#who would’ve thought FLIRTING IN COURT could possibly be a thing?! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chusui00 · 3 years

Text

Have A Little Faith

Word Count: 1,783

Summary: You are at Lady Danbury’s evening ball, which is the perfect opportunity to find a potential suitor so that you can finally settle down. But of course, it’s not as easy as it sounds. You’ve found yourself standing far away from everyone else, and just when you think tonight will be fruitless, your childhood friend, Anthony Bridgerton, changes all of the thoughts inside your head.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Tonight was the night where I needed to do a little flirting with men I have never personally met, and hopefully, I’ll impress them with my charms. That’s if they would gauge their attention onto me instead of whatever they wanted to boast about.

Mama practically talked my ear off when we were upon arriving Lady Danbury’s estate, but Richard distracted her with the topic of his new fiancée like the eldest brother he is. I still hadn’t thanked him for his act of bravery, although, that could wait for when we were in the carriage.

In my mind, I ventured on about whether or not he would be at the ball. The last time we’ve met was nearly three days ago when our families agreed to have a picnic in celebration of a newborn baby coming into the world. As much as I enjoyed engaging in social encounters, I had been more comfortable with reading alone in my room.

But alas, he persuaded me to join everyone outside where we could eat and share jokes under the warm sun together. Since then, I couldn’t stop thinking about the way his shoulder brushed against mine more than enough times to call it accidental.

The man even offered to feed me a sandwich and delectable piece of scone he had already bitten into. Luckily for the two of us, our families were too immersed with doting over the aforementioned newborn baby to realize what we were doing.

Viscount Bridgerton, informally known as Anthony or Bridgerton by both family and close friends. I was not exempt from the latter formalities, although, I’ve always wondered what my life would be like if I had not crossed paths with him.

He is everything and more when Lady Whistledown wrote about him in her society’s paper last Tuesday. And to be quite frank, he needed to work for what he wanted rather than let it fall into his lap.

It seemed unfathomable the way he charmed his way through women of the ton while simultaneously rejecting them. I found it entertaining to see the crestfallen faces of girls my age, but am I to blame for their naïveté?

Anthony Bridgerton is a Rake through and through, which I can say with the utmost certainty because I am his childhood friend.

Now, don’t get me wrong. He loves his mother and siblings in place of his late father, and he is very passionate in regards of his interests. That includes women who have a pretty face and have given him an unforgettablely good time.

But this did not excuse the trail of broken hearts as well as tearful confessions behind the Viscount. Although a bit discouraging for someone who harbored feelings for the man, I always kept a smile on my face whenever we had a conversation with one another.

Anthony was extremely well-versed in politics, social skills, and the economy. There were times when I tested him on a popular topic in the papers, which as expected, he excelled.

I should not be thinking about the past at this hour. Everyone around me was dancing, drinking their glasses of champagne, and looking for someone to court. Letting out a deep sigh, I brush off a speck of invisible dust from the hem of my dress.

That’s when I see him, politely making his way through the crowd to go to where I am. A silent panic breaks my former calm demeanor, and I quickly stand taller to seem more presentable. It does not go unnoticed in the slightest, thus Anthony chuckles behind a hand then he stands before me in his handsome glory.

“Good evening, Miss Willows. How are you enjoying the ball so far?” There’s a mischievous glint behind those mesmerizing brown eyes, but onlookers would mistake it as a completely different emotion. “Hello, Lord Bridgerton. I’m much comfortable standing on the sidelines rather than dancing the night away. Thank you for asking, my lord.”

He shakes his head with amusement, and he finds my honest reply to be of a different mood compared to the other young women. “Then you shan’t refuse my offer to dance the night away, Miss Willows.” I furrow my brows in confusion and not a moment later, I’m swept onto the dance floor.

I’ve not the chance to process all that has happened, but Anthony keeps me focused on him and only him. He lowers his head to whisper words of encouragement, and I flush like a rose when he sneaks a kiss on the apple of my cheek. It’s too much for me to understand why he chose me instead of any other woman he wanted in the ball room.

“I’m relieved to see that you’re not stepping on my feet, and how beautiful your smile glows, Miss Willows.” I’m temporarily rendered speechless as to why he’s suddenly being quite the gentleman towards me. If it weren’t for the bystanders, he and I would be playfully bantering nonstop about the most random things we could think of.

“Anthony, tell me, what’s gotten into you? I appreciate the change of attitude, but it’s not the Bridgerton I know.” He’s unresponsive for a minute, then two. I can feel his grip on my waist tighten and the subtle action to bring our bodies closer. I’m not sure how I should react, but I needn’t say anything at all when he spins me around.

“My mother wants me to find a young lady to court because she’s tired of me being a bachelor for most of my life.” “Well, I can’t say I’m not surprised because she’s right.” I’m quick to give my reply, and he briefly glares down at me. “Oh, come now, Anthony. Even Lady Whistledown knows about your spectacular reputation and preferences.”

“Yes, but that’s all she knows about me, y/n. I just don’t think I’m capable of settling down with a family of my own in the near future.” The song comes to an end, and we bow before walking together for some refreshments. I say my hellos to several couples, single lords, and some of my friends when we come across them.

“That is a lie because from my knowledge, you’re the spitting image and exact replica of your father, Anthony Bridgerton.” “Y/n, I’m grateful to have met an extraordinary woman like yourself, but sometimes you get on my nerves.” That stabbed me right in the heart. Alright, perhaps I shouldn’t have mentioned his late father, but he didn’t have to be so harsh.

“Look, all I’m saying is that you can marry whoever you want to, but you’d most definitely choose a woman with the same personality as yours.” I watch him take a swig from his wine glass, and then he points it at me. Narrowing my eyes as I brace myself for possible humiliation, he sets down the glass and takes my hand to drag me off to someplace other than where we were now.

I won’t lie when I say that I was nervous yet excited to find out where he was taking me. Benedict, Colin, and Eloise all looked our way then at their mother, and I could tell that they had connected the dots. It was a good thing that Lady Bridgerton found her happy place with alcohol, otherwise she would’ve stopped Anthony in his tracks.

We eventually reach our destination, which so happens to be one of countless rooms that was conveniently far away for anyone to hear. Don’t tell me... “Anthony, what are we doing over here? Shouldn’t we be with all those people, and dancing the night away?”

No answer from my captor. He seemed to be in deep thought, and I scoffed in disbelief. I most certainly did not want to spend the rest of my time on my friend, especially when he wouldn’t tell me why he brought me here. “Look, I came to this ball to find a suitor. If you won’t answer me, then—“

Before I knew it, his lips were on mine. The hand that was once squeezing my waist found its rightful place, and the other gently brushed my hair back. I fluttered my eyes closed, letting myself melt in his embrace as we kissed with a fiery passion I knew that had always been between us.

A few moments later, he pulled away then buried his face into the crook of my neck. I felt him inhale then exhale, as though he was trying to control himself from doing something I hadn’t done before. “I want you, y/n. But only if you’ll allow me to court you. We have gone through thick and thin in our childhood, and I want nothing more to continue for the rest of our lives.”

The Viscount Anthony Bridgerton was asking for my consent to be courted, and I would be delusional to reject his confession. I’ve never seen him so sincere and vulnerable like this before, and it made me giggle. He must’ve thought that I was going to refuse his offer, but I snake my arms around his neck then kiss his soft lips for reassurance.

“I’ve never thought you would ask, Anthony. But this means no more secret meetings, alright? If I hear an inkling about you being where you’ve told me you wouldn’t be at, then I’m ending things. Am I clear, Bridgerton?” He swallows thickly and nods, so I’m rather grateful that my warning has gotten through.

I bring my hands to cup his face, and I now see how much he adores me the way he relaxes against my touch. Unfortunately, we’ve been gone for far too long, but I don’t doubt that he’ll come up with a reasonable excuse to his worrying mama.

Anthony kisses the top of my head before taking my hand and leading me back the way we came. I intertwine our fingers to which he brings up to his lips and kisses my knuckles. “It might be too soon to say this, but I absolutely and undoubtedly love you, y/n Willows. I promise to cherish you for as long as I am going to live.”

It takes a bit for me to absorb the sudden declaration, but I’m not complaining whatsoever. All that mattered was that we shared equal affection for one another, and we were willing to work for a bright, lovely lifestyle ahead of us. “And I wholeheartedly love you, Anthony Bridgerton. You are mine for eternity,”

Some might say that we were too inexperienced when it came to love, but we ignored their opinions. Like my mama used to tell me when I was a child, “Have a little faith.”

#bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #bridgerton imagine #romance

129 notes · View notes

bumblebear30 · 3 years

Text

The heights you take me to.

Rita Calhoun x Casey Novak

Established Calvak

Warnings: Discussion of fears around heights, No smut but allusions to. Language. Casey Novak being so fucking adorable she’ll steal your girl and you’d still thank her.

The heights you take me to.

Not that anyone ever did ask, but if anyone had ever been brazen enough to raise the issue, Rita would categorically deny that she was scared of heights.

And she would win that argument. Even a polygraph test on the subject would be passed with flying colours. She was entirely content on those shallow balconies at the opera, mezzanine floors in apartments in Paris posed no hindrance and, thankfully, even the thought of flying in planes didn’t bother her. So truly heights weren’t the issue.

If you were going to get technical about it, maybe, possibly, perhaps, she had a mild concern – an often valid mild-concern – about falling from unstable platforms. Honestly it just seemed common sense to avoid such scenarios. An intrinsic urge of self-protection that had served her well through life so far. So much so, the issue very rarely came up at all.

And yet, somehow Casey, so typically enthusiastic, utterly wonderfully childlike in her glee and adoration of things somehow put Rita in a situation where she had to confront that maybe she should have voiced her concerns much earlier in their relationship.

It had all come about because Casey had won their most recent head-to-head case and they'd long since set up and agreement that after a case where they been up against each other whoever won got to choose whatever date it was that they went on as soon as they could.

Sometimes it was as mundane as choosing which wine and takeaway combo would go with whatever mindless TV or comfort film they'd watch as they settled back into their domestic selves, or something like Casey making Rita join her on a walk around the park when the seasons were changing so she could point out the beauty of the leaves changing colour or the blossom scattering the footpath. She was always such a romantic; as much in love with the natural world around her as with the woman stood next to her holding her hand. Despite her apparent grumbling Rita actually loved those walks, just getting to have a glimpse of how Casey saw things always made her fall for the redhead even more.

Other times, if she'd won, Rita would go all out spoiling Casey with a quick weekend away, or lavish meal out – not to gloat, never to gloat - but to simply spoil her girl as she deserved to be spoilt.

One time Casey had made Rita go camping... Despite the defence attorney trying her best to cope with it all after several tantrums Casey learnt quickly that camp life did not hold the same joyful relaxation for the brunette as she’d hoped, and had hastily found them a glamping resort nearby to save the long weekend.

But, given the nature of some of the cases, and just how passionately Rita would defend her client and Casey would fight for justice for the victim, sometimes there simply had to be a cooling off phase of a couple of days before either one was quite ready to think about indulging the whims of the winning party.

The longest they'd gone through such a détente had been ten days. It had just clocked over to the eleventh when Rita had woken to the sounds of Casey sniffling, trying to muffle her tears on the couch where she'd been sleeping, self-imposed it had to be said. Wordlessly Rita had left the warmth of their bed and padded across the apartment simply to cuddle up with the redhead: wrapping her arms around her and cradling her head into the crook of her neck. The unspoken love and comfort in the gentle touches, the light peppering of kisses against her hair, had initially just made Casey sob even harder. It was exactly what she'd needed ten days ago but her own smarting pride and anger at the world's injustices had meant she denied herself from seeking out from the one person who could truly console her. Rita had continued to just hold her though and rub her back, letting Casey get it all out without judgement.

Exhausted Casey had eventually fallen asleep, utterly spent after finally letting the emotional dam burst. With great care Rita had slowly manoeuvred them (an impressive feat she was quite proud of really) so that she could lie down on the couch properly with Casey draped comatose over her hip, her face pillowed on Rita's chest. She knew she'd inevitably end up with a drool mark on her satin sleep shirt but making sure Casey was comfortable was far more important - and for the first time in weeks, fell asleep holding her love.

Waking up being held so tenderly by Rita, who had spent the night on the couch with her simply because Casey had needed her, almost made Casey cry again. Although this time because her heart was so full. She'd laid there for a little while completely content to just listen to Rita's soft snores (she only ever did when she slept on her back, Casey always thought they were adorable), until she could resist no longer and started to trail her hand across the top of Rita's shoulder and down her arm a little.

So absorbed in the sensation of the satin under her fingertips, and the incomparable softness of Rita's skin where it had slipped more open on her chest, Casey hadn't realised the gentle snores had stopped till she felt an answering hand come up to run across the back of her head gently. Looking up she had been greeted with such a soft sleepy smile from her girlfriend that Casey just wanted to remember it forever.

The woman was just so perfect for her. Rita would of course argue with a smirk across her face that she was perfect, full stop, but Casey always simply pointed out that she loved Rita’s imperfections just as much anyway. It usually earned her a sweet kiss, or three. But that morning it was Casey who poured as much love and gratefulness into the kisses she pressed to Rita’s cheek before offering to cook one of Rita’s beloved egg-white omelettes.

At this precise moment in time though Rita wished with every fibre of her being that she was back in their apartment, safely sat on the couch which was so securely resting on the ground.

Casey had won their most recent professional battle – Rita was secretly relieved, the guy creeped her out too – and the redhead had promptly declared that she wanted to go to Coney Island. Initially Rita thought she was joking, and had laughed in her face. She thought it went without saying that fair ground rides, fried foods and screaming children were not her idea of a fun evening with her girlfriend. But upon seeing the puppy dog worthy pout that was now gracing said girlfriend’s face she had immediately relented, although only once securing a promise that she could wear Casey’s clothes. She’d be damned if her designer wardrobe was going to be sacrificed along with her professional court win-rate. Chanel and cotton candy did not mix.

So, a few days later she’d subsequently found herself dressed in Casey’s jeans and old softball team hoody. When she’d left the bedroom and when Casey had caught sight of how her ass filled out the jeans let alone seeing Rita with ‘NOVAK’ emblazoned across her shoulders? She was reduced to an absolute puddle of adoration and affection.

Rita had recognised the gleam in her redhead’s eyes and it had buoyed her confidence, loving to have the chance to flirt and spoil Casey to her heart’s content. Although really with the small fortune she’d spent on letting Casey try to win at the coconut shy she would’ve expected a higher quality prize than the little plush tiger the redhead eventually chose. But when Casey had then only slightly bashfully presented it to her, saying that it reminded her of her courtroom persona Rita surprised herself with how much she immediately treasured it, able to picture where it would rest 'on-guard' on top of her jewellery box on the dressing table.

She’d tried to counter how the moment got to her by quipping that she’d need to work harder if Casey saw her as soft and cuddly in court, but Casey had simply rolled her eyes and laughed, quickly tugging Rita towards her to press a quick kiss to the side of her head before leading her further down the boardwalk and onto the next distraction.

Rita had been all too happy to follow. With the quite fierce and regal looking little tiger securely tucked under one arm, and her free hand safely and lovingly entangled with Casey’s whenever possible – only releasing her when Casey wanted to play a stall, or to tsk as she had to untangle Casey’s hair as it got caught on whatever food stuff the redhead kept on encouraging her to indulge in, Rita actually found herself not just tolerating the date, but actively enjoying it.

Cotton candy tasted sweeter when stolen off of her girlfriend’s stick of it. The gleam of Casey’s eyes in all the bright lights made the neon flashing bearable. The screams of hyperactive and wayward children were relegated to the background as Casey laughed and joked with her, muttering sweet nothings into her ear as they watched the sunset, and decidedly naughtier comments when they indulged in ice creams and hotdogs. It had all been going just swimmingly. But then Casey had legitimately squealed and bounced like an excitable golden retriever as she bounded towards the one thing Rita had been determinedly ignoring:

That fucking Ferris wheel.

As she covered her unease – all those different treats suddenly bubbling inside her stomach suddenly felt like such a bad idea – with an attempt at an indulgent smile and joined Casey in the queue, Rita couldn’t help but consider how they’d managed to get so far into their relationship without the discussion about Rita’s concerns – definitely not fear, Rita Calhoun was not scared of anything or anyone thank you very much – but unease, about being up on something so rickety and unstable that just went unnecessarily high and when was it last inspected and god did the damn seats have to sway so and oh shit was it just a bar across their laps that was meant to protect them? She was Rita fucking Calhoun, surely there was something more robust and reliable than a single metal 2x4 to stop her from plunging to her imminent dea-

Oh.

Rita glanced down at where Casey had taken her white knuckled grip from the metal safety bar and now held her hand in both of her own in the warmth of her lap,

“Babe, you should’ve just said if you didn’t want to go on the ride.”

Rita was glad that Casey was so close and so beautiful, it meant she could safely focus on her rather than how the ground, nice safe terra firma, was getting smaller and smaller the higher up they went. She made herself focus on the brightness of her eyes – how they seemed to radiate such love and warmth at her, to take in how there were a few more smile lines at the corner of those eyes than there were when she’d first found herself getting lost in them.

She dropped her gaze (oh god, wrong choice of word she chided herself), to the top of Casey’s cupid bow lip, able to instantly conjure the countless memories of how that lip felt pressed against her own, tracing down her throat and across her body drawing out and bringing her such pleasure. Right now though, the corner of those lips were curling up in one of those soft, ever so slightly teasing smiles that still made Rita’s heart beat faster despite how long they’d been together– although she was glad to notice that actually this time it actually slowed her racing pulse, letting her breathe deeply once more,

“I’m not scared,” she finally huffed out, even though she tried to shuffle closer to Casey in the same moment and instantly froze wide-eyed as the seat seemed to swing at her movement. With a roll of her eyes Casey lifted her arm to come round the back of Rita’s shoulders, encouraging the brunette to cuddle into her side,

“Of course not darling. I never said you were.”

Rita’s sigh this time was in apparent exasperation but truly, she felt inexplicably safer with Casey’s arm wrapped comfortingly around her. She finally felt brave enough to look past Casey’s face, being pressed so closely against the crook of her shoulder she could smell the distinctive scent of Casey’s perfume from where she’d applied it to her pulse point. It made her smile. She’d bought the redhead the bespoke scent for their second Christmas together, and it had been her go-to ever since. With the familiar hints of bergamot, blood orange and nutmeg swirling through her senses and Casey’s low voice pointing out the different sights that surrounded them Rita actually felt herself relax and begin to enjoy the experience.

Until the blasted wheel groaned and ground to a stop just as they came round to the top once again,

“Fuck! What’s happening? Is it breaking? Casey!”

With a gentle chuckle Casey ran her thumb over Rita’s knuckles and the back of her hand to calm her,

“Sorry sweetheart, I didn’t know you were going to be not scared so I slipped the operator an extra $10 so we could stop at the top for a bit.”

Rita turned to face her aghast,

“And why would you do such a thing!?!”

“Maybe because I wanted to look at all the different sights with my girlfriend,” she reached out to tuck some of the fly-aways of Rita’s classic half-up do back behind her ear, “Or maybe I wanted to make out with the love of my life on the Ferris wheel like a horny teenager…”

The wickedly teasing smile and gleam to her eyes elicited the exact knowing and playful laugh from Rita that Casey knew it would,

“Well, when you put it like that darling,” Casey loved how Rita’s usual confidence seemed to exude from her once the redhead had focussed her attention, already leaning forward as Rita beckoned her with her fingers curling under her chin, “C’mere you.”

So maybe Ferris wheels weren’t so bad after all.

In fact, sharing such sweet kisses that tasted like candy as the fair lights flashed, oblivious in their own world as children screamed and parents yelled all around them, meant Rita thought she could just about say she was a fan of the mechanical monstrosity.

Just.

#Rita Calhoun #Casey Novak #Rita Calhoun X Casey Novak #Calvak #established calvak #fluff #fairground fun #fear of heights #fanfic #my writing #Excuse any inaccuracies to actual Coney Island #I have never been #and live many thousands of miles away #so my bad

42 notes · View notes

spurgie-cousin · 3 years

Text

WHW Royals Edition 👑 Part 1: Anne, Queen of Great Britain

Born: February 6th, 1665 at St James's Palace, Westminster, Middlesex, England Died: August 1st, 1714 (age 49) at Kensington Palace, Middlesex Reign: March 8th, 1702 - August 1st, 1714

I thought I’d give you guys a little intro to Anne, Queen of Great Britain as a start for my series on weirdo royals. I got big into her after seeing the Yorgos Lanthimos film The Favourite (can’t recommend enough) and that resulted in endless hours of internet wormholes about her bizarre and interesting life. I’ve read about a lot of fucked up royals in my life (truly there’s many) but it was only when I was reading about Anne that I kind of had an ‘a-ha’ moment about how really drastically the monarchial system can fuck a person up.

Queen Anne fits this bill for me for a lot of reason; she was a surprise Queen who was woefully underprepared for ruling, which led to people pushing their political agendas on her under the guise of genuine affection. It’s hard to know if the relationships that define her legacy and life in popular culture were genuine, or if they would’ve existed at all had she not been a royal. Her legacy is muddied by the traditional, patriarchal writers of history of course and it sometimes is hard to get a clear picture of who she really was, but here are a few tidbits about her life and rule:

Anne’s signature

1. Queen Anne was born Anne Stuart, daughter of James II and Anne Hyde and raised in the traditional way for aristocratic girls, with an education that emphasized on arts, language, and music. This eventually proved to suck dick for her big time later on in life when she became queen. Traditionally, girls were purposefully taught nothing useful about politics or history because it was assumed they would never rule (cough) and this left Anne very much lacking in the political discourse department as a monarch; all of her future speeches and even remarks made around political figures would have to be scripted by advisors. If she found herself off script and not knowing what to say, it’s said that she’d sometimes “move only her lips and make as if she said something when in truth no words were uttered.”

2. 8 year old Anne first met friend Sarah Jennings (Churchill) when she was a lady in waiting at just 5 years old. As you’ll see later on, Sarah goes on to be one of the (if not the most) influential person in the Queen’s life, becoming a trusted friend and political advisor.

