Lord of the household stood from his desk, cautiously moved to his Lady that was reading by the open window, and asked her to accompany him on a walk. She had accepted. 
There was to be a dinner party, this time hosted at Mr. Draco Malfoy’s manor, that Mr. Riddle was expected to attend. Per usual, the master didn’t invite the mistress, but she was content to stay home. A maid briefly heard the madam whisper to her husband, “hurry home, please? I don’t like it when you’re away.” The maid had scurried away before she could hear the reply.
Mattheo returned home that night, just before the sun was setting. He climbed the steps, unbuttoning his cuffs and loosening his tie. The soft glow of light was still shining under your shared bedroom - something he still hadn’t gotten used to - and Mattheo couldn’t help but smile.
“Why are you still up?” he asked quietly when he entered the room.
“You promised to be home early and I wanted to see you before I go to bed,” you reminded him, a small book in your hands.
“Right, right.” Mattheo chuckled and shook his head, slinging off his tie and jacket.
“How was the dinner?”
Mattheo hummed noncommittally. “Not the worst. A couple of my good friends, Theo and Pansy, were there to help alleviate the pain of socialising. But… I found something odd happening.”
“And what was that, husband?” Mattheo took a moment to relish in the way that word curled off your tongue effortlessly.
“I found myself wishing you were there. Nay,” he quickly corrected himself. “I wished I was here with you.”
“Oh?” Your eyes flickered up towards Mattheo, a slight blush coming to your cheeks. “Why… what do you mean by that?”
Mattheo began to unbutton his shirt and moved towards his closet. “Well,” he admitted, mumbling to himself. “I simply mean that instead of having to socialise with people who are too tightly wound and whose only intent is to take my money,” he chucked his belt into his closet and rolled up his sleeves, “I would rather be at home with my darling wife.”
A smile inched up your lips. “Really? Tell me more about this darling wife of yours.”
Mattheo hummed, stepping towards the bed. He crawled down on the bed, leaning on his forearms to lean up towards you. “My wife… I’ve come to care deeply about her. She is a beautiful, elegant woman, one who has a fiery tongue about her and an intelligent brain that even I cannot rival. She always seems to get her way, even when I try to fight back. It’s as if my wife has a command over me that I have willingly submitted to. And I am not ashamed to say so.” He lightly caressed your arm, sending a trail of goosebumps up your skin. 
“You must be careful, Mattheo,” you uttered. “That sounds an awful lot like love.” 
Mattheo brought his eyes up to meet yours, the sting of tears building up behind them. His voice cracked as he said, “that’s the first time you’ve called me by my name, Y/n.”
Your lips parted in shock. “I- I didn’t realise. I’m sorry-”
“Don’t you dare apologise,” Mattheo demanded before reaching up to pull you into a kiss. 
His lips were soft and meaningful against yours, hungrily trying to gather every ounce of love from you. His kisses were feverish at first, his strong hand coming up to cup your jawline, his fingers just teasing behind your ear, before his lips slowed. Mattheo was a starved man and he wouldn’t let anyone take away his only solace. He shifted so he could be closer to you, gently taking the book from your hands as you surrendered yourself to him. Your hands found his silk shirt, gripping it in your fists. He placed the book on the nightstand and moved so he was hovering over you, never once letting a second go by without feeling your skin against his. 
Mattheo slowly, achingly pulled away from you and his eyes fluttered open to meet yours. “My darling, my love, my life,” he murmured, dragging a knuckle down your cheek. “I apologise for everything I have ever done or said that made you feel inferior. I would be happy to kneel for you in front of my associates and family members - just to show them how much power you have over me.” He took a breath before persisting, “I was foolish. I was incompetent. I didn’t realise how much love I held for you. It is, and always will be, only you. I will promise you this: you will be the only woman I ever touch, the only voice I ever want to hear, the only skin I will ever caress, and the only eyes I ever want to see. I will wake and fall, every morning and night, thinking of you. You are the other half of my heart, for it is you who I love. I will place the galaxies and stars in the night sky for you. If you are ever unhappy, my love, I will not rest until I see you smile again. If you are ever mad, my love, I shall smite whatever upsets you, even if it is I. And I would die a happy man if you could give me only an ounce of what I give you.”
Your breath shook and you swore Mattheo had injected ambrosia into your veins for you were sure your blood was singing with the love that was filling your soul. “I wrote a letter to your mother today,” you offered quietly, as if your mere words could ever compare to the love poem Mattheo had just gifted to you. “And I thanked her.” Mattheo’s eyes flashed with confusion. You continued, “I thanked her for birthing such a wonderful husband and for raising him. I know you u wish to renounce your family, but as of now, I want to thank them with all my heart. Mattheo, I love you.”
“And I you,” Mattheo whispered, bringing his forehead down to rest on yours. His nose bumped against your cheek and he couldn’t contain his grin anymore. “How did I ever get so lucky?” he mumbled.
You laughed lightly. “Luck? Fate?”
Mattheo shook his head and his nose brushed light curves over your skin. “No, my wife. Simply love. Pure, unconditional love.”
***
The house was bright, the curtains pulled as far open as they could be. Some servants scuttled around, holding laundry or preparing for dinner. Meanwhile, Mattheo strode leisurely through the halls, smiling lovingly as his nephews chased each other through the halls. “What do I say, boys?” he called after them.
“Have fun, be safe, and don’t get caught!” they yelled back before running around a corner.
Enzo jogged after them and grumbled to Mattheo, “it’s not your duty to rule them up.”
“As their favourite uncle, yes, it is.”
“Your wife is in Andromeda’s room,” Enzo told his brother before sprinting off after his sons. Enzo wasn’t usually at Riddle Manor, but today was a special day. It was Orion’s birthday.
Mattheo chuckled to himself before Orion raced up the steps, panting. “Papa! Papa!” 
Mattheo grinned widely and scooped Orion up. “Are you alright, hm? What’ve you been up to?”
“Aunt Pansy’s carriage just pulled up!” Orion bounced in Mattheo’s arms, beaming.
“And you’re not even dressed,” Mattheo stared at Orion, pretending to be stunned. “Where’s your mother, Ori?”
“She’s helping Andy get dressed,” Orion announced. Mattheo nodded and carried his son to his daughter’s room. “Mum!” Orion cried out, seeing Y/n standing behind Andromeda, knotting her hair into a braid. 
“Oh, my darling,” Y/n tied Andy’s hair up before crossing to Mattheo and taking Orion from his arms. “Are you excited for your birthday?”
Orion hummed excitedly and wiggled down from Y/n’s arms. He darted to Andromeda and wrapped himself around her in a tight hug. Andromeda grumbled, but allowed him to cling to her as she finished her hair and rouge.
Mattheo took Y/n’s hand and pulled her back toward him, nudging his nose against hers. “Look at that,” he murmured, reaching down to play with the silver and green ring on your finger. “Mine.” He pressed a kiss to your temple. Slowly, as to not arouse suspicion from your children, he backed you up and caged you against the wall in his arms. “Seven years with you and two beautiful children to show for it.”
“Hey, mum? Where’s my- eugh!” Andromeda turned around and reeled back from the scene in front of her. “For the love of Salazar, please get a room!”
“We are in a room.” Mattheo smirked, glancing up from the crook of your neck. 
“Aren’t you two, if I'm doing my calculations correctly, nearing thirty years old?” Andromeda tsked and rolled her eyes. 
“You believe that simply because we’re getting older, I’m going to stop loving your mother?”  Mattheo chuckled before pressing a light kiss to your jawline. 
You shivered and tucked your face into your husband’s chest. “Matty, spare the poor children,” you chastised lightly. “What do you need, darling?” you turned towards Andromeda.
“You used to call me that,” Mattheo whined. He stepped back from you, letting you out of his embrace.
Andromeda sighed and asked, “where is my white shawl? It’ll go well with the dress I’m planning to wear to Orion’s party.”
“Why does it matter what you wear to Orion’s party?” Mattheo asked, puzzled. 
“Because Albus Potter is going to be here,” you said as if it were obvious.
“Harry Potter’s son?” Mattheo asked incredulously. “That scumbag?”
Both you and Andromeda ignored Mattheo and Orion left the room at the sound of Aunt Pansy entering the foyer and shouting out for her favourite nephew.
“Your shawl should be in the library,” you answered. “Ori was using it as a blanket yesterday.”
Andromeda sighed and turned towards the door. “He needs to stop taking my things. Just last week he stole my candelabra so he could read in the dark. Perhaps you should accelerate his schooling. He’s getting bored, you know.”
“We’ll raise our own son, thank you, Andromeda,” Mattheo raised a brow. Andy huffed and and flicked her dress out behind her dramatically, exiting the room. Mattheo turned to you and said, “they get that from you. The love of reading.”
“Yes, but they get their flair for the dramatics from you. And lest us not forget, you keep fuelling our love of literature by buying more books and expanding our library,” you countered.
Mattheo hummed. “‘Tis true. But how could I live without spoiling my wife and children?” He whirled you around in his arms and pressed a long kiss to your lips. “Speaking of children, what would you think of expanding our family?”
You let out a laugh. “You simply like the act of making a bigger family.”
“I love my children too,” Mattheo defended.
You reached up and brushed some of his hair away from his face. “Yes you do,” you smiled up at him. “You love your family very much.”
“Always.”
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saetoshi · 1 year
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sae loves it when you gossip with him. (not that he’ll ever admit it, of course.)
he used to find it annoying, actually. he didn’t find any sense in listening to what was happening in other people’s lives.
until he started paying attention to what you were saying, and his interest was, begrudgingly, piqued.
itoshi sae looks forward to your gossiping. (he’d rather eat shit than tell you that, though.)
the very moment the door to your apartment swings open his body instinctively turns in your direction, his gaze snapping up from his phone to look at you in anticipation.
excitement bubbles in him when he hears you call out his name from the entrance.
he clenches his hands in anticipation when he hears your slippers shuffling closer. you quickly greet him before saying the words he’s craving to hear.
“you won’t believe what happened today!”
he has to bite down the grin threatening to bloom on his lips.
you plop yourself on the couch next to him, nuzzling closer to his side.
“remember that girl i told you about in my class?” he can hear the excitement in your voice. (it’s almost enough to make him smile.)
he nods, “the one who cheated on her partner?”
you shake your head, “no, the other one.”
“the one that’s sleeping with your teacher?” his eyes widen when you enthusiastically nod.
“what happened?” he tries, really tries to hide the amusement in his voice. (he fails. horribly.)
“well, i heard,” a mischievous grin spreads across your lips, “that she’s pregnant.”
his jaw drops in amused disbelief. “for real?”
“yeah!” you bite your lip in a poor attempt to mask your excitement. “some of her friends were talking about it in the bathroom.”
“y’know what else?” you shift towards him, “they think it might be the teacher’s.”
his whole body turns in your direction. “no!”
“yes!” you enthusiastically punch the couch cushion.
“so what’s she gonna do?”
you slump against him with a sigh, “i’m not sure.”
“i mean,” you tap your finger against your arm, “both of them could get into some real trouble if it gets out.”
sae nods, wrapping an arm around you. he pulls you flush against his side, his head resting on top of yours.
there’s a beat of silence.
“you’re gonna keep me updated, right?”
you scoff, “you shouldn’t ask the obvious, sae.”
another beat of silence goes by.
sae clears his throat, “anything else happen today that you think i should know?”
you snort. he rolls his eyes when your body starts shaking with laughter. he flicks your forehead. you kick him in return.
you perk up, “there’s this guy in my other class who had an extreme makeover.”
sae’s brows raise in intrigue.
“i think it’s because i rejected him again?” you shake your head, “i’m not too sure.”
“again?” you can hear the curiosity in sae’s voice.
your eyes sparkle, a smile growing on your lips, “i haven’t told you?”
he gives you a look, “i think i’d remember you telling me about a guy confessing to you multiple times.”
“what can i say?” you shrug, “i’m lover material.”
sae shakes his head with a laugh, “you’re lover material for me, and only me.”
you roll your eyes. “yeah, yeah, whatever.”
“besides,” he smirks, “i bet he’s ugly.”
“oh, yeah,” you nod in agreement, teasingly scrunching up your nose, “he’s uglier than you.”
“maybe i should drop you off tomorrow,” he sighs, “then he’ll know what your type of ugly is and he’ll get a better makeover next time.”
you both laugh.
“maybe you should,” you wipe your eyes, “that’ll give everyone something to gossip about.”
“it’s always been my dream to be the center of your university’s gossip.” he smiles, “there’s nothing i’d love more.”
you shrug, a playful smile on your lips, “well then, who am i to stand in the way of your dream?”
safe to say, you sure gave everyone something to gossip about.
(it’s only a shame that it had to do with sae dragging the guy in your class through the mud for ‘trying to steal you away from him,’ though.)
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landograndprix · 8 months
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「Mini me, mini you? ๛ l.n || c.l」
part ii
✧.* summary: in which your relationship is everything but fine, your friend question your decisions and a certain Monégasque makes his way into your life.
✧.* y'all really wanted a part 2 to this, we also contemplated all our options together, 50% Charles endgame, 50% Lando endgame so that's why I decided to label it as a Charles fic as well since I myself am not sure about which endgame it's going to be either– this would make more sense if you read part 1 first 😉
✧.* prev part – next part
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y/nusername
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y/nusername big meetings 💕
tagged: isahernaez, charlottesiine
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norry4 now see, I would enjoy this a lot more if I knew her and lando are doing great 😅
landoscar oh she's hanging out with ex girlfriends..
isahernaez we should do this again! ❤️
charlottesiine we definitely have to meet up again ❤️
y/nusername can't wait! ❤️
charlos16 oh it's my favorite trio!!!!
chilisainz god I miss these three together in the paddocks :(
maxmaxmax the gossiping must be CRAZY
Carlandooo you think they talk shit about Charles and Carlos? 👀
lan4 it doesn't mean anything it doesn't mean anything it doesn't mean anything it doesn't mean anything it doesn't mean anything it doesn't mean anything it do–
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y/nusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, yourbestfrienduser and 109,762 others
y/nusername gloomy day 🌧
view all 343 comments
julieeeexo my favorite kind of days tbh
charles_leclerc think you forgot your umbrella in my car ☂️
y/nusername I figured! Keep it & thanks for the ride!
charles_leclerc no problem 😊
lnfourr ?!?!?!
bananaclerc there's a lot on my bingocard this year but a charles & y/n interaction isn't one of them..
clsixteen bestie got to sit in his ferarri, life is unfair sometimes 😔
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y/nusername exploring cities & crashing towns with the prettiest girl 🍦
view all 317 comments
norrizz bestie are you and lando okay?
yourfriend2 the best day ever ❤️
landonpiastri did you and lando break up
chilisainz that's non of our business..
yourfriend3 you better drop by in Bristol before leave, got a very grumpy kid waiting for your visit
y/nusername will always make time for spiderman 🕸
charles16 can some of you calm down? Stop asking her if she broke up with lando, that's none of our business
landonorris the prettiest ladies 😍
norry4 see, I've panicked over nothing, they seemed to be doing fine 😭
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if your name is crossed out, it means I was unable to tag you. I might have misspelled something so please check your name ☺
Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @zendayabelova @softboystarkey
Mini me taglist: @myloverjk-blog @allywthsr @aundercover @myescapefromthislife @justdreamersdream @atoomaples @celestialams @ihrtdan @sunnytkm23 @yunnie-f1 @mrsmaybanks13 @stevesworld9 @honethatty12 @azxulaa @chilwellpulisic @ivegotparticulartaste @minkyungseokie @raizelchrysanderoctavius @leclercdream @opchelia @ssararuffoni @homeybunchiesofoats
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honeybeefae · 9 months
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7 Minutes In Heaven (Bat Boys x Reader)
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Summary// After a night of drinking and a confession that friends should not say to each other, you find yourself on the receiving end of your three best friend’s wicked desires to make sure you are taken care of.
(Hoooooly hell this was a LOT to write and it took me so long but I am so happy with how it came out. 16 pages, 5K words, and I really hope you guys like this. This is obviously just pure smut but we all know that’s why you’re here. ;) Enjoy!)
WARNINGS: Smut, 18+, Foursome, Double penetration, Spitting
The fire was roaring in the hearth while the smell of bread and wine filled the cabin air. Rhys, Cass, Az, and you were all sitting in a circle by the couch as you joked about old memories, the outside world seemingly far away as you took a relaxing breath and enjoyed the company of your friends.
You had come up here after your father had surprised you with an arranged marriage back in your birthplace within the Court of Nightmares. Despite your job with the inner circle he still felt as if he had control over you and you were lucky that Rhys had been there to swoop you away and hide you here.
It had been three days since then and you had no plans of leaving anytime soon. The four of you were as close as could be and you were thankful they had dropped everything to help you out and be a shoulder to lean on.
Four wine glasses lay empty beside each of you though none of you were drunk by any means, the conversation light and mellow as you reached for the half-empty bottle beside Rhys.
“So, Y/N,” Cassian began, smirking when you rolled your eyes at his prying tone. “Who were you going to be wed to?”
“Really?” Rhys deadpanned. “Do you have to kill the mood?”
“It’s okay. I know he can’t help his gossiping ways.” You say sickly sweet, drinking down the red liquid faster than you should’ve. “It was some friend’s son of Keir’s. A terrible man no doubt looking to climb ranks like the rest of them. And with me being the only daughter of my father, you know he was looking to make alliances to secure his power as well.”
“They’re all like that. It’s pathetic.” Azriel grumbled from his spot on the floor.
