#I feel like this is the most likely option

[girlgenius1111]

promises

part 2 to behave. sol makes some questionable decisions. mapi comes to her rescue. ingrid comes home. ft. someone special.

Your arm was broken, and you hadn’t gotten drunk in months. Of course, the two main reasons you had for sneaking out could definitely be construed as two reasons not to sneak out as well. But Ingrid was out of town only until the following afternoon, and Mapi slept like the dead. It was a perfect opportunity, the only opportunity you’d have for many more weeks to come. And besides, you were 18. You weren’t breaking any laws. 

You’d been invited to a party, too, which wasn’t an opportunity you wanted to waste. You hadn’t assimilated to school very well. It was a nightmarish hell, honestly, but in the past few weeks you’d made a few casual acquaintances. They weren’t in any of your classes, and you didn't know them very well, but it was a good start.  

You slipped out the front door at around 1, promising Scout you’d be back soon, and began the few blocks’ walk to where the party was. You were excited. 

------

You didn’t like this. It was unclear what was so unsettling, maybe it was the fact that everything had changed so dramatically since the last time you’d been drunk. Maybe it was because, now, you cared very much about disappointing the people in charge of you. There was also the tiny detail that you’d had way too much. Your tolerance had evidently gone down in the past several months, but you hadn’t really thought about that until it was too late. 

Either way, you just really weren’t feeling the party. It reminded you too much of being back in Norway. How you felt then… you hadn’t really realized how bad it was until you were out of there, and doing much better. The taste of tequila on your tongue was a very visceral reminder of that time. 

It tasted like loneliness. It tasted like you hated everyone, yourself most of all. It tasted like you didn’t care much whether you got home safely, or got home at all. Like you were completely meaningless, and you always would be. You were scared, honestly, just wanted to go home. You headed out the back slider, leaving behind the noise of the party, and fell into one of the patio chairs. You couldn’t walk straight, your mind was completely cloudy, and you were having a hard time stringing any coherent thoughts together. You wanted to go home, but there was no way for you to get there; you definitely couldn’t walk. And even as drunk as you were, you knew ubering home in the middle of the night, by