3. Anne was what we would probably refer to today as a ‘hot mess express’. The poor gal had a myriad of health issues, both mentally and physically, all of which only got worse as she aged. She suffered from gout and an undefined auto-immune disorder (we think) as well as a bizarre eye-watering disorder and poor vision. It’s also pretty evident that she didn’t have the best relationship with alcohol or food and most likely developed a binge eating disorder later in her life (she was very large at the time of her death and there are a few accounts of her eating to the point of puking in front of other people).

4. Besides her relationships with Sarah and Abigail Masham, Queen Anne is also known mostly known for the tragic loss of her 17 pregnancies. Of all her births she had only 5 live babies, only one of which survived beyond infancy. Her son William was also afflicted with various illnesses all of his life and died at the age of 11.

Prince William, Anne’s longest surviving child

5. Anne became queen by accident, after her Catholic father was ousted as king by her protestant brother in-law. He and her sister ruled for a short time before dying of pneumonia and smallpox respectively with no heir in place, so Anne, who supported the protestant reformation, was crowned Queen.

6. Over the years Anne and Sarah Churchill became extremely close friends, and most accounts agree that Sarah had an incredible amount of influence over Anne’s political decisions. Sarah is said to have had a more natural affinity for politics, and to have had a completely opposite disposition than Anne. Some think that Sarah may have maintained the relationship only to keep her political control.

7. A lot of people that believe that Anne and Sarah were so close because they were lovers. The pair at one time wrote each other 4 letters a day, that included things like “I had rather live in a cottage with you than reign empress of the world without you,” “Oh come to me as soon as you can that I may cleave myself to you,” one of Queen Anne’s “I can’t go to bed without seeing you… If you knew in what condition you have made me, I am sure you would pity.” I don’t think I necessarily share that opinion, for reasons you’ll see below.

8. Sarah was the only person under Anne that was allowed to speak to her without using a title. The two often used their nicknames for each other: Mrs. Morley (Anne) and Mrs. Freeman (Sarah).

Sarah Churchill, 1702

9. A lot of scholars disagree with the notion that Anne had any gay affairs with anyone, including Sarah, for a few reasons; first because, at the time, it was just apparently normal to act hella gay with your friends, particularly for royals, so excessive touching or writing wouldn’t have raised any alarms. Most historians attribute this to the extreme separation of the sexes, particularly in upper class households. Most people spent 90% of their time exclusively with people of their own gender, so it was a means to have your emotional needs met within the confines of your station. If an aristocrat started ‘friend flirting’ with you, it was also seen as rude to not reciprocate.

10. A few other reasons Anne was probably not lesbian: she had a pretty good relationship with her husband (Prince George of Denmark), and the 17 pregnancies thing suggests that they weren’t having any problems in the bedroom department. Also, when Anne later became close friends with Sarah’s cousin Abigail, Sarah became jealous and began to spread rumors that the two were gay lovers (more on that below). This rumor probably stuck and carried over into other areas of her life. Or maybe Anne was bi and both things were true, who knows.

Anne circa 1685. All physical descriptions of Anne, especially in her later years, don’t describe her in the most glowing terms, which is insane to think about when I see portraits like this.

11. Anne began to grow distant from Sarah after her husband’s death in 1708, which all sources agree flung the queen into a huge depression. She was said to have sat by and kissed his dead body long after his death. Sarah took a tough love approach to try and snap the queen out of it, which backfired. This was when Anne began to get close to Abigail Masham, which infuriated Sarah.

12. Sarah was so mad at Anne for this that she literally wrote a song about her and Abigail being gay together, printed it out on a pamphlet, and passed it around court Mean Girls-style. The pamphlet read: “When as Queen Anne of great renown / Great Britain’s sceptre swayed / Beside the Church she dearly loved / A dirty chambermaid O Abigail that was her name / She starched and stitched full well / But how she pierced this royal heart / No mortal man can tell However for sweet service done / And causes of great weight / Her royal mistress made her, Oh! / A minister of state Her secretary she was not / Because she could not write / But had the conduct and the care / Of some dark deeds at night.”

13. Besides Sarah, a lot of people took Anne’s relative political ignorance as an invitation to push their own political agendas. It didn’t help that her reign coincided with a rapid development of a 2 party parliamentary system, as the gap between the protestant Whigs and the Catholic Tories began to widen.

14. One of Anne’s crowning political achievements was the 1707 Act of Union uniting England and Scotland under the banner of Great Britain (she had good ideas sometimes, although it’s hard to tell if they came from her or her many influential advisors). Consequently, she was the first ruler to ever rule over united Great Britain.

15. After a series of pretty horrible strokes, poor Anne died at the age of 49 in August of 1714 with no heirs and without reconciling with Sarah Churchill. To her credit, it’s said that despite her failing health she continued to attend cabinet meetings as often as possible until her death. She is buried beside her husband and children in the Henry VII Chapel on the South Aisle of Westminster Abbey.

#weird history wednesday

22 notes · View notes

bytheangell · 3 years

Text

Want the Same Things

( @shadowhunterbingo prompt: Drunken Confession) (Read on AO3)

Simon shouldn’t be drinking, but after everything that just happened at the Seelie Court he’s upset and frustrated, and can’t get out of his own head. He has the ridiculous idea that maybe getting drunk is the answer - maybe then his thoughts will be hazy enough for him to forget, at least for a little while. At the very least it might help him fall asleep, and he can’t suffer an existential crisis if he’s unconscious… he hopes.

Simon’s at the Hunter’s Moon because he doesn’t know anywhere else a vampire can go to get drunk. He wishes he had some sort of shady underground plasma connections and makes a mental note to get some in case the need ever arises in the future. Here and now, however, Maia takes one look at him and doesn’t ask any questions, only slides him over a drink. He’s grateful - at least if he can’t be somewhere he isn’t recognized he can be somewhere he’s mostly ignored.

That doesn’t last very long before he feels the presence of someone approaching and sliding into the stool next to him. Simon doesn’t have to look up from where his gaze rests firmly on the glass in front of him to know that it’s Jace. Jace Herondale, The Best Shadowhunter of His Generation. Jace Herondale, who is the very person Simon came here to try and drink away.

Jace motions for Maia to bring him a drink with a subtle hand gesture - Simon thinks idly that he must be a regular here if he can order without saying anything. Simon isn’t sure he likes the silence any longer, not when he knows it’s just building up to the inevitable, so he breaks it.

“You don’t have to be here,” Simon tells him coldly. “In fact, I’d prefer it if you weren’t.”

Jace takes a sip of his drink instead of replying immediately. “Clary said you weren’t answering her calls. I just wanted to make sure you were-”

“Please don’t say ‘okay’, Jace,” Simon pleads. “Nothing about this is okay.” Simon knocks back the rest of his plasma and orders another.

“I know I’m the last person you want to see right now,” Jace says. “But you have to know… Clary never meant to hurt you. You can’t be too hard on her.”

Simon closes his eyes, remembering the pained look on Clary’s face as she realized what she had to do, the regret he saw her direct at him before she turned to kiss Jace in front of him. The pain when he said he needed some time after they called things off... for now? For good? He can't think about that right now.

“I hardly think ignoring a few calls is being particularly hard on her,” Simon points out. “I just need some time. And some space. I think I deserve that much.”

“But you’re alright?” Jace asks, and when Simon turns a pointed glare in his direction Jace has the audacity to smirk and say “What? I didn’t say ‘okay’.”

“I’ll survive. You don’t have to worry about me flinging myself into a fire or anything,” Simon reassures him. “I just want to get drunk and forget this entire day and deal with it later.”

Simon takes a sip of his drink rather than knocking the whole thing back this time. The sounds around him are muted a bit, and his vision blurs slightly at the edges. He can feel the haze set in and it’s nice. It’s the nicest he’s felt since it happened.

“Alright. I just wanted to say that I’m sorry. I knew better than to let you go along in the first place, I could’ve stopped all of this before it ever happened. And I should’ve. That was my call to make and I fucked it up. Also, for the record, Clary doesn’t know I’m here, she didn’t ask me to come or anything. In fact, she’d probably kill me if she knew I came to stick my nose where it doesn’t belong. I just wanted to make sure you were as relatively alright as possible right now… and I guess you are, so I’ll go, then.” Jace says what he came here to say and stands up, the bar chair pushing away from the counter with a scratching sound along the floor.

“You can tell Clary I don’t hate her,” Simon tells Jace as he gets up to leave. He looks back down at the table and mutters “She wouldn’t have been the kiss I wanted most, either.”

At least, Simon thinks he’s muttering that, but his voice is louder than he realizes and Jacee stops in his tracks

“What was that?” Jace asks.

“Nothing,” Simon says quickly. Perhaps a bit too quickly, because Jace sits back down and Simon curses.

“Simon…” Jace says, turning to face him, and Simon averts his gaze. “What are you saying?”

Simon knows he won’t get rid of Jace now, not until he explains himself. He could lie, make up some girl from school, or one of Eric’s friends or something, but he’s too drunk to think of anything convincing and just wants Jace gone.

“If I had to pick,” Simon says, still not looking at Jace. “I would’ve kissed you, too.”

Maybe now he can be alone - now Jace can leave in disgust or confusion or whatever, and Simon can get the peace he came here for. Simon braces himself for the inevitable fallout and instead finds Jace’s hand wrapping around his wrist and pulling him unsteadily off his barstool and toward the door.

Simon, who hadn’t quite braced for this reaction, is helpless to do anything but allow himself to be led outside and around the corner into the small alley next to the bar.

“If you’re going to hit me-” Simon starts, not sure why Jace would hit him for that but not sure what else he would want to drag him into an alley for.

“I’m not going to hit you,” Jace says. “I just didn’t want to do this in a room full of people.”

Then, in another move Simon absolutely never would’ve predicted, Jace brings his hands under Simon’s chin, tilting Simon’s face over and up ever so slightly to look directly into his eyes. Whatever Jace is looking for, he must find it, because a moment later Jace leans forward and kisses Simon.

Simon wonders if he’s hallucinating. Maybe there was something off with that plasma, or maybe he got too drunk and fell asleep at the bar and this is all just a dream. But the brick behind him feels real enough, and so do Jace’s lips on his which now move to return the kiss eagerly.

When Jace pulls away Simon blinks at him a few times, the shock settling in properly now in the aftermath of their kiss.

“You can’t be too surprised after all the flirting I did this morning,” Jace points out.

Simon thinks back to little moments he wrote off as Jace just teasing him.

“I said you had a pretty face. I talked you up to the Seelie Queen,” Jace adds for emphasis, in Simon’s silence. “I don’t say nice things about anyone. Ever.”

Simon starts to smile. “But you did about me.”

“Now you’re getting it, Lewis,” Jace says.

“As much as I’d love to hear more nice things about me,” Simon says hopefully. “Maybe we can go back to the kissing?”

Simon watches as Jace laughs with a smile that lights up his whole face before leaning in again, wasting no time complying with Simon’s request.

Suddenly, Simon doesn’t want to forget a single detail about this night.

#jimon #jace herondale #simon lewis #shadowhunters #hmdiscord #light angst with a happy ending!#...well a happy ending for Jimon #jfdklsfjklsdfjdkls #elle writes a few deadbeat lines #long post

49 notes · View notes

nighthaikyuu · 4 years

Text

can’t | 02 | i.hajime x reader x o.tooru

pairing: iwaizumi hajime + best-friend! reader + oikawa tooru

word count: 1.9k

genre: angst, fluff, friends-to-lovers! au

warnings: none

parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | tbc

“Alright, its break time! Come back in 20 minutes you guys hear me?”

“Yes Coach!” the boys rang in unison as they bowed down to him, before dispersing, all moving in different directions to do different things during the thirty minutes of free time they had.

The Spring Tournament was coming up and the Aoba Johsai Boy’s Volleyball team had been practicing nonstop in preparation for it. This was the year. This had to be the year they beat Shiratorizawa and went to nationals.

You had just gotten back from filling up the boys’ water bottles and were handing them out to them, one by one when you let your gaze roam around the gym, looking for a certain someone. However, what you ended up seeing was something you wished you hadn’t.

It had been a mere month since the painful night when Iwaizumi had rejected the idea of dating you, despite sharing the same feelings. As much as you wanted to fight, you felt hopeless. In a way, you shared the same concern as Iwaizumi did—how could you do that to Oikawa? So you thought the best thing to do was to move on, find someone else, someone that wasn’t Oikawa’s best friend.

But as much as you tried, your body continued to betray you at every opportunity possible. Your heart that would race a little faster when you would see him. Your eyes that subconsciously looked for him wherever you went. Your thoughts that were filled with memories of him and how things used to be.

However, it seems you were the only one.

While Oikawa had his dedicated fan club filled with female students with whom he’d often interact and flirt playfully with, Iwaizumi was never one to engage in anything like that. Most of the time he was dragging Oikawa away or rolling his eyes at the way Oikawa acted.

Which was why what you saw had every single nerve in your body tingling with an unknown mix of anger and jealousy within you.

There Iwaizmu stood, arm leaning against the door frame to the gym as he stood there smiling down at two girls from your class, Hina and Aika, who were happily speaking to him. One giggled every other second, throwing her head back in laughter as her fingers twirled the ends of her hair flirtatiously. The other playfully hit Iwaizumi’s shoulder whenever he would say something, flashing him a coy smile.

“Well, would you look at that.” you heard a voice say teasingly behind you.

Oikawa walked up to stand beside you, softly tsking, “Who would’ve thought our little Iwa-chan could talk to a girl, a girl that isn’t you, right?”

Despite the sour expression that clouded your face, you forced a tight chuckle “Yea, well. Guess everyone changes.”

Unable to witness any more than you already had, you quickly turned around and moved towards the other side of the gym, hoping to preoccupy your mind with things that didn’t have anything to do with the black-haired male.

“Huh.” Oikawa simply said as he saw you walk away, your body tense with every step you took. Turning around, Oikawa called, “Oi Iwa-chan, break’s almost over, let’s go!”

Saying a quick goodbye to the girls he had been talking to, Iwaizumi ran up to join Oikawa as the two of them made their way back onto the court.

“So, I see someone has a new fan club in starting.”

“Shut up shittykawa.”

The three of you were walking home together after a long day of practice. Usually, you would leave early since Oikawa would always want to stay after to practice more, leaving Iwaizumi to stay behind and watch over him. But to your surprise, Oikawa insisted they all walk home together today since he simply “missed doing it like the old days”.

Oh, the things you would do to go back to the old days.

You had barely stepped a couple feet away from the gates of Aoba Johsai when you all heard a voice call out Oikawa’s name. The three of you turned around in unison to see a girl standing several feet away.

Oikawa merely raised a brow before plastering his usual wide smile on his face.

“I’ll be back.” he merely said before making his way to the girl who with every step Oikawa took towards her seemed to get redder and redder, her cheeks flush.

As you saw the confession go down, and the soft rejection Oikawa gave her, for a moment you forgot who had been standing next to you until you heard him say, “And there he does it again.”

Looking up at him, you saw Iwaizumi already looking at you. Yet when your eyes met his, he quickly averted his gaze, his lips pursing into a tight line. Your lips parted to say something, you wanted to just say something so desperately. The two of you had barely talked since that night, and you were surprised nobody had caught on yet.

But before you could even try, Oikawa slowly jogged back, his hands full of what seemed to be a letter and some chocolates.

“Another girl turned down by the Great King?” you joked to which Oikawa rolled his eyes.

“I don’t even know what they all see in me. I feel bad for them, but what can I do?” Oikawa smirked playfully to which earned him a slap to the arm from you.

With that, the three of you set off. The walk home passed with Oikawa talking most of the time, followed by side comments that you and Iwaizumi would give in response, but never to each other. Within minutes, you had reached your house as it was the closest to Aoba Johsai out of the three of you.

Opening the gate, you made your way to enter when you heard Oikawa clear his throat. Turning around, you saw the boy with his arms outstretched, motioning you to give him a hug.

“Come on, gimme a hug. It’s the long weekend and I won’t see you until Tuesday,” he whined, his lips forming a pout.

“Tooru, I live down the street from you—”

“Nuh-uh. No excuses. Now hurry, my arms hurt.”

Shaking your head in amusement, you walked up to him and let Oikawa wrap his arms around your body tightly as he squeezed you tight. Pulling away from him, you found your gaze automatically landing on Iwaizumi who had his eyes set on the ground beneath him.

“Iwa-chan! Aren’t you going to give our little Y/N a hug now?” Oikawa asked, nudging the boy with his shoulder.

“Don’t be ridiculous. We’ll see her again in three days, not three years.” Iwaizumi mumbled under his breath, yet loud enough for everyone to hear.

If the circumstances had been different, you would’ve jumped into his arms regardless and forced him to give you a hug. But instead, you simply forced a laugh and hit Iwaizumi’s shoulder in an attempt to be somewhat normal, “Aren’t you a little brat.”

At that, Iwaizumi looked at you before scoffing slightly. Feeling taken aback, you knew he was just being himself, but for some reason, you couldn’t help but feel a bit hurt at his reaction.

Biting down on your lip, you gave Oikawa a small wave before walking through your house gates and into your front door, closing it quickly behind you.

Outside, Oikawa punched Iwaizumi’s arm causing the boy to yelp in surprise, “The fuck?! That actually hurt you asshole.”

“Why didn’t you hug Y/N?!” Oikawa whisper-yelled as he quickly looked towards your house to make sure you had gone inside, “What is she going to think when I’m the only one who hugged her? You might as well just say that I like her at this point.”

Iwaizumi wanted to scoff, his nerves itching for him to tell him that she already knows, you dumbass.

Rubbing the spot, where now both you and Oikawa had hit, Iwaizumi said tightly, “You’ll be fine. She’s not going to think that deep into things like that.”

Scowling, Oikawa huffed before trudging off ahead. Looking up at your house, Iwaizumi stood there for a couple seconds before releasing a broken sigh. He could feel his heart aching, his heart that hadn’t stopped aching since the day you told him you had liked him too. But when he looked up and saw Oikawa motioning for him to hurry up, guilt rushed through his veins. Taking one last at your house, he started to walk towards Oikawa. But what he didn’t see was you watching him through your room window upstairs, your own heart aching in your chest in the same way.

“What did you say?”

The words flew past your lips before you could hold them back, but you couldn’t help it. Not when you had heard something like that.

Looking up at you from the floor, Maki replied, “He didn’t tell you? Apparently, Hina confessed to Iwaizumi yesterday after practice.”

Your grip on the volleyball in your hand tightened.

“Oh.”

“What did he Iwazumi senpai say in return? Hina is one of the cutest girls in Aoba Johsai, there’s no way he rejected her right?!” Kindaichi prodded, the younger boy burning with envy.

Shrugging, Maki continued, “I actually don’t know. I think Coach called us just as he had told me what happened. They’ve been talking recently a lot, so I bet things went well.”

“Impossible! Iwa-chan actually liking a girl and dating her? I must be dreaming.” Oikawa snorted, although his face was beaming with joy for his best friend.

You, on the other hand, couldn’t find a single cell within you that felt anything except a mix of sadness, anger, jealousy, and betrayal all in one.

“Y/N, aren’t you proud of him? He’s all grown up now.” Oikawa grinned, before dramatically wiping away the fake tears from the corners of his eyes.

Plastering on a fake smile, you replied stiffly, “Yea. Good for him,” as you handed the volleyball you had been tightly gripping to Oikawa.

“Let’s go pester him for more info—”

“I have to finish cleaning up. You can go and ask him if you want.” you interrupted abruptly. Bending down to grab the volleyball near your foot, you walked away from the group of boys who all stared at your retreating figure.

“Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask...Is Y/N alright?” Maki asked slowly, turning to look at Oikawa.

As his brow furrowed together, he noticed the way you moved around appeared tense, similar to the way he had seen a couple weeks ago when Iwaizumi had been busy talking to Hina and Aika. A sinking feeling erupted within Oikawa’s stomach but before he could delve on it any further, he quickly dismissed Maki with a wave of his hand, “Nah, I’m sure she’s fine. She’s probably stressed with school stuff.”

With that, the rest of the boys went back to what they were doing. However, Oikawa’s gaze still remained on your figure. The feeling in his stomach slowly crept up to his heart now, causing his chest to ache in an unfamiliar way.

tag list: @dadchi-oya, @captain-janeway

if you want to be on the taglist, fill out this x link or just comment/message me!

189 notes · View notes

transformer-imagines · 4 years

Text

Happy Together

No one asked for this, but I’m the one in control of the aux cord on this blog and I wanna indulge myself with some cute Dinobot shenanigans

Sludge (G1) x Bot!Reader (sfw)

2672 Words

Everyone and their creator knew that the Ark’s med bay was understaffed. Ratchet was the only one qualified enough to consider a doctor, so mechs tried to help out however they could. Being in the war for the better part of your life, you had picked up what medical knowledge you could in order to aid your comrades; you couldn’t offer much, but you tried to help Ratchet as much as you could. Normally this translated into running errands, taking basic vitals, or doing some patch work.

It was all hands on deck in the med bay today. A particularly nasty skirmish sent so many bots your way that anyone in non-critical condition was asked to sit on the floor. You were scurrying about between them, jotting down names and conditions on your datapad. Even the thick platted Dinobots hadn’t come out of the fight clean. The aspiring team medic, Swoop, was one of the few permitted a seat on an exam table, Wheeljack working to reattach his wing. He was the only Dinobot that you had ever really spoken to, being in and around the med bay so often. He was an excitable and enthusiastic young bot, not something anyone would be able to tell with the way his vocalizer was whining static.

His brothers had tried valiantly to remain with him in the med bay but were shooed out by Wheeljack; there were just too many injured bots for them to be taking up all that space. Only Sludge was allowed to stay, waiting to get patched up with the other mechs on the floor. You were saving him for last, not overly eager to face him; his intimidating size dwarfed most bots and the Dinobots weren’t well known for their friendly dispositions.

Eventually, you could put it off no longer. You tried your best to exude confidence and professionalism in your EM field as you approached. Sludge took notice, straightening up from tracing absentminded patterns on the floor panels to send a curious look your way. Oh Primus, he was sitting down and you barely even reached the top of his chassis.

“So, uh, you’re name’s Sludge, right? I’m Y/N.” He gave a hum in response, nodding his head in agreement that yes, his name was in fact Sludge. “Can you show me where you’re hurt?” He nodded again, moving his right pede out for you to inspect. What you could make out as his alt dino casing was shredded, jagged metal torn and fraying out from the wound.