“The men are the worst of them all, treating us daughters lesser than.” You snort and lean back on your hands. “It just sucks that us women are caught in the crossfire of your pissing contests.”
“Our pissing contests?” Rhysand echoed, arching his brow as you waved your hand in the air to gesture vaguely.
“Men in general. It’s so much harder for us than it is for you when it comes to scenarios like this. You guys get to go and do whatever you want, fuck whoever you want, etc., while we have to be everything all at once lest we ruin our family image.” Your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head in irritation as you ranted to the group.
“If I were a man I wouldn’t have to put up with being treated as a mere breeding sow or a stepping stool to a higher purpose. I could take what I wanted.” They were all watching you with amusement as you crossed your arms over your chest, glowering. “For example, I bet the three of you never once got lectured on the importance of maintaining your purity for a woman or how to please them properly.”
“Well, no, but-” Cassian tried to interrupt but you raised to sit on your knees and snapped your fingers in exasperation, cutting him off.
“Exactly my point! It’s a sexist, ridiculous outlook on women as a whole. We shouldn’t be made to feel bad about wanting our own pleasure when you lot can take part in yours whenever you please.” You realized too late how you had completely derailed the conversation and glanced at your now empty glass of wine, making a note to keep it that way.
“You certainly have very strong feelings towards this subject.” Rhys pointed out, his violet eyes twinkling in the firelight. “I didn’t realize this was such a sore topic. Shall we join you in your celibacy?”
All three of them laughed and you felt your face heat in embarrassment. It was your own fault for making it such a big deal and you were starting to regret the ammunition you had just given them. You rushed to defend yourself from whatever picture they were painting of you. 
“I’m not celibate, I just-” You tried to get out, your voice cracking as you considered your words.
Three pairs of eyes stare at you as you clear your throat and straighten your spine, finding a small stain on the rug underneath you to focus on. “I mean that in the sense that you don’t have to feel obliged to do that since I’m not. I just think the issue needs to be talked about more.”
“The issue of your sex life?” Azriel quipped, grinning when you threw a pillow at him.
“No! The issue of the scale of men and women.” You retort with a flip of your middle finger. “Can we just change the topic?”
“I just can’t believe you’ve actually had sex with someone. What would your mother think, Y/N?” Cassian faked a dramatic gasp and you resisted the urge to chuck the glass bottle at his head. 
"Listen-” You try to cut in but your pleas fell on deaf ears as all three of your best friends started to gang up on your blushing state.
“You have had sex before right?” Rhys smirked devilishly. “Touching yourself doesn’t count, it takes two people.”
“Or more.” Azriel gave you a wink and you blushed crimson, your mouth opening and closing as you tried to regain control of the situation.
“Yes, yes. I’ve done it before with someone else.” You felt self-conscious even admitting to that and you could tell they wanted more details. Before they could even ask though you held out your hand to silence them. “Why am I in the hot seat? Can we move on to someone else? Or a new topic entirely?”
“Oh no, this is very interesting. I want to know more.” Rhys raised an eyebrow, shooting his brothers an amused glance as you shook your head.
“Well if it’s so interesting how about I ask you how many people you’ve had sex with, hm?” You challenged your High Lord, blinking in surprise when he simply shrugged his shoulders.
“I have no problem telling you how many. What was it you said, we shouldn’t be made to feel bad about seeking our own pleasure?” His voice was dripping with sarcasm as you puckered your lips in silence. “I would say at least thirty.”
“Thirty?!” You were shocked.
“If you think that’s scandalous you really don’t want to hear Azriel’s…or Cassian’s.”
“How do you even? Were you courting all of them?”
Rhysand snorted while Cassian and Azriel grinned, the former laying sideways and propping his head up on his elbow. “You do know you don’t have to be courting someone to fuck them right, princess? Sex isn’t magically unlocked by writing poems and delivering flowers.” Cassian teased.
“I know that.” You snapped, frowning. “I just don’t see why. It doesn’t even feel that good.”
The room immediately fell into silence and your body tensed. All three of your friends were staring at you, mouths open, with shocked expressions. You brought your knees up to your chest, a comfort action, as Azriel cleared his throat and clicked his tongue.
“What doesn’t feel good? Sex itself?” He questioned, watching you shrug. “How many people have you had sex with, Y/N?”
“It doesn’t matter.” You went on the defense immediately, knowing they would laugh. However Rhys held out his pinky for you to hook, his face serious as he promised you that no one would make fun of you.
You mulled over lying or not but you knew they would be able to tell. It wasn’t something you were proud of but you truly never got the appeal of it. A few girls back in the Court of Nightmares were constantly bragging about it but you didn’t get the desire.
“Two.” You whispered, wincing when Cassian almost choked on his drink.
“Two? Did you say two?” He said hoarsely, hitting his chest with an open palm to clear his throat. “How old are you?”
“Why does it matter?” You ran a hand over your face frustratedly. “Why is any of this relevant to our friendship? Yes, I’ve only had sex with two people. It was painful, lasted a couple of minutes both times and just left me feeling frustrated and used. I didn’t like it. Can we move on?”
They watched you and you saw their gazes turn from shocking to pitying. 
“So…no one has made you cum before?” Azriel whispered, voice tight as you closed your eyes and took a steadying breath.
“No, they aren’t supposed to.” You said as if it were obvious. “I was always told sex is for the man, to make a baby. It’s not really something that we enjoy but we just pretend we do.”
“Oh you sweet, summer child,” Rhys cooed. “That’s….that’s just cruel. And not what sex is at all.”
You felt agitated, embarrassed, and frustrated all at the same time. It was like they all knew some secret that you didn’t, that they were teasing you again. The night was not supposed to have taken this turn but you had dug this grave yourself.
“I’m going to bed.” You huffed and began to stand, grunting when Cassian grabbed your wrist and pulled you back down.
“I’m sorry if we made you feel uncomfortable or anything, Y/N. It’s just that is a very…shocking thing to hear.” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly as you glared at him.
“Are you telling me that you all care about the women you sleep with? That you make them cum every single time?” Your voice was tight as they looked at each other and then back to you, nodding. A snort left your lips as you rolled your eyes. “Yeah, okay. I’ll believe that when I see it.”
Another pregnant pause filled the room as you watched them, their eyes darkening while they looked you over. There was a noticeable shift in the air, your mouth suddenly dry as you squirmed on the floor.
“Would you like to see it, darling?”
Your heart dropped into your stomach as Rhys’s words reverberated through you. They all had the same look in their eyes, one of hunger, but you were convinced they were messing with you. 
“Ha ha, very funny.” You laughed without humor, your eyebrows knitting together in anger. “You all are assholes for teasing me, you know that? I’m going to bed.”
This time it was Azriel who stopped you though not with his hands. Two silky, dark tendrils of smoke curled around your arms and held you on the floor. It made your breath hitch and goosebumps rise on your skin as you looked up at him with doe eyes. “Az, this isn’t funny.”
“We aren’t joking, princess.” Cassian purred, one of his hands wandering to your thigh as he made his way beside you. “There are many things we would joke about but your pleasure isn’t one of them…and trust me when I say that we would love to help you out.”
“What-all of you?” You asked softly as your gaze moved across all three of them. “I don’t…I mean you are all very handsome, obviously, but don’t feel obligated to-”
Rhysand sat in front of you and grabbed your chin with his thumb and index finger, the former dragging over your bottom lip as you held back a moan at the contact. Azriel’s shadows were drawing shapes into your soft skin while Cassian’s hand seemed to drift higher and higher, all the attention making your head spin.
Your High Lord knew it too, a smirk working its way to his lips as he bent down until he was a hairsbreath away from your lips.
“This is anything but an obligation to us, darling. This is pure, carnal desire in its rawest form. A primal need.” His voice was smooth as silk, your eyelids fluttering as his lips moved to ghost over your ear. “A desperate urge to take care of you until you’re drowning in pleasure.”
“Look at her,” Azriel growled from your other side, his hazel eyes appearing behind Rhys. He had on a wicked smile, his head slightly tilted as he surveyed you. “She wants it so bad.”
“Do you, princess?” Cassian asked teasingly, his hand stopping at the waistband of your pants. “Do you want us to take care of you?”
“Yes.” You breathed, your sultry voice surprising you as all three of them pulled away and grinned. All of their warmth and comfort disappeared and you almost let out a whine, wanting it back desperately. 
“How about we make this a game?” Rhys asks his two friends, standing tall over you. There was already a noticeable bulge in his pants that your fingers were itching to touch. “Seven minutes in heaven?”
“Person who makes her cum the hardest gets to fuck her?” Cassian finished, licking his lips. “Gods, I need to go first.”
However, before he could grab you, Rhys hoisted you up bridal style into his arms. You giggled as he looked over his shoulder and said, “Go ahead and start the timer. I won’t need all seven.”
The bedroom door swung open and then quickly shut again as you were pressed right against it, his lips on yours before you could make a sound. It felt so wrong and yet so right, your fingers immediately running through his midnight black hair.
“Stars above, you’re so beautiful.” He grunted into your ear as he kissed down your neck, his lips latching onto your pulse point while he shimmied off your pants. “I could smell how badly you want this.”
“Please, Rhys,” You whined, his fingertips ghosting over the wet spot on your panties. “Please touch me.”
He didn’t answer you by words but by actions, as he pushed your underwear aside to rub your clit with his thumb. It made your knees wobble from how good it felt. One of your hands came up to grasp his forearm, your head hitting the door behind you. “Oh my gods, that feels-I feel…”
“So fucking good,” Rhys finished for you. He kissed you hungrily, his own cock straining against its confines. Two more fingers dipped down and circled the entrance of your cunt before he thrust them in sloppily, choking back a moan. “You’re such a good girl for me.”
Your nails dug into his skin at the roughness of his motions, his upper lip curled as drank in every expression on your face. “Fuck me,” You gasped as a pleasure you had only read about overtook your body, those thick fingers curling each time they entered you. “Don’t stop, don’t stop!”
“Never.” He promised. “I will never stop making you feel this good, never stop making you scream around my fingers. You’re mine. Forever.” His words were like ice to a burn as you felt a strong surge of ecstasy boil over. Rhys held you as you exploded around his fingers, working you through the best orgasm of your life with words of praise and soft strokes.
“That’s it, darling, that’s it.” You mewled at his tone as your pussy tried to swallow his fingers deeper. “Such a good girl. You did so well…”
“Rhys that was…I’ve never…” Your words were breathless as you watched him with hooded eyes, your lips slightly parted as he gave you a knowing smile and kissed you. It was loving and warm, like a blanket on a cold winter’s night, and you melted into it.
He threaded his fingers through your hair to deepen it, taking control, and just as you felt him start to rut into your thigh the door behind you shook with a pounding force.
“Don’t need seven minutes my ass! Time’s up, High Lord!” Cassian chuckled, his grin feline as Rhys opened the door with a glowering look. “Oh I’m sorry, did I interrupt?”
“Just remember who just made your eyes roll back, darling.” Rhys purred into your ear before kissing your cheek, purposefully hitting Cass’s shoulder as he made his way back out to the living room. You tried to follow him with your eyes but Cassian was quick to step forward and make you step backward., your thighs still shaking.
“Was it that good, princess? Or were you just pretending for him?” He teased as he strode forward, making you retreat until your knees hit the edge of the bed. You fell back, your smile growing when the general appeared over you. “You don’t have to lie, I promise I won’t tell.”
“It was pretty amazing…” You sighed as he rolled his eyes before sinking to his knees at the end of the bed. He threw your legs over his shoulders before you could process what was happening and by the time you tried to squirm away, he had you pinned.
“Nuh-uh, you’re not going anywhere.” He growled as he gazed at your swollen cunt, your lips puffy and glistening. “You have such a pretty pussy, princess. Is it sensitive?”
Before you could answer he blew a cool breeze across your sex, making you jump. Cassian smirked and used both of his hands to spread you wide open. He leaned forward and spat on your clit, watching it mingle with your wetness as he inserted one finger. “Gods you’re making it so hard to be gentle.”
“Then don’t,” You urged, your pupils blown wide in desire. “Treat me how I deserve to be treated.”
Cassian let your words sink in before he dove headfirst into your pussy, three fingers roughly fucking into your hole as he scraped the hood of your clit with his teeth. It was sensory overload and you bucked forward with a small shout, your hands immediately fisting into his hair as he ate you out like a starved animal.
Every nerve in your body had already been shot but this was mind-numbing pleasure. It had you crying out for more, fucking his face as his stubble rubbed against your thighs. He was no better as he sucked and fucked your cunt until he could feel you start to tighten around him.
You hated how fast you were cumming but you also didn’t know if you could hold it any longer, your cries to slow down falling on deaf ears. Cassian swirled his tongue up and down, side to side, making sure to not waste a drop of your excitement. He knew how to eat someone out.
“Cass, Cass-” You tried to warn him, shifting your hips, only for him to tighten his hold on you. “Cass I can’t. I can’t hold it.”
“Cum all over my face, princess,” Cassian grunted as he watched your face contort in pleasure, your body already falling over the edge of the abyss. “Soak my beard, fuck my face, use me to get off. It’s all for you.”
Whereas Rhys had been sweet, Cassian was a little bit of both. It made you yearn for more of his degrading praise and you quickly found yourself following his orders, your hips rolling over his face as you came loudly.
The door started banging again but you didn’t care and neither did he. In fact, Cassian was so lost in what he was doing he almost lashed out when Azriel appeared behind him. You whined when he was pulled back but quickly settled when you felt cool hands running over your body.
No, not hands. Shadows.
Your eyes widened when Azriel’s hazel gaze appeared inches from your face. He had a dark look and an even darker smirk as his shadows lazily rubbed along your skin, his hands gently pulling off your top.
“Did my brothers fully satisfy you or are you still wanting more, mouse?” Azriel cooed into the empty room, tossing the last of your clothing aside so that you were now bare before him. “Answer me.”
“I want more.” You gulped, drinking precious air as the Shadowsinger tilted his head in wonder. “Please.”
“Who taught you those manners, pet?” He raised a curious brow while both of his hands cupped your sensitive tits, thumbs barely grazing over your nipples. It was enough to make you squirm though which he was counting on. “I’ll be happy to give you more but I want you to beg.”
“Beg?”
“Beg.”
You faltered at first, not sure what it was he wanted to hear, but when he went to pull away from your breasts you ran with it. “No, no, please keep touching me!” You whined, groaning when one of his tendrils of smoke circled your clit. “Oh, Gods, that feels so good.”
“I’ll stop if you don’t fucking beg for it, Y/N. I want to hear you tell me how badly you want my fingers. How greedy you are for already cumming twice but still needing more, like the dirty slut you are.” He sneered, his nostrils flaring as he resisted the urge to just fuck you then and there. 
“I am greedy! I want more, I want it so fucking bad, Az!” You cried, desperate for his touch to grow stronger. He was keeping you on the edge. “I am a, fuck, I’m a dirty slut. I want you so bad, so so bad, please.”
“You’re a quick learner.” He smiled before bending down and capturing one of your nipples in his mouth at the same time his shadows started stroking your slit. Your mouth opened wide in a silent cry of euphoria as he bit and nibbled his way over to your other boob, the pressure on your clit increasing with each second.
“I always knew you were dirty, mouse,” Azriel murmured as he gave a harsh suck, enjoying the way you arched into it. “Always knew this how you wanted to be fucked. Just look at this greedy little cunt, hm? Look at how it’s swallowing my fingers.”
You couldn’t see it but you could feel it as he thrust two fingers inside of you, the walls sensitive as he stroked them and found that special spot with ease. His fingers plus his mouth on your breasts was heaven as your head thrashed back and forth, your body desperate to just be fucked.
But he wasn’t going to give that to you. At least not yet. No, Azriel was focused on making you cum one more time. The tip of his tongue flicked over your hardened nub as his shadows came back to rub your clit, all of the stimulations becoming too much, too fast.
“Azriel, fuck!” You squealed as you came for the third time that night. This time you felt yourself ascend from your body, watching yourself from below as he worked you through it but didn’t slow down. “Ohhhhh fuck…”
“Fuck you’re so tight.” He growled as he removed his fingers, smirking when your eyes had that glazed look to them. You whimper as he picks you up gently, shushing you, then turning to see Rhys and Cassian waiting in the doorway. “I think she’s done for the night.”
“No…” You mumble softly, needily. “I want you…all of you. Please.”
There was a beat of silence as they considered your state and each other before you were brought back to the bed and spread out for their viewing pleasure. You felt like you were cock drunk at this point, especially as Rhys pulled his cock out right in front of your face.
You wasted no time in bringing him into your mouth, your saliva dripping out the sides of your mouth as you worked his cock up and down. Rhys threw his head back and growled, the room seeming to shake before he grabbed a fistful of your hair to help guide you.
“If your mouth is this good I can’t wait for your cunt.” He laughed airly before moaning once more, watching as Azriel stood to your other side with his cock standing proudly. 
The bed dipped behind you and before you could blink you felt Cassian rub his cock up and down your folds, words of praise or prayer spilling from his lips as he sunk in inch by inch. It felt amazing and you pulled off Rhys’s dick long enough to moan loudly.
“Shit, Cassian,” You groaned. “You’re so big.”
“You’re just tight as fuck, princess. Gods, I don’t think I’m going to fit.” He cursed, his fingers squeezing your hips as you whipped your head to look back at him.
“Make it fit.” You said lowly, your eyes narrowed in challenge which had him grinning. He gave you a shrug of his shoulders before pulling out and slamming back in, rocking your forward and straight into Azriel’s cock. He took advantage of the situation and forced you to swallow him whole, his biceps straining as you gagged and cried around his dick. 