“Right next to big explosion. Took out him Swoop. Lots of shrapnel, tore off wing and hit me in side.” He turned slightly and gestured to the kibble on his back. “More here.” You gestured for him to turn fully so you could inspect the damage as you jotted down his abridged account on your datapad. He was lucky his plating was so thick, as the force of the explosion probably would’ve hit major energon lines in any other bot. Most of his damage was superficial, deep as it was, though the shrapnel had managed to nick a few minor energon lines.

“There wouldn’t have been an explosion in the first place if it wasn’t for you ditzy dinos!” You finished jotting down the damage before looking sharply in the direction of the whiny outburst. Of course it was Huffer. “If you hadn’t given us away, none of us would be in here!”

“We’re all on the same team, Huffer,” you said with a wave of your servo. “So stop harassing patients or I’ll turn off your vocalizer.” A resounding laugh sounded from behind you.

“You must have a glitch in your memory core, Huffer,” said Hound. “The Dinobots gave us away by saving your tailpipe!”

“I could’ve taken care of it!”

You left the two to their bickering, patting your patient on his knee plating to get his attention. “You’re not too badly damaged. Since I got to you last for diagnostic, I’m gonna go ahead a patch you up first, okay?” You offered Sludge a kind smile, trying to provide better bedside manner than Huffer. He took it, returning your smile with one of his own and moving to expose the damage on his leg more as you fished around subspace for your welder and some titanium patches.

It certainly wasn’t the last time you saw Sludge. He had a knack for denting his plating, either over the course of sparing with his brothers or while out in the field. You would’ve thought that he’d just get Swoop to take care of it, but more and more frequently he would be stopping by the med bay; he said he liked how much quieter it was there than in the retrofitted cave the Dinobots had claimed as their own.

It was almost laughable how intimidating you found Sludge when you first met. He had a gentle spark, reserved and well-intentioned. Sure he didn’t have the fastest processor, but you couldn’t keep up with Perceptor either; and what was a smart mech worth if they weren’t also kind? You’d much rather spend time with Sludge than Shockwave. It didn’t hurt that he was a good listener, too. Despite what other Autobots might suggest, he had a good memory, asking for updates on personal projects that you had mentioned offhandedly the last time you saw him. And he had a creative mind! Swoop had been talking to you about how Sludge had recently taken up two-dimensional etching and drawing. And he had a handsome face, delicate touch when getting your attention, and –

Wait what? Hold on, were you…did you have a crush on Sludge? Oh Primus, this was just what you needed in the middle of a war. Still, you could do worse. And the spark wants what the spark wants… So what, maybe you did have a crush on him. You might as well try and see where it goes; in this war you had to make what joys you could.

“Is it just me or does Y/N look like they’re trying to court somebot?”

It was gossip time in the empty corridor, two mechs making good use of the late hour and lack of nearby audio receptors to concern themselves with the lives of others.

“You just noticed? Yea, I caught em in the wash polishing like it was going out of style,” Cliffjumper gave a short laugh at the memory. “You’da thunk I’d caught em sneaking extra rations with the way they bolted outta there.”

“Any ideas who the lucky mech is?” Powerglide didn’t give the minibot a moment to answer before continuing. “I overheard from Doc Ratch one of the Dinobots has got a lil crush; maybe we’ve got some love-birds on base?”

“Primus, I hope not. No one deserves to have a dumb dino on their tail; they’re so stupid and clumsy, they’d wind up melting the poor bot down! Honestly, I think Y/N deserves better than getting slagged by Slag.”

“You’re just jealous you aren’t getting any,” the plane sniped.

“Powerglide, I’m just a realist. I can’t help that your processor is full of that romantic scrap.”

“Cliffjumper, I can’t help that you have an incurably abrasive personality.” Powerglide gave the Porsche a hearty pat as he began walking further down the hall. “Come on, maybe we can get Ratch to fix that personality component of yours! Or at least we can sit down; my struts are killing me!”

“I do not have an abrasive personality, you silicon sanded showboat!”

Neither took notice of the saddened giant on the other side of the corridor, watching the retreating mechs from around the corner.

Sitting in one of the metal booths stuck to the far wall of the Rec Room, you found yourself thinking it all through. Lost in the swirling liquid of your energon cube, you wondered if you had been reading the situation wrong. You thought that Sludge had reciprocated your feelings, but he hadn’t really responded to your efforts. He never mimicked your attempts at posing or polishing. Maybe he was just unaware of Cybertronian flirting? It would make sense, as he was made on Earth, but even then you would’ve thought someone would take pity on him and explain your efforts. It wasn’t like you were being subtle, even in non-Cybertronian terms. You even got advice from Carly, trying to figure out how she’d won over someone as oblivious as Spike. You tried to be as obvious as possible, complimenting his skills and appearance and inviting him to recreational activities. But even then, he would look flustered and come up with some reason to turn you down. Maybe he was just trying to let you down on amicable terms, ignore your advances but maintain your acquaintanceship. Maybe he-

“Hi! Room here to sit?”

The scratchy voice startled you out of your reprieve; you must’ve really been in your own processor not to notice the dinobot flyer approaching.

“Oh, Swoop! Yeah, of course, take a seat,” you gestured across the table. It was almost humorous watching him try to squeeze himself into the clearly too small booth; being the smallest dinobot still made him one of the biggest Autobots. Finally situating himself, he flashed you a mischievous smirk and his optics flashed in mirth. “How’s it going?”

“Good! Had to get out of Dino Den, though; too loud for reading when Grimlock and Slag fighting.” He emphasized his point by producing an anatomical datapad and setting it on the table.

“Well that’s too bad,” you said. “How’s everyone else doing?”

“Him Snarl hog TV all day, watching Nurse Whitney.” His tone held a slight annoyance at the distraction it must’ve posed to his own studying; you knew he was quite fond of the show, and probably found it near impossible not to be watching it. His optics lit up in sudden remembrance, a squawk making its way past his vocalizer as he straightened his posture. “Sludge work on project! Big art project!”

“Oh?”

“Yes! It pretty, very pretty! Him Sludge good at art. Best Dinobot, maybe even best Autobot! And good at other things too!” Swoop emphasized his point by holding aloft a digit, helm held high with a self-assured expression. “Him strong, very strong! Last fight, him take out twenty, no, thirty Decepticons! Him good at keeping others safe, protecting. Oh, and him best fisher of Dinobots! Good provider! Patient and quiet and-”

“Wait, what’s fishing?”

“Fish earth animals, live in water. Humans and Dinobots like catching fish, very fun and -”

It was hard not to notice the lumbering form of Sludge entering the Rec behind the chatty Pteranodon. His sweeping optics seemed to stop in the direction of your booth (though you suppose it would be hard not to notice Swoop, what with his crest and loud voice), his optics seeming to blink out for a second. Swoop continued on, oblivious to his brother’s presence.

That is until Sludge began stomping his way over. You quickly grabbed onto the table, thankful that it was bolted into the wall as the ground shook under his weight. It wasn’t often you were reminded of his tremorous step, but it seemed that whatever had gotten under his plating was enough for him to have forgotten the virtue of gentle pedes. You didn’t expect to see his normally soft features so soured, mouth drawn into a tight line and optics darkened into a furrowed glare. With his massive stride, it didn’t take long before Sludge reached you. His servo came to rest behind Swoop, the back of the booth’s bench groaning under his weight as he leaned down, optic to optic with his brother.

“What you Swoop think you do?” His voice seemed edged with a nervous worry.

“Me just talking to Y/N,” Swoop answered, flashing the Brontosaurus the same mischievous smile he had given you earlier. “You know they want go fishing? Me say you should take them!”

“Yeah,” you interjected, ignoring the fact that you had never discussed joining the Dinobots on their fishing exploits. “I think it sounds like fun!” You couldn’t help the eagerness that steeped into your EM field, hopeful that you might finally get an opportunity to spend some true quality time with him outside of the occasional med bay visit.

Sludge seemed to soften a bit at your reply, gifting you with a gentle smile before his brow furrowed. His smile turned to a slight pout as his gaze drifted down, seeming to be a bit lost in thought. He exvented sharply, lugging Swoop out of his seat and maneuvering the now indignant mech around to carry him under one arm. Ignoring his squirming brother, he turned to you with a sad smile that he tried to mask with a projected air of confidence in his EM.

“Me Sludge think on it. Would be fun. Uh, him Ratchet ask to talk to him Swoop, so we see you Y/N later.” With the lame excuse, he turned to leave the Rec. With a loud squawk, Swoop made his opinion on the matter known.

“No! Him Sludge like Y/N! Like whole bunch!” That seemed to stop the brontosaurus dead in his tracks, grip loosened enough in shock that the loud flyer was able to transform out of his grasp. He seemed stuck in place as his processor caught up with the situation. In contrast, you and Swoop seemed to be a flurry of movement, standing up from your seat in the booth as the Pteranodon perched himself on the back of the bench.

“Really?” Your response, lackluster as it might’ve been, was all you could dumbly muster up at the revelation.

“Yes, him won’t shut up about it! ‘Oh, them Y/N so nice, very sweet. Pretty face, pretty smile. Feel like me Sludge melt when they look at me. So smart, so kind.’” Swoop’s impression left quite a bit to be desired, but that was the last thing on your mind, your gaze drifting to the gentle giant in question as you took in his words. Sludge had sheepishly turned halfway towards you, optics firmly locked to the ground and servos fiddling together nervously. “Us Dinobots try talk to him about anything, him always distracted or drawing you.�� That seemed to catch Sludge’s full attention. “Him have big project now, draw y-” A large servo suddenly came to rest on the Pteranodon’s beak, clamping it shut before anything too embarrassing could be shared. You craned your helm up to look at Sludge, his cheek plating positively painted with the glow of his optics and lips drawn into a pout.

“Sludge, is that true? Do you really like me?” His optics bashfully locked on the ground again, answering you with a soft nod. He dared a glance at your face before averting his gaze again. “You know, I like you a lot too.” That seemed to win his attention, finally maintaining some real eye contact. He nodded again with a hum and you frowned. “You knew? Why didn’t you say anything?” That stung, knowing that he was aware of your advances all along and hadn’t done anything. Especially when he apparently liked you too.

He opened his mouth before closing it, brow furrowing. You gave him a moment to formulate his thoughts.

“You Y/N deserve better than Sludge.” He spoke slowly, thinking hard on his words. “Deserve someone smart and not clumsy or stumbly. Deserve someone not hurt you.” You frowned at that.

“Sludge, you are one of the gentlest mech’s I know. You haven’t hurt me yet and I don’t think you will,” you said, stepping closer to him. “And in any case, I think I would know better than anyone else what I deserve. I think I deserve to be happy and getting to spend time with you makes me happy. You make me happy. Do I make you happy?”

“Yes.”

“Then let’s be happy together.”

BONUS:

“SQUAWK! Let Swoop go! No want to see smooches!”

#transformers #maccadam #sludge #sludge x reader #cybertronian reader #dinobots #swoop #g1 #tf sludge #transformers imagines #oneshot #thinking about doing another one with slag #maybe make a little series for all the dinobots?#also still need to write that smut oneshot that's just a one night stand with astrotrain #the working title of this was himbosludge #I'm a morosexual and proud #in which reader is also a morosexual

95 notes · View notes

classic80sand90smovieloves2 · 4 years

Text

Meeting and Dating Melvin Moody

(Not my gif)(Requested via message)

- You met Moody in your gym class. As a friend of Clifford's, you’d heard a lot of rants about the boy but you’d never actually met him until you walked into class on the first day of school.

- Joining all the other girls on the bleachers, you watched your friend and the rest of the boys in class play a game of basketball. That was when Moody began pushing the smaller boy around.

- Clifford was thrown to the floor and you promptly rushed out onto the court to check if he was okay, feeling your blood boil as Moody and the other kids laughed. Obviously, Moody was shocked to see you at the boys side; he couldn’t understand how a loser like Clifford managed to get a hot chick to be around him, let alone care about his well being.

- For the most part, your first meeting was pretty anticlimatic. You took Clifford to the nurse and that was that. ...Except Moody began to constantly flirt with you, so much so that it was beginning to annoy the hell out of you.

- Overtime, Clifford noticed that Moody was always looking at you whenever the two of you were together. For a while, he thought that he was the reason Moody was looking, after all, the boy would glare at Clifford half of the time he caught him watching.

“He’s staring y/n. He wants to destroy me, I just know it.”

- Then he realizes it wasn’t him Moody was staring at. He asked you to get him a drink, watching the bully who was now focused on your moving form. When you returned, he had this nervous, almost embarrassed look on his face.

“Y/n... I have another favor. Now this one is incredibly important, okay?” He was speaking like he was in pain.

“Geez Clifford, you’re scaring me.” You replied worriedly.

“I need you to date Moody.”

“What the fuck Clifford.”

“No really y/n. He’s constantly staring at you. If you go on a date with him you can convince him to leave me alone.”

- You called him insane, refusing to even entertain the idea as you began to finish your lunch. He told you to look over at the boy who; when you turned, was in fact looking at you. After a significant amount of begging and pleading, you sighed and finally agreed, telling him that he owed you.

- And so, you stood up and made your way over to Moody who instantly locked his eyes on you with a smirk plastered across his face.

“Hey there doll.” You could already tell he was enjoying this. You had to give him credit, he could be pretty smooth when he wanted to be.

“Moody...It’s come to my attention that you find me attractive.”

- Your comment wiped the smirk right off his face. He gulped; hoping that you didn’t notice his nervousness, and tilted his head with a questioning glance.

“Is that so?”

“Sure is. Now Moody, if I agree to a date with you will you leave Clifford alone.”

“Kissing included on this date?” A smug grin made its way onto his face.

“...We’ll see.” You gritted your teeth. For Clifford, this is for Clifford.

“I guess you have yourself a deal then sweetheart.”

- So after school, the two of you walked to the sandwich shop that everyone went to when class ended. At first you just about wanted to kill yourself, doing everything in your power to stick it through. That was until he dropped his cocky exterior; noticing that you really didn’t enjoy it.

- Once he started acting like himself, you actually found him charming and funny. You actually began to like the boy which made you feel evil in a way.

- He walked you home, asking when he could take you out again as you stepped inside your front door. You thought about it for a moment. This was the school bully, your friends bully.

- As much as it made you feel like you were missing out on something and like you were a horrible, fake person; you turned him down, saying goodbye and shutting your door on him. He took it well, if well mean’t storming off and bullying Clifford even worse after that.

- The boy seemed to be perpetually angry, glaring at the people around you and being even more of a menace than he usually was. You still felt horrible weeks after the situation but what could you do?

- Then it happened. After class one day; one you unfortunately had with Moody, another boy came up to you as you were leaving the room, complimenting you and confessing that he liked you as he asked you out on a date. You replied that you would get back to him, quickly excusing yourself and heading to your next class.

- You thought nothing of it until you found Moody tormenting the kid in the hallway later that day. The boy didn’t back down which was the worse thing you could do when Moody picked a fight with you, especially with his goons around.

- You cringed as Moody’s fist connected with his jaw. He would’ve thrown another punch if you hadn’t stepped in and gotten between the two. Moody; already sporting a few bruises and a bloody nose, was panting angrily as you put your hand on his chest to keep him from moving forward.

- Curses and insults were hissed at the boy as he got up behind you. Before you knew it, Moody had seized you by your wrist and wrapped an arm around you, smashing his lips to yours in front of everyone.

- He made a few comments to the boy about how “you were his” as you stood there stunned. He then proceeded to grab your arm, dragging you away from the crowd and outside the school doors. He did ask you out properly after that, and you finally agreed with a promise from him that he wouldn’t beat up anymore people.

- You’re pretty much known as the school’s saving grace. With you around, Moody actual makes an effort to be nice, or at least not bully anyone.

- Constant pda, this boy does not leave you alone at any given time.

- He’s actually a really soft guy, even if it’s just with you. In public he might act like a jerk but you’re his girl and the only one he knows really likes him without having to be threatened so, to him, you’re an angel that should be treated as such.

- He’s definitely pulled a fire alarm to get you out of class so that he could see you or because he knows you don’t want to be there.

- You’re basically his mirror 90% of the time.

“Babe does my hair look fine? What about my jacket?”

- You’re called a lot of pet names; babe, sweetheart and hotstuff are just a few.

- Since he was one of them, he knows how playboys think which usually results in him being jealous of any guy that tries to flirt with or compliment you; or just about anyone who looks at you a little too much for his liking.

- Wearing his jacket.

- His arms draped loosely around you as you sit between his legs.

- Your poor neck is constantly attacked. He’s constantly kissing and teasingly nipping at it. You do the same to him, thinking it’ll get him to knock it off a little but he genuinely enjoys it so you just have to put up with it.

- Getting pushed up against deserted hallways walls.

- Any class you have together, you can rest assured that he’s going to have the seat next to you. He will not allow someone else to have it; he just won’t.

- Teasing poking his chest or dragging a finger along it whenever he wears one of his unbuttoned shirts. It gives him goosebumps every time.

- Cute conversations while cuddling. The two of you cuddle either spooning or in the “honeymoon hug” position.

- You force him to work things out with Clifford. His apology isn’t the least bit sincere but Clifford accepts it since he knows it’s the best he’s going to get out of him.

- He acts all cocksure in public but blushes and stutters if you hold his hand or hug him. He’s a total nerd but only you’re allowed to know that.

- Innocent affection; in general, makes him nervous. He isn’t used to it though he knows he likes it; at least when it’s you.

- Getting surprise gifts; most of them are little and inexpensive but you adore them all the same. Just don’t ask where he got the money.

- Calling him Melvin just to annoy him.

- Getting flexed and winked at during gym class. You bend over in his line of vision in retaliation. You’ve genuinely made him get trampled during basketball because of said retaliation; he stopped and stared as the ball came towards him then BAM.

- Affectionate insulting.

- Jokingly making fun of each other.

- He’s usually gets pretty bored when you’re not around. Before you started dating, he was fine, but then you came along and showed him how much fun he could have, now he knows he could be having a better time and it annoys the hell out of him.

- You can actually tell the moment he sees you because he instantly straightens, his eyes lightening up and a smirk gracing his features.

- He’s pretty protective in general but god forbid you get sick or injured. He’s at your side in an instant, threatening people and making demands as he looks you over.

“Stop breathing, she needs more air.”

- No one dares mess with you so it isn’t very often that you have problems with people. Most of them tend to treat you like you have some kind of disease, keeping their distance as much as possible.

- He’s not a very open person but you can tell that he trusts and loves you, even if he isn’t keen on using his words to express it.

- Small prank wars.

- Occasionally he’s just going to have to act like an asshole; even to you, just to try and keep up his touch guy reputation. You don’t know how many times he apologizes when the two of you are finally alone together.

- Most of the girls in school are envious of you, you think it’s sort of funny since they don’t even know the real him.

- Sexual innuendos.

- Sometimes you’ll just grab his hand and doodle on his arm. He pretends like he hates it but he wears his sleeves up for the rest of the day.

- He’s sort of jealous of Clifford and very jealous of Ricky. He fucks up a lot and figures that one day you’ll just get sick of him and give up, moving on to one of them. He never lets you know this but you can tell from the bitterness in his voice when he asks if you “had fun” while you tell him who you were hanging out with.

- When you’re alone together, he’s really interested in what you have to say and actually likes hearing about your day.

- He kind of hates when you ask him about his because he’s self conscious, thinking he’ll seem boring, dumb or just like an asshole to you. He tends to just brush off the question, hoping you’ll just let it go.

- Teach this boy how to handle his emotions and feelings, just please teach him. He’s so used to being a jerk-off and pretending to be someone he’s not that he doesn’t know how to functionally be himself.

- He doesn’t really like not being in control, it makes him sort of uncomfortable because he’s completely out of his element. Like he’s fine with affection when it’s him doing it to you but how is he supposed to act when you do it back??

- Him jokingly acting all tough with you, especially while doing something particularly affectionate.

“Love you.”

“Love you more.”

“Now listen here you little shit. I love you most, do you understand me?”

- He just tells you when you’re going to go out. No asking what you’re doing, no proposal; no nothing.

“Dinner with me today. Six o’clock.”

“Cafe after school. Meet me in the front.”

- He’s the type of asshat to flirt with and gawk at other girls while he’s with you, then not understand why you’re mad at him. You do the same with different guys just to prove a point and this bitter realization hits him so hard. He doesn’t do it anymore after that.

- Fights are awful arguments that result in the both of you avoiding each other. He purposefully tries to make you jealous by flirting with other girls; hoping it will make you talk to him first, while you don’t really have even try to make him jealous.

- He definitely rants to Clifford while the boy tries not to look entirely dead inside. He literally has his head in his hands the entire time and is sighing every other minute.

- Apologies are made a few days later when he can’t stand not having you constantly at his side. He’s grown accustomed to your company and everything just feels off without you around.

- Is he too much of a dick to be a long term boyfriend? Maybe. You’ll just have to find out won’t you!?

- It’s fun while it lasts, even if it’s only for a year or two though I’ll be the one to tell you that he’s not too keen on letting you go anytime soon.

#melvin moody #melvin moody imagine #melvin moody headcanons #melvin moody headcanon #my bodyguard imagine #my bodyguard #My Bodyguard 1980 #my bodyguard imagines #my bodyguard headcanons #80s movie imagine #80s movie imagines #80s movie headcanons #80s movie headcanon

103 notes · View notes

simsadventures · 4 years

Text

Duties: Chapter 5: In the Dark

Medieval Alpha Thor x Medieval Omega Reader

Summary: There is only one thing left to do to protect Thor from your past. Run. And neither Tony nor Thor are too happy about your decision.

Warnings: fluff, angst

Word Count: 1710

A/N: Things are getting angsty you guys, hope you’re ready. If you like this story, please let me know. I know that not that many people are into it, but I hope those of you who read it at least enjoy it :) xx

Series Masterlist __ Masterlist

< Previous Chapter

Waking up the next morning, a warmth surrounded you. You knew that the warmth came from the sun shining outside of the castle’s walls, but you had the feeling as if it came from inside of you. Just from the warmth, your heart has been basking in ever since Thor said goodbye to you the night before. You stayed up talking for the better part of the night, sharing little information about each other, enjoying the other’s company.

Thor left with a huge smile on his face, and you loved how his cheeks reddened when you complimented him on something he wasn’t used to. Thor was a beautiful man, you were aware of that, and you were pretty sure he also knew about this quality. He was used to people complimenting him on his golden hair, on his strength, on his body, all of it. But when you told him you admired his intelligence, he couldn’t help himself but feel like a schoolgirl.

When you noticed this little trait of his, you tried to highlight the things you were sure some people didn’t care to see. His strength was admirable, sure, but it was the strength of character that you elevated when talking to him. However bad he thought himself as a prince, you assured him that he was still acting like the heir of Asgard’s throne, not giving his father the chance to doubt him. You were sure all kings when talking to Odin would tell him that Thor was the example of eloquence and royalty, that he wasn’t just the bratty child they expected.

It was thanks to encouragements like these Thor knew you would make the best of queens. Especially for him. He tended to be rash, sometimes, in his decision-making process, his hot head getting the best of him. But with you by his side, Thor knew you would tell him when he was being irrational, and also tell him when it was enough of the childishness.

Thor also knew that there wouldn’t ever be any other woman for him other than you. You were perfect in every possible way, from the way your giggles turned into adorable snorts when there was something you found especially funny, to the way you scrunched your nose when you were thinking, Thor couldn’t stop looking and smiling at you.

The whole day was perfect for both of you, and both you and Thor went to sleep feeling like you were on top of the world.

But when the morning glow diminished, and you suddenly realised that no matter how meant to be the two of you were, you couldn’t be with him. In your eyes, Thor deserved somebody better, or at the very least, somebody with a clean slate. Someone whom he could present as the rightful queen without feeling guilty or as if though he should be hiding something.

When you finally realised that you cared about him enough not to let him undergo all of this, you finally rolled out of bed and went straight to your little closet.

You needed to get out of there.

Clothes were sent flying through the room as you tried to pack as lightly as you could, only taking the utmost necessities and the things that were left to you by your mother, like the pendant she gifted you when you reached 18. It was one of the best days of your life, and one of the last good days you had with your parents. From that point onwards, everything went to hell, and eventually, your whole existence became your own personal hell.

Until you met Thor and you had the glimmer of hope that things could be better. But you knew that they couldn’t. That as long as there were parties still searching for you, trying to deliver your head to the king, you didn’t stand a chance for happiness. And only because your life was damned, you were willing to condemn Thor to the same fate.

With that thought you got up from the floor, scribbled a quick letter to the king, thanking him for all he’s done for you in the past few years, and set on the journey. And it would be a long one.

Thor woke up with a smile on his lips. He hasn’t felt this elated in a long time. Usually, he woke up hungover, with multiple women weaved into his own limbs, and he still felt empty and sad, trying to fill a hole he didn’t even know he had.

But with you in his life, he suddenly knew what he missed. The connection, however short it has been, was unconquerable for Thor. He saw a few women ever since he met you, smiling at him, obviously flirting him and if he were his old self, he was positive he would have enjoyed the company of at least two of those women.

But he didn’t need to anymore. He went to sleep alone and woke up the happiest man in the world. I all seven of them, he was sure of it.

Thor had time to spare because you told him that there was work to do in the morning to prepare baked goods for Tony’s lunch, and so he went and roamed the castle, his head high up in the skies, thinking of you. The way you smelled, the way your velvety skin felt against his finger, the way your lips would feel when he finally got enough courage to kiss you properly.

He didn’t even realise it, but while he roamed, Thor got to Tony’s quarters. He wouldn’t be so bold as to knock on anybody’s door, hasn’t it been his old friend. He waited a while before Tony smiled at Thor from the door.

“Your majesty, what can I do for you?” Tony mocked and stepped aside for Thor to come in.

Thor rolled his eyes at Tony and walked to the couch in the middle of the room, before he slumped down like a sack of potatoes, stretching his limbs, lazy smile on his face.

Tony eyed him up and down, smirking to himself.

“I assume you had a good night from the look on your face, huh? How many was it this time, two, three, ten?” Tony laughed at his friend, and Thor scoffed. He would’ve been offended if it hadn’t been true just a few weeks ago.

“No, my friend. I had nobody in my chambers for your information. But I spent the best of days with a beautiful girl, yesterday,” Thor said proudly, reminiscing about the way your hips swayed ever so little as you walked through the market yesterday.

“Oh, do tell! You know how hungry for gossip I am,” Tony sat down next to Thor, evidently eager for more information about Thor’s rendezvous.

“I found my true mate, pal! Would you believe it? And to think I wasted days roaming other kingdoms when I could’ve come straight here and been with her for all this time? Preposterous!”

Tony just gaped at Thor with his mouth open, before he recollected himself and patted Thor’s shoulder.

“Who is she? How did you find her? Is she some court lady? Somebody else altogether? When is the wedding?” Tony rambled on until Thor stopped him by bursting into laughter. But before he could say anything more, a servant almost ran into Tony’s chamber, and wasn’t it for the slightly alarmed look on his face, Tony would most probably pester him for coming in without as much as knocking.

“Your majesties, I’m awfully sorry for barging in so suddenly, but I was instructed that I should deliver this letter to you as soon as possible. I was told that it is the most pressing matter,” the servant breathed out.

“And who told you so?” Tony eyed him up and down before taking the letter from his hand.

“Your queen, my king. I was looking for you in the throne room but found only her, and as the letter was addressed to both of you, I thought I would give it to the queen, but upon reading she sent me rushing to you, my king,” the servant finished.

Tony scanned through the letter, and his stomach turned. Thor could see the change in Tony’s face, glancing back at the servant, trying to connect the dots, but there weren’t many.

“This can’t be true! Why would she do this! She is in such grave danger, and now she runs away from here? It doesn’t make any sense, whatsoever. Tell me, boy, when did you find this letter?” Tony barked, standing from the chair and pacing around the room.

“She didn’t come to the kitchen on the appointed time, and because she was always on time, Mr Thornes, the main baker, sent me looking for her. He was scared that something might have happened to her, but when I came to her chambers, all that was left was this letter,” the servant said obediently, trying not to be intimidated by Tony’s harsh looks.

“Somebody must stop her. I understand she says that this is her decision, but I’ve protected her long enough that she feels like a sister to me. I must find her and bring her here before anybody else does,” Tony snarled and tried to walk out of the room before Thor stopped him by laying his hand on Tony’s shoulder.

“What is going on, Tony? You look like the whole kingdom should fall tonight,” Thor said jokingly, but his face remained like a stone.

“It’s just a girl I’ve been protecting by hiding her here as one of the helping hands in the kitchen. She is now gone, and I worry about her safety,” Tony said, and for a second, Thor felt as if a cold breeze swooshed over him. It couldn’t be you, could it?

“And what is her name, if I may ask?” Thor almost whispered, fearing Tony’s answer.

“Well, I don’t know what good that information is to you, but if you must know, her name is Y/N.”

Thor’s world crumbled in that very moment. What felt like the best day in his whole life, suddenly turned out to be possibly the worst one.

/ Next Chapter >

Duties:

@kenzieam @the-soulofdevil @thelonglostavenger @beatrice-of-messina @mrsalwayswrite @rohaintahquil @youngdreamer3214 @the-walking-daryl @jaxyboy246 @ba-arish @champagnesugamama @bullshitantichrist @thedaniroguefan @stressedandbandobessed7771 @anxious-trashpanda @noobmaster696969 @centerhabit @rinkashirikitateku @booksbeforebois @qween-of-trash @absolutelynotanidiot

Marvel Taglist

@voltage-my2dlove @kneel-begyourpardon @lumar014 @ptrs-prkrs

Thor Taglist

@owlyannah

Forever Tag:

@eileenalone @sasbb23 @p8tn0lish @coffeebooksandfandom @waiting4inspiration @caswinchester2000 @mogaruke @justthatfangirloverthere @mushyjellybeans @livsheph @sebbbystaaan @notyourtypicalrose @itsunclebucky @rinkashirikitateku @leosandbuckysgirl @miraclesoflove @keithseabrook27 @official-and-unstable-satan

261 notes · View notes

eleanorbloom · 4 years

Text

[OH] When You’re Ready Ch. 05

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x f! MC (Eleanor Bloom) x Ethan Ramsey.

Word Count: 4.7k

Warning: Adult language and fluff.

Summary: Bryce has decided to let go Eleanor because she’s in love with Ethan Ramsey. But a turn in her relationship with the attending might change Bryce's plans.

Taglist: @utterlyinevitable @binny1985 @laiba-the-person @choicesficwriterscreations @shanzay44 @starrystarrytrouble

Let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist!

A/N: First of all I wanna thank Donny for give me permission to use his photo for this chapter. Since I had this chapter in mind, I always wanted to post a photo with the Fenway Atrium Court at night, and it happened Donny was the only person who had photos of what I had exactly in mind, so thank you so much again!!

To my readers, I invite you all to visit his Instagram account. His work is impressive.

Thank you all for your kind words and support. I hope you enjoy this chapter.

_____________

Chapter 5: Something About Us.

It might not be the right time

I might not be the right one

But there’s something about us I want to say

Cause there’s something between us anyway

After the night out at Improv Atrium, Bryce and Eleanor continued to hang out as much as their shifts allowed. Sometimes to try new music, new bars or simply to go to find some new adventures just as they used to before.

Eleanor, so committed to getting her life back, accepted all the invitations he made her. She soon noticed that she was feeling in a better mood when she was around him and her daily mood had improved significantly.

That led Eleanor to start seeing him like she used to before. In fact, not like before, but completely different. She didn’t think of him as someone to have a casual fling with, a friend to have fun with and that was all. She was beginning to see him as the man she was attracted to and comfortable with. A man who no longer brightened her days by his humor, his flirtatious smile, or his self-confidence, but by the care, the time, and the good moments he was giving to her.

At first, she didn’t realize the changes in her, she thought she was just so happy to hang out with him like they used to, that she was glad their adventurous friendship was back; but one day, she found herself wishing she could see him and talk to him. Wishing she could see his smile and hear his voice.

One day, Eleanor was walking into the hospital with Jackie when someone caught and hugged them by the shoulders.

“How are two of my favorite medical interns?”

“I’ll be better if you take your ken doll arm off my shoulders, thank you.”

“Always so nice, Varma.”

“Of course, Lahela—Jackie winked at him, a smirk in her mouth—You should be thankful that I didn’t punch you in the face”

“What happened to you? Did you use stones instead of sugar with your coffee this morning, Jackie?”

“Sugar is for wimps; I drink my coffee black”

“That explains how psychopath you are sometimes”

“And you, why so happy, uh?”

“I’m always happy, Elle.”

“Yeah, but you’re annoyingly happier than other days."—Jackie insisted

“Actually, you have a minute, Elle?”

“Sure”

Jackie raised an eyebrow, looking at them suspiciously.

“I catch you later, Jackie”—Eleanor added, without noticing her cheeks had turned a little rosy.

"Take your time."—She joked as she continued walking towards the locker room.

“What is it?”

“Have any plans today?”

“Maybe go to have some drinks at Donahue’s, has been a rough week.”

“I’ve got something better”

“Like what?”

“A surprise. You up for a surprise?”

“Um, yeah? I guess so”

“I need some confidence, Elle!”

“Yes, I’m up for a surprise with Bryce Lahela!”

“That’s the spirit!”

They continued their way towards the locker room, lost in the conversation.

“Can you give me a clue about this surprise? Like, it’s music, it’s food, it’s some new game?”

“Well, maybe it’s the three of them.”

“You’re not helping, Bryce!”

“It’s a surprise, and I’ll keep my mouth shut until we are there.”

“Okay, I get it”—Eleanor answered, rolling her eyes—So, we meet at the atrium as usual?”

“Yes, as usual.”

“Okay”

Surprisingly, Bryce cupped her cheeks with both hands and gave her a short but loud kiss on the cheek.

“Have a nice day, beautiful, see ya.”

And then he went directly to his locker, but not before giving her the most charming smile she had ever seen on him. Eleanor stood in the doorway, flushed and astonished.

Jackie glanced towards her, still looking mischievous.

“What are you, fifteen?”

Eleanor ignored Jackie and went to her locker, her cheeks still reddened. She put on her scrubs, tied her hair into a braid, and with Jackie by her side headed to the Nurses’ Station to do the first morning rounds.

Although she was fully focused on her work, Eleanor couldn’t help but feel a little anxious about the end of her shift. The kiss Bryce gave her in the locker room attacked her from time to time, making her cheeks return to a rosy hue. In a way, she knew that was connected to the surprise Bryce had, because he never, in all these weeks, had been this affectionate to her. But she didn’t want to get any ideas or illusions about anything.

"So…"—Jackie said to her, both taking a break in the Nurse Station. "Are you going to tell me what the meathead wanted with you or not? You’ve been acting weird since this morning.”

“Um … Nothing, just inviting me out, as usual.”

“Oh sure. As usual. What is gonna be today? Jazz? Trash punk? You’ll make yourself quite the music critic, uh?”

“Actually, I don’t know, he didn’t tell me.”

“A surprise date, damn. He’s getting serious.”

“Shut up, Jackie.”

“Oh, Eleanor, don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.”

She blushed.

“I have.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“Please, Eleanor, he has been stupid for you since day one, and the stupidest since he started to take you out once Ramsey left. Do you like him?”

“Um, I don’t know.”

“You cannot not know, it’s simple, yes or no. You have to know before it gets more serious.”

“I don’t know, Jackie. Maybe. It's… it’s not that I do NOT like him. But I don’t know if I like him… or like him enough. I’m confused.”

“Mmm well, I think that’s a start.”

“You think so?”

“Well, yeah. Of what I recall, he was never a possibility before. Just a hookup. And now…you don’t deny it.”

“I know, it’s just… I still have feelings for Ethan.”

“Yeah, I know, but you can’t close the door, Eleanor. Maybe he’s your way out.”

“But I don’t wanna use him. Not him that has always been too good with me.”

“I’m not saying you should use him. I’m just saying, give him a chance. If you don’t feel it, it’s okay, but you should give both a chance. To you, to… feel something good in your life after all the crap Ramsey put you though, and Lahela… because of all the effort he has put on you. Just a chance.”

“Well … I guess you’re right.”

“I’m always right Eleanor.”

“Thank you, Jackie. I never thought you would be so good at pep talk.”

“I’m not, but I’m tired of seeing Lahela cheering you like a fucking clown and you don’t seem to notice.”

“I have notice… I’m not that dumb… It’s just, just today I realized where this is really going. Or where he wants to go.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ, you’re so clueless sometimes.”

Eleanor gave her a shy smile.

“Eleanor, just … don’t close yourself to the possibility. If you realize later that he isn’t for you, that’s fine, but you can’t miss a chance because of someone who is thousands of miles away and hasn’t shown any concern for you since he left.”

She nodded and then saw her friend grab the charts from the table to start a new round with her patients; then took a breath and decided to do the same.

Eleanor spent the last three hours of her shift thinking about the last few weeks. She did have realized that Bryce was trying to cheer her up and get her out of her misery. But she had never realized that he had other intentions with her because he never suggested anything. Bryce was direct, flirtatious, and always went for what he wanted, without hesitation. Therefore, if Bryce had been flirting with her, Eleanor would’ve noticed. Instead, all she remembered was Bryce asking her out, going to concerts, talking about life, etc. When Eleanor was suddenly feeling a little bad, Bryce would persuade her into talking about her feelings and would guide her toward a way out or would just make her laugh to ease the demons inside her head.

“Eleanor, you’re doing it great.”—He would say when she was feeling down in the middle of the night—“Just look at you now! We are in the middle of a jazz music concert, surrounded by people who in a million years we would think we meet. You’re not in your room, crying, thinking about Ramsey, or eating ice cream, or drowning yourself with work. You have come a long way. Just look at your face! Even your face it’s different!”

“Well, yeah..”

“Enjoy your life, Elle, meet new people, live new experiences, find meaning in simple things like music, or a random night out in Boston. That’s what really matters.”

Eleanor was moved to realize how, once again, Bryce noticed things that not even herself noticed. Her progress in pain, her mood, etc. And that was because Bryce took the time to listen to her, to pay attention to her. Her friends did that too. Sienna and Elijah mostly, had been actively supporting and caring for her all this time. They had given her their space, but they also pushed her to share her feelings with them and they used to call her out when she was sinking again.

But with Bryce… it was different.

Fifteen minutes to the end of her shift, Eleanor finished her rounds. Before another new case could be handed over to her, she went straight to the locker room to take a shower and change her clothes. Ever since their first night out with Bryce, Eleanor started to bring some nice clothes to get change in case he would invite her to another adventure. Fortunately, that day she was bringing a pretty cute outfit.

She dressed in dark blue jeans, a white collared sleeveless blouse, and an emerald green jacket. Unlikely other nights out, that night she paid attention to her appearance. She fixed her hair and applied the basic makeup she had found in her backpack: A cupper tone eyeshadow that highlighted her brown eyes in a golden tone, a mascara that made her eyes look bigger, and a pink lipstick that gave her a jovial appearance.

As soon as she was ready, she went to the atrium to wait for Bryce. She sat down on a chair near the entry and started scrolling on her phone, looking for memes that made her laugh to ease her anxiety.

“Hey, sorry for the delay I had to talk to…"—Eleanor looked up and Bryce choked with his own his words.—A post-op… Woow”

“What?”

“You look incredible, Elle.”.

Eleanor blushed and smiled at him

“Thank you. You look great too. This color suits you.”—She replied gripping the collar of his pale pink silky shirt that made his skin look like sweet caramel.

“Shall we?”

“Absolutely”

“Are you going to tell me where are we going?”

“No, but I’ll tell you it’s a little different from where we usually go. I think you’ll like it. There, that’s our uber ride.”

He pointed out a car parked a few feet from the entrance.

“Good night. Bryce?”—The driver greeted.

"The very same.”—He replied while both got in the car and greeted the driver.

“Do you have an alternative route?”

“No, use the one that the application gives you”

“Okay.”

After about ten minutes, the car stopped. As the got out of the car, they sauntered toward a square building, made of glass, beautifully lit and surrounded by green grass and trees. Eleanor searched for a name that would reveal where they were until she found it in the building next to the first one, which revealed: Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum.

“A Museum? Wow, I never thought you were a Museum guy.”

“Well, I am. I mean, I’m not the type of guy who goes to museums weekly, but from time to time I like to go when I feel the adventure’s waiting for me there.”

“And you’re feeling the adventure is waiting for us in there?”

“Well, adventure is not what I have in mind for tonight, but I’m open to anything”

Eleanor couldn’t help but blush a little. Then, they made their way into the building.

“Is it common for museums to be open at this time of day?”

“No, just this museum, on this specific day.”

“What do you mean?”

“The third Thursday of the month, the Museum opens at night and people play music and put shows until late. They usually close at 9 pm, but for some reason, it will be open till 12 pm today.”

“Really? I had no idea. How exciting!!—She said clapping her hands, smiling like a little girl.—I like this already!

“I’m glad you liked it.”

Bryce showed his cellphone when they made it to the ticket booth.

“Wow, you had planned this with anticipation, uh?”

“A couple of days, yes. I’m not just spontaneity, you know?”

After their entrance was allowed, they continued their way towards the Fenway Court Palace, the museum itself. The Palace was the house of Isabella Stewart Gardner, an art collector whose Museum was called after her, and that was built to emulate a 15th Venetian Palace.

Every step they walked into the building felt like they were entering another world. There was no trace of Boston there. It was all Europe, China, and some America too, but the style and most of the art were foreign.

They spent about two hours wandering around the four-floor construction, while the bands were playing, the exhibitions were showing, the tours being guided and the attendants were having a drink. A real party in an outstanding place.

Once the finished the third floor, Bryce decided to take her to the main floor so they could see the Fenway Atrium Court up close. The Courtyard was famous for the Mosaic of Medusa, which had been created in Rome before Christ, and was surrounded by an impressive array of shrubs, flowers, and botanical spices that made them forget, once again, they were in the middle of Boston. The tranquility and beauty of nature in those square feet transported them to another dimension, much more with the stars that covered the spring night.*

“Oh my god, this is … absolutely wonderful. It seems like it was taken from a fairy tale.”

Eleanor turned to him, a big smile on her face. But he had been looking at her all this time. The Fenway Courtyard was indeed beautiful, but her smile would always be the winner for him.

“May I have this dance, miss?”

In the distance, a jazz ballad was playing, coming from a band on the other side of the courtyard. They began to dance close together, cheek to cheek. Eleanor wrapped her arms around his neck while his were at her back; both with their eyes closed, feeling the music, the tranquility in the air, the laughter of the people. (A/N: I highly recommend you to hear this version of the song, since I wrote the scene with that one on my mind).

“When I fall in love it will be forever

Or I’ll never fall in love

In a restless world like this is

Love is ended before it’s begun

And too many moonlight kisses

Seem to cool in the warmth of the sun”

Eleanor hadn’t felt so calm in a long time. Her anxiety had dissipated and had been replaced by a feeling of amusement, peace and joy. There were no worries, fear, anguish. And it was all because of him.

“When I give my heart it will be completely

Or I’ll never give my heart

And the moment I can feel that you feel that way too

Is when I fall in love with you”

Suddenly, Eleanor slid her arms through his chest and wrapped them around Bryce’s back, hugging him. Bryce reacted a few moments later, a bit astonished, but returned the embrace with delight. He placed his hands to her waist and tightened the grip. For a brief moment, Eleanor wanted to cry for how beautiful that moment felt. She pulled away from him, her heart beating fast, and looked him straight in the eye. And at that moment, both were aware of how much desire was in them. But a pure desire. A longing he had never seen in Bryce. A longing Bryce had never seen in Eleanor toward him.

Bryce was an open book and Eleanor always knew when he wanted her. But now his longing was completely different. It was in a tender, protective, and amazed way, all at once, like he was discovering a treasure in front of him. And for Eleanor, it felt like she was seeing him for the first time, seeing how he really was, with all the feeling he had tried to hide in these past weeks. She was discovering a treasure too.

Her legs began to tremble, so she brought her hands to his cheeks, in the hopes of finding balance and the courage she needed for the next move. The touch of his skin was enough to find it.