“Look at you, look at the little whore you’re being for us,” Azriel said as you started to go back and forth between him and Rhys. Cassian was fucking you like a beast, his balls hitting your clit with every thrust. It was intoxicating in every sense of the word and you never wanted it to stop. “You like being treated like this, don’t you? Like our own personal fuck toy?”
“You’re doing such a good job, darling.” Rhys’s voice soothed, your heart beating in your ears as you gazed at him. “Taking Cass so well. He’s close, I can tell.”
“I’m gonna fucking fill you up.” The Illyrian General growled as he pistoned in and out. You could feel him in your stomach as you closed your eyes and let yourself feel. “Take it, Y/N, fucking take it.” He ordered as he finally stilled in you, hot ropes of cum coating your insides as you hung your head in rapture. 
He seemed to cum forever and when he finally pulled out, you watched his cum drip down onto the bedsheets from just how much it was. Cassian smirked and collected the leaking seed onto his fingers, holding it out for you to take before Rhys snatched it and sucked it off himself.
Rhys’s eyes darkened at the taste of both of you and he quickly yanked you to him, lying back on the bed and positioning you on top. He helped guide you onto him and when you started sinking down, both of your groaned. The rhythm was soft and slow as you got used to his size, your hands coming to palm at your breasts until you felt a nudge against your asshole.
“Shhhh, relax,” Azriel’s voice shushed as he spat on his cock, lubing it up even more before he started to press into your ass. “Relax for me, mouse. I want you to take us both together. Can you do that?”
You nodded, a stupid smile on your face as you leaned back into him for support at the intrusion. It felt weird but the longer you waited, the more pleasurable it got. Soon you were rocking on to both of them in need, your sex hungry for more as they started fucking you at the same time.
It was a fullness you had never felt before but you don’t know how you could ever go on without it. They worked beautifully with each other, their moans mixing with yours as Azriel replaced your hands with his own. Rhysand watched from below, his violet eyes burning with desire as he pulled you down for a heated kiss.
They were fighting over you and it was driving you crazy. And just as Azriel went to pull you back to him, Cassian appeared at your side with his cock in his hand. It was already hard and leaking and you wasted no time in shoving him inside your mouth.  
“That’s it, that’s it,” Rhys praised. “Ride us, darling. Be a good, needy girl for us.”
“Our good, naughty little whore.” Cassian purred, choking when you took him down to the base. 
“Or just our whore.” Azriel growled as he smacked your ass, watching the recoil. “A whore we can use and abuse whenever we want.”
Their words filled your veins until you felt as if you were about to burst. You could feel a fourth orgasm coming, could feel the now painful clenching of your cunt, but there was nothing you could do to stop it. You had enough mind to pull away from Cassian’s cock before you let out a blood-curdling scream, your body collapsing on Rhys’s chest as you squirted all over them.
All at once, together, they also found their releases and followed you with reckless abandon. The sheets were soaked, as were the rest of you, as Azriel came in your ass, Rhys came in your cunt, and Cassian came over your back. You felt like you were leaking cum from every opening you had and you loved it.
You struggled to catch your breath as they all fell into bed beside you and Rhys, the smell of sex and cum permeating the room. Rhys’s soft hand stroked up and down your back lovingly while Cass and Az whispered praises. It was slow coming back down to Earth, to the three men who you had just slept with, and you realized that you never wanted to leave the room. Never wanted to leave them.
After a few minutes, you hear rustling before Azriel stands up and asks if anyone wants to shower, his eyebrows lifting in surprise when you sat up sleepily and said, “Second round in the shower?”
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sagesolsticewrites · 2 months
Note
Hi! I’d like to request a John “Bucky” Egan fic where he tries several times to flirt with the reader, but the reader is super oblivious about it and just thinks he’s being nice. It becomes something everyone on base talks about and gets invested in. Maybe other people set up a scheme to get them together or make the reader realize how he feels. Idk, just something funny and cute like that ig 😁
Thank you so much for requesting, Nonnie, I’ve been having so much fun with these Masters of the Air requests! I loved getting to write for our best boy Bucky 🥰 Shoutout to @blurredcolour’s Trust fic (an absolute masterpiece, check it out y’all!) for helping with the writers block on this one 😅 (Reminder that requests are open! Feel free to check out some of my favorite prompt lists in my pinned post 😊)
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the Apple TV+ series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.
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Oblivious
“There’s my favorite nurse!”
You rolled your eyes at the phrase that announced John “Bucky” Egan’s every visit to sickbay.
“Hello, Major,” you said, turning to greet him with a mock-exasperated smile.
Bucky clutched a hand to his heart as if wounded, a hurt expression on his face. “How many times do I gotta tell you to call me Bucky, sweetheart?”
“At least a few more times, Major,” you reply, unable to hide a smile at the usual volley of friendly banter.
Major John Egan had been unusually friendly to you since the first moment he’d sauntered in to introduce himself to the medical staff as Air Exec. Your colleagues had blushed afterward and playfully insisted that he had paid you more attention than the others, but you just laughed and shook your head, insisting that he was just being nice.
This visit was simply another instance of Bucky being friendly to you; well, that and Harry Crosby’s airsickness had gotten the better of him again and he was checking up on the navigator.
You stepped aside as Bucky approached Harry’s cot, ready to update him on the goings-on since the last mission had returned.
He threw you a kind smile before perching on the stool next to Harry.
“How’s my girl treatin’ you, Crosby?”
Harry happily told him how the base had gotten a new shipment of airsickness pills and you had slipped him a spare box for his own personal use, and Bucky’s smile grew wider and wider.
You were glad to see how happy he was at the news that his friend was feeling better, and you quietly excused yourself to tend to the other patients.
Bucky sighed as you walked away.
“She still hasn’t picked up on it, huh?”
“No, Croz, she hasn’t.” sighed Bucky, “She thinks I’m just bein’… nice or friendly or something. Which I am!” He added hurriedly, “But I just…I like her so much. I wish she’d notice.”
“She will, buddy,” Harry replied, with a comforting pat on his friend’s hand, “She will.”
Bucky headed out after a few more minutes of conversation, giving you a wink and a smile as he walked past your station.
“Bucky visited again, huh?” Rebecca, one of your fellow nurses, sidled up next to you with a teasing grin.
“Yes, Major Egan came by to visit Lieutenant Crosby,” you replied, putting emphasis on their ranks.
“You’re sure that’s all he was here for? Somehow he never shows up here without an excuse to see you…”
“He’s just being nice, Becca,” you insisted, “You know how these soldier boys are.”
“But he’s always—”
“Becca,” you cut her off as gently as you can, “I really don’t wanna talk about this anymore.”
“Alright, alright,” she held her hands up in surrender, “Bucky is an off-limits topic, gotcha.”
The conversation turned to the current hot gossip, and you idly chimed in when it seemed appropriate, losing yourself in your routine tasks.
Rebecca broke off to check on Harry again, narrowing her eyes as she noticed Harry watching you.
“Something Nurse L/N can help you with, Crosby?”
He jumped, gaze darting to Rebecca as she approached.
“No ma’am, I just…”
He scrambled to think of some excuse, but all he could come up with was: “I’m trying to think of some way to get Y/N to notice Bucky!”
Rebecca blinked in surprise, then plopped down onto the stool next to his bed, leaning in conspiratorially.
“Oh thank goodness it’s not just me! He’s been at it for months but the poor girl’s just so oblivious…”
“I keep telling him to just talk to her like a normal person, but he insists on dancing around it!” Harry instantly agreed, glad to have someone besides Jean to talk to about this. “He’s been so distracted lately. If he doesn’t do something soon, I’m worried it might start to affect his flying.”
Rebecca pressed her lips into a thin line, twisting a strand of hair worriedly.
After a few moments of quiet, she spoke up again, green eyes sparkling with mischief.
“I’ve got an idea.”
———
“Hey Bucky,” Harry said at breakfast the next morning, “I’m gonna pop down to the infirmary to visit Winks, wanna come with?”
Bucky quickly agreed— he’d been meaning to check on Winks yesterday as well as Croz, but got caught up in… well, you.
As they entered, Bucky made a beeline for Winks while Harry caught Rebecca’s eye and gave a subtle nod, which she returned, signaling her part of the plan was complete.
She had removed the step stool you always used from one of the supply closets, now hidden under one of the cots nearby. When you weren’t able to reach something on one of the higher shelves, well…
Good thing Bucky was so tall.
“Y/N, would you mind grabbing some more bandages for me? My station’s running low.”
“Sure thing, Becca!” You called, stepping away from your current station to check the supply closet.
“Becca…” your confused voice called from the closet, “Do you know where the stepstool went?”
“It’s not there?” She called back, sounding equally confused. “Let’s see, um…”
She scanned the room, putting on a good show of looking for someone who could help.
“Oh, Bucky! Would you mind helping Nurse L/N grab something from the supply closet for me?”
“No problem, Becca,” came his reply, accompanied with his trademark winning smile as he nodded to Winks and made his way over to the supply closet.
It was much smaller than he’d anticipated, and barely half a foot was all that separated you as he asked, “Alright, what do ya need, sweethea—”
The pet name was cut off by the sound of the supply closet door closing.
And locking.
You lunged for the handle as Bucky reached up to turn on the single lightbulb, both of you calling out in confusion.
“Becca! What?”
“C’mon, guys, this isn’t funny!”
Harry’s voice came through the door, clear and determined.
“Just tell her how you feel, Bucky! Your tactic clearly isn’t working!”
“I— what?” You turned to Bucky, hoping he knew what in the world they were talking about.
Bucky hesitated, but seeing as it seemed he had no choice…
“Well this isn’t… exactly how I wanted to do it, but…” He took a deep breath, twisting his fingers together in an uncharacteristic display of anxiety, “I really like you, doll. I’ve liked you since I first laid eyes on you. And I’ve tried every way I know how to tell you, but nothin’ worked, so…” He gestured around at the supply closet, “I guess it came to this? Which wasn’t my idea, by the way. Just for the record. I would never…”
His voice faltered, and you realized just how close you were to him. You didn’t remember moving forward. You were just suddenly there, so close the two of you were almost breathing each other’s air.
“You… you like me?”
Bucky couldn’t help but laugh at that.
“Doll, you think I call every pretty girl workin’ here my favorite nurse?”
You flushed at the compliment.
“I thought you were just being nice, I didn’t…”
“I mean, I was bein’ nice,” He said with a shrug, grinning, “Just not quite in the way you were thinking.”
Bucky’s eyes flicked down to your mouth, and being this close to you, he couldn’t hide the bob of his throat as he swallowed nervously.
“I’d, uh. I’d really like to kiss you right now, if that’s alright with you, sweetheart.”
You nodded slowly, “I think I’d really like that, Major Egan.”
“It’s Bucky, sweetheart,” he murmured softly as he leaned in, capturing your lips.
You may or may not have spent more than a few lonely nights in your bunk imagining what it would be like to kiss Major John Egan.
Your imaginings were nothing compared to reality.
This was magic unlike anything you could have dreamed.
Your arms wound around his neck as his wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against him. You toyed with the dark curls at the nape of his neck as he slanted his mouth against yours, deepening the kiss. Needing to be closer, you tried to step towards him, but merely succeeded in pressing him back against the shelves.
Ordinarily you would apologize, but something like a thrill ran up your spine when you felt him grin into the kiss as his back hit the shelves, knocking rolls of bandages and boxes of gauze onto the floor.
His right hand moved to cup your cheek, keeping your lips connected as his other hand splayed across your back, pulling you impossibly closer as you arched into him.
You could still feel him grinning as he murmured against your lips, “Knew you were feisty under that good girl act.”
“Bucky,” you whined softly as he pulled away from you, chest heaving.
“Oh, now she uses my name,” he teased breathlessly, bumping his nose playfully against yours.
The two of you flinched as sunlight spilled into the dim closet, a harsh change from the dingy yellow lightbulb you had become accustomed to.
Harry and Rebecca stood in the doorway, wearing twin smug grins.
“Looks like our work here is done,” Becca said, shooting you a wink as she bid farewell to Harry with a two-fingered salute, “Pleasure working with you, Lieutenant Crosby.”
“Same to you, Nurse Carter,” Harry replied, and he turned back to the two of you, a genuine smile on his face.
“About time, Bucky.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky waved off his friend’s I told you so, “You gonna congratulate me or what?”
“Congratulations,” came Harry’s mock-put-out reply, accompanied by a genuinely congratulatory clap on his arm. “You got a good one. And it only took months of unsuccessful flirting—”
“Hey, I got her in the end, didn’t I?” He squeezed you closer, grinning down at you.
Your lipstick was all over his mouth, and you’re sure the Victory Red on your own lips was in no better shape.
You couldn’t bring yourself to care, however, as he pulled you in for a tender kiss.
Which you broke for a moment to point out, “He isn’t wrong, you know, it was months of unsuccessful—”
Your teasing was promptly cut off with a “shush” mumbled against your lips as Bucky silenced you with a kiss.
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elinoracia · 11 months
Text
⁑ Someone else flirts with you // Hogwarts legacy characters reactions x reader ⁑
~ Hogwarts Legacy headcanons ~
Warnings: Jealousy, fluff, f!reader, use of Y/N, not proofread, swearing (censored) Pairings: Sebastian x reader, Ominis x reader, Garreth x reader, Amit x reader, Poppy x reader, Natty x reader, Imelda x reader, Leander x reader.
Feel free to request anything!
→ [All characters are aged up to 18 y.o. or more (7th year)] ←
-------------------------------
Context: Following the events that took place during the 5th year, you became more popular without really wanting it. A few people have started to take a closer interest in you. But you still only have eyes for one person since you arrived. However, a boy has started flirting with you and talking to you more and more often. His name is Spencer Rooks. Spencer is the captain of the Hufflepuff quidditch team, also in 7th year. His soft blue eyes, freckles and blond messy hair could make anyone feel flustered around him. But he only has his eyes on you and the person you like took notice of that. Today, Spencer passed you a note to meet him after class. You chose to accept his offer and listen what he had to say to you. Someone seems to not be too pleased by that... (pre-relashionship)
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THEIR REACTION:
Sebastian:
Oh he's pissed. You're his! Well...not yet but you are his! He tolerated Spencer's flirting for way too long. He has to intervene.
"Spencer, leave her alone. Can't you see Y/N is not interested?"
All means are good if it makes him leave you alone. But if Spencer insists too much to talk to you, Sebastian will definitely raise his wand at him. He's not scared to be in detention again.
"Let's leave Y/N. He's not worth you time at all." He takes your hand and leads you somewhere else.
"What a prick! Touching you like that and flirting with you. Trust me, he's not good enough for you."
You ask him if he's jealous and you see him frown.
"I am not jealous, I would just prefer if he didn't exist near you! I-I mean...I know you can take care of yourself but- I just don't like others around you that can't respect you."
He'll cross his arms and will stare into your eyes.
"Next time, tell him you're mine. Tell him you're my girlfriend. And if he tries anything, I won't need my wand to hurt him. Besides, I bet he only likes you because you're Hogwarts hero or something like that...NO! I'm not jealous! I just think you deserve better!"
He will make sure that everyone knows you're his, even if you're not yet in a relationship with him.
He WILL be more affectionate and touchy in public.
He's very possessive and will remind you that you both were best friends before you saved Hogwarts and the wizzarding world in general.
"I liked and still like you for you, don't fall for guys like Spencer who only notice you for what you did. He's an opportunist! And you deserve someone who can see how wonderful you are."
Ominis:
Now he is more discreet about his feelings for you and how he handles jealousy. But when Spencer asked you to meet him after class, Ominis couldn't let that happen. He realises he was too slow to be the first to ask you out and he had to do something...quickly.
"Y/N, is that true that you planned to meet Spencer after class? Well...I advice you to reconsider. He does not seem like a very proper gentleman."
You ask him if he's jealous. You see his cheeks redden.
"Jealous? Why should I be jealous Y/N? You obviously are too good for him. And he does not seem like the type of individual you would be into...isn't he?"
He is worried you are into another boy but he tries to keep his composure.
"I heard a few people gossiping about him. Apparently, he has a new girlfriend every month. You deserve to feel special Y/N."
This might be the first time he pays attention to meaningless gossips. But he just has to convince you not to give Spencer a chance.
"Besides, I might need your help after class to prepare myself for our next potion exam. My concoctions are still utter rubbish and you seem to be the only one who actually make me improve my skills."
Any reason is a good reason if it makes you stay away from the Hufflepuff.
He will sit next to you in every class to make everyone understand you are with him, even if you're not his girlfriend yet...
He will frown everytime he hears you talking to another guy. And if Spencer dares to speak to you, he will drag you away and find an excuse to justify it.
"I hope he was not bothering you. I can make the Headmater expel him if he tries anything inappropriate. Just tell me if anything happens."
He didn't mind boys talking to you but when Spencer got a little to close to you for his liking, he became a bit more protective of you. He doesn't want to let that happen again.
Garreth:
He is not usually the jealous type because he knows you're not interested by the other boys/girls who are flirting with you on a daily basis. But Spencer seemed to have your attention for some reason... And when Garreth is jealous, he is not very classy about it.
"What is going on with Spencer and you? I heard you two whispering during class. Since when the both of you are that close?"
You explain to him you planned to meet up with Spencer after class because he had something to tell you. You hear the red-haired boy scoff.
"I bet he'll confess to you...that idiot. Hum...please tell me you don't reciprocate his feelings?"