She leaned to him, and after observing each other mouths for a few moments, their lips fused. Hers brushed his delicately, carefully, feeling the warmth and sweetness little by little. Bryce encircled her more firmly around the waist, leaving her body completely flushed to his. Then he brought a hand to the back of his neck to tilt her head and deepened the kiss without losing the delicacy or sweetness of that moment. Their hearts were beating fast, eyes were seeing stars, their skin was melting as they opened their mouths to explore more of themselves; until they finally, after a long dance of lips and tongues, they returned to a slow, soft kiss, just to finish with a chaste kiss in their lips.

"Elle"—He sighed, pressing his forehead into hers, not hiding any astonishment in his voice.

An electric shock waved through her spine. She had always loved the fact that he was the only person in the world that called her Elle. That nickname felt unique for her.

Then he pulled away from her, his amber eyes looking into hers, creating electricity the moment they met. It seemed like he was looking right through her soul and made her feel an exquisite warmth and calmness inside her.

“Bryce…”—She whispered, her eyes sparkled with joy—"Don’t think I haven’t noticed everything you’ve done for me in this time."—She continued softly while caressing his cheek with the tip of her thumb, holding her eyes in his.

“What do you mean?”—He replied, feigning ignorance.

She shook her head

“I know you’ve been particularly focused on cheering me up, making me feel good…”

“Well yeah, it’s the least I would do to keep you from looking sad, Elle.”

“I know, but it has been much more than trying to get me out of my misery for a while. Although our nights out always have a friendly motive and you have never insinuated anything all this time, your eyes and your heart have spoken for themselves.

“And what have they said?”

“Well, in all this time, everything has been about me. How I feel, what I wanna do. You don’t flatter yourself when we are together, you don’t encourage any conversation that ends up bringing the focus to you. And it feels natural, it doesn’t feel… cynical or condescending of you. That’s a very great show of interest. I know that deep down it has been with ulterior motives.”

Bryce bit his lip, holding the gaze, implicitly accepting the accusations she was making. She smiled.

“Thanks, Bryce. This date has been beautiful.”

“Date?”

“You don’t have to pretend with me anymore. I know that when you talked about going out or hanging out, deep down in your mind you planned it as an undercover date.”

Bryce laughed.

“Wow. Not for nothing you were selected as Junior Fellow on the Diagnostics Team, were you? Very good observations.”

Bryce stroked her cheek.

“I hate to see you sad, Eleanor. That’s why I’ve been trying to make you feel good, to show you how you deserve to feel, how you deserve to be treated, because you don’t deserve anything that happened to you.”

"Bryce…"—Eleanor had never seen him so serious as now. He was genuinely reflecting how much he had been worried about her, how much her situation had pissed him off.

“Eleanor, you are a person with incredible kindness, devoted to your patients, colleagues, friends … You shouldn’t be treated they way Ramsey has done to you or left you wondering what you did wrong. Not even the excuse that your career is most important is justified, because there are much kinder and considered ways to put distance between you and without hurting you that much.”

“I know.”

“You know, when you told me we had to end what we had, I was okay with it, because I truly believed that Ramsey was gonna fight for you, because, God, in his place, I’d do everything to make you happy, I’d give you everything”—Bryce sighed, looked up at the sky and then to her, resolution in his eyes.—"But I can’t anymore, Eleanor, I can’t keep seeing you suffering because of someone who doesn’t value you, someone who isn’t even capable of sending you a fucking email to tell you that he’s okay.”

Eleanor looked away, hurt, sad, embarrassed. Hearing the reality from his mouth was a much-needed bucket of cold water.

“It’s true, it was a miserable attitude of him. But Bryce, listen to me. I appreciate everything you have done for me and …”

She couldn’t go on. She had to be careful with her words to not feel any regrets later. But actually, there was nothing else to think about, that moment was the confirmation of all the doubts that had been around her mind during the day, and, honestly, also for several days, since she sensed something was different with Bryce. The doubts weren’t really doubts. It was fear. Fear of making the same mistakes as with Ethan. Afraid of doing to Bryce what Ethan was doing to her. But Eleanor was no longer afraid.

“I feel things for you, Bryce"—She confessed—"Even more than I felt before we broke up, but I still have Ethan in here” –She pointed to her heart—"And I don’t want to give you any false hopes. The last thing I want is to hurt you, and I don’t think I’d ever forgiven myself if I did.”

“I know, Eleanor, I know it’s not something that happens overnight, but I want you to know that I’m here for you, and I wanna show you what you deserve because I care about you, Elle"—Bryce suddenly shook his head, denying. —"More than that, I’ll do it because I love you.”

Eleanor was agape. She’d managed to conclude that Bryce liked her, and well, everyone knew that. Sienna, Elijah, Jackie had noticed what Bryce was doing with her that last few weeks, but she never expected to hear those three words from Bryce. But they were sincere. His gaze, all his past behavior echoed what he had said. And that amazed her more. Although it also increased her fear of hurting him in all this path that they seemed to be starting together.

“I won’t pretend that I don’t feel what I actually feel. Would be contradictory of me to shut up something like that when I want to give you everything, and that starts from being honest with my feelings… And please, don’t feel scared. I’m not saying this to manipulate you. I just want you to know how I feel about you, but don’t feel forced to anything, okay?”

“Bryce, I …”

“Elle, I know you don’t feel the same, I know you’re in love with Ramsey, but I want you to give me the opportunity to show you everything you deserve. The love, care, support, and happiness… So when the day comes, you stop accepting crumbs from anybody and go for what you really want and deserve. It may not be with me, but with someone you love and that loves you back the same way. Even with Ramsey, if he wakes up.”

Eleanor was astounded. Bryce Lahela. The cocky, brilliant, and handsome surgical intern. The most self-confident person she knew. The man whose art of flirtation came so naturally to him, as if he carried it in his veins. That Bryce Lahela was playing all his cards even knowing that he might not be the winner, but someone else, including Ethan.

"Bryce… Are you serious?”

“I am, Eleanor. You have to figure it out for yourself. I don’t do it just to make you choose me, but to make you happy. And well, if it turns out that it’s me, obviously I’ll be the happiest man on this planet. But what I really want is you to figure this out.”

“Oh my God Bryce, I’d never have expected this.”

“I must admit that neither do I. I spent a long time trying to forget you, you know? But when I realized that I couldn’t… And that you were so sad, I decided to give myself a chance, give us a chance to be happy, to look for possibilities. And I believe together we may find a lot of happiness along the way, Elle. Also pain, but if we are together I think it will be easier to face what may come.”

Eleanor stared at him in the eyes, reading the sincerity in his expression. There were no hidden intentions, no jealousy, no insecurity, no manipulation. Only the genuine wish that she would experience in her own flesh what she deserved in a relationship.

“I’m speechless”—She murmured, stroking his silky hair softly.

Bryce grinned, caressing her cheek.

“You’re truly wonderful, Bryce.—She finally said—Among all the prejudices I had about you, one of them was that you had zero emotional intelligence. Even when you have been very understanding all this time. But this is different. This is so open-minded, so selfless. Is on another level.”

“That’s how love works, Elle. It’s selfless. And if I’m honest with you, I only found out this because of you. Before you, I never felt this way. I want you more than anyone in my life, but what really matters to me is you to be happy, and I hope it’s with me.”

“I think I’m being happy with you right now… And I have been happy these past weeks too”—She replied, her cheeks flushed.

“I’m glad you feel this way—Suddenly, he chuckled—God, you’re so cute when you blush”

Her cheeks went crimson

“Ahh stop it!”

“Just look at you, so lovely”

They both laugh.

Eleanor then caressed his cheek, looking at him so tenderly. She couldn’t understand since when it was that easy to look at him this way, but she liked it. She kissed him again.

“I don’t want to play with you, Bryce, but for some reason, I don’t want to leave your side, and … Maybe a part of me wants this to go on and grow until… Well, until you’re the one.”

His heart stopped. He’d have never expected that. Well, he didn’t even think this date would go that well, but he never expected Eleanor would be so open to the possibility to be together. It seemed like he was doing a good job after all.

“You really mean that?”

“I really do, Bryce.”

“Me too.”—He replied, stroking her hair.—But you have to know that if you feel things are changing, for better or for worse, you must tell me. If Ramsey returns and promises you heaven and earth and you want to try with him, just tell me. And if instead … Your love turns to me, well, of course, I want to know!”

“I will.”

There was still music in the air. Another jazz ballad. Bryce wrapped her in his arms and kissed his forehead.

“I love this, Bryce.—She whispered while melting in his embrace—“You really outdid yourself. This is perfect.”

“Just like you, Elle.

______

Chapter 6.

#Bryce Lahela #Bryce x MC #Choices Stories You Play #Open Heart

37 notes · View notes

cheseyre · 4 years

Text

good news, sluts! my brain's no longer being completely stupid (only mostly), i've seen the new asides and...have some thought-y thot thoughts:

*deep inhale*

Okay, first things first: this art style is soooo fucking cUTE and I'm a jealous, squealing bitch. Anyone who knows who the artist is, could you link me to them, stat? I think Thomas mentioned them at the beginning of the ep, but nYeh, brain hurt, doesn't wanna do wooork-

Okay, I'll admit, I was a little...apprehensive when I first saw the thumbnail and title. Part of it's just me being a bitter Remus Stan, but also...okay, deep breaths, controversial opinion time, get ready:

I don't ship Prinxiety.

Like, at all.

I can see the appeal, and these dorks were so very, VERY cute in this particular ep, but I was honestly turned off by the ship long ago due to how overwhelmingly popular it is and how some fans characterize these two and treat this relationship as if it's the only valid one, y'know, the works—slight tangent, but that's also why I don't ship Logicality or Remile. I honestly vibe much better with ships like Roceit or Analogical, y'know?

Cutting in for another brief tangent: I'm surprisingly okay with Demus/Dukeceit/Receit/Trashnoodle/Whatever-Their-Ship-Name-Is-Oh-God-Why-Do-They-Have-So-Many-Fucking-Names; maybe it's cause they haven't actually interacted in canon and the fan content gives me such good Gay Disney Villain content, idk man im weird—).

Still, their interactions were both hilarious and sweet and like I said, I see the appeal, it's just not my cup of tea. y'all Prinxiety fans got fucking FED and I'm happy for you nerds. Enjoy ze happy boys!

I guess another factor in my...low-key hesitance when I first saw what the ep was about is that...okay, get ready, another controversial opinion, le gasp: well, I'm not a big Virgil fan. In fact, at times, he swaps places with Patton as my least favorite sides—especially with some of his recent behavior in eps like DWIT (the "prohibit your breathing comment" really triggered me, for example). Sometimes, his attitude, especially around other sides like Roman or Janus, reminds me a little too much of my sister, who I don't have...a very good relationship with. Add to that how the more...intense side of the fandom has a disturbing tendency to turn him into the 'uwu precious woobie emo baby who can do no wrong' while unnecessarily villainizing other CERTAIN sides in the process, and...I think you all see where I'm going with this little rant 😅

However, upon actually watching the ep, he wasn't...that bad? I don't think? I enjoyed watching him be a flustered, disaster-y mess and genuinely excited at the end, his interactions with Roman were nice enough, and him literally pushing Thomas to make a move with Nico despite his obvious panic attack was a nice moment of genuine character development. I like seeing that, that's the good shit right there. And him being all flustered and shit, and smiling so much at the end of the vid was just...well, adorable. This man has no fucking right to be this cute, my god

alsoooo

pURPLE EYESHADOW

PURPLE EYESHADOW HE LOOKS?? SO GOOD?? WTF?? SLAY EMO, SLAAAAAAAY FUCK, DOES THIS MEAN I HAVE TO CHANGE MY HALLOWEEN COSTUME NOW?

alsoooo

hAPPY ROMAN

YESSSSS~ MAH BOI MAH SON MAH DUMB BITCH HIMBO PRINCE MAH EXTRA MESSY CINNAMON ROLL

ITS BEEN SO LONG

AND HIS LITTLE HEART EYES THROUGHOUT THE VID, OH MY GOD-

IMMA JUST IGNORE THAT "ADDING [MISTAKE] TO THE LIST" COMMENT I AM LOOKING AWAY I DO NOT SEE IT LALALALALA

THOMATHY, SIR, YOU HAVE NO RIGHT MAKING THESE TWO GAY IDIOTS SO BAEBY

Okay, but Virgil not realizing that "cyberstalking in real life" is literally just stalking is both a big ass mood and further proof that, yes, Logan is indeed the only one holding the braincell out of this disaster of a lot. God help them all if he ducks out in the next ep.

👀

And Thomas x Trash Can is my new OTP. I dub thee ✨ "Trashmas" ✨

we sTAN TRASHMAS

Wait, does that mean Remus actually WAS in the ep? Cause, y'know, trash man?

hmmm

👀 👀

Okay, okay.

With how much Virgil and Roman were going off about Thomas constantly lying, I was (understandably) a tad bit disappointed my snek son didn't even make a fucking cameo, but y'know what? In hindsight, I'm okay with this it's fineee~

He was just off playing with shadow puppets and stealing money from us desperate, content-starved peasants with his sheer extra-ness and, honestly? Gotta respect the hustle.

Get that precious, precious coin, dapper snake! Wring us poor losers dryyyy!

*evil snek laugh*

Also, this is a breather ep and adding Janus in probably would've caused unnecessary drama with the Roceit breakup and the constant antagonism between Virgil and him. It probably would've distracted from the point of the ep (flirting with social anxiety, exactly what it says in the tin)—much like it wasn't really Virgil or Remus's place to show up during POF. Does that make sense? I think it makes sense. Sorry, brain going brr-

Still, I can't believe the "Fuck Janus Sanders" Club is actually canon now 😂

God, first Patton in a skirt and now this.

Thomas Sanders, you delight in fucking feEDING this gremlin nest of a fanbase, don’t you? You RELISH our screams of joy and pain and suffering, dON’T YOU?

What's next, actual canonical Janus and Remus interaction? Patton saying the fuck word? The Dragon Witch comes back? Janus's bowler hat gains sentience and takes over the world, Doris-style? What do you have planned, Thomas? Joan? WHAT ART THOU PLANNING, I MUST KNOW YOU HEATHENS YOU FIENDS-

And Virgil's little "would it be fair to him" comment, tho.

👀

Like, I get in the context of the ep, he was likely talking about Nico and how it wouldn’t be good for a potential relationship with Tomas to be founded on lies, but still...my anxceit heart aches, man.

Gimme that sweet, sweet angst with a side of mutual regret and possible future reconciliation and maybe something more wink wink nudge nudge on top, pls

...and fries.

Honestly, tho, that entire bathroom monologue was fucking beautiful, man. And relatable, too—i can't tell you how many times I've talked to myself in public restrooms because I just didn't know how to get the words I wanted to say out. It's...kind of embarrassing, tbh

Speaking of embarrassing, uh, crying stall guy.

Just...

Crying Stall Guy

Like, I was expecting someone to come out the bathroom stall after Thomas stopped talking, but...I honestly wasn't expecting that. God, that whole scene was so cringe worthy and fucking hilarious

Honestly, Thomas in the ep in general was a huge ass mOOD and we collective gay/bi disasters ALL related with him, and if you say you don't, you're either lying to yourself or a demon.

There is no in between

sorry I don't make the rules

Like, I get this series is literally a gay disaster talking to himself for thirty minutes or longer, but like- EMPHASIS on the 'disaster' part 😂

Like...Thomas, you're lucky you're such a goddamn bean, because GOD, I cringing so hard when he first started talking to Nico

Although, I too have apologized profusely for genuine mistakes and am a flustered bi mess around my crush sooo

😅

And god, Roman's "thirty = old man" jokes made me feel old...and I literally just turned twenty, like, come on, man!

Maybe that's because I was literally watching this ep after finishing my ACT and had been sitting with a bunch of high schoolers, with their tiny fucking desks and tiny fucking water fountains smeh

*clears throat*

Anyways, uh, we STAN Nico Pintrovert Florés in this house

He gives me such big Carlos from WTNV vibes for some reason and this makes me sooo happy

and YESS, he's a WRITER

And he's??? So sweet?? A pure bean?? Just sits on his laptop at the mall food court all day, like a god-fucking iCON?? A Nightmare Before Christmas fan?? weARS GLASSES??

my hEART

*cries*

The fandom seems torn between "Nicomas" and "Karrot Kings" as a ship name atm—personally speaking, I'm casting my vote for the latter

*crosses fingers* please dont be another janus x remus multiple ship name issue guys, please please please I can't keep track of them all-

*clears throat*

On that note, I'm guess I'm gonna go try and whoo over my crush with carrots now. If THIS disaster can do it and make it actually fucking work, god damnit, so cAN I

Meanwhile, in hell, my brain's just screaming "CANON LOVE INTEREST CANON LOVE INTEREST CANON LOVE INTEREST-"

God, I hope Nico isn't just a one-shot character, he's too pure and Thomas and him are adorable gay Disney fans and I stan

Oh, I wonder how the other sides'll react to him.

Wait.

Oh god.

This ep just unleashed a new fresh hell of potential Nico x Sides ships, hasn't it?

Welp, time to prepare for ze incoming flood of fanfics, I guess. I'll get my umbrella and rain boots.

That last shot of Virgil during the endcard was so fucking ominous oh my god mom im scared can you come pick me up-

Goddammit, Thomas and Joan, I'm NOT fucking ready to be traumatized again, fUCK

I wish I wasn't a broke ass university student so I could contribute to Thomas's gloriously extra Patreon—both so I can support my favorite content creators who make this amazing blessed content and also, to join my boi Janus in fucking destroying society by giving money to the people who actually deserve it, fuck YOU GOVERNMENT-

Okay.

New headcanon time as to why Patton, Remus, and Logan weren't in the ep: they were helping Jan film that Patreon promotional video.

Remus directed it, Logan helped with the lighting and script, and Patton was just there as the cheerleader.

The reason Janus made a dog with shadow puppets wasn't just to flaunt his deity status and prove how he is truly above us mere wretched mortals

despite that being the absolute truth and we all know it, don't lie to yourselves

No, it was really him trying to do something cute and silly for Patton, because Moceit rights, daMMIT

*inhales*

noww

guys, gals, and nonbinary pals

it’s time forr

the most wonderful time of the yearrr

WAITING FOR THE NEXT EPISODE

Step right up, folks! Hear ye, hear ye, my prediction for the next episode: Prinxiety v. Moceit! With special guest stars: Karrot Kings vibing in adorable gay and Intrulogical, bitter at being excluded aGAIN

Who will win? Who will lose?

here’s a hint: we all will because in this sick twisted game they are no winners only losers-

Place your bets, folks! ✨

Haha im not readyyy~

tl;dr

this episode has cleared my skin, watered my crops, and ended my suffering—an adorable calm before the... angsty fucking shitstorm that’s coming far too soon. Prinxiety stans, enjoy your food. Place an 'F' in the chat for me and my fellow grieving Remus stans. Trashmas is the true OTP, but Karrot Kings is cute too I guess. I've only had Nico Florés for 24 minutes, but if anything happens to him, I'll kill everyone in this room and then myself. Purple eyeshadow Virgil makes me question my sexuality aGAIN, and happy gay disney prince rights y'all. Say a big ole 'fuck you' to capitalism by giving your local dapper snake moneys. Concussion makes brain go brr and imma go buy some carrots and be gay now.

psst hey @quarantinevibes2020 you wanna join me in being disaster-y? i’ll bring my best gay stare and you bring the wine

Until next time, my lovelies! ~ Ches 🖤

25 notes · View notes

dreamcatcherfication · 4 years

Text

Dreamers in Fantasyland - Part 2

So this wasn’t supposed to come out today, but I didn’t have anything else to post, so here it is! Just know that things only intensify from this chapter on. You will get no break, it’s all going down. I wrote this entire four part fic at 4 AM and that’s why everything is on crack. Don’t blame me, blame my insomnia. But anyway, I hope you enjoy! Sorry for any spelling/grammatical errors, my writing teachers are on holiday and I don’t fit in a suitcase.

Writing Masterpost

If you want to send a request or a prompt, my inbox is always open! I publish a story at 8:00 AM PST everyday, so I’m always in need of new ideas. If you want to be tagged in my works, just let me know and I’ll be sure to tag you!

Prompts | More Prompts | The Trifecta of Prompts | Original Prompts

Trigger Warnings: Sword fighting, stabbing, blood, murder (nothing too graphic)

Part 1

When Anne and Anna said they would be ‘kidnapping’ Cathy and Kat, Cathy assumed they meant to some secret abandoned church where they would sit around and wait for ransom. No, turns out, that is not what they meant by kidnapping.

“So pirates huh,” Cathy commented as she rocked back and forth in the lower deck of the ship. Kat was sitting next to her, laying her head softly on Cathy’s shoulder as the boat swayed. Anna and Anne were also with them, looking through maps they had set out on a large table.

Anne hummed in confirmation without so much as glancing at Cathy. “Indeed milady. Although you don’t hear much of us in your little palace, do you?” It wasn’t that Cathy didn’t believe pirates existed, she just didn’t believe that Anne was one of them. It seemed so absurd to her.

Anna looked up from the maps and quirked an eyebrow when she noticed Kat staring at her. The girl turned her head away, refusing to make eye contact with the pirate. Cathy didn’t miss their interaction, but she chose to ignore it. “I didn’t think your kidnapping plot was so serious.”

“Oh we’re always serious,” Anna flashed a brilliantly white smile, something that shouldn’t have been possible for a girl who likely only ate pheasant and drank mead by the gallon.

This was already going horribly wrong. Cathy and Kat were being held for the ransom of the princess even though neither of them actually mattered in court. Things could only get worse if they continued to lie, and Kat knew that more than Cathy expected her to. “I’m not Princess Mary,” she blurted out, then put her hands over her mouth in surprise.

Anna and Anne froze before turning around to look at her. “What do you mean you’re not Princess Mary?” Anne spoke through gritted teeth. “Of course you are! We found you in your bedchambers wearing your royal garments,” Anne ripped off her hat and threw it against the wall. She took a few deep breaths, attempting to calm herself down. “Cleves, if you’d talk to the princess for me, I would be very grateful.”