He'll try to invite you somewhere else so you don't join Spencer after class. He thinks he is being sneaky about it.
"Please I can't find those ingredients without you, it's very urgent matters! Screw Spencer! Besides, you'd rather spend time with me than him...right?"
You're making the poor boy anxious. He is scared you might find Spencer better than him.
"I can also play quidditch you know? And I bet Spencer is not a talented potionist like I am! I'm just saying..."
You ask him if he's maybe...jealous? He left you no time to finish your last word that he quickly retorts.
"Me? Jealous? Please Y/N, you can't be serious. Why would I be jealous? We're...friends... and he is just some guy. I simply don't want you to shift your attention on him and forget about me, alright?"
You try to reassure him with some light-hearted teasing that he was your favorite flirt and that you couldn't possibly forget about him, even if you tried.
"Well...now I know. Could you maybe repeat the part where you said you could never forget me?"
Amit:
He is really not the jealous type because he understands why and how popular you became. But when he is jealous, he does not dare to talk about it to not seem possessive or selfish. But the way Spencer acts around you doesn't sit right with him...
"Y/N? I hope you don't mind if I bring up a rather...private subject. It's about you and Spencer. I noticed you two during class... Are you perhaps- please stop me if you do not feel comfortable sharing- b-but are you two...together?"
You ask him if he's just curious or maybe... jealous? You see him stiffen at your question.
"J-Jealous? I'm really not! I swear! I just think he might not be the right fit for you... You deserve someone who sees you for who you really are; the shiniest star in the sky. Nothing less..."
You reassure him by certifying that you were not in a relationship with Spencer. You then explain he just asked you to meet you up after class to tell you something. You see Amit slightly frown.
"I...I don't think you should meet with him."
He then instantly apologizes. His facial expression is a mix between confusion and fear. He's torn between telling you not to go or let you do what you want...
Out of the blue, he gently grabs your hand.
"What if I said I also... wanted to see you? Who would you choose?"
You can't help but let out a small chuckle. Of course you would choose Amit over him...over anyone actually. But he is so cute when he is jealous. But you finally give in to his request.
"R-really? You'd rather be with me? Then let's go to Honeydukes after class! I could also let you try the new lense of my telescope!"
Seeing him compete for you attention definitely made you feel really hot... He is so adorable.
Poppy:
She is way too obvious when she is jealous. She just can't hide it. This Spencer boy is seriously getting on her nerves...Why can't he just leave you alone? She's the only one who has the right to be glued to Y/N!
"Hum...Y/N...Are you and Spencer a thing? Because he seems really interested and you don't seem to mind it. I-I'm just curious, that's all! You know you can tell me anything."
She looks nervous and you can see it. She is twisting a strand of her hair between her fingers.
You tell her that Spencer actually asked you to meet him after class. Seeing the look on Poppy's face, you might have actually thought she saw a ghost. She was petrified.
"M-Meet him after class? Does he like you? Do you think he'll confess? Oh Merlin... Do you like this guy?"
She bombards you with questions. You're trying your best to reassure her but she doesn't seem to focus on what you're saying. You then take her hands into yours to calm her down.
"I-I'm sorry. But, as your friend... of course... I am just worried this guy is just not any good for you at all. He doesn't seem like the type to treat you right or anything. And you're worth so much better!"
"And who do I deserve then Poppy?" You asked with a playful giggle. You like to see her all flustered. It was so cute.
"W-Well...maybe someone who like you before all the stuff that happened during 5th year...A-Anyway! It's not about that, we are talking about Spencer here!"
She pouts at your light teasing. She is so terribly obvious about how she feels.
You have to reassure her and tell her that you don't feel anything for the Hufflepuff boy. She lets out a big sigh of relief.
"Good...So...does that mean you're free after class? Wanna do something with me?"
Natty:
Now Natty is very mature and can handle her jealousy very well...that's what she thought until Spencer grew a little too close to you. She usually doesn't mind your multiple admirers but this time it felt different. She has to do something...
"Y/N, I was wondering... Spencer seems quite persistent. Maybe you need help to tell him off?"
You explain to Natty he actually became a good friend and that he wanted to talk to you after class. She keeps a neutral face, not wanting her emotions to get the best of her.
"That is good to hear. I wonder what he has to say to you."
Natty knew exactly what Spencer wanted to talk to you about. But she felt selfish... She was biting her tongue to not say anything more.
"I hope he is not in love with you Y/N. I heard he was quite a flirtatious guys and that he treated his ex-girlfriends very poorly... Yes those are gossips but sometimes they are right! Well...maybe he is just pretending to be nice to you for now, you know how boys are."
She would let you meet Spencer after school but she would overthink about what your response to his confession would be.
"So? What did he say? Tell me everything!" She was trying to keep a smile on her face but she was really really anxious.
As you explained to her, you see her gently relaxing her shoulders. You don't share the same feelings as Spencer, to her delight.
"That's good. He was not right for you anyway." You then dare to ask her why she was so happy you didn't reciprocated his feelings. She was taken aback.
"P-please don't think I was jealous. I just know you well enough to assume he was not your type at all. You deserve someone who will treat you like a princess."
She has never been more relieved you rejected someone. She will keep a close eye on you the next time someone talks to you. She can't let that happen again.
Imelda:
When she is jealous, she usually just bullies you. She hates to see you with other people no matter who they are. So, you can be certain that she cannot stand Spencer being all flirty and chatty with you.
"He just can't leave you alone, can he? Always trying to get your attention. It's so pathetic. Don't give him the time of the day, he's a twat."
You tell her that Spencer asked you to meet him after class. You see her almost explode of rage in front of your very eyes.
"What the f*ck? Who does he think he is? I mean, please let him embarrass himself, I know he doesn't stand a chance...right? Don't tell me you like him? Oh good...not that I care or anything, you do you."
You ask her if she's jealous. She lets out the meanest laugh you've ever heard. Ouch...
"Me? Jealous of him? I can prove it to you that I am, in fact, better than him. I'm also a MUCH better quidditch player. Just saying... Don't look at me like that! I'm not jealous! Just stop hanging out with him, that's all!"
She might sound agressive but she really just needs to be reassured.
"And you promised me to be there at every one of my quidditch practices. And if he doesn't like it, I'm not afraid to punch him in the throat and break his precious broom."
You notice how agitated she is by the fact that Spencer might like you. You say nothing to preserve peace but...how cute it was that she wanted to fight someone for you.
"Forget about him. You deserve a much better contenders for your love. You also deserves someone that is as good as me on a broom. Spencer is way too slow. Why are you smiling at me like that? What did I say?"
She'll make sure you only look at her during practice and during other classes. She'll make sure to remind you that she is the best person to hang out with you.
Leander:
Now he will go about it the hard way to keep people who are interested in you away. He usually straight up lies and tells everyone you are actually his girlfriend so nobody will flirt with you. But Spencer just directly asked you...not fair. He has to do something about it... and now.
"What? He asked you to meet him after class? Well...just don't go? Or tell him you have a boyfriend? Oh come on, it's just a little white lie."
He tries to convince you not to go. But you still want to hear what Spencer has to say.
"Okay but only if I go with you. I can't leave you alone with that creep. Do we have a deal?"
When you wait for Spencer after class, Leander was waiting with you. Leander just couldn't hold back the urge to mark his territory and show that you were his...not officially but in his mind your were his.
"So, please tell us what you wanted to say. Don't be shy."
Leander is touching VERY inappropriately while Spencer tries to speak. He runs his hands down your back, around your shoulders and…on your hips.
You want to stop it but you can't. You...like it. It makes you feel all nervous and you feel your cheeks redden.
At the end, the poor Spencer just gave up and excused himself from the conversation.
"I think he got the message. You're not interested by him and you'll never be. I was helpful, see? "
You scold him gently, telling him how innapropriate that was. He just smirks and chuckles at you. He's so childish...
"Oh don't pretend you didn't like it Y/N. Maybe I should do it more often, that seems to keep the others away."
You stroked his ego unintentionally.
But...what if...nobody stopped you from going?
Spencer:
He waits for you after class. He looks so nonchalent, you almost refuse to think he might confess to you.
"You came! What a relief. I just wanted to tell you that...I know that we've not been friends for long but...hum...I like you. I almost lost my last quidditch match because you were the only thing on my mind."
You were just speechless. Your face was burning up and your cheeks were red. He took notice of that.
"Sorry, I just blurted it out but I'm really serious. I like you Y/N. And if you just let me one chance to prove that I'm worthy of your affection, you won't regret it! Does it sound too corny? I just really like you sorry, I'm letting my heart speak for me right now."
The Hufflepuff's face was also red. He looks so sincere. His blue eyes staring right into yours.
"Do you need time to think about it? I can give you some space. I just... I would give you the world if you ask me to. You're just...so wonderful. But I'll give you the time you want to think about it! Or maybe we could go on a date? Just to make sure I'm your type."
He lets out tiny nervous chuckles as he speaks. He is a blushing mess and he is trying his hardest to speak clearly and not be overwhelmed by his emtions.
Will you give him a chance?
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anastasiabowe · 6 days
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𝘾𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙗 𝙃𝙪𝙨𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝘾𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙤 — what it's like having a husband who's a celebrity!
Note: Quick food for your pretty little thoughts 😍💕 (NSFW UNDER CUT!)
Content Warnings: rough kissing, p in v, photography of intimate times, oral (m receiving), switch (Choso),nipple play, desc of male parts. MDNI.
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𝙎𝙁𝙒
𝘾𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙗 𝙃𝙪𝙨𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝘾𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙤 who not only was famous in general, he was quite popular with the ladies. Everywhere he went there would always be some underage girls trailing behind us, never realizing that they could never stand a chance with him. He already found his soulmate, and no matter how many beautiful girls he comes across will change that.
𝘾𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙗 𝙃𝙪𝙨𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝘾𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙤 who has to silence his phone at night to not disrupt your early slumber, or has to take multiple social media breaks because of all the overwhelming messages he gets every day. He usually has to make new accounts that are private for only him and his family/friends to follow so he can posts photos of you both for distant relatives to see.
𝘾𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙗 𝙃𝙪𝙨𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝘾𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙤 who has to sadly keep you a secret. Many times paparazzi have seen you two together, but never once could they recognize you, but the headlines were glaring with fake gossip about his personal life. "CHOSO KAMO'S SECRET LOVER?!" "DID CHOSO KAMO LIE IN HIS RECENT INTERVIEW?!" "WHO IS THE MYSTERIOUS WOMAN ALONGSIDE CHOSO KAMO?!" he could laugh at how ridiculous the media is, always focused on what other people are doing and never worrying about real issues like homelessness or the rising numbers of people who can't afford basic groceries.
𝘾𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙗 𝙃𝙪𝙨𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝘾𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙤 who although is always at some sort of interview/event always makes sure you are well taken care of. He always calls you, always texts first, and makes sure to make it up to you in any way he can. He knows you don't want to be in the limelight, but he can admit that he feels almost too selfish to be your husband. He wants to showcase you from the ends to the earth. Kiss you publicly, flip off any girl whose dreams were crushed, he wanted to show the wedding ring with your name engraved in it.
𝘾𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙗 𝙃𝙪𝙨𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝘾𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙤 who always uses you to help him keep succeeding, that being having you help him memorize lines, because all he wants to do is hear your voice instead of the actress he has to fall in love with for the film, or have you help him get ready for a talkshow, and even sometimes a simple kiss on the lips and a quick pep talk, "Don't be so nervous, I don't want to see any wrinkles until your 45! So take a deep breath, and treat it like I'm right by your side, cause I am, just from afar!" making him laugh and loosen up a bit before any nerve-wracking thing he must do.
𝘾𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙗 𝙃𝙪𝙨𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝘾𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙤 who pleaded and begged for you to come with him to an award show. Promising you any dress, any heels, any wish. He wanted this to be the moment he shines his golden wedding ring which went beautifully with your diamond one. He wanted to wrap his hand tightly on your hip, showing the cameras what's his. He wanted to go up on that stage and thank you, and only you for helping him work his way up to this. He wanted to introduce you to all his celebrity friends who they too didn't know you existed. To be honest, it wasn't a want anymore, it wasn't a choice for you anymore. You were going with him, and if you don't, he will simply die.
𝙉𝙎𝙁𝙒
𝘾𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙗 𝙃𝙪𝙨𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝘾𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙤 who doesn't waste a second pulling you flush against him after dodging and weaving to avoid paparazzi or fans. He holds you so close, kissing your lips to the point of pain. You moan into his mouth, feeling his growing boner harden against your thigh. "Mmm, fuck, finally get to show my fucking wife how much I love her." He growled bringing his hands up with your shirt to pull it over your head. He then unclasped your bra, and his mouth watered seeing your tits. He couldn't wait to have you in every position he could think of, he might even put you into the same one a few times, just so he can see you so desperate for him.
𝘾𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙗 𝙃𝙪𝙨𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝘾𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙤 who is a switch when it comes to sex. He will very much pound, circle, and suck you into the very shell of yourself, but he also wouldn't mind you using him as well. He could have you at his mercy one night, on your hands and knees begging like a starved puppy, or, he could be pleading for you to touch him after an hour of being tied up and you playing with yourself in front of him.
𝘾𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙗 𝙃𝙪𝙨𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝘾𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙤 who surprisingly has a nipple kink. He goes absolutely psycho when you play with his nipples. He could cum simply alone from nipple play, and that plays into your fantasies perfectly. "Aha! N-no more, I need to b-be ins-IDE you!" Choso wreathed underneath you as you sat on his stomach playing with his nipples, licking, sucking, and biting the pink nubs. His hands and feet were tied to the corners of the bed, and you only let go on one of his nipples that you've been licking and sucking, and softly kiss his wet lips. "just one more baby, and you can get whatever you want, just one more." His breath shook as he nodded, feeling your warm lips and tongue resume what they were doing before.
𝘾𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙗 𝙃𝙪𝙨𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝘾𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙤 who always, always, ALWAYS records/photographs you when you're being intimate. He had no plans of using them in a certain way, let alone post them, but he likes the feeling of having you with him everywhere, and that being when you both were the closest, when you both were the most connected (pun intended). The photos usually consists you somehow seductively posed before the intimate moment begun, then you looking like a hot mess. "fuckkk, look up at the camera baby, don't care which lense, look at all three for all I care." Choso encouraged as he bobbed your head up and down his dick. He groaned when you made eye contact with the camera, Choso getting butterflies seeing you look so... Sexy. Choso smirked as he recorded you, the gagging and slick sounds filled the phone, and all he could do was smirk at how obedient and hot you were. "Just like that, when I'm done recording this, I want a few more angles of you in different positions, does that sound okay?"
𝘾𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙗 𝙃𝙪𝙨𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝘾𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙤 who could literally fuck you for days. Not an exaggeration. He would fuck you all night, and let you sleep for a few hours, and then fuck you again for many more hours, then let you sleep. You once did nothing but fuck for 3 days straight, and that's because your husband was in Paris for a month. Choso could not get enough of your pussy, and you could not get enough of his dick. His dick was everything you could have ever wanted (next paragraph goes in more detail). He knew how to use it, and so did you. You knew how to roll your hips and how hard you should bounce on his dick for it to reach your g-spot. You were good at finding it, but he was the best. "Harder, Cho! Please baby!" You moaned into his ear as he pounded into you. Choso quickly stopped his thrusts, and readjusted himself. He spread your legs even more, and spread his legs a little more too. He got better ground, and it was fucking game over for you. He rammed fast into you, and the immediate buttery feeling filled you. You let out scream in Euphoria, and he chuckled "Found it." Before he leaned down to kiss you. His hands gripped the sides of your head tightly as you both moaned loudly into each other's space. He smiled seeing your fucked out face, and couldn't help but think how you look a billion times hotter all fucked and spaced out for him.
𝘾𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙗 𝙃𝙪𝙨𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝘾𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙤 who has a big dick. You knew, he knew, the media knew. How does the media know? Creepy people were taking photos of him at the beach, straight at his crotch, that sparked a whole new thing that resulted in many stories and fanfics being written about him that always talked about it, but here's his trusty wife to tell us the details. His dick is big in every way. 8.5. Fucking. Inches. Long. Not a joke, not a myth, it's a fact. And before any of you "that's not even a lot!" People start bitching, go look up an 8 inch dick and see if you can take that comfortably.. anyways, I digress. Everytime you both fuck, it hurts in the beginning. Choso obviously peeps you more than most, but it still can't change the fact it goes so deep. The stretch is a bit over moderate, but the depth is insane. You could actually feel it in your tummy, and Choso always pushes his hand deep into your tummy to feel it go in and out. You always wondered how you got so lucky to have a man like him, handsome on every part of him, inside and out, but truthfully, Choso always questions how he even pulled you, so who's really lucky?
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f1version · 1 year
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THERE’S ONLY ONE..COUCH ★ CS55
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pairing: carlos sainz jr x fem!reader (she/her)
summary: You and Carlos have to sleep at Lando’s place after a party, but the guest room has no furniture, you have to sleep in the living room. So, there’s no ‘only one bed’… there’s only one couch.
warning: teasing, carlos speaking spanish.
word count: 1.5k (it's 1.555 and i love that)
note: this is my first “one shot” ever, i am SCARED. also asking for part two is allowed in this one lmao, tell me if you would like that :)
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Three days ago, Lando Norris had won his first race in Formula 1 and because celebrations were never-ending to him, he had to do something with his closest friends two days after the big obnoxious party. That’s how you and Carlos ended up in Lando’s apartment in Monaco.
Now, the thing is, Lando was the one who bought the plane tickets, then sent them to you that morning, he was in a rush since you were his only guests who didn’t reside in Monaco. And you were also in a rush, so no return tickets or hotel. And even if you could afford a night in Monaco, you were still drunk-out-off-your-mind at this point.