“Sure Capt’n,” Anna tipped an imaginary hat and walked up to Cathy and Kat. Cathy put an arm around Kat, making sure Anna couldn’t get to her. Anna’s face softened at the protective act, so she glanced back at Anne before leaning in and telling Cathy, “I promise I won’t hurt her, but you gotta let me talk with her.”

Reluctantly, Cathy pulled her arm away and allowed Kat to stand up. The girl didn’t seem as nervous as she should be, but Cathy attributed it to the strange familiarity that was pungent in the room. She was sure the others must have felt it too. For some reason, with the four of them all together, everything seemed to calm down. The violent rocking of the boat had mellowed out and the presence of the swords didn’t seem to bother anyone. It was so natural for a situation that was so - well - unnatural.

Anna and Kat left the room together, and Cathy groaned into her hands. She wanted to be back with her girlfriend in the 21st century, not this swashbuckling - admittedly attractive - version of Anne Boleyn. Eyes widening, an epiphany hit Cathy. “Anne Boleyn,” she tried, seeing if it would provoke a reaction from the pirate.

Immediately, Anne’s spine straightened and she whipped around to stare at Cathy. “How do you know my name?”

“I thought you were a famous pirate,” Cathy covered up, hoping it would convince Anne.

Narrowing her eyes, Anne took a step closer to Cathy. “I may not be a courtier but I’m not an idiot. Barely five minutes ago you were surprised to hear we are pirates, and you’ve already lied once before about knowing my name. So tell me what you know before I pull out my blade.”

Cathy didn’t like seeing the girl she loved so much glare at her with such hatred. “Do you know the name Katherine Howard?”

A fond, nostalgic haze came over Anne for a second before she was jerked back into reality. “I haven’t heard that name in a long time. How do you know her?” It had only been for a second, but Cathy had seen the Anne Boleyn she knew peak out.

“That girl you think is Princess Mary? She’s my friend Katherine Howard. You’ve got the wrong girls,” Cathy explained.

Cracking her knuckles, Anne restrained herself from punching the wall. Of course it made sense that the princess seemed so familiar, of course there was a reason Anne knew something was wrong. “If you’re Anne Boleyn,” Cathy spoke up, breaking Anne away from her thoughts, “that means that girl out there,” she pointed to the door where Anna and Kat had left through, “is your cousin.”

“Yes,” Anne admitted, staring at the wall. Cathy was standing behind her, watching. “But it’s been a long time since I’ve seen anyone from that family, or mine.” She turned around and faced Cathy. “I don’t know how you know who I am, but I’m going to figure it out. What’s your name.”

Staring Anne directly in the eyes, Cathy hoped against all reality that her name would mean something to Anne. “Catherine Parr.”

Anna led Kat to a room beside where Cathy and Anne were staying. It wasn’t much worse than the other room, but it was clearly less spacious and well kept. “So, Miss Not-Princess-Mary,” Anna started, leaning against the wall, “Who are you really?”

Kat was unable to look in Anna’s eyes. She didn’t know what caused her to act the way she did, but seeing those eyes made her chest feel strange in a way it never had before. “If I tell you, will you promise not to kill me?”

The blunt laughter that came from Anna’s mouth made Kat feel embarrassed at her comment. “No, here we aren’t ruthless. You won’t see us killing unless we have to, and we tend to treat even our prisoners as humanly as possible. You’ll be safe here.”

Letting out a small sigh of relief, Kat started to wring her hands together. “I’m Katherine Howard, but everyone I know calls me Kat.”

“Beautiful name for a beautiful girl,” Anna continued to flirt. There was something about Kat that Anna couldn’t place. It was right on the tip of her tongue but no matter how hard she tried to figure it out, she never could. So instead, Anna let the feeling pass and continued to ‘interrogate’ Kat. “And why were you in the Princess’s chambers if you’re not her?”

Guiltily hiding behind her hair, Kat coughed lightly. “I was bringing her a gift for her return to court. Me and Cathy - the other girl with me -” she clarified, “brought it directly to her bedchambers.” Kat’s cheeks grew red as she admitted, “I wanted to try on her clothes, only to see what they would feel like. We thought one of the guards was knocking on the door, so I pretended to be Princess Mary.”

“But you’re not?”

“I’m not,” Kat shook her head, staring at her feet. “I imagine I’d be much more composed if I was,” she muttered.

Scoffing, Anna put her fingers on the top of her sword handle. “I don’t think I would’ve liked to have some stuck up princess here with me. You’re much better company, Kat.”

“Thank you, Miss Cleves,” Kat said as she tucked a fly away hair behind her ear.

Blanching at the name, Anna shook her head. “No, call me Anna. Or Cleves. No Miss here. We show respect to the captain, but the rest of us are equal. Besides, I can’t be much older than you anyway.”

“Well okay,” Kat tested out the name, “Anna. Thank you for not holding me at sword point.”

Shrugging, Anna crossed her arms over her chest. “It’s the least I could do for a guest.”

“Don’t you mean prisoner?”

“Well seeing as we have no reason to ransom you and your friend, I don’t see why there’s any need for that. You’re an… unwitting traveler,” Anna supplied.

Before Kat could reply, the ship was rocked by a giant force that caused Kat to go running into the wall and books to fly off the center table. “What was that?” Kat gasped. Another rock to the boat, and this time they could make out the faint sound of battle cries.

Anna’s eyes widened with horror. “We’re being attacked.”

“What?” Kat yelled.

Rushing out of the room, Anna made her way to where Anne and Cathy were, Kat trailing behind her. Anne was already out the door, her sword drawn with Cathy standing behind her. “Do you know who’s attacking?” Anne asked, her accent thicker.

“I think you know who it is,” Anna replied.

Turning around, Anne put a hand on Cathy’s shoulder and another on Kat’s. Cathy would’ve appreciated the gesture if it didn’t mean a sword was being held inches from her face. “Listen, they’re here for you two. He’s been chasing us for a while, knowing about our plan to kidnap the princess. He’s going to try and take you onto his ship so he can have you as his prize.”

“But we just got here!” Kat yelled in distress.

Holding up a hand, Cathy asked, “Who’s he?”

By the hard set faces she was greeted with, Cathy was afraid she already knew the answer. “Henry.”

The sea deck was an absolute battle zone. Anne’s crew was practically indistinguishable from Henry’s, their sailors stabbing at anything that dared come within slashing distance of their swords. “This isn’t good,” Anne muttered in a panic.

“Here!” Anna called over the chaos, tossing two swords to Cathy and Kat.

Looking down at the blade in her hand, Cathy shouted, “We’re fighting?”

“We need every man we can get!” Anna replied before diving into the thick of it.

She and Anne were already fighting as many rival pirates as they could, tossing their bodies to the floor as they passed. Cathy turned around and grabbed Kat’s hand. “You stay here and try to fend off anyone who tries to come for you. Scream if you need me.”

“I can do this, Cathy,” Kat stated resolutely, gripping the sword tightly.

Nodding at Kat, Cathy ran across the boat, dodging swords and bodies in order to get to Anne’s side. Anna had disappeared, lost in a swarm of bodies, but Anne was still visible with her signature green hat. A man came up behind Anne and raised his sword high, but Cathy stabbed him through the back before he could harm Anne. Spinning around, Anne managed to witness the pirate falling to the ground, dead. “Nice save,” Anne called, an informal thanks.

Putting her back to Anne’s, Cathy held her sword up with both hands and started blocking incoming attacks. “Someone has to watch your back.”

“Yes, well this is certainly unprecedented,” Anne grunted as she shoved a pirate away from her before running him through.

Slashing at a passing enemy, Cathy responded, “This was not the way I was expecting things to GO!” She screamed the last word, ducking under the blade of a pirate. He narrowly chopped her head off with his swing, but only succeeded in getting her off balance.

“Anne Boleyn!” came a booming voice from among the pirates. The fighting didn’t cease, but Anne turned her attention to the man who was calling her out.

“Henry Tudor, Bastard Sailor,” she answered him, grabbing one of his men by the hair and stabbing him straight through the chest. She swung the blade to the side, causing blood to go flying on the wood of the ship.

Henry’s beard had grown since the last time Anne saw him. Not to mention he had grown fatter, but that was to be expected from him. Cathy tried her best to ward off attacking pirates as Anne diverted her attention to the rival captain. “You’ve come for the girls on my ship?” Anne yelled at him, “Then you’ve come for me.”

Brandishing his sword, Henry revealed his yellowing teeth. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.” And with that, their blades clashed, the sounds echoing louder than any of the other fights around them. Cathy could only watch helplessly out of the corner of her eye as Anne battled the powerful captain.

Anne took the offensive, swinging quickly at Henry from different angles. It was impossible for Henry to keep up with Anne’s blows, and he only managed to parry the first few. When nicks and cuts started appearing over his body, Henry shifted the game and batted Anne’s sword away the next time it came at him. He shoved her back, putting her off balance and creating an open window for himself. Henry took the butt of his sword and hit Anne over the head, causing her to go tumbling to the ground. He stabbed downwards, attempting to impale Anne, but she rolled out of the way at the last moment.

Kicking the back of Henry’s knee, Anne watched the man’s leg give out and send him to the floor. As Anne moved to give Henry a killing blow, Henry spun around and grabbed Anne’s sword with his hand. He was wearing leather gloves, something Anne hadn’t noticed, so the blade didn’t cut into his skin. Bringing the sword up, he and Anne were in a battle of strength as to who would be able to control the sword.

Before either of them could discover the winner, the sword snapped in half. The weapon clattered uselessly to the ground, leaving Anne defenseless. “Shit,” Anne growled, looking for anything she could use to defend herself. But it was too late. Henry slammed his sword down against Anne’s skull, knocking her to the ground. While she wasn’t completely unconscious, Anne’s head was spinning and she couldn’t see clearly.

“Anne!” Cathy yelled to the captain, rushing through men to try and reach her. When Cathy was halfway to Anne, a scream stopped her in her tracks.

As she spun around, Cathy saw Kat on the other side of the boat being manhandled by some of Henry’s pirates. Her sword was lying on the ground next to a body, but the men had managed to restrain Kat and were pulling her away. “Cathy!” Kat screamed, kicking at the men who had their grasp on her.

Stuck with an impossible decision, Cathy didn’t know which way to go. She could save the girl that was supposed to be her girlfriend, the pirate who - despite kidnapping and threatening her - still had a piece of her heart. Or she could save the friend she cherished so deeply, the girl that had been helping her since she woke up in this strange reality. Right as Cathy made her decision, two arms grabbed her by the shoulder’s and hauled her backwards. “Let me go!” Cathy screamed, but she was stopped by Anna who wrapped a hand around her mouth.

“They’re leaving, we have to let them go or they will kill us all,” Anna ordered Cathy, pulling her away from the bloody scene. There were still battles going on, but most of Henry’s pirates were retreating back to their ship now that they had their prize.

Henry had Anne in his grip, and his men were carrying Kat to the other boat already. “You’re just going to let him take them?” Cathy was gobsmacked. “You’ll let him take your captain and an innocent girl?”

“What choice do I have?” Anna shouted, stabbing her sword into the wood floor of the boat. Grabbing her own wrist to hide the shaking of her hands, Anna sighed. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to yell.” Taking in a deep breath, Anna exhaled and attempted to regain what was left of her composure. “We try to stop Henry and our entire crew dies. We let him leave with his prizes, and maybe we stand a fighting chance of saving them.”

Gritting her teeth, Cathy kicked the side of the boat. “I don’t like this Cleves.”

“Neither do I.” The two girls watched as Henry’s boat started to sail away from theirs, heading for the nearest harbor. “But we’ll get them back. I promise we will.”

------------------------------------------

Tag List:

@theatergirl06@radcowboyalmondtree@boleynhowards@annabanana2401@babeebobo@dont-lose-your-queerhead@everything-insanity@mindless-pidgeon@i-wanna-dance-and-sing-six@thedemidisaster@its-totes-gods-will

#six the musical fanfiction #six the musical fanfic #six the musical fic #six fanfiction #six fanfic #sixfic #dreamers in fantasyland #pirate au #i can't even believe i wrote this #if you think this is wild #just wait for the next two chapters #i keep forgetting to tag #parrlyn #or is it supposed to be #parrleyn #katanna

84 notes · View notes

rivalsforlife · 4 years

Note

"Eventually Miles said, “Do you want to know when it happened, when I realized it, or when I came to terms with it?” / “You have three answers?” / “Technically four. Don’t be a hypocrite, you rejected me even though you were in love with me —”" and the rest of the scene if you want to haha, not a lot fits in the ask box :P

Alright!! I’ll do... most of the scene haha, there is one part of the scene I really want to point out, so I’ll once again put this under a keep reading so I don’t take up all this space on people’s dashboards...

Okay!

So basically this part of the scene existed because... I kind of wanted to touch on Miles’ perspective throughout this entire fic as well as a handful of headcanons for Miles and also so that I could fit in a bunch of narumitsu fluff in there somewhere, since my notes for this chapter were pretty much to just shove as much fluff as possible to make up for the rest of it.

In some ways I’m kind of regretting talking about Miles’ perspective because that reduces some of my flexibility for possibly rewriting this fic entirely from Miles’ perspective OR the handful of jumbled scenes that could potentially form a sequel someday... but honestly writing has been like pulling teeth lately so who knows if that will happen at all. Either way I’m sure I’ll be able to get it to work somehow. (Also kind of... directly pointing out what Miles was feeling when it probably would’ve been a better decision to leave it implicit but WHATEVER TOO LATE NOW --)

“When did you fall in love with me?”

Miles didn’t say anything, and Phoenix might have thought he fell asleep again if it weren’t for his breathing. It didn’t line up with what Phoenix had learned from experience, when Miles fell asleep.

Eventually Miles said, “Do you want to know when it happened, when I realized it, or when I came to terms with it?”

“You have three answers?”

when you’re Miles Edgeworth emotions are waaaaay more complicated than they need to be huh. Since this scene was just Dumping Ground For My Headcanons they for the most part tend to line up with what I think most of the time, buuut I might go into more detail a little later.

“Technically four. Don’t be a hypocrite, you rejected me even though you were in love with me —”

Phoenix shushed him by clapping a hand over his mouth, except he missed in the dark and slapped Miles’ nose instead. “Whoops! Sorry. Okay. Give me all four.”

aww see they can laugh about it now like Miles didn’t cry for several hours after the rejection :’)

“I should have guessed,” Miles sighed. He used the hand not currently squished against his side by Phoenix’s entire body to hold Phoenix’s hand, guiding it down from his face and holding it against his chest.

This is me trying to find a way to write affection in a way that isn’t totally awkward... uh so basicallyyyy I am not a very affectionate person and I don’t think Miles is particularly big on physical affection most of the time, so when I write him trying to express affection I typically go for subtler things... like hand-holding and such, because I think even that much would be a pretty big deal for him when it wouldn’t be for some other people.

Pretty much every time in this fic he initiates any form of physical touch (which is pretty often because he is attempting to Court Phoenix (ba dum tshhh)) it’s something that he’s deliberately thought through and deliberately initiated, as opposed to like... Phoenix who does it more unconsciously. (And of course not all of Miles’ initiation of physical affection is strictly romantic, I like to headcanon him making an effort towards platonic physical affection as well towards his friends + found family members... just putting this here to cover my bases so no one thinks every time Miles puts his hand on someone’s shoulder he’s flirting with them haha that’s NOT what I was going for, more that he’s aware that lots of people enjoy physical contact and see that as a way of expressing affection, and he’s trying to get better at expressing affection, and Phoenix happens to be one of those people he is expressing affection to, in both the platonic and romantic sense.)

(That was a very long paragraph for literally one sentence about affection hahahaha...)

“Well, I am fairly sure I had a crush on you in fourth grade.”

“No, you didn’t. I had a crush on you in fourth grade, I changed my whole career for you because of it. You were in love with your law books.”

“I told you I ‘liked’ you and you started talking about girls.”

“O-Okay, sorry I didn’t know about bisexuality when I was nine, give me a break here.”

I waver back and forth on whether Miles had a little baby crush on Phoenix in fourth grade or not, I guess when I wrote this I was feeling that way! Anyways this line is referencing the flashback part of chapter 3:

“Do you like anyone, Miles?”

Miles blinked. “I like you.”

Phoenix’s face reddened. “N-No, I meant like-like. You know, like a girl.”

Miles looked at the ground, and his face was red as well.

this fic would have been over with SO MUCH FASTER if Phoenix actually knew what he meant there --

My interpretation is pretty much always that Phoenix had a little baby crush on Miles in fourth grade, but it wasn’t until he got older that he realized that it was a crush and not just pure idolization -- which was definitely part of it too, and I could probably write thousands of words on how baby Phoenix’s idolization crush on Miles when he was younger shaped some of their interactions throughout the trilogy but I’m not going to get into that now. I thiiink I said in this fic somewhere that Phoenix didn’t realize he was bi until he was in his teens, so baby Phoenix just thought that Miles was His Best Friend Who He Wants To Hang Out With All The Time And Hold Hands With And If Miles Were A Girl Phoenix Would Want To Kiss Him, and at some point adult Phoenix remembers this train of thought and goes “... wait.”

As for Miles, in the universe of this fic he figures out that he’s gay pretty young, probably largely influenced by Larry talking constantly about girls while Miles complains to his father “I don’t know why Larry’s talking about how pretty [girl of the day] is, I think Phoenix has a nicer smile” while Gregory tries to pretend his laughter is him choking on his dinner. And I think Gregory was an excellent father who loved and supported his son, and probably talked about it a bit with him and made sure Miles knew he was always loved and supported no matter what and --

Anyways, there’s that.

The next paragraphs are mostly them talking about the situations where Miles did fall in love with Phoenix (Turnabout Goodbyes) and then realized it (after Farewell, My Turnabout/ when Phoenix fell off the bridge) then kind of... repressed it until post-canon because he didn’t think he was ready yet and they weren’t really in the right place. I don’t have much to say about it because it’s all pretty straightforward stuff...

Then Phoenix deflects Miles asking about when he fell in love, because Phoenix is still struggling a bit with expressing his emotions this way haha. Also because he was in denial for a really long time so he can’t quite pinpoint exact moments aside from “the moment Miles stood up for him during the class trial”, but much like Miles he’s probably had multiple realizations of love throughout his life.

My personal headcanons though is that Phoenix genuinely thought he was just helping out a friend throughout the trilogy... and then sometime during disbarment, possibly during one of those Europe trips, he realizes “oh crap I loved him the whole time”. Obviously in this fic Phoenix doesn’t realize he’s in love with Miles until the cherry blossom petals scene at the end of chapter 4 and then can’t quite articulate that feeling as love rather than more general attraction until the end of chapter 8 after reading Trucy’s note. (Where the last psyche-lock breaks!)

What I DO want to talk about though is this line at the end of the scene:

“It doesn’t matter when I realized it,” Phoenix whispered. “What matters most is that we’re here, together, now.”

No one’s pointed it out so idk if it was too subtle or too obvious that it didn’t need pointing out, but it’s a callback to this line in chapter 4:

Edgeworth stared at him with an unreadable expression, almost curious. “Well, you don’t have to say anything,” he said. “What matters most is that I can be here with you now.”

It’s a very slight difference in the last part of the dialogue, but an important one!!

I had an interesting conversation with my best friend a while ago... long story short her brother was in a relationship for a long time with this one woman then they broke up and now he’s engaged to a different woman, and they dated for a shorter time than the first. And my friend says that she and her family knew that this was a different relationship and that she was “the one” because the way they talked about doing things was different -- more of a “we’re going to do [x]” rather than “she and I are going to do [x]”. This probably isn’t really a real thing so like... don’t use it to judge relationships around you... but I thought it was pretty neat.

So in the conversation in chapter 4, Miles says “What matters most is that I can be here with you now”, which is still like exceptionally romantic, but it still sees the two of them as separate entities -- whereas Phoenix in chapter 9 saying “What matters most is that we’re here, together, now” sort of phrases the two of them as more of a unit. ... not that they’re not still separate entities with their own lives outside of just each other of course but you know. you know. just having some fun with sentences!

Anyways that’s what I really wanted to talk about... I hope you enjoyed!!

#dvd commentary meme #the catch-up game #asks

12 notes · View notes

just-my-sickly-pride · 5 years

Text

The Old College Try || Brian May x fem!Reader

PLEASE NOTE: THIS IS A RE-UPLOAD OF A FIC THAT I POSTED LAST YEAR TO A DIFFERENT BLOG. I DID NOT STEAL THIS; IT’S MINE. The version on my other blog has since been made private. Minor changes have been made.

summary || of all the new experiences you thought you’d have in your time at college, falling into an extended friends-with-benefits situation was not one of them - but you wouldn’t have changed it for the world. you and Brian had tried every kinky thing you could think of. except calling Brian ‘daddy’, of course, because, y’know, bleugh. you both thought the idea of that was gross. so gross. right? modern day au. college au.

rating || explicit. 18+ only. do not read if you are under eighteen. there’s a bit of what i’d like to call platonic fluff? but mostly smut. daddy kink, choking, some slight dom/sub dynamics, but not much.

word count || 6.9k. this was clearly written back when i actually used to write reasonably-sized fics.

author’s notes || i’m re-uploading this because i have a part two written and ready to be uploaded. i’m sorry the gif below is so big but it’s just too pretty!

masterlist

If someone had told you that, within the first few months of starting university, you’d have made a new friend who would quickly become more than a friend, you’d have said that that someone had no idea what they were talking about. You weren’t interested in dating, at least not at this point in your life. You just wanted to focus on university, at least for the first year.

If that someone had clarified what they’d meant by ‘more than a friend’, you would’ve been equally as confused.

Well, maybe not that confused. You’d been attracted to Brian the second you’d first clapped eyes on him, when he’d asked if the seat next to you was taken in your second lecture of the day. In fact, after that first hour, you’d thought you’d probably develop a crush on him — but, surprisingly, you didn’t, even after the two of you became friends. Great friends, actually. You shared similar interests, and you could talk for hours about absolutely anything. He was good fun to argue with over silly, trivial things, like where the best place to keep ketchup was, or whether it was acceptable to drink wine out of a cup. And he was always open for late-night conversations about life and the universe. And you loved making him cringe. Your favourite way to do it was to say that his love of animals revealed he was actually a furry. Or saying that he had a foot fetish. You found it hilarious how easy he was to wind up. He did not.

So yes, above all else, you were friends.

You’d just added a little something extra to the mix along the way.

You couldn’t remember how exactly the whole ‘with-benefits’ component to your friendship had started, but you could remember very clearly when: three months into uni, into being friends, and you’d both been at a mutual friend’s party. You’d both been drinking, and you’d been flirting, like you always seemed to be, and then, next thing you knew, you were making out. You’d spent the rest of the night making out, actually, and then Brian had come back to yours, where’d you’d made out even more, but with less clothing. You hadn’t slept together, but you’d fallen asleep in the same bed.

And the next day, things had seemed… completely normal. Nothing had seemed to change between you two at all. It wasn’t as if either of you pretended the night before hadn’t happened, but more that it just didn’t need to be something really that worthy of note. It had happened, it had been fun, and that was all there was to it.

The next time you two had gotten drunk — at your place, playing a dumb drinking game while watching Zootopia, of all things — the same thing had happened. Except, this time, you’d gone all the way. And it had been great. No awkwardness, no pressure to impress. The next day, again, the dynamic had remained the same.

So, after a brief conversation to clarify things, you’d settled on friends-with-benefits.

That had been two months ago. It wasn’t a secret, per se, but you weren’t exactly rushing to tell anyone. You actually had no idea how many people knew.

But what you did know was that, while neither of you had had a friends-with-benefits arrangement with anyone else before, you were both fucking good at it.

It hadn’t taken long at all for things to become more adventurous in the bedroom. Every time the two of you slept together — which, given that you were both young adults who had needs, was fairly often — you were experimenting, trying out new things, almost in competition to see who was the kinkiest.

Which was new, again, for both of you. You’d never thought of yourself as particularly kinky, and Brian had told you he’d never really considered anything more than just vanilla sex. But one day, during a lecture, you’d found yourself staring at his hands, and had wondered what they would feel like wrapped around your throat.

As it turned out, it felt incredible. And so had been just about everything that had followed after it.

You were staring at his hands now, as he fiddled with the lid of his water bottle. You were at lunch with your friends at uni, celebrating the end of a painful three-hour lecture, but you’d zoned out of the group conversation long ago.

Brian’s hand drifted down the side of the water bottle lightly, deliberately slowly, and you could tell without even looking at his face that he’d caught you staring. His fingers glided back up the water bottle, and curled around the top of it, and you chewed on the inside of your cheek.

Brian’s hand flexed around the water bottle, tightening, and you squeezed your thighs together. You shot a glance up to his face. He wasn’t looking at you, instead politely engaging in the conversation, but he had a small smile on his lips. He knew he was getting you hot under the collar with just the movements of his hands, and he was enjoying it immensely. You simultaneously hated that it was so easy for him to tease you, and loved that he enjoyed doing it.

You sighed, sitting back. “I’m just going to the bathroom,” you said, completely cutting off whoever was talking; you didn’t care.

You stood up, leaving your belongings there with your friends, and walked to the bathrooms. There were two sets of bathrooms: the food court ones that everyone used, and the much quieter ones that were in the building next door, down a corridor. There were no security cameras there, either. The bathrooms weren’t abandoned, exactly, but you could have about five to ten minutes of privacy if you were lucky.

You leant against the wall of the corridor, tugging on the sleeves of your shirt, rubbing your hands together, bubbling with nervous energy.

Brian rounded the corner an agonising two minutes later, and you said, “You’re a fucking menace,” before he grabbed your hips and pinned you against the wall, kissing you hungrily. You knew you had barely any time — not even a minute — before your friends started getting suspicious, so you made the most of it.

Well, the most of the twenty or so seconds you were given. Someone exited the bathroom, and you and Brian sprung apart from each other, and you looked down at your hands, pressing your lips together to stop yourself from laughing. The guy who’d left the bathroom mumbled, “Sorry,” and hurried past you.

You and Brian shared a glance, and then you started laughing. Brian covered his face with his hand, shaking his head. “I…” He sighed. “The number of times that we’ve gotten caught by strangers… And it never gets better. It’s always horribly awkward, every time.”

“Maybe we should just stop making out at uni then,” you said.

Brian lowered his hand, looking aghast. “That’s out of the question. What am I meant to do, wait till the end of the day?”

“Maybe we should,” you said with a shrug. “Maybe we should stop making out basically every day. It might make things more… rewarding. Or at least interesting.”

“I don’t think I could last an entire day,” Brian said. He rested his hand against your collarbones, applying just enough pressure to push you back into the wall, and his thumb moved to press against the front of your throat. Your lips parted instinctively. Brian’s eyes were on his hand — he’d told you that he liked how his hand looked against your skin — and your eyes were on his face. The concentration and heat in his gaze, coupled with the feeling of his hand, was enough to make you squirm with need.

But now was not the time, nor the place.

You sighed, letting your head fall back against the wall and your eyes slide closed. “Bri,” you said slowly, a warning.

“Mm?” Brian said, his warm voice low.

“We’re in public.” You opened your eyes, and lifted a hand, placing it on top of his, gently taking it away. “We have to go back.”

Brian was tense, his jaw clenched, and you smiled. “Come on,” you said. You spoke lightly, but you knew that Brian would obey you.

Brian breathed out sharply, and he turned away from you, rubbing his eyes with one hand. “Fuck, I want to fuck you so bad,” he growled. “Fuck.”

You felt that all through your body, but you just took his wrist and went to leave, dragging him after you. He stayed stuck to the floor, his eyes boring into yours, and you could see the gears turning in his brain, knew he was seriously considering grabbing you and taking you into one of the bathrooms.

You knew he wouldn’t. You both had limits, and actually fucking at uni was not on the table for either of you.

But still. The fact that Brian seemed damn near overwhelmed with desire — desire for you — made you feel like the most powerful motherfucker on the planet.

It also helped that you just tugged on his wrist again, just once, using barely any effort, and he became unstuck, following your direction without another word.

“Maybe later I can dig out the old furry suit,” you said as you headed back to the food court, making your voice as sensual as possible.

Brian snatched his wrist back as if in disgust, but you could tell he was trying not to laugh. “Jesus, you know how to kill the mood really fast.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” you said, blinking at him innocently. “Don’t you want to see me in my suit? It’s a badger one. I got it made just for you. I thought you’d love it.”

Brian shook his head. “I hate you so much.”

“Maybe we can try something even better tonight,” you said, giving him a pouty, sexy look that you knew looked ridiculous. “Something new. What do you say, Daddy?”

Brian’s step faltered, and the wildly taken-aback look on his face made you laugh. You skipped ahead, sliding back into your chair, and Brian joined you soon after.

A week later, you and Brian were in your dorm, books and textbooks and pens and laptops strewn all over the living room floor as you tried to study. Brian was always much more studious than you were, so it helped to have him there to steer you back to your books when your focus strayed. Unfortunately, having him there served as the worst distraction you could’ve had.

After about fifteen minutes of you mildly irritating him, flicking his pen as he tried to write, poking him in his side where he was most ticklish, making stupid noises at him and demanding some kind of response, he’d sent you to the kitchen to make a snack and get you both something to drink.

You hummed to yourself as you waited for the popcorn to microwave, scrolling through Instagram on your phone. You came across a horrifically awful meme, and you laughed. “Hey, Bri,” you called. “Dude.”

“What?” Brian replied from the living room.

“Come look at this meme. It’s the worst thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Just send it to me.”

“No, come look at it.”

You heard Brian sigh melodramatically, and soon he lumbered into the kitchen, stretching out the kinks in his muscles from sitting on the floor. “All right, show me.”

You showed him your phone, and he looked at it for a second, then his eyes flicked to you, accompanied with the most intense are you shitting me expression you’d ever seen on another human being. “That’s horrendous.”

You giggled. “I know.”

“I can’t believe I walked all the way in here for that.”

The microwave dinged, and you went to get the popcorn. You almost burnt your fingers, but you managed to get it out of the oven and peel it open.

“Ouch,” you said as you grabbed a few pieces and tossed them into your mouth. “Bri, open up.”

Brian opened his mouth, and you threw some popcorn at him, not aiming at all. It went all over him and the floor, and he sighed as you laughed. “God, you’re so fucking annoying,” he said, the corners of his mouth quirking up.

You shimmied your shoulders. “I know,” you said happily, trotting past him. You paused in the kitchen doorway to shimmy again, this time adding your hips, wiggling your butt at him, and then continued to the living room with the popcorn, getting comfy on the floor.

“You can’t just shake your arse at me,” Brian protested, following you. “That’s not fair.”

“You called me annoying,” you said. “I can do what I want.”

Brian groaned. “You’re so…” Before you knew it, he’d fallen to his knees beside you, snatched the popcorn bag from your hands, and captured your lips with his.

You still got a thrill when you kissed him, even after two months. It felt naughty, in a way, like there was something taboo about it. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that everyone else you knew was getting into relationships, or wanting to get into relationships, and your arrangement with Brian was the antithesis of that. Maybe it was because you wasted so much time doing it, when you should’ve been studying, or working on an essay. Maybe it was because you’d never been so physically attracted to another human being before that there had to be something wrong with you, didn’t there?

Brian kissed you deep, kisses that were slow and controlled and drove you insane. You tried to go for his jeans, but he straddled you and grabbed your wrists, pinning them to your sides. Every time you tried to take some of the power back, escalating things or speeding them up, Brian just didn’t rise to it, didn’t take the bait, and it was so frustrating you wanted to scream.

Brian pulled back just enough to end the kiss. You tried to continue, but he ducked his head, as if to kiss your neck, so you let your head fall back, but he just pressed a single, infuriatingly light kiss to your pulse point.

“Oh my God, I hate you,” you growled.

“Oh, I’m annoying you, am I?” Brian said, beyond smug, and you wanted to kick him in the ribs.

“You fucking… This is entirely different,” you said. “You—“

Brian licked a stripe up your neck, and you felt the air leave your lungs like it had been sucked out with a vacuum.

“You bitch,” you said, but it came out sounding breathless and needy.

Brian chuckled, and you felt him bite your neck, softly, teasing.

Your lust-addled brain was scrambling to find a way to get control of the situation, to not let Brian win, so you fell back on instinct: making Brian feel repulsed. “Are you imagining I’m a hedgehog? A sexy, spiky hedgehog?”

It worked a treat. Brian recoiled, letting your wrists go, his nose screwing up. “Why? Why do you do that?”

You leant into the bit, refusing to back down. “What about a fox?” you said, giving him a salacious smile, putting your hands on his chest. “Want me to put on National Geographic?”

“You disgust me,” Brian said, sounding more tired and exhausted than anything else, and it delighted you.

You leant forward, into him, smoothing your hands up his thighs, your lips hovering just over his. “What do you say, Daddy?”

Brian went very still. He swallowed.

You paused, confused by the lack of reaction, and pulled back. “What?”

Brian’s face was red. “That was… uh. Um.”

“Sorry,” you said. “Nickleback?”

It was your safeword. Nothing kills the mood like Nickleback, Brian had said when he’d suggested it.

“No,” Brian said stiffly. “Not Nickleback.”

Wait. “Did you… Do you like me calling you Daddy?”

Brian blinked, looking away, and he cleared his throat. “I— Well—“

You took a moment to consider this, and then, taking it slow, so Brian had time to refuse if he wanted to, you kissed his neck just the way he liked, and he let out a breathy moan, one of his hands coming to twist itself into your hair.

You slipped your hands under his shirt, your nails scratching up his back, and your kisses moved down his neck. You bit at the hollow of his throat, making him moan, and you murmured against his skin, “You gonna fuck me good, Daddy?”

Brian let out a shaky breath. “Jesus Christ.”

You broke out into a smile of victory — it was always a bonus to discover a new kink, whether it was yours or Brian’s — and Brian roughly pulled you away to tilt your head up towards him, and he kissed you so passionately it made your head spin.

As if you weren’t wet enough, he let go of your hair to wrap his hand around your throat, and your stomach leapt with anticipation. He began applying pressure, and it felt so fucking good that you stopped kissing him, just feeling the way your body reacted, the way your veins fizzled with adrenaline as your fight-or-flight instincts kicked in, the way your airway opened to try to suck in as much air as it could, even though Brian wasn’t even restricting your airflow.

When he let go, the effect on you was instantaneous. Nothing turned you on more than Brian choking you, and it never failed to send you in a kind of frenzy. You grabbed onto Brian, kissing him, biting him, shoving your hands up the back of his shirt and clawing your nails down his back, just as he liked it, and he responded in kind, gripping your hair.

Brian broke the kiss, your foreheads pressing together, your eyes still closed.

“How long do we have the place to ourselves?” Brian asked.

“What’s the time?” you replied, blinking your eyes open.

Brian’s grip tightened on your hair — he was irritated that he had to let go of you, and you loved it — and he leant back, craning his neck to look at the clock on the wall. “Five to five.”

“It’s a Tuesday, so that means Lucy finishes later,” you said. “We have until about… ten past six.”

“Good.” Brian swooped in to kiss you again, but only for a moment; he got to his feet, wincing as his knees cracked, making you laugh, and he took your hands and helped you to yours. You made your way to your bedroom, having to pause your journey every so often when either you or Brian got too handsy and you couldn’t resist making out again, but eventually you made it, and Brian wasted no time in throwing your shirt off.

“I have to admit, I’m surprised,” you said as you easily slipped Brian’s shirt off him - you had to go on your toes to get it over his head - and dropped it to the floor.

“What?” Brian said, his hands going to your belt. The conversation was put on hold as he ducked his head to kiss you, and you moaned into his mouth. You both managed to undo each other’s belts blindly, but you had to separate again when Brian struggled with the button on your jeans.

“I didn’t know you that was a — thing, for you,” you continued, watching Brian’s fucking gorgeous fingers finally undo the button and yank down your fly. “Y’know. Being called Daddy.”

“I…” It was Brian’s turn to watch you work on his button and fly. “Um, neither did I.”

“I thought you—“ You finished your task and began shoving your jeans down your legs, and Brian did the same. “I mean, the other day, last week, whatever, when I called you Daddy, you looked, like, not at all happy. You made a face.”

“That was not an unhappy face,” Brian said. “That was a— a ‘wow, I did not expect to like that’ face.”

You laughed. “But we always make fun of people who say ‘Daddy’ unironically. Everyone jokes about it all the time. Especially Roger,” you added, “but you do too.”

“Yeah, I know,” Brian said. “But the way you say it, I just…” He abandoned the thought to finish taking off his jeans.

You bit your lip, watching him, waiting until he looked at you. When he did, you gave him a slow smile, basking in how transfixed he was by you, and you murmured, “Daddy.”

Brian shuddered. “Yeah,” he said weakly. “Yeah, like that.” He hesitated. “Do you— It isn’t too weird for you, is it? You don’t have to—“

“Dude,” you said, stepping over to him. “I wouldn’t say it if I wasn’t okay with it. Honestly, at this point, it would have to be something mind-blowingly weird for me to not be okay with it.” You cupped the front of his underwear and gave him a squeeze, and he clenched his jaw, his eyes dark on your face. “Whatever turns you on, baby,” you said with a wink.

Brian gripped your hips, tugging you against him. “You turn me on,” he said. “Jesus, I— I’ve never met anyone who turns me on as much as you do.”

“Really?” you said, your fingers and toes tingling with excitement.

Brian nodded emphatically. “God, yes,” he said. “It never even occurred to me before you that I could just always be mildly turned on all the time just by being around another person. Especially not someone I’m, y’know, not romantically interested in. But the number of times I’ve thought about you when I’m—“ He cut himself off, glancing away, rubbing his jaw. “Um. Yeah. You… Yeah.”

Your heart was galloping, and your thoughts were occupied only by the desire to get Brian naked. “What do you think about?” you whispered.

You slipped your hand into Brian’s boxers, and curled your hand around him, jerking him off, not enough to frazzle his brain too much, but enough to get him interested.

He still wouldn’t look at you, closing his eyes, making a sound in the back of his throat.

“I bet it’s hot,” you said. “You think about fucking me hard? Making me scream like you always do? You’re so good at it. You always fuck me so good.”

Brian’s breathing grew uneven, and his hand went back to your hip. He was holding onto you like it was the only thing keeping his knees from buckling.

You kept your touch light, not changing the pace.

“Do you think about choking me?” you said. “Think about how hot it makes me? Think about how perfect your hand looks around my throat? Maybe how pretty I look when you tie me up and I’m all spread out for you. Maybe how fucked-out I look when you fuck my mouth. I know how much you love it. Do you think about that?”

“Fuck,” Brian groaned.

“Do you think about my nails down your back? How pretty and red your skin looks all scratched up? Maybe all the times I’ve sucked you off when our friends are in the room next to us, and you have to put a hand over your mouth to keep yourself quiet.” You tightened your grip just slightly, and Brian hissed, trying to buck forward into your hand, but you slipped your hand from his boxers, leaving him bucking into thin air, and he moaned.

“Is that what you think about when you get yourself off?” you prompted.

Brian nodded wordlessly, and went to kiss you, but you moved out of his reach. “You gonna use your words?” you teased.

Brian moaned again. “God.” It almost came out in a whine of frustration, and you felt warmth run down your body all the way to your toes. “Yes,” Brian ground out, finally opening his eyes. He had such pretty eyes. Dark and bright. “Yes, fuck, I think about all of that. I think about you in every single— scenario you could imagine. Literally whatever you can think of, I’ve thought about it. Because you drive me mental. And none of it compares to the real thing, which I’m really fucking hoping we’ll get to within the hour, if you’ll stop fucking about.”

You grinned. “You’re so patient with me,” you said. “I’ve trained you well.”

“I’m getting increasingly less patient,” Brian muttered.

You took one of his hands, bringing it to your face, slowly. You let his fingers rest against your lips. “I’m sorry,” you said, though you weren’t sorry at all.

Brian’s eyes were focused on your mouth. Watching his face, loving how horny it made him, you opened your lips, sucking two of his fingers into your mouth.

He moaned, biting his bottom lip. “You look fucking incredible doing that,” he murmured as you swirled your tongue around each finger. His other hand moved to your back, his fingers ghosting up and down your lower spine.

You let his fingers slide out of your mouth to say, “I love doing it. I love your hands.” You ran your tongue up his fingers and drew them into your mouth again, feeling the texture of them.

Brian’s other hand came to rest on your collarbones, his thumb against your throat. A promise. You felt excitement fizzle through you. “Good girl,” he said softly.

You paused. You’d never heard that one before.

“Sorry,” Brian said immediately. “I don’t know why I said that. That was too much.”

You let the new words sink in. You liked it.

You pulled off his fingers again. “I don’t think it was, Daddy,” you said.

Brian’s mouth fell open. “Oh my God,” he breathed.

“Unless you think it was,” you added quickly.

Brian shook his head. “No,” he said. “It— it sort of… works, doesn’t it? With me calling you — when you’re calling me…”

“Call me that again,” you suggested. “We can always veto it at any point.”

“That’s true,” Brian said. “I’m— It feels a bit weird calling you that, like, right now, so I’m just going to— I’ll wait.”

You nodded. “Okay. But I liked it, I think.” Brian’s fingers still rested against your mouth, and it was nice, in a strange way, to have them there. “It was hot, y’know, in the moment.”

“Good,” Brian said. “Otherwise that could’ve been—“

“Awkward, yeah,” you said with a laugh. You kissed his fingertips. “So, you gonna choke me, or…?”

Brian snorted a laugh. “You’re not exactly delicate, are you?”

“Never have been,” you said happily. You took his wrists, guiding his hands away, and leant in to kiss him.

You ended up on the bed somehow, with Brian kissing you while he held your wrists down above your head. If you’d had more time, you would’ve used the scarves that you kept in your closet for just this purpose — you hated wearing them, so you were glad that they were useful for something — but time was ticking, and both of you were anxious to move things along.

Brian had to let go of your wrists to move further down your body, tearing off your bra and giving your boobs the love they deserved.

You made a soft sound of pleasure, scratching your nails up and down Brian’s back where you could reach, and along his shoulders, and Brian tensed at the sharp pain of it, but you knew it wasn’t too much. You’d only ever had to stop when you’d almost made him bleed, and even then it had been you who’d noticed it, not him.

Brian went to move further down your body, but you tugged him back up, shaking your head.

“No?” Brian said.

“Choke me,” you said.

Brian nodded eagerly. “Yeah, of course.”

“Choke me, Daddy,” you added with a laugh.

“That is funny,” Brian said, “but also, please say that in your sex voice.”

You quirked your eyebrows at him, and then grabbed his hand, pressing it against your throat. “Please choke me, Daddy.”

Brian sat up and leant over you, then applied pressure on your throat, and your eyes slid closed, your head tilting back. “Yeah,” you breathed. “Yeah, Daddy, just like that. Feels so good.”

“Fuck,” Brian muttered. His grip tightened, and you whined.

Your mind went quiet, focusing only on the feeling of Brian’s hand around your throat. You couldn’t have thought about anything else if you’d tried.

Brian released his grip, and you felt your heart jump.

Your eyes opened. Brian was watching you with an expression you knew well, his cock pressed against his stomach, leaking pre-come. He looked delicious.

His hand stayed where it was.

“More?” he said.

You nodded. “Please, Daddy.”

“God, that’s so fucking hot,” Brian said, and did as you asked.

He kept his grip tight on your throat for so long that your body’s instincts really kicked in, giving you a surge of adrenaline that, in any other situation, would have made you panic. But not right now. Right now, it did something very different.

“Good girl,” you heard Brian say, and you whimpered.

He let you go, and you gasped, almost trembling with need. “Fuck me,” you demanded. “Fuck me literally right now, dude, I’m not even joking.”

Brian chuckled. “Choking you always works. Every time.”

“Yeah, because it’s really hot,” you said bluntly. “I’m like a waterfall down there right now. Get your dick in me. God.”

Brian laughed, and you batted his hand away to sit up, grabbing onto him and kissing him. You fell back onto the bed, Brian coming with you.

He was laughing against your lips, but you didn’t care. You did care, however, when you felt his fingers nudging at your entrance, and you nodded. He pushed a finger into you, and you spread your legs, making a muffled sound of frustration.

Brian pulled back. “What?”

“Hurry up,” you said. “Get those fingers up in there.”

You didn’t exactly help speed things up; you kept distracting Brian, nipping at his lip and neck, raking your nails up his back, taking his cock in your hand and jerking him off.