So.
"Hey Lando, do you think that um... I stay the night? If it isn’t a bother, obviously.” You said, words collide with each other.
“Oh, of course, mate! I already told Carlos you guys could crash here.” Lando says with a new bottle of wine, you laugh at his drunk mannerisms. "But, the guest room has no furniture yet, so you have the couch or the floor.” the brunette explains.
"The couch is fine," Carlos answers behind you.
Lando raised an eyebrow "For you two?"
You understood the doubt, he was asking if you would be comfortable. The brit didn’t have that teasing tone when he sees couples interact. On that note, you exchanged glances with Carlos and he shrugged before nodding.
"Yes," you both said at the same time.
Charles choked on some wine, laughing. The Monegasque had been talking with Lando when you approached him. “Sorry, mate, I just like that they get along so well.” He clarifies and winks at you.
You rolled your eyes, Charles has been like this for months, insisting you should date Carlos, saying you both are far into each other. You tell him he is just your friend, you’re his engineer, but Charles Leclerc can be very stubborn.
“Yes, well, I think I'm going to the balcony for air, I'll see you later.” You babble and Charles lets out a big laugh. “Thank you again, Lan”
“I'm going with you.” Carlos says.
“What?”
"I'm going to take some air with you," Carlos explains to you and you nod, exiting the scene side by side, leaving behind Charles’ victorious smile and new gossip for Lando.
"I'm going to sleep on the floor," Carlos says as you approach the balcony.
“No, you won’t. You have media duty to attend this week, Carlitos, please.”
“I'll be fine, mujer!” he smiles, surrounding your shoulders with his arm “I've been doing it for a while now.”
“And that’s exactly why you shouldn't” you exclaim “If it bothers you, I'll take the floor.”
Carlos looks at you as if you just committed a crime and shakes his head. You laugh, snuggling a little into the Spaniard's arm, feeling warm and safe around him. Yeah, Carlos made you feel safe.
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“Carlos, as part of the Ferrari team, I don't want you sleeping on the floor.” You complain, again.
You have been having this discussion for about three minutes. It was simple, Sainz said that he was used to it and you attacked, saying that there was room for both of you on the couch.
“Cariño, there is no room for both of us on the couch.” He repeats for the thousand time “Just lay down and sleep, I'm fine.”
"Sainz, stop it. There is enough room here, so you come to sleep here, where there is enough space, or I will make sure you can’t seat, rest or sleep in beds and couches for the rest of the season"
At that moment, Carlos turned to look at you with wide eyes, it was a funny statement, but he loved when you went all fearless for him.
Getting lost in his thoughts, Carlos gave you enough time to believe you had won the battle; so when he looked at you again, you already had a satisfied smile on your face, and he knew he had no way out.
Carlos sighed. "Okay, you win, just promise that you won't do that, please”
You looked at him tenderly and smiled. It was a peculiar smile, it was full of yearning and confessions. It wasn’t a smile you gave a lot, at least not to people who weren’t Carlos Sainz Jr. Oh, but Carlos was too blinded in his own fascination to notice.
“It’s okay, for now, I'll leave your furniture alone.”
After that, you shared a couple of laughs with the Spaniard before sitting on the sofa, moving the cushions aside, and putting down the pillows Lando gave you.
You lay down, turning to Carlos —whose eyes haven’t left you— making a small signal for him to lay down next to you.
The Spaniard approached quietly, laying down. And, it turns out, the couch wasn't as big as it looked, a quarter of Carlos's body was outside it, and it was somewhat uncomfortable.
"Hey, do you think you can move a little?" Carlos asked in a soft tone, to which you automatically agreed.
You both started to move and complain, because when you moved, he did, making you uncomfortable. You moved again. It was still messy.
This is how a few minutes passed between complaints and movement, at least before you fell directly on top of Carlos, after that, everything was silence, surprise, and closeness. Bodies so close you felt the other’s skin burn through your clothes.
You wanted to burn.
“I told you there wasn't enough space.” Carlos whispered, mockingly.
“Are you uncomfy?” You asked with annoyance, he shakes his head. "Then you're fine, I'm not uncomfy either."
For a moment, silence rules the room. Quiet enough to hear Carlos’ heart beating against his chest, you breathe deeply, so deeply that he feels it.
"You’re heart is racing, honey," you whisper, pet name slipping right through. You normally use it to joke around, and you think you are, but at some point it feels like you’re supposed to say it.
His eyes dart over your face, looking for something he knows he will find. “So it’s yours.”
You see it then. Gaze drowned in desire, pupils dilated just like yours. There’s also fear—fear of making the wrong move, of dooming something that has barely started.
You bring your fingers to Carlos’ face, caressing his jaw in the most delicate way you know.
“I want... Mi vida, can I kiss-” You don’t let him finish his question, your lips are on his.
Carlos holds you by the neck, bringing you closer. His face tilts slightly, kissing deeper. His tongue asks for permission to play with yours as butterflies find home in your stomach. You can feel Carlos melting from the taste of you, loving the feeling, the intimacy of the moment.
This felt so right yet so wrong. It was strange. One of his engineers and him. If any of the team knew, this could end bad, would bring a thousand problems, attention none of you wanted for each other. But they didn't know.
Carlos felt too good for it to be a bad thing.
He wants to kiss you for as long as you let him. He wants to pour his heart into every single one.
He wants it to last forever and that’s why splitting is the worst part of it. That moment when your body asks you for more, but needs to breathe. When it asks to be pleased, but can’t stop begging for mercy. You want his lips to be mercy. But you find air.
Carlos looks at you in fascination, his hands instinctively falling on your hips. Something stops him.
“Can I touch you?” He asks and you nod.
The Spaniard’s eyes sparkle, surrendering to intimacy. His fingers begin to slide down your curves, slow and fearful, trying to do everything not to disturb you. You who can’t be more eager.
“Your curves are… beautiful” He whispers, looking for the words he wanted, “So perfect.”
“Carlos,”
“Si, mi vida?” He whispers into your ear, biting the lobe gently. This small contact causes your back to arch slightly. Carlos speaks again “So, so, beautiful.”
“Carlos, please,” you beg, it was unnecessary to ask if you wanted to stop or continue.
"Oh, what I would do to you if we weren't at Lando’s place." That little innuendo seems to leave Carlos’ lips by accident, realization making his face burn.
You just smile. Wanting more, wanting his words to be spoken with promise.
“Want to know something, Sainz? We have a two-week break after this race, and I have no plans.” That makes Carlos smile, closing the gap between you once again. You wonder if it would actually happen, if it’s not you making empty promises.
“Then I’ll have to get you to Spain.” Carlos whispers, kissing your neck, finding comfort in it. “Good night, mi vida.”
“Good night, my love.”
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translations:
linda pretty cariño sweetheart mi vida my life
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chrollohearttags · 4 months
Note
sister cherry can we get some more sfw firefigher!ace hcs that you have in the vaults. i love him down 🥹🤲🏿🤲🏿
ask and you shall surely receive, my love!! y’all know how I feel about this mannnn omg. him and his stupid smile are in my cranium rent free 😫 driving me insane.
⚠️: fluff, comedy, light kissing and him being an absolute sweetheart
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FIREFIGHTER ACE HEADCANONS: PART TWO • SFW EDITION
firefighter!ace is unironically and blissfully unaware of the fact that he’s kind of Twitter/TikTok famous. Somebody happened to get a picture of him and a bunch of other first responders at an event and now he’s known on social media as ‘Firefighter Bae.’ Now he used it to his advantage to post workout vids, safety tips and humor about some of the things they encounter on the job.
firefighter!ace has a special lapel pin he always wears on his uniform or on his persons that he got from his crew mate, who passed in a fire years ago.
firefighter!ace has the HARDEST time letting the pets go from rescues. It can be someone’s dog with a whole name and address on the tag but he’s holding him like it’s his own.
“Are you sure we can’t keep him?” “Ace, give those people their dog so we can go!”
firefighter!ace adoresss kids! He’s always the first pick of the schools for fire safety day because he’s so charismatic and fun that the children just cling to him. Taking them on the fire truck, letting them wear the gear and even playing with them. He was such a natural, you became flustered and began to like him even more.
firefighter!ace gets along with all of your friends/roommates..a little too well in fact! Always going to Robin to snitch on you or Nami to gossip about how temperamental you are! But they adore him so much.
“You know how she is, she won’t listen to anybody.” “Tell me about it, she’s so hardheaded.” “Y’all do know I’m right here, don’t you? I can hear you!”
firefighter!ace owns a motorcycle and is an avid biker. He and his friends race + have their own lil club. He also brought you a matching jacket/helmet to ride with him.
firefighter!ace is suuuper affectionate. His love language is physical touch and always being near his s/o. All but gave up on being discreet when you guys FINALLY started dating and would kiss you on the cheek or grab your waist in front of the whole crew.
“What? I can’t kiss my wife? Assholes.” “You just started dating a month ago, calm down!
firefighter!ace loves when you play with his hair and lets him lay his head in your lap. He finds comfort in it after long days and rough calls. He’s already narcoleptic but he sleeps like a baby when you’re near him. Bonus points if you sing to him, he’s out like a light!
firefighter!ace loves dancing and he’s pretty good at it too.
firefighter!ace wears a matching beaded bracelet or necklace with your name/initials on it all the time. Carries it with him wherever he goes and always kisses it before going into a dangerous situation. And vice versa..to have each other’s strength. Even when you can’t show it.
firefighter!ace is incredibly bashful, despite his appearance, personality and reputation as a playboy. He gets insecure occasionally that you’ll find better.
“I know it’s not much, rookie. But I wanted to get you something. Just to show how proud I was of you..you did amazing on that call today.” “I know you can do better, I’m just happy you’re in my life.” “Oh shut up. As if anyone else could actually handle me. And I guess I’m kinda in love with you.”
firefighter!ace is never hesitant to tell you he loves you because he doesn’t know if it’ll ever be his last time saying it. So he doesn’t shy away from a moment to express his feelings.
firefighter!ace likes to show off during workouts by letting you sit on his back as he does pushups. But he knows you’re no princess and he’ll eventually get challenged by you to see who can do the most. (Of course placing a small wager to sweeten the deal.)
“Seriously, rookie. Here I am trying to be romantic and cool, and you ruin it. Such a goddamned brat.” “You were trying to showboat, you arrogant bastard and look where that got you. Now pay up.”
firefighter!ace LOVESSS watching you do your hair and going to the beauty supply with you. He loves the smell of all the natural oils and even asks you to pick him out some stuff. He doesn’t mind helping twist in a braid or two either. Once he gets the hang of it, this man is in your head like he’s a professional! Doing crochet, locs and all.
“Can you do the blonde braids again? They’re my favorite on you. Plus they look good with the uniform.” “You say that about all of them!”
firefighter!ace truly does love being in your presence. Whether it’s rushing through burning buildings or a chill night in his apartment, surrounded by ambient lighting and faux plants as the two of you cuddle…as long as he’s with you, it’s his happy place.
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neptuneiris · 10 months
Text
cardigan (02/03)
tried to change the ending, Peter losing Wendy.
pairing: modern!aemond × best friend reader!
summary: being in love with your best friend since high school becomes a strong and unavoidable feeling. until it starts to become more difficult when you get to college and the two of you, especially him, meet new people.
word count: 8.4k
previous part • next part • series masterlist
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As you're looking down at yourself, making sure there's nothing out of place, you just hear the loud sound of Sara inhaling deeply which makes you startle and you watch her quickly in panic.
hello! i just want to say that i can't believe how much you guys loved the first part. the story just exploded hehe. I'm so grateful for that, for your support and your opinions, I didn't think it would happen so soon, thank you very much.
i wanted to give you part two after such a quick acknowledgement and support, truly thank you so much and also let me know what you think of this second part please, i love reading and responding to you. enjoy!
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"You like this one?"
"What?"
"No fucking way, Y/N! You look amazing!"
And at that moment you can feel the color come back to your face and you calm down.
"Come here!" she asks you excitedly, "I want to take a closer look."
You stand in front of her and turn on your own axis to get a better look at yourself in the large full-length mirror, instantly liking what you see.
Last year your dress for the Targaryen ball was red. And you don't usually repeat colors. So now you've chosen a deep ocean blue dress.
Which is Aemond's favorite color.
"This is the one, definitely."
"Really?" you put your hair behind your shoulders, watching you carefully, "Is this one better than the last one?"
"In my opinion the style is better."
You've tried on dresses of the same color in different styles before and honestly… you liked this one better than the others.
It's a long dress open at an angle exposing your left leg. It has no neckline, is strapless and shimmers in a metallic shade beautifully.
This is it.
You think definitely more convinced than ever as you look in the mirror after a few more inspections. You'll shine brighter with your hair and makeup done, you know it and you know you'll look beautiful. That's why you can't wait for the day to come.
You can't wait for Aemond to see you.
"And why did you choose this color?"
"Because it's Aemond's favorite color and it will match his sapphire."
"Oh yes," says Sara in a reminiscent tone, "I had forgotten that detail about your best friend."
"His sapphire eye?"
"Yes."
"But if that's precisely why everyone at the university knows him."
"They also know him for his hair and for apparently having come from the very palace of the Greek gods, don't forget," she says, also amused.
You let out a small laugh.
"Yeah, it's true."
After a little silence between the two of them where they inspect the dress, Sara stirs a little and seems to fight against herself to say what she wants to say. Until she grimaces and nerves invade her as she speaks.
"Listen Y/N…" she says cautiously, "It's not that I want to be nosy or anything, in fact I don't like to know people's things about things like…" she bites the inside of her cheek "That seem very delicate" she says finally "And it's that I'm very curious, I—
"You're a gossip, Sara," you remind him in an amused tone, interrupting her.
"Well… yeah, it's true, who am I kidding," she nods in acknowledgment, shrugging her shoulders and you laugh.
"You want to know what happened to Aemond's eye?"
"Yes," she murmurs, almost embarrassed, "But it's just out of curiosity and if it's something very personal then I understand."
You take a long breath and look away from the mirror to observe her.
"Yes, it's very personal," you tell her, "I can only tell you that it was a horrible accident that happened to him as a kid. He still finds it a little difficult to talk about it, even with his mother and sister."
"Yes, of course," Sara nods sympathetically, "In fact something like that I had imagined."
You nod too, sympathetically, thinking about it.
"At first, when I met Aemond in high school and we started our friendship, he didn't want to tell me," you confess, "It's not as if I insisted on the matter, of course not... but he knew I was curious about it. And it wasn't until after he was sure that I wasn't a fake friend, as I was with him, that we both confided a lot of things to each other until he told me about his accident."
"How old was he?" she ask attentively and curiously.
"Barely ten."
Sara raises her eyebrows in surprise with a face of pity.
"Ten?" she repeats in a murmur, "Wow. I can't even imagine. It must have been pretty awful, huh?"
"It was," you assure her.
You know Aemond has only told about what happened to you and a guy who was his best friend in high school, who now that guy got into another college in another state.
And what happened was that Aemond defended his little nephew, Luke, from some boys who were picking on him and wanting to almost beat him up at school.
But the blows went to Aemond who had to defend himself as best he could against four boys even a little bigger than he was at the time.
Then one of the boys did not measure his strength, hit him and pushed him too, and because of the push Aemond fell on top of a net of wires that made up a small garden in the huge backyard of the school.
They didn't even let him get up, so Aemond also hurt some parts of his body.
And out of desperation, before he could try to do anything, another one of the boys hit him in the face and that's when a piece of wire ripped his eye as he turned his head towards the wires from the blow.
When Aemond was telling you everything, you didn't even know what to say.
And the best punishment the bully boys could have received was to have been expelled. But it wasn't enough for Aemond and his family. They had taken his eye and that was 'justice'.
Luckily his whole family supported him and was there for him through the whole difficult process of doctors appointments, therapies, medications and so on.
His uncle Daemon especially made sure he received the best possible treatment with the best doctors and nurses while his older sister, Rhaenyra, searched for solutions to his lost eye along with his mother.
"And why does he have that sapphire? Didn't he think about a prosthesis or something like that?"
"As a kid, all he wanted was to recover and cope with the physical and emotional pain, and also to get used to his only right sight," you explain, "And then he told me he was thinking about it, but it's been a long time. Maybe he has already got used to the sapphire."
"And it doesn't hurt him?" asks Sara curiously, thoughtfully.
"No, he always has his appointments with the ophthalmologist," you let her know, "I guess the sapphire is to maintain an appearance. Kind of like what rich people do."
"Oh, of course," Sara nods with more understanding, "It makes perfect sense vonsidering how exaggeratedly rich he and his family are."
You let out a small laugh, turning to look at yourself in the mirror at the beautiful dress.
"Yes, they are," you murmur, "Are you sure your aunt will let me pay her weekly?" you ask, looking at her again a little worried.
"I already told you yes, Y/N. Stop worrying," she says amused.
"But she already knows?" you ask distrustful.
"Yes, she knows," she assures you for the eighth time, "She just said that by the time you decide to stop paying for it for one reason or another, there is no refund and you have to return the dress. And if you tear it, stain it or something, you pay extra."
"Oh, I'm not worried about that," you make a nonchalant gesture, "I'm definitely going to finish paying for it."
You think about how the dress is so beautiful that it doesn't deserve to be worn for just one occasion. You can wear it to another event, not necessarily just the ball.
And after you've picked out the last dress, you both leave the dressing room, secure everything for payment, and Sara takes you home and you both say goodbye saying you will see each other tomorrow in class.