By the time you assured him that you were ready, you were both sweaty, breathless messes, and Brian’s hands shook with adrenaline so badly that he dropped the condom as he was trying to open the packet.

You, again, weren’t helping.

“Come on,” you whined, kneeling behind him, pushing his hair aside to kiss his neck, your hand curling around his front and squeezing the base of his cock.

”I’m trying,” he said. “It’s a little difficult when you’re— Got it.” As he rolled the condom onto himself, you moved your lips to his ear, kissing the bone behind it.

“You gonna fuck me good, Daddy?” you murmured. “I’m so ready for you. So wet for you, Daddy. All for you.”

He shuddered, a full-body shiver that made you grin.

“Done,” he blurted, and turned around to shove you onto your back.

You laughed, bouncing as you hit the bed, and Brian pounced on you, kissing you deeply. He took a brief pause to lube himself up, and he pushed into you soon after; although the burn was familiar, you still took a few moments to adjust the further he sank into you.

You threw your legs around his hips, and he began thrusting into you, and you wondered how the hell you’d gone your whole life up until a few months ago without him fucking you.

Soon, he panted into your ear, “Can I choke you?”

“Yes, fuck yes,” you said, and he paused, getting to the right position, making sure he could keep balanced, and then he was fucking you again. One hand came to press on your throat, and your eyes slid closed.

You’d come just from this before — Brian fucking you nice and deep while he cut off the blood supply to your brain. It didn’t happen all that often, and neither of you ever expected it to happen, but once or twice it had.

You could feel yourself teetering on the edge now, very nearly almost there, but you knew you’d need more.

Brian let your throat go, and you made a sound that was halfway between a moan and a gasp, and then his fingers were at your clit, and he said, “Good girl, Jesus Christ,” and no one was more shocked than you when you came unexpectedly.

Brian’s hips shunted forward at the feeling of you pulsing around him, and he moaned, and you were panting like you’d run a marathon, jerking from the aftershocks of your orgasm.

There was a moment of confused silence. You weren’t sure if you should be embarrassed or not.

“Did you just come?” Brian said, his voice pitched high in surprise.

You nodded. “Yeah,” you said breathlessly, pressing your palm to your forehead, staring at the ceiling. “Oh, God.”

“I thought I was going to finish soon,” Brian said with a laugh.

“That was… wow,” you said. “Okay. All right. I didn’t even realise I was that close.”

Brian hummed, and leant down to kiss the hollow of your throat. “It was sort of hot,” he said. “If I’m being honest.”

“Yeah?” you said.

“Mm.” Brian’s tongue brushed over where his lips had been, and your shoulders tensed, a light giggle slipping from you.

“Stop it, I’m ticklish there,” you said.

Brian kissed further up your neck. “Am I all right to keep going?” he said in between kisses. “You’re not too sensitive?”

“If you can make me come again before you’ve finished, I’ll buy you your groceries for the next two weeks,” you said.

Brian paused, then lifted his head. “My groceries, or my household’s groceries?”

You thought about it. “Just yours. I’m not made of money. And it would be a little suss if all of a sudden I was forking over, like, all of my savings to pay for a fortnight’s worth of food for four guys. You’d send me broke.”

“I don’t think you’re going to have to worry about it too much,” Brian said. “I was pretty close already.”

“Fine,” you said. “Two weeks’ worth of food. For the entire gang. If I come again before you do.”

Brian laughed, shaking his head. “Yeah, all right. Already prepared to lose this one.” He kissed you, and you rolled your hips up to his, and he picked up where he left off.

You spent the next couple of minutes floating in that grey area of arousal, feeling turned on beyond belief, but knowing that you weren’t going to come. It didn’t matter, though, because you were more than happy where you were, and you also knew that you wouldn’t have to pay for a shit-ton of groceries.

Towards the end, though, you felt the beginnings of something within you, and, okay, maybe you did really want to come again.

You could tell Brian was close, and you urged him to go faster, harder. “You’re fucking me so good, Daddy, yes,” you panted.

Brian groaned. “I’m…”

You clenched around him, and his rhythm stuttered. “Come on, Bri,” you murmured. “You’re so close, I can feel it. Come on. Daddy. Daddy, please.”

Brian cried out as he came. You grinned, and let Brian take a moment before you rolled both of you over, so you were straddling him. His arms flopped out to the sides, and you laughed.

Your second orgasm was just out of reach, an itch you wanted to scratch, but it was easy enough to ignore, for now.

Brian ran his fingertips over your thighs, looking beautifully dishevelled. “How are you?” he said. “Do you need me to—“

“No,” you said. “No, I’m good.”

Brian squinted at you. “Are you lying?”

“No,” you said. “You don’t have to do anything. I’m fine.”

Brian sighed. “Right. All right.” He sat up and helped you dismount, then discarded his condom in the bin across the room. He climbed back on the bed and shoved your legs apart.

You gave him a quizzical look. “What are you doing?”

“Eating you out,” Brian said, like it was obvious.

“You don’t have to,” you said, unconvincingly.

“If you don’t want me to, I won’t,” Brian said.

“Well, do you want to?” you said.

“I always want to,” Brian said.

“You don’t even want to take a break first?”

“How many times do I have to tell you,” Brian said, getting comfortable and kissing the inside of your thigh. “I’m not done until you’re done.” He kissed your thigh again, much further up. “And are you done?”

You debated your response.

Brian’s kiss moved even further up. “You going to be a good girl for me?” he murmured, looking up at you with those dark eyes, and you felt your stomach jolt with arousal.

“Not done,” you blurted, shaking your head. “I’m not done.”

Brian huffed a laugh, and you let your head fall back.

This — Brian eating you out — was something, amongst other things, that the two of you had perfected down to a T. Usually it wasn’t something that happened straight after sex, but you’d done it before. And anyway, you were both very adaptable when it came to sex. Specifically, sex with each other.

Brian could just about slide three fingers into you without any further preamble, and his tongue really was something divine. You curled your hand into his hair, giving him murmurs of encouragement, you breath catching whenever he got just the right angle, just the right pressure.

It didn’t take long. You felt it building and building within you, and you breathed, “So close, yes, that’s it.” Brian knew exactly what to do, exactly how fast to go, and then your back was arching, and you came with a gasp and a cry.

Brian peppered kisses to your stomach, and you pushed at his shoulder. “I’m fucking ticklish, dude, stop it,” you said, squirming, and Brian crawled over you, landing heavily beside you on the bed.

“Done?” he said, raising his eyebrows.

You reached over and wiped off his face with your hand. “Yep,” you said. “Thanks, Daddy.”

You’d said it just to make him uncomfortable, and it worked a treat. Brian made a face. “Eugh. Not like that. Sounds weird if you say it like that.”

“Like what?” you said, feigning ignorance.

“Like I’m actually your dad and I’ve just, I don’t know, dropped you off at school.”

“What if I called you just ‘Dad’?”

“I would never speak to you again. And immediately get a restraining order.”

You laughed. “What about—“

“I’m going to stop you right there,” Brian said. “Before I regret ever telling you anything in the first place.”

You shuffled onto your front, letting your arm fall across Brian’s waist. “Can we just skip the lecture tomorrow?” you grumbled. “Let’s just stay here and have sex.”

“That’s a very appealing suggestion,” Brian said, “but I don’t think our future selves would be all that pleased when we don’t know anything for the exam.”

“We never know anything for the exam,” you said. “Everyone always has to teach themselves everything anyway.”

“Well, be my guest, if you want to stay home,” Brian said. “But I’ll be going.”

“Maybe I’ll just sleep with someone who’s available, then,” you said.

“Feel free.”

“Maybe Rog.”

Brian made a face. “Gross.”

You grinned. “In your bed.”

“All right, no, I know for a fact that Rog would never have sex in my bed. That’s crossing a line.”

“Would you have sex in his bed?”

Brian thought it over. “Maybe. If it was you, then maybe.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Oh?”

“That wasn’t a challenge,” Brian said. “I don’t want to have sex in Roger’s bed. I’m just saying, if there were no other options—“

“We’re definitely going to have sex in Roger’s bed,” you said with a grin.

Brian groaned. “No.”

“Okay, I’ll just have sex with Roger, then.”

“No!” Brian groaned even more loudly. “Then he’ll never shut up about it.” He paused, and then said, “Actually, he makes a lot of Daddy jokes. I’m curious now - do you think you could do some recon and figure out if he’s into it, too? I bet he is, the hypocrite. If you could, it would bring me so much joy. I’d be eternally grateful.”

You laughed. “We’ll have to see about that one.” You sat up, and climbed off the bed. “I’m going to shower. You can join me if you like, but you don’t have to.”

“I’ll shower after,” Brian said. “We always end up wasting water when we shower together. Which completely defeats the purpose of showering together.”

You shrugged. “Up to you,” you said lightly, heading to the bedroom door.

You hadn’t even opened the door when Brian blurted, “Okay, fine, I’m coming.”

You shot him a smile over your shoulder. “I wasn’t even trying to change your mind.”

“I think you were,” Brian said, as the two of you headed to the bathroom.

“I don’t think I was.”

“Hm, I think you were.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “You’re so annoying.”

Brian laughed. “Ah, how the tables have turned!”

“Shut up,” you said. You swatted his hip. “Get in the shower.”

After the shower, you both got dressed and went back to studying. The popcorn was cold, and your roommate Lucy complained about the mess on the kitchen floor when she got home.

Nothing had changed, and it was perfect.

#brian may x reader #queen fanfiction #smut #rpf #mine #try verse

284 notes · View notes

geeky-writes · 4 years

Text

The Phoenix Project Chapter 4 Preview

Behind? Catch up HERE 😊

********

Phillips gave a single nod, jerking his head in Anthony’s direction. “Good. Now, you will all turn your complete attention to Mr Stark while he runs through a few final details. Mr Stark?”

“Thanks, Colonel,” Anthony said as soon as Phillips stepped back. He handed his stack of papers to Carol, awkwardly pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as his eyes flicked over to Steve. “I've prepared some final notes on the operations of the X-302, just a few more things that I thought might be of some interest. Nothing in there will affect any of your patrol this morning, but—”

“Does this information discuss anything regarding the possible extra-atmospheric travel?” Steve blurted out, his heart skittering when Anthony’s wide brown eyes locked with his. “I mean, I'm not trying to pressure you or anything—I’m just—I’m just really curious, and—”

“Well, I don't think being curious is a crime, Captain Rogers,” Anthony said, and Steve could’ve sworn that he saw a hint of a smirk playing on Anthony’s full lips. “But since we're still quite a ways away from dealing with anything out in space, I’m afraid not. This information only covers normal flight operations and is designed as an addendum to the flight materials that you've already received.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, hmm, Captain Rogers?” added Phillips. “Who knows, you might get up there today and decide that you don’t even like how the X-302 flies.”

“Oh, I doubt that, sir,” Steve replied, his eyes still fixed on Anthony. “Somehow I have a feeling I’m going to enjoy it even more than I expected.”

A pause followed, just for a heartbeat or so, but still long enough for Carol to shoot Steve a very confused side-eye.

“You kinda sound like you're trying to start courting her when you haven’t even been properly introduced yet, Rogers,” she said. “And I would've thought you would’ve known by now that that is no way to treat a lady.”

“Nah, Danvers, Stevie knows that,” piped up Bucky from his seat behind Steve. “It’s just been so long since he’s tried to court anyone that he doesn’t remember how.”

“All right, enough about your private lives already,” barked Phillips. “If no one has any further questions about the actual aircraft that you're about to fly, then you're dismissed. Wheels up in twenty.”

To a chorus of “yes, sir!” accompanied by the hair-raising sound of scraping chairs, the pilots all shuffled out of the room, with Bucky yanking on Steve’s arm almost before he had managed to clear the threshold.

“What the hell was all that about?” he hissed as they made their way towards the hangar. “If I didn’t know any better I could’ve sworn that you we're trying to flirt, but—”

“No, I wasn't—” Steve started.

“—then again, it’s you, and you never flirt,” Bucky said, as if he hadn't even heard Steve. “And boy could I tell, ‘cause damn, Stevie, you are really way out of practise! I mean, that was like a primary school-level attempt back there, and from a guy like you—”

“I wasn't flirting, Buck,” Steve whispered sharply. “I only asked a simple question, and—”

Bucky cut him off with one of his yeah, sure looks. “Ah huh. So, what made you change your mind about Stark? Just the fact that he’s hot?”

Steve shook his head, wishing very badly that he could hit a rewind button or something. “I wasn’t—wait… you think Stark is hot?”

“Well, unless you're about to tell me that you were just eye-fucking Phillips then I’m guessing that you think Stark is hot!” Bucky said with a laugh. “And if I’m wrong and you really were eye-fucking Phillips, then I don’t think I wanna know, so—”

“Oh gods, no!” Steve said with a shudder. “But—”

“But you are right, Stark is damn hot. And he seems to know what he’s talking about too, which is good since he’s a civvy and all,” continued Bucky. He tugged on Steve’s arm as they stepped into the hangar, pulling him off to the side. “But Steve, he is a Stark, right? I mean, you haven’t forgotten what that means, have you?”

A stab of pain pierced Steve’s heart. All those nights that he spent listening to his mother sob into her pillow, cursing the name of Howard Stark.

Growing up without a father because of Howard Stark.

How could he ever forget something like that?

The full chapter will post on Monday, April 20th 💖

#the phoenix project #superfamily #stony #iron dad and spider son #superfamily fanfiction #stony fanfiction #iron dad fanfiction #steve rogers#tony stark #peter parker #parent tony stark #kid peter #carol danvers #bucky barnes #alternate universe #science fiction #chapter 4 preview #geeky writes

24 notes · View notes

thepeakyfckingblinders · 5 years

Text

Insānĭa || Alfie Solomons x reader || Part One

↬ Part Two ↫

⤠ MASTERLIST⤟

Anon requested/summary: “Hi luv can you write a Jealous Alfie that's leads to in ur words good old fashioned rough sex pretty please 😉”

Warnings: swearing, dirty talking, smut, rough sex, oral sex, jealous Alfie getting me on my knees

Author’s notes:

Sooo, I’ve definitely decided to use this kind of titles for fics about strong feelings such as jealousy because Latin is a magnificent, very expressive language that allows you to grasp every single shade of a word and fully understand its meaning

I had to split this in two since it was awfully long, part two will be out in the next hours!

Alfie -and Tom Hardy in general- is one of my most remote wet dreams, I truly hope I did a good job with this one ♡

I’m sorry for being this late, but I’ve been really busy in the past days and writing is never just easy, it demands concentration and effort, plus I don’t want you to be disappointed, so I’m always extra accurate while working. I hope this is worth the wait!

Let me know what you think and tell me if this is what you expected ♡

I’m Italian, English isn’t my first language, so I apologize for every possible mistake I made. Also, please, help me improve my writing by telling me if there’s something wrong

ENJOY!

Insānĭa [insaniă], insaniae feminine noun I declension 1. madness, insanity 2. fury, frenzy 3. excess, extravagance 4. profligacy, luxury

The dark green brocade of your dress flawlessly embraced your body, creating a ravishing contrast between the bright colour of that precious fabric and your y/s/c velvet skin, as you gave a final glimpse at the mirror, appreciating what you saw for once. That surprising realization made a small smile appear on your ruby lips and you brushed behind your pearled ear a stand of your hair escaped from your fine coiffure, before finally leaving Alfie’s office, headed to the great hall of the distillery where an important business dinner was about to take place. Actually, your fiancé hardly ever involved you in his working life, indeed he always tried to keep you safe, far away from the atrocities of that cruel world, almost like you were his rare rose under a bell jar, he would’ve never let anything happen to you, at the cost of his own life. But that was a special occasion and it demanded an exception: Alfie had finally succeeded in reaching an agreement with a new Italo-American partner, in order to expand his traffic in rum all the way to the Americas; consequently, that opulent feast was arranged not only to celebrate, but also to define the ultimate details of their recent deal, and your presence was required too. Entering the huge room already half full of people, you immediately waved your hand at Ollie who was friendly smiling in your direction, before your eyes went looking for your boyfriend, finding him seconds later, while he was busy talking with who you assumed to be Mr. Antonio Fontana. As you approached them, you had to admit to yourself that Alfie’s latest business associate was, without a doubt, one of the most charming men you’d ever seen; his tall, muscular figure stroke a thrilling fear into you, as his dark greedy eyes examined your body with surgical precision and, when you eventually found yourself right in front of him with flushed cheeks, a slight smirk formed on his fleshy lips surrounded by a hint of beard, just as black as his curly hair.

You remained caught up in your inappropriate thoughts, unable to pronounce a single word, until a strong arm unexpectedly harpooned your waist, catapulting you back into real life, and you recognized Alfie’s intense cologne as it forcefully filled your nostrils. Only then you raised your eyes at him, noticing an irritated look contaminating his sublime masculine features, still you didn’t manage to say anything because, just as you attempted to open your mouth, Antonio’s deep voice overtook you, capturing your attention again.

“May I ask who this stunning creature is?” Although that question was in effect addressed to Alfie, your guest’s impudent gaze entangled yours once more, as he held your right hand, leaving a brief kiss on the ardent skin of its dorsum; his strategical sweet-talk, along with his sudden gallant gesture, inevitably intensified the blush on your face, preventing you to look the other way, so you simply kept your irises locked with his.

“I’m y/n ...” Before your full name could leave your red lips, Alfie nonchalantly took your tiny hand from his, sending him an indecipherable, unsettling glare in stark contrast with his apparently mild voice, while his fingers automatically stroked his long beard .

“Antonio, this is Y/n y/l/n, my lovely wife-to-be” That last appellative in particular was marked with far too much emphasis as his strong hand, still laid on your side, gently pulled your back closer to his vigorous torso covered by a creamy-white shirt and black jacket; already bothered by all of that impudence, he was obviously making it clear that you were not available, still the half Italian just didn’t seem to care and continued to shamelessly court you, right under Alfie’s harsh stare.

“This means it’s not too late for you to make a better choice, angel” Antonio’s grin widened while he spoke those insolent words, making his black eyes blatantly travel from your mouth to your deep neckline, his tongue slithered on his bottom lip in a salacious movement as he lingered on the soft skin of your chest. You felt your fiancé’s fists brutally clench, moreover his muscular arms visibly tautened together with his large shoulders, and you knew he wouldn’t have contained his anger for much longer, still, before your spellbound brain could start working again, your rambling mouth raced beyond the point of no return.

“Guess it’s never too late”

You said lightly and, as soon as you realized how idiotic your answer was, your eyelids snapped wide open with absolute panic for the likely destructive consequences of your foolishness; however, to your great surprise, nothing of what you expected actually happened. Alfie was still holding you tight, his heavy breaths slightly betrayed his attempt to remain calm: he was well aware that the deal with the Americans was way too important for him to ruin everything at a few inches from the finish line, so he just had recourse to all his self-control and somehow managed not to blow his shareholder’s head off his neck right on the spot. He simply cleared his throat before speaking again. “You know, my friend, we are businessmen, aren't we?” Your boyfriend’s husky voice revealed a hint of edginess, even though he was using his usual unintelligible tone “And as a businessman, there’s only one fucking thing I demand when it comes to my affairs, and that’s respect, ‘cause respect, mate, is fucking sacred, innit?” His tattooed hand drew a few little circles in the air as his brows and mouth raised simultaneously, giving birth to a brief pretentious expression. “I mean, no matter how hard I want to, I can’t just break into your house and fuck your mother under your bloody eyes, eh? That wouldn’t be right, mate” Antonio looked at him with a cheeky smile never leaving his face, and again he chose to totally ignore those veiled warnings, his attention utterly moved to your silhouette once more and his fingers dared to move a lock of your hair behind your ear. “Amico mio*, I think when you desire something so bad, you have to take it, even if it meant breaking the rules”

With fiery blood both in his greenish eyes and on the palms of his hands, due to the nails now wedged in his own flesh, Alfie abruptly breathed out, ready to assault his new sworn enemy and probably kill him right there and then, without a second thought; luckily, you were able to read him like a book, so, with great timing, you successfully avoided a bloodbath by yanking his arm, in order to dissuade him from the violent intentions crowding his turbulent mind. “Mr. Fontana, if you’ll excuse us for a few minutes, I just remembered I need help with a couple of things before our dinner is served” You put on an apologetic smile, starting to back off towards Alfie’s private room while dragging him with you “Please, take a seat, we’ll be back in a moment”

As soon as the two of you entered the main office, you quickly closed the door along with the curtains, conscious of how hard it was to cope with your man’s wrath, especially when it came to other blokes brazenly flirting with you. “What the hell was that, eh?” Alfie furiously removed his jacket, carelessly throwing it on the floor, his hoarse voice echoed between the walls almost astonishing you, as he approached your minute figure with a literally livid look. “How dare you eye-shag that fucking wop, in my own fucking home! He was practically about to put his dick in you right in front of me; and you would’ve fucking let him!” His savage screaming paused for a short instant when he spasmodically messed up his hair, madly pulling its tips in a desperate effort to hold back his rage.

On the other hand, you simply couldn’t take your eyes off him: whenever he got angry, the way veins swelled in his solid neck and half-exposed forearms drove you crazy, you were in a haze as you kept staring at his manly features pursed in such a cursed yet handsome expression, and if that wasn’t hot enough, his muscular body tensed several times, showing all of its virile glory, while he continued to shout at you. “I don’t even know why the hell I haven't killed that cunt yet! Maybe I should just go and rip his throat open” A familiar heat began to rise in your belly and you tactically sat on his desk, viciously martyrizing your bottom lip with your teeth, determined to tease him a little more, in order to eventually get what you were craving. “Oh, c’mon, love, no need to be this irascible! He is a gorgeous man, you can’t deny that” In truth, you couldn’t care less about that eyetie, still you kept using that coquettish tone, knowing how easy it was for you to find his weak spot, indeed Alfie immediately got close to your face, slightly squeezing his menacing eyes. “Are you fucking trying to make me mad on purpose, y/n? eh?” His palms loudly collided with the wooden surface on each side of your legs, his plump lips were now only a few inches apart from yours, his hot breath warming your flushed cheeks as you pierced his dilated pupils with a lustful gaze.

“Maybe.”

*Amico mio = My friend

@namelesslosers

413 notes · View notes