When you arrive at the apartment, only Vhagar greets you, to which you assume that Aemond must still be in class or with his girlfriend.
So you decide to take Vhagar with you to your room to do some homework and wait for Aemond to arrive to have dinner together.
And by the time you finally hear his arrival at the apartment, you take Vhagar in your arms and leave your room to ask him how his day was and what he wants for dinner tonight to see if it matches what you want.
But the words get stuck in your throat the moment you see him and your eyes meet his, watching him in shock, definitely not expecting this.
And at your reaction of saying nothing and continuing to stare at him in disbelief, he lets out a small laugh as he runs a hand through his neck and hair.
"What do you think?"
And that's when you seem to remember how to talk.
"No way," you mutter, "Are you fucking kidding?"
"As I understand it, your head can't grow, Y/N. At least not at this age," he tells you amused.
"Shit," you say still in disbelief, "It looks fucking amazing, Aemond!" you finally react with a huge smile.
He has cut his hair.
His fucking long hair is now short and he looks so ridiculously good, like it's not an everyday thing, as well as he looks even better than before and even... sexy.
And in an instant you're all over him, running your fingers through now his short, silky, still straight hair with some waves at the ends that now point slightly upwards.
Even his face, his figure, his sapphire, everything about him looks better than before just because of a haircut.
"Why didn't you tell me?" you ask, still surprised and puzzled, with a small smile.
"I wanted it to be a surprise," he says with a smile, "What do you say, do you really like it?"
"I love it," you confess, "Even you, everything about you—
You stop, not wanting to look nervous, not wanting to insinuate your true feelings for him through his new appearance.
That's why you think very well what you will say before you speak, controlling yourself not to say anything too much.
"Well... it looks better," you finally say.
"Thank you, pretty one."
He smiles at you and you melt at the sight of his expression, simply because of the gesture accompanied by his new cut, so you couldn't be more ridiculous, but you can't help it either.
You find it so attractive and so striking the way you watch his dimples form and look, even they so damn good, again, because of his new haircut.
"I hope Alys likes it too."
You bite your lips, not wanting to focus on his comment at the mention of his girlfriend.
"And why did you decide to cut it?" you ask not to talk about her, acting nonchalant but still feeling surprised.
"I thought it would be a good idea to cut it for the ball," he confesses, "It's this weekend and I thought I'd do it now because I knew I wouldn't do it later."
You both laugh, as that is very Aemond Targaryen and you both know it.
"Well, I'm glad to hear that," you say with a small smile, "I've got everything ready for the ball too."
"Oh really?" he raises his eyebrows, interested, "Now what color dress did you choose?"
"Nope. No details."
You turn away from him in an instant and head to the fridge to finally make dinner, because you know if he keeps looking at you and talking like that, you'll end up showing him everything.
"Oh come on, Y/N."
"I'm so sorry but you'll have to wait for the day."
"Are you serious?" he asks you.
"Even your new haircut isn't going to convince me."
"Hmm."
He certainly says with a disappointed tone and you let out a laugh.
"Be patient, Aemond. Now..." You look at him, "What do you want for dinner?"
You and Aemond talk about what his mother has told him she has planned this time for the ball with his sister Rhaenyra while you prepare dinner and listen to him at the same time. And when everything is ready, you both watch a movie in the living room.
And the next morning, Aemond Targaryen with his new haircut is all you hear about even among all the girls in your apartment. Even something as simple as a haircut drives them all crazy. Even you.
But that it's already a real topic of conversation is amazing.
And the next few days are really stressful for you, also for Aemond, as you have to push your respective careers forward with homework and projects.
In fact the week is so busy that you barely have time for breakfast in the morning as you have to rush to the university. Aemond also told you that he was very busy with the same thing.
But it's worth it.
You tell yourself even in every break that you actually make use of to continue doing more homework.
And for you there is no better motivation than knowing that by the time the week is over, you will finally be free and the ball will be a great way to finally relax and have fun with your best friend.
And you honestly can't wait.
However, you were not prepared to hear what Aemond says to you the day before the ball when you arrive at the apartment and he is already there, apparently waiting for your arrival.
And you knew it wouldn't be good what he would say to you the moment you see the sadness, worry and sorrow in his eyes as he watches you.
"My family wants to meet Alys."
He tells you and then says nothing for a few more seconds, looking away from you, running a hand through his hair, frustrated, to which you already know what he will probably tell you.
"And I couldn't think of any better occasion than to take her with me to the ball so everyone can meet her."
And her words stab like a dagger into your heart, shattering it into little pieces.
And he speaks to you so softly, so carefully and so sorrowfully at the same time while you want to believe it's a damn joke and he's really not doing this to you.
"I'm so sorry, my pretty one," he looks at you with all the anguish in his eyes for your reaction, worried, "Could you do me this favor, just this once, please?"
Do him the favor?
You repeat in your mind, just watching him without really having any expression in your look, because you don't want to make him see that he has broken you with this news and this suddenly change of plans.
And his next words only make you feel worse for your lack of response, with him wanting to make the situation better, as if it were possible.
"You could still come, you know. I'll be with Alys, but Helaena or Aegon can keep you company and eventually I'll try to be around you as well."
"I'm not taking Alys."
He had said.
"This ball belongs to both of us, it always has. And I'm not going to break the tradition."
He had promised you.
And you say to yourself: he is asking you this as a favor. It's just a ball and it's only fair that his escort should be his girlfriend. Don't bother, you shouldn't bother.
"I know you had everything ready and I know I shouldn't be telling you this a day early."
He continues saying to you with sorrow, and then he goes to you in a desperate action and takes your hands in his.
"But I promise you that I will make it up to you, I will—
Unable to stand it any longer, you take your hands from his, which makes him stop and look at you instantly, a little surprised and worried by your reaction.
And you again... you act unconcerned and like it's no big deal.
Mostly because you no longer want to keep listening to his promises that are worthless in the end, you also don't want to be around him right now and also because you want to end the matter once and for all.
"Okay, I understand."
You tell him with the best look you can put at that moment, really trying to pretend that everything is fine, almost convincing him, almost.
"Don't worry."
And without waiting for anything else, because you really want to get away from him, feeling that if he tells you something else you're really going to burst into tears right then and there, you walk past him and head to your room.
But he doesn't let you go so easily.
"Y/N..." He holds you by the shoulders, looking at you worriedly, "Talk to me, please."
You let out a small laugh, the fakest laugh you've ever let out, trying with all your might to make it okay.
"What do you want me to say? I told you it's okay."
Again you try to pass by him but he again stops you. And you let him.
You let him because you don't want him to see you bad, broken. You let him because if you get upset, if you let him see that he has broken you, you fear he will realize your true feelings.
And you don't want that now that he has a girlfriend and looks happy with her. So happy that she even managed to change his mind about taking her to the ball even though he told you he wouldn't because that ball belonged to the two of you.
And you don't want to ruin that for him if that's what he wants, you also don't want to make a big deal about the change of plans. You want to make him see that you're okay with it.
Again...you don't want to look sad and broken in front of him.
"I know you, Y/N," he says to you in a sad, apologetic soft voice, "I know you're not okay with me wanting to take her now because I told you I wouldn't, that this ball belongs to both of us," he lets out a long breath, "But I—
"I'm perfectly fine with it, Aemond," you interrupt him with the most nonchalant and fake look possible, "I mean... she's your girlfriend and it's only fair that you take her, right?"
And your words don't know why they make her feel worse when that's just what she needed from you: understanding.
But somehow it feels a hell of a lot worse that you're understanding him after he knows he promised you he wouldn't take her and you'd both go together.
"But you—
"Look... actually this is good," you lie, "Now I have a lot of homework to finish and also a big project due on monday. The weekend will help me to get everything done and delivered on time."
That's what you assure him even though this whole week you had worn yourself out getting everything ahead of schedule for next week so you could go to the ball and have fun without any more worries.
"Are you..." He looks at you suspiciously, "Are you sure?"
"Very," you say, putting on a small fake smile, "Now I just want to rest before I do everything."
He watches you for a few seconds with the softest and gentlest expression possible, still a little worried, while you watch him firmly back to show him that it's okay.
Even though it hurts like hell all this is happening.
"Well," he murmurs, looking away from you, nodding slightly, "Would you like me to make some dinner for the two of us? I can...
"No thanks," you cut him off, "I want to sleep, that's all."
And finally, carrying all your dignity with you, you head to your room, pretending that everything is fine and that you are fine.
But as you close the door to your room behind you, that's when all the appearance finally goes away and you allow yourself to really feel the way you feel.
And it makes it worse to see the beautiful dress on your bed, looking so spectacular, so ready to be worn, when you will no longer need it for the main occasion you decided to buy it and wanted to wear it for so badly.
Looking at it with longing and sadness, the first tears fall down your cheeks and you avoid letting out a sob as you bite your lips.
You would have preferred that Aemond told you about taking his girlfriend that day when you went to get the dress and then he came home with his new haircut. It would have been more preferable to telling you the day before the ball.
Either way, though, you know it would have destroyed you, just the same way you feel destroyed now.
That's why the next morning, you don't even leave your room. You don't want to and can't see Aemond knowing that today is the day it was supposed to be the two of you.
So you only leave your room when you make sure Aemond is in his room to grab something from the fridge and get back to your cave as quickly as possible.
Until the time of the ball gets closer and closer and you make sure your desk is full of sheets of your previous projects, pretending to be busy as you had told Aemond you would be.
Even his sister, Helaena, sends you an excited message asking if you will come tonight and with all the pain in your heart, you reply that you will not be able to come as you are too busy with homework and projects.
When Aemond knocks on your bedroom door and calls you from the other side. You quickly go to your desk, pretend to be busy with the sheets, tell him to come in and he does.
"I'm leaving now, pretty one."
"Okay, have fun," you say in the best possible tone, without looking at him.
You really don't want to look at him.
"I will probably come here to sleep, I don't think I'll stay anywhere else, just to let you know," he says in a soft and cautious tone, still a little worried about yesterday.
"Yeah, that's fine."
A few seconds of silence and then you hear him let out a sigh.
"Are you sure you don't want to come? You know Helaena and my brothers will be there. I can wait for you to leave."
You bite the inside of your cheek, annoyed that he's suggesting this again, when you shouldn't be.
You know he means well, but it bothers you, it hurts you. How does he think you'll want to go to the ball after changing your plans?
"I have a lot to do," you answer briefly.
And again you hear another one of his sighs.
"Okay," he murmurs.
But he doesn't leave immediately, you hear how he is still at your door and you feel his penetrating gaze, as if he is asking you for forgiveness, but you don't even look at him.
You can't and you don't want to.
You think that if he tries to talk about it again, you'll tell him how busy you are so he won't do it.
But fortunately you only hear him let out a long breath and finally close the door to your room. And the next thing you hear are his footsteps and then the apartment door opening and closing.
The next few days after what happened between you and Aemond at the ball are again like you didn't want them to be.
But it seems that the ball was an important point that broke between you and Aemond and again he and you don't spend time together anymore. It's only in the mornings when you both see each other for breakfast, but there isn't even a conversation for the time being.
There are no more movie weekends, no more going to a restaurant for breakfast on some weekends, and no more going to the grocery store together.
However, the agreement remains that he takes care of everything financially and you take care of the food, laundry and cleaning.
Still, it's as if you live alone.
Suddenly Aemond stopped coming to the apartment less and less, as well as he has stopped sleeping here constantly anymore.
Sometimes there are not even any more of his clothes to wash, mostly because they are still clean or because he takes them away or has left them somewhere else, with Alys obviously.
All the food is finished by you since he barely eats breakfast or dinner here. And the few times you've gotten to talk, there's been no mention of the ball at all.
And you can tell, as he also shows, that he seems to be very busy with his classes and also with his girlfriend.
He still pay for the electricity, water and everything you need, you know he does, but he's not even here. Now it's like you totally take care of Vhagar, which you don't complain about, but she's supposed to be his dog because you gave her to him.
And even though things are tense between you, you still can't help but feel sad and lonely every time you realize that he didn't even get to sleep and on weekends you're all alone.
Whenever you text him asking where he is or why he didn't get to sleep, he always replies the same thing: Alys. He apologizes for not telling you but still never tells you.
Now you sleep in the apartment all alone, with only Vhagar's company every day. And even though it hurt you a lot about the ball, you still miss your best friend very much.
You missed him the most especially when a nasty storm hit King's Landing at night and lasted all morning until six o'clock.
You hate storms and Aemond also knows that you are afraid of them.
That night you couldn't sleep at all, you were curled up hiding under your sheets, hugging Vhagar as your only comfort, hoping that everything would pass soon.
The next morning you couldn't go to class due to lack of sleep and Aemond didn't even show up at the apartment.
Until one night, saturday at one o'clock in the morning, you heard the sound of the door and his footsteps in the living room and kitchen.
And ready to talk to him about how you've been feeling these past few days, as well as the fact that you practically live here alone, you head out of your room.
But you stop just as you open a crack in your door when you hear and realize that he is not alone.
"We should have arrived at my house, Aemond."
"We talked about this, Alys."
"But she's always here. I don't understand why she never goes out with friends or anything."
"I told you she's not that type."
You could have closed the door and gone to sleep with the idea of talking about what you had in mind with him another day, but you stay still when you hear that they are talking about you.
And what Alys says next only makes you stand stiller and listen more attentively.
"Oh my love... Are you still worried about her?"
You sharpen your ear more, attentive and confused.
Worried about me?
You repeat in your mind not understanding, willing to listen more, even though you shouldn't but still you do.
"I'm not worried. I'm just thinking about her."
"You are worried, Aemond," Alys repeats in affirmation and in a serious tone, "What I don't understand is why if the ball was two weeks ago."
"I know," you hear him mutter, "But still, you should have seen her face... she already had everything ready and I told her a day before that I wouldn't take her with me."
"But she told you it was okay, didn't she?"
"Yeah, but..." sigh, "In a way it felt much worse that she understood."
Alys lets out a snort.
"Of course she must have understood, my love," she says obviously, "I'm your girlfriend, not her."
You press your lips together, thinking that it didn't even cross your mind that he was still thinking about the ball when he doesn't even see you and isn't even here.
You don't fully understand but you do have an idea that after the ball, maybe he needed to distance himself from you and that's why you haven't seen each other anymore and he doesn't come to the apartment.
Maybe he felt really bad about himself for killing your illusion of going to the ball together, like every year.
But if he feels so bad, then why did he do it?
You ask yourself with some bitterness.
Apparently Alys was more convincing to him and it's okay, she's his girlfriend, but he's just feeling bad after it's all over.
"You care a lot about her and it's ridiculous, Aemond. As ridiculous as it is that she lives here and doesn't give you a single penny."
And then again her words catch your attention more than ever and you continue listening attentively, with your face falling because of her words.
"Alys..." he calls out to her in a tired tone, "I already explained that to you."
"But even so," she insists with an absurd tone, "Won't she be ashamed? She's your best friend and she doesn't even think about helping you a little?"
"She does help me and you know it."
"I mean financially."
"Her parents send her what money they can for college. She buys food and also buys what she needs for her classes and other necessities."
"Oh, so not only she doesn't help you with money, but also her parents?"
"Alys–
"Hasn't she even thought about getting a job?"
"Yes, but I told her that it wasn't necessary, that she could help me with the domestic and I could help her with the money without charging her anything."
"Are you serious?"
"She's my best friend, Alys. I'm the one who convinced her to live with me because I wanted her to."
"No, Aemond. It wasn't because you wanted to. It was because you pity her."
Your heart skips a beat and you open your lips and listen in surprise, beginning to feel that sharp pain in your chest as it hurts to hear those words.
"No," he says firmly, "It's never been like that."
"Oh please, don't fool yourself," she insists, "Y/N is not like you and me...her family has no money and from what you've told me, she's always been on scholarship in everything."
"Not everyone can have what we have, Alys," he says incredulously, "Besides, why would I care if she has money or not? Other people like us are really distasteful and don't have even a shred of humility, sincerity and trustworthiness like she has."
"I don't see it that way. I think she's so different and you feel so sorry for her that you've made it easy for her by putting her in an apartment like this because you know she and her family don't have the resources."
"That's what you think. But she and I both know that's not true."
He says with a confident tone and yes, it is true.
Alys at this moment made you doubt, a lot, because of the venom he was spitting out every word and for speaking so confidently about how he really feels about you.
But you never felt that Aemond treated you, since their friendship began, with pity.
Never.
"She has always been there for me and never with the intention of taking advantage of me for what I have. Not for nothing is she my best friend and you know how selective I am with my friends."
You hear the long sigh she lets out, to which you must think she has an irritated face.
"Well, if you say so," she says bitterly, "Still, isn't it annoying that she's always here? She doesn't go out to parties, she has no friends but you, and whenever we come here we can't even have the privacy we'd like because she's locked in her room."
"This is her house too."
"She's not a child anymore, Aemond. You should tell her to get a job and an apartment of her own or live in the dorm now. Tell her you want your own space now."
"It's not even a year since we've been living together, Alys."
"So, if I tell you in one more year that we want us to live together, will she live with both of us too?
"Of course not."
He answers instantly in an absurd low tone and again you feel your heart break at his words because of how quickly he answered and in what tone.
And you can't blame him, those are plans with his girlfriend, you have nothing to do there. But you can't help it and it really hurts because you will never be her.
"Look... I admit that I do wish I could have more privacy and also that she would go out to have fun and meet new people... I even want to get here with you and she's not here."
You feel the tears start to form in your eyes, but you bite your lips and control yourself.
"But I can't just tell her that I want to live alone now and give her to understand that I want her to leave. And I really don't want her to leave, not like this," he say honestly, "Not when things are still tense between us," he sighs, "She's my best friend and I love her. I don't want to hurt her anymore. I really want to make things right with her."
And as if everything Aemond had just said wasn't relevant to Alys, she says the following with every intention of it actually happening someday soon.
"What if the two of us go live together somewhere else?"
And the few seconds of silence afterwards on Aemond's part you know is from his confusion.
"Hm?"
"If you don't want to hurt her, fine, let her keep living here so you can feel good about yourself by continuing to help her."
You frown, really hating and feeling annoyed with his girlfriend's words.
"Then we can look for another apartment to live together," she proposes and you feel your heart shrink, "It doesn't have to be now, but later, but really do it, what do you think?"
You don't hear anything again for a few seconds, wanting to hear Aemond's answer while your heart beats hard against your chest.
"Alys–
"Please, baby. I want to live with you. I want to do many things with you."
And in that moment you know it's enough as you hear them start kissing and you finally, carefully, close the door and lie back down on your bed, holding back the tears.
Not wanting to hear anything promising out there, you put on your headphones and try to sleep with this ugly pain in your chest.
You shouldn't have listened to that conversation between the two of them, but you couldn't help it. But after listening to them, staring for a few moments at the ceiling of your room, broken, you make the decision you had thought about before but were not sure about.
And that is that you will fulfill Alys' wish... you are going to look for a job and you are going to ask for a doorm in the residence.
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The following days after hearing Aemond's conversation with his girlfriend, continue the same.
Aemond still doesn't show up much at the apartment, the two of you don't talk much, he is always with Alys and you start looking for jobs near the university without success.
When you don't find anything, the days of searching get longer because the ones that are available are far away from your area and others don't apply for you because they ask for experience.
And at the same time you try not to let everything you heard that night affect you by keeping busy with college.
You also try not to let it affect you that Aemond said he wanted to make things right between you but he still doesn't see you and doesn't show up because he's with Alys.
You really don't understand.
That's why you continue to look for a job as it hurts you that you are practically living alone in a big apartment like this when before it wasn't like this and you enjoyed Aemond's company.
Now it's just you and Vhagar.
Then one afternoon when you come home from school and finish feeding Vhagar and start preparing food for yourself, suddenly the door opens and Aemond enters with a soft look, instantly observing you.
"Hello, pretty one."
You try not to look surprised and confused by his arrival, so you just don't let his nickname affect you and smile a little, just a little, in his direction.
"Hi."
He smiles a little more at you as his gaze turns to Vhagar who runs excitedly to greet him.
"Hello to you too my little one," he says tenderly and you see how he takes her in his arms, "I missed you."
You look away from him to continue cooking, not wanting to talk and preferring to ignore him in the same way he seems to ignore you by not showing up or sleeping here anymore, leaving you and Vhagar alone.
You want to know why he has suddenly appeared, but you control yourself from asking. Just as you tell yourself that you don't plan to say anything to him about moving into the dorm until you secure a job.
"What are you cooking?"
You hear him ask you as he approaches you.
"Fillet," you reply briefly.
"Do you mind if I ask you to cook one for me?" He asks with some care.
"No," you answer simply.
You really don't want to be rude to him, after all, this is your agreement, so you cook a fillet for him, waiting to serve everything.
"Do you have something to do today?"
He asks you suddenly and you continue cooking, without looking at him.
"Homework," you answer, "Why?"
"Ah... some classmates are coming to prepare an presentation we have tomorrow," he lets you know and you finally turn to look at him, "I hope you don't mind."
"No, it's fine," you assure him, turning your back on him again, "I'll be in my room, you know."
"Of course."
Quiet.
You continue cooking and he seems to be waiting for his food, so you don't say anything, mostly because you don't have anything to say.
You feel his gaze on you at almost all times, which you deliberately ignore, trying not to make a big deal of it.
When you start serving and finally turn your face to him to place the plates and also the glasses, feeling more firmly his gaze on you.
"Y/N...
And as soon as he says your name you knew he wasn't watching you silently for nothing, but because he was fighting himself to talk to you about something that had him in doubt.
"I know I haven't been around much..." he starts to say and you avoid letting out a sigh of irritation, "And I also know that I've left you alone with Vhagar—
"Yes, I know," you interrupt him in a nonchalant tone, "And that's okay, you have things to do and honestly so do I, believe it or not," you say quickly and then open the refrigerator, "Do you want soda or juice?"
Your clear disinterest for not wanting to talk about it makes Aemond stop talking and watch you in silence, feeling a little guilty for your attitude.
But you continue to watch him expectantly for an answer and he gives it to you after a few seconds of silence.
"Soda."
You nod and start filling the glasses. And at that, Aemond doesn't insist on the matter and simply remains silent, waiting for you to start eating together.
But he can't be like this anymore. He really wants to make things right and that's why he mentions the next:
"Don't think I forgot your birthday."
He says in an attempt to finally calm the tension between the two of you as you turn and hand him the glass and then take a seat in front of him.
"You don't?" you say almost sarcastically, almost.
"Of course not," she assures you, "It's this Friday. Aren't you excited?"
"Not really," you say honestly, "I have a project due that friday that has been causing me a lot of stress. I don't want to get a grade that isn't worth all the effort."
"Oh come on, you always get the best grades," he says with a small smile, "Don't worry, you'll see, everything will be fine."
And the next thing he does is to place his hand on top of yours to give it a gentle squeeze as he always used to do before in situations like these, just like you do with him.
At this, you try not to fall for him and his gestures, so you just nod thanking him with your eyes for his support and start eating, just like him.
"And what are your plans? Tell me," he asks you interested.
"Mmm..." You grimace, "In the morning I don't have much planned, just to talk to my parents," you confess, "After class my friends said they wanted to take me to a restaurant and at night to go out partying but... I'm still not sure about that."
"About what?"
"The party."
He takes a sip of his soda and looks at you confidently.
"Let's go."
"Where to?"
"The party."
"You want to go?" you frown.
"Of course I do," he says with a smile, "I want to celebrate and have fun with you on your birthday."
You raise your eyebrows expectantly at him.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, come on, I'll take you," he says more confidently than before, "In fact, since you won't be doing much in the morning, I could buy a cake for both of us, give you your present and I don't know, go out or watch a movie," he proposes, "Just me and you. Then I'll see you in the night and we'll go out and party."
So, for all that confidence in talking, even with that determination and that excitement in talking about making plans together on your birthday... you shouldn't but again you feel that hope come back to you.
That same spark and hope when he told you about the ball and in the end he did the complete opposite of what he promised you.
But this time... they are both talking about your birthday. You know and you know that he knows you're not just talking about anything.
That's why you stop feeling that little bitterness and forget about the conversation you overheard, you also stop considering going to live in the dorm because he just gives you hope.
"What do you say? Do you like the plan?" he observes you with a little excited smile.
And without being able to help it, you also smile softly in his direction, feeling how that emptiness in your chest fills up, leaving you feeling alone and ignored.
So you nod your head, avoiding showing too much of your happiness and illusion.
"Perfect."
And after you both finish eating, before his classmates arrive, you both make yourselves comfortable on the couches and talk about almost everything while Vhagar keeps you company.
And because of this, you feel more of that hope, that companionship that you had needed so much from him and finally everything is okay.
Everything feels okay.
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All the following days, both Aemond and you go back to the old routine where you don't see each other as much and don't talk much.
But at least there is that feeling that between you everything is already fine and there are plans in place for the weekend that you couldn't be more excited and anxious about.
You've already planned everything with your friends as well, so it's sure to be a perfect day.
Until finally friday arrives and you expect to wake up to Aemond making a big fuss with that happy birthday children's song.
However, it doesn't.
You wake up to a chill in your room and also in the whole apartment when you realize that Aemond is not here. You check to see if he has left you a note or a text but nothing.
Instantly you think to yourself that he must be getting that cake he promised you, so you take a shower and get ready for the day.
Then you get congratulations from your friends and other family members. You even talk to your parents who are in your little town, Stone Hedge, in the Riverlands, working hard to support your studies.
And then when you finish getting ready, Aemond still doesn't show up, so you call him but he doesn't answer, you also send him messages but nothing.
[You]: I'll be waiting for you until 12PM. I have my class at 1PM.
And you send the message, wishing and hoping he'll be here soon.
Until the hours go by, he still doesn't answer, doesn't even return your calls, doesn't tell you anything and there definitely comes a time when you can't wait for him anymore.
And you control yourself. You don't want to think anything bad. You tell yourself that maybe something important came up at school.
So you stay positive, tell yourself that he will explain when you see him tonight, and leave the apartment to go to the university.
The moment you walk into your classroom, your friends greet you with big hugs, flowers and helium balloons wishing you happy birthday, which definitely lifts your mood.
And even more so when you turn in the most stressful project you've done so far in your entire career and with all the happiness and excitement in the world you see how you get graded with an A+.
And your friends are quick to say that it's all the more reason to celebrate tonight.
When the class is over, along with Aileen, Sara, Ryan and Ryan's friend James, you head to the restaurant they told you they wanted to take you to.
There they all order a bottle of wine and toast to your birthday and also to their good grades in this final project they handed in. Even the restaurant's employees bring you a small cake and together they sing happy birthday to you, feeling very nice.
Although unconsciously, you keep thinking about Aemond.
From time to time you check your phone to see if there are any answers from him yet, but nothing. So you really try not to think about him too much and fortunately, with the help of your friends, you succeed.
Until it starts to get dark and everyone says they should get ready to go to one of the many fraternity parties.
Ryan takes you with James to your house and expecting to see Aemond at the apartment, you arrive and no one is there except Vhagar.
You let out a long breath and call him one more time but nothing, so not to be late you get ready for the party.
You're hopeful that Aemond will eventually arrive, but even when you finish getting ready, nothing. And you know he won't show up or he would have already.
But there is still a little hope.
You think, confident and positive, because it is your birthday.
You ask Sara to pick you up and soon you are both arriving at the party where you meet your other friends who have also brought friends.
"What about your best friend, is he coming?"
Aileen asks you over the music and you, still wanting to feel confident, nod.
"Yeah, he might be a little late."
She nods and takes you to the kitchen to play with the other party games before everything here becomes a mess with so many people and louder music.
And you get distracted for a moment as you start to play and have some fun with the games.
You realize that you're actually having a great time despite Aemond's absence, but you still want to see him since it's your birthday.
That's why after a few hours have passed, the party is getting more crowded and everyone is starting to drink more, you check your phone and there's still nothing from him.
You turn away from everyone for a moment to call him but he doesn't answer. You look at the time and realize that it will be eleven o'clock at night and feeling a little worried now, you send him more messages.
[You]: where are you?
[You]: i have been trying to talk to you all day.
[You]: will you at least come to the party?
Nothing.
You let out a long, disappointed breath, yet you tell yourself that he couldn't have forgotten about your birthday, he just didn't.
He made the plans, he promised you a fun day, he said you two would be together.
But then... where is he?
As you walk back to the house, across the entire backyard, you finally feel your phone vibrate several times and you stop to turn the screen back on again, hopeful.
However... you wish you had not.
[aem❣]: sorry for not responding, I was busy all day with alys and we just finished having dinner with her parents.
[aem❣]: party?
And that's all he tells you.
So surprised and incredulous, somehow already expecting it since he didn't show up in the morning you think it can't be.
You can't really believe it and you wish you were so wrong but... it's the truth.
He forgot your birthday.
Your best friend really has forgotten your fucking birthday.
He doesn't tell you anymore, he doesn't say happy birthday, he doesn't apologize for his absence on your birthday, he just doesn't tell you anything.
He just asks you that, with that question being reason enough to give you to understand that he has forgotten the whole plan and your birthday.
And you don't cry.
You really don't want to cry. He doesn't deserve it.
So you avoid breaking down at that moment and just put your phone on silent to put it in your little bag, holding back the tears and enduring this huge sharp pain in your chest.
When that's when you decide you've had enough.
It's still eleven o'clock, you have one more hour to enjoy your birthday, then you'll have fun for the rest of the party and tomorrow you'll have time to feel bad about what your so-called best friend has done to you.
But this is not going to ruin what's left of your birthday.
So you suppress everything, mentally prepare yourself and go back to the party more confident and determined than ever to have fun with your friends who are here.
And that's what you do.
But after this, enough will definitely be enough.
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enviedear · 5 months
Text
jackie and wilson — billy bonney
⤷ modern!billy au
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tw— somehow this is 4.6k words. mentions of food and eating, talk of religion and bible verses, (i'm southern and was forced to go to church every sunday it reflects in the writing) smutty themes so, minors dni, 18+ only, kissing, fondling, skinny dipping, (they're in their undies) so horrifically fluffy
i can already tell this is going to become an ongoing series, so be sure to comment and lmk if you want more. also, this is influenced by my daily mantra
request
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the summer heat feels like it's baking you as you traverse through the long grass of your farmland. birds call and screech in the trees lining the woods beside you. if you weren't so scared of walking the shortcut in the woods alone, your risk of sun poisoning may seem less apparent.
you grip the wicker basket in your hands tighter, eyes squinting to look for the lean farmhand-for-hire. in years past, you've been keen to take his place whenever your grandparents needed someone for an oddball job. working long hours with the older couple up until you graduated from the county high school. as the seasons changed, and you got older and busier, so did your grandparents. their work on their farm proved in dire need of help.
a simple fix—you. this summer, free from university and your internship, your parents elected you to spend the free time of your summer working on your loving grandparents' farm.
in the early days of the warm season, you managed pretty well on your own. you tended the vegetables and the fruits, took care of the chickens and sheep, and sowed the large fields with grain until sunset.
everything changed after an unfortunate incident with your grandpa's gargantuan baler. luckily, you were fine, but your pa's expensive baler was wrecked all to hell.
so here you were, now relegated to some pseudo farmer's daughter role, hand-delivering water and a full lunch to none other than billy bonney.
your grandparents say billy's nice enough, mannerly yet hushed. but you know there's more to it. at least if small town gossip is anything to believe, and here, it usually is.
everyone knows the crowd billy runs around with. he's also got a vile gang of friends. angry men with sly smirks who spend most of their free time loitering the town's local bar or gambling away their lives at lawrence murphy's corral. the type of men to carry a weapon at all times without any license, and quick to threaten to shoot with even the most minor infraction.
the knowledge was enough to have you hiding away from him every time your grandparents hired him for a job.
everytime that is, until now.
you knew with the way your pa sternly stared into your eyes that a complaint wouldn't be warranted. as your grandma instructed you to bring the farmhand some, "hearty lunch for his hard work," you came to terms with the fact that you had no right to argue.
not when you owe the old man a baler.
you finally reach the young man, covered in grime and leaning against his parked pickup, out of breath and sweltering. you try not to stare at the baler attached to the tractor, about twenty feet from his parked vehicle, your embarrassment over wrecking the last one still ever present.
his truck has its' doors wide open, blaring music through blown speakers. you try to avoid making direct eye contact with him, voice raised slightly to be heard over the folk song playing, "here. figure you're hungry."
lifting the tea towel from the top of the basket, you set it on his open truck bed. despite not looking up, you can see him hurry to turn his music down before sauntering over to you from the side of your gaze.
"thank you," his voice surprises you. it's gruff but gentle. "you kin to the old couple?"
you're not sure why, but you take offense to his question. sure you've ignored him, but you know that he knows who you are. you meet his stare, your tone dry in response, "i am."
he inclines his head toward the basket, ignoring your reply with a hum, "what'd ya' bring me, hon?"
your eyes roll unabashed at his endearment, "my grandma threw a bit of everything in there. i know there's some jambalaya— the last bit of our mud cake too."
"you're spoiling me, you tell her i said thank you," he pauses, peering down at you, "are you going to be bringin' me my lunch everyday?"
his question is innocuous but something in the way he says it makes your stomach drop. you shrug, "sure, i guess."
"i'd like that." he slips the words out before his hands dive into the basket, fishing out one of the water bottles.
you nod, confused by him, "yeah well, be careful. i guess i'll see you tomorrow."
at that you turn from him, walking your trail again to get back to the house. you fight the urge to look over your shoulder and catch a glimpse of him. some proof he's really there, that the interaction actually happened.
because despite the second-hand opinion you've held on him, billy bonney was unexpected. annoyingly so.
as you finish up your day, you can't help but think about the encounter with the dark-haired farmhand. you've known of him for years, sure, but you never expected much of him.
just another one of jesse evans’ rowdy boys.
shocking, that billy would be so different. or maybe, just better at hiding his depravity. you think back to his voice, rough around the edges, yet littered with tenderness. it’s not until you think back to his gentle smile that you realize, there’s a kindness that exudes from him, and it’s got you hook, line, and sinker.
you wonder if he's always been this way? you like to think he has. even if it is only a platitude for your undeniable crush.
in the following days, you continue to bring the farmhand his lunch, stopping to talk to him longer each noon. he's easy to talk to, apt to ask you about your day, or if you need anything. you can't exactly explain why, but you're drawn to him.
it's extra muggy as you pack up his lunch and make your way to him, breaking from his time on the baler to lay in the bed of his truck.
he doesn't take notice of you until your basket finds home right beside him, blasted speakers blaring yet another folk tune.
"hey there," he greets you with a grin, his white work shirt wrought with soil, the short sleeves haphazardly rolled, "you know i'm starting t'get used to this."
you smile back, feeling a warm sensation spreading through your body, "i'm sure you are."
billy takes a look in the lunch basket, grabbing out some water first to clear the dirt on his hands, "you wanna hang around for a bit?"
you hesitate for a moment, not sure if you should. not only do you have a long list of chores, you also still find a bit of nervousness around the young man.
but billy's been nice enough, and if he's anything like his friends you assume he would have shown it by now, "i guess i have some time."
billy nods, handing you a water and patting the free space beside him. you hop up, close enough that his side brushes yours.
the sensation sends shivers down your spine as you try to focus on conversation, pulling for anything you can say. for a moment, neither of you speaks, the only sound is coming from the music blasting from his speakers. an old rock song today, different. your eyes try to look anywhere but at him, taking in the vast expanse of farmland around you.
"must be nice to have all this land to yourself," billy says, breaking the silence.
you nod, grateful for his compliment, "it is. my grandparents have worked hard to keep it running."
"i can tell," billy says, taking a swig from his water bottle, "they got a good thing goin' here."
you agree, taking a sip from your own bottle. the sun beats down on your skin, making you feel sweaty and sticky. billy, on the other hand, seems used to it. he looks up at the sky, squinting against the sunlight.
"you know, i was thinking," billy says, steady voice breaking the silence again, "what would you say if i took you out sometime?"
your heart skips a beat, your mind going into overdrive. you never expected billy to ask you out, even more so that you’d be so willing to entertain the idea.
you hesitate for a moment before answering, "i don't know. i mean, i barely know you."
this is a half truth, you know him. only this version though, the sweet billy bonney who works on your family farm and takes his lunch breaks with you. you don't have any idea who he is outside of these moments.
at least not first hand. just second hand gossip. you wouldn’t even know which stories are real or fake. you’re not sure if he’s a convincing actor or genuine soul. there are rumors he shot a man back in his hometown. that he launders money with jesse evans’ gang. that he’s a cheat from a rodeo front, taking ignorant peoples’ bet money.
billy hums, breaking your anxious thoughts, "what'd you wanna know, hon? i'm an open book."
you chew on your lip, thinking about it. it could be a smart move, you're curious about him and need to know more. you need to know what about him is fact or fiction. but at the same time, you're afraid of what the truth may be, "i don't know," you say finally. "i mean, work, for example. is this all you do?"
billy cracks a smile, "no, hon’. this s’more of a side job.” he sighs, “i was a pickup for jesse evans' rodeo for a while, but that new fella' that just came to town—mr. tunstill, he's got me a better gig."
you furrow your brows, already on edge by the mention of his previous employer, "and what exactly is that?"
he chuckles a bit, "he's got me as a producer, but i do show on the weekends."
"so what? you're a full-fledged rodeo man? with bulls and all?" you'd always know of jesse's grimy ‘rodeo’, really just used as a gambling den and club, but you're intrigued by the idea of billy actually doing it. especially working with tunstill, a sincerely kind wealthy man from overseas. it must be a stark contrast to jesse’s.
"i guess. it's a good time and you can make honest money dependin' on the event," he pauses, "it's not like jesse's, if that's what you're wondering."
you look away from him, "my pa never let me go. when i turned twenty-one i tried to go with a bunch of my girlfriends. he about had a stroke keeping me out the door."
"he's smart, you shouldn't go. those guys are bad news." he's talking quieter now, less sugary and more solemn.
you fight your previous embarrassment, opting to stare straight into his pale blues, "you hang around those guys."
your sentiment is clear and billy goes hush for a long few seconds before speaking, eyes closed, "do not carouse with drunkards or feast with gluttons, for they are on their way to poverty, and too much sleep clothes them in rags."
you know those words, heard primarily while crammed in a pew, "you're a religious man?" you don't mean to, but your question comes out a bit unconvinced.
he opens his eyes back up, a spark of something you can't place within them, "no, not really. jus' something mr. tunstill keeps repeating to me. i didn't really pay it any mind till i met you."
you try to ignore the way his hand inches closer to your own, "why's that?"
"not sure. just seems easier to abide by now. i'd hate to end up like them. i know you don't like 'em." his voice is soft, but the hand that takes hold of yours isn't.
you look down at your feebly interlocked hands, hesitating, and then taking his hand with the same conviction, "no, i don't," a breath, "but i like you."
billy's face lights up at your words, and he leans in closer to you. you can feel his breath on your face, and your heart races with excitement and anticipation. you’ve never felt to entrapped in a man before, so ready to dive in head first.
without thinking, you reach out to touch his sun kissed cheek, and he leans into your hand. your fingers trace a path down his cheek, and then down to his lips. you have an overwhelming urge to kiss him, and you're surprised when he pulls back.
"i'm sorry, i shouldn't have done that." you say, feeling embarrassed.
"no, it's not that. it's just… i want to take you out on a real date. something proper." his cheeks have grown far more pink, only this time it's not the sun's doing.
you consider his words for a moment, before nodding, "that sounds real nice, billy."
he grins, and you feel a flutter in your chest. how he managed to make you feel this way so soon, you're not sure.
"you free this friday?" he asks, amusement in his tone.
you release his hand, grabbing for your phone, "should be, my boss loves me," a stupid joke, but you hand the touchscreen to him, "put your number in, so we can plan a time."
you climb down from the bed of the truck, peering up at the farmhand as he adds his number to your phone. when he's done he hands you back the phone, the sun casting an auburn glow to his hair.
you look up at him, and he smiles down at you, "don't be a stranger." he jokes.
you give him a laugh, "wouldn’t dream of it," you add, "i'll see you friday— i'm going into town with my grandma tomorrow. i'm sure it'll last all day."
billy hums, "till' friday, honey."
you turn and head back to the house, smiling to yourself, feeling happy and alive in a way that you haven't felt in a long time.
the next day, thursday, you wake up early to accompany your grandma into town. the older woman drags you up and down shopping centre's, moaning on and on about how cheaply things are made now.
you make it through the first ten stores without your smile cracking, you think it must be a finely tuned talent.
it's not until well after lunch the woman decides to slow down, stopping at a local diner to eat. she does most of the talking, gossiping about everyone she's run into today.
you love your grandma and you enjoy your time with her, but you're too focused on tomorrow to really be good company.
if she notices your change in behavior though, she doesn't comment. highly unlike her.
by the time the sky is more dark than light, you two head home. she plays old country music the whole ride, teeny-bopper songs that remind you how young she used to be.
and when you finally lay your head down to rest, you don't try to fight off the supercut in your mind of your sweet farmhand.
the next day, fateful friday, arrives with a mix of nerves and excitement. you find yourself checking the clock more often than usual, the anticipation building as the day progresses. your mind drifts to the possible plans for the evening, wondering where billy might take you on this 'proper date.'
a bit after the sun hits noon, you finish up your chores on the farm, your thoughts consumed by your impending evening. you decide to freshen up and put on something nice, an easy way to get your mind together.
your closet here is less thorough than the one at home, but the innocent tops and bottoms of your late teens still fit. you look less severe than you'd normally for a date. forgone are the dark, tight, and sultry clothes of your college town, leaving you looking ever so sweet.
the early afternoon arrives, and you hear the distant rumble of his pickup as it approaches. you feel alight with a muddled mess of nerves as you make your way out of the house to meet him.
you look over your shoulder when you crack the door open. making sure you haven't awoken your sleeping grandparents, who rarely miss their three o'clock naps.
the summer sun is high in the sky, casting a bright glow over the landscape. billy's leaned up against his truck, staring expectantly at your front porch— staring at you, you realize.
as you walk to him, you can't help but notice the effort he put into dressing up. his filthy work shirt is replaced with a clean, green linen button-down, and there's a hint of ambery cologne in the air. he offers you a genuine smile, eyes lighting up as he takes in your appearance.
"hey there, beautiful." he greets you, a hand coming to rest on your shoulder blade, comforting.
"hi," you reply, returning his saccharine smile. "you clean up nice."
he chuckles, a bit bashful, "well, i figured it's a special occasion."
you let him lead you to the passenger side, where he opens the rusty pickup's door for you, you fight back your grin when he follows in after.
as you drive into town, the atmosphere is a blend of excitement and a tinge of nervousness. billy takes you to a quaint little restaurant a bit outside of town. it's casual but with dim lights and a cozy ambiance. certainly it's the most romantic restaurant around without heading an hour out into the city. the two of you share stories and laughs, finding little to no lull in conversation.
"you want any dessert?" you ask, fiddling a loose thread at the hem of your blouse.
billy shrugs, "i've never said no to some banana puddin'. what'd you say?"
you giggle, nodding in agreement. you feel high off of his company. you're giddy and doing a horrible job at hiding it, but he doesn't seem to mind. instead, he relegates to matching your optimism, only validating every enamored thought of him that rings in your mind.
the warm evening air swirls around you as the two of you exit the restaurant. billy offers his hand, and you gladly intertwine your fingers as you stroll down the sidewalk. the town square is alive with the soft glow of streetlights.
as you walk, the conversation continues, easy and simple. billy talks animatedly about his past few weekends at the rodeo and shares some amusing anecdotes about the other rider’s on the circuit. you, in turn, finally divulge your baler incident, much to his chagrin.
the final hours of afternoon are slowly rolling in, and soon you find yourselves back at his pickup truck. you assume he'll drive you home, but to your surprise, he takes a different route, heading towards the backroads right beside your land. you raise an eyebrow, curious about this unexpected detour.
"where are we going?" you inquire, a playful smile dancing on your lips.
billy smirks but doesn't say anything, keeping the destination a secret. the road is winding and narrow— made of dirt and full of large potholes. you know your little front-wheel drive could never make it. eventually, he slows the car off the path, onto the side of the road.
there's an apparent trail just to the right of you, and when billy opens the door for you, he immediately ushers you toward it, "don't worry, we won't go too far in."
you'd be lying if you said the setting sun wasn't adding a level of unease to the idea of entering the woods, but when you look at billy, eyes bright and smile true, you throw aside your worries.
the young man is true to his word. the trek into the woods only lasts a few minutes before you see it. an azure expanse of water— a secluded lake surrounded by towering oak trees and a backdrop of rolling hills.
you turn back to look at him, shocked, "how did you find this?"
"jus’ by chance a few years ago. i figured you'd been out here before, living so close," he remarks, "but i like that i got to show it to you." billy admits, a devoted glint in his eyes.
as you stand there, gazing at the serene lake, you feel a sense of wonder and gratitude for this unexpected and beautiful surprise. you can't remember the last time the familiar landscape of home felt so awing. billy seems to be taking in your reaction, a quiet satisfaction evident on his face.
"it's breathtaking." you finally say, your voice hushed in appreciation.
billy grins, seemingly pleased with your reaction, "so are you."
you turn back to the water to hide your flustered expression.
you watch him find a comfortable spot by the water's edge, sitting on a large flat rock. you follow suit, letting your head nestle into his chest. the sounds of nature surround you—the rustling leaves, the gentle lapping of the water, and the distant calls of birds. it's a stark contrast to the hustle and bustle of the town and the farm.
you look up at him as inconspicuously as possible, eager to commit his image to memory. his umber hair curls at the nape of his neck, slender nose burnt from the sun, his freckles apparent, and his ever-inspired blue eyes reflecting the water ahead.
you look away as your heartbeat quickens, afraid that if you peer up any longer he'll be able to hear the rhythm.
"can you swim?" you ask, toes dipping into the waters below.
billy's gaze softens, the radiant hues of his eyes flickering with warmth as he looks down at you. his calloused hand idly tracing circles on your back, comforting, "yeah, i can swim. why? you wanna go for a dip?" he replies, a playful glint dancing across his face.
enthusiastically, you nod, "i'd love to. it's been ages since i've been swimming in a place like this."
with a charismatic grin, billy stands up, extending a hand to help you rise. he doesn't hesitate to unbutton his shirt and free himself from his pants— clothed only in his black boxers.
you try to be as carefree as him, but you're slower to shed your attire. by the time you do, he's already shoulder deep in the water.
you make your way to the water's edge, stepping in. the cool embrace of the lake greets your skin as you wade in. the sun now casts a dim golden glow on the rippling surface.
as you move deeper into the water, you feel a sense of liberty wash over you. you let out a contented sigh, feeling weightless and unburdened. billy is a few feet away from you, beckoning you to come closer with a smile on his face. you oblige, splashing water playfully in your wake.
as you approach him, he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you close. you can feel the heat emanating from his body, warming you up in the cool water. your bare skin presses against his, and you can feel a hint of longing course through your veins.
"you're s'beautiful," he whispers, his breath hot against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "prettiest girl i've ever seen."
you chuckle slightly, looking beside him to the water, "you're just blowing smoke up my ass."
his hand finds your cheek, gently beckoning you to face him fully, "why would i ever do that?" he hums, "i only say things i mean, honey."
you blink at him, too far gone to stop your gaping, "you're a charmer, billy bonney. do you hear that a lot?"
he laughs, both hands now coming to rest at your hips, forcing you to wrap your legs around his, "i only need to hear it from you."
he says it so carelessly, without a thought. he's telling the truth, you surmise.
"why? you like me or something?" the words come out genuine, despite your teasing intent.
billy's eyes trail down to your lips, "i like you a whole lot, honey," you feel his grip grow steadier, holding you closer to him. he looks back up at you, gaze tempting, "i like you s'much i worked an extra four days on your farm jus’ to see you."
the revelation hangs in the air, and you find yourself caught in a suspended moment, the water lapping gently around you. billy's admission resonates, sinking deep into the newfound connection you've shared over these past days. his stare, earnest and reserved, locks with yours, and you can't help but feel a swirl of emotions.
a smile plays on your lips, a mixture of surprise and awe, "that's dedication." you reply, a playful sparkle in your eyes.
billy grins, his hands still securely holding you. "only for you, honey. i'm nothin' if not devoted."
you gleam at his words, intrinsically leaning closer to him. you're so close to letting your lips brush his before you stop, eager to see the weight of his affection once more, "you can kiss me now, if that's what you're waiting for."
with that, he presses his lips to yours, kissing you with a hunger that leaves you breathless. you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you, savoring the taste of him on your tongue.
billy breaks the kiss, his lips trailing down your neck and collarbone, leaving a trail of kisses and nips along the way. you tilt your head back, giving him better access to your skin, letting out a soft sigh as he finds the sensitive spot on your neck.
"you're gonna be the death o'me." he whispers against your skin, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine.
your fingers tangle in his hair as he continues his assault on your neck, alternating between gentle kisses and nibbles. you can feel the heat building between your bodies, the water around you providing a cooling effect to your heated embrace.
billy's hands slip down to cup your ass, pulling you closer to him so that there's barely any space between you. he grinds his hips against yours, earning a moan from deep in your throat. you can feel his hardness pressing against you through the thin fabric of his boxers.
your eyes flutter open and you lock gazes with him, the intensity of his gaze mesmerizing. you tilt your head back down, allowing him to steal another kiss. his tongue teases yours. his hands roam up and down your body, exploring every inch of you he can with a passionate fervor.
you can feel yourself being taken into the depths of him until you can barely think or breathe. it's only when he finally pulls away, that you realize the afternoon has fully evolved into the beginnings of nighttime. the sky above you is almost entirely dark, littered with stars.
somehow, you still don’t think the kiss was long enough.
billy smiles at you, brushing his hair away from his eyes. you can't help but smile back, feeling content and happy.
"i think i like you too much." he murmurs, his warm breath caressing your skin. you laugh softly, feeling the same way.
a hum of agreement, "me too." you whisper back, pulling him into a tight hug. you stay like that for a while, enjoying the warmth and comfort of each other's embrace.
as the night deepens, you and billy finally decide to make your way back to the truck. billy helps you out of the water, his touch lingering as you both reluctantly part from the tranquil lake. the air is filled with the sounds of nocturnal creatures, their symphony accompanying your footsteps as you follow the narrow trail back to the pickup truck.
the woods, now cloaked in darkness, take longer to exit. the moonlight filters through the dense canopy of leaves, casting shadows on the forest floor.
once back at the truck, you find yourself wrapped in a cozy blanket billy had thoughtfully brought along. the drive home is filled with a comfortable silence, the events of the evening settling into a cherished memory. the road is dimly lit by the truck's headlights, and the night sky is a canvas of stars above.
as you approach the farmhouse, the thrill of the night lingers between you and billy. he parks the truck, and the engine falls silent. the two of you sit in the quiet for a moment, savoring the experience.
"thank you for tonight, you were real sweet." you say, breaking the silence.
billy turns to you, a peaceful smile playing on his lips. "i should be thanking you, for goin’ out with me. so thank you, darling. i think you're real sweet too."
"i'm real glad we met." you add.
he reaches over, his hand finding yours, fingers intertwining in a comfortable gesture. "me too," he replies, his gaze holding yours.
with a reluctant smile, you open the truck door, preparing to step out. billy, however, stops you with a gentle tug on your hand.
"before you go," he starts, a hint of uncertainty in his eyes, "i was wonderin' if you'd like to do this again sometime. maybe i could take you down to the rodeo?"
the question catches you off guard, but the sincerity in his expression is undeniable. you feel a warmth spread through your chest, and you nod, "i'd like that, billy."
he grins, the moonlight casting a soft glow on his features. "good. it's a date then." you agree, leaning up and placing a peck on his pink lips before stepping out of the truck.
it's not until you're safely inside that he drives away into the night, the sound of the engine fading into the distance.
even as you slip into bed, the memories of the night play in your mind like a vivid dream. you drift into sleep with thoughts of the lake, the evening kisses, and the now waivered apprehension of the farmhand.
you've found yourself ensnared with billy bonney.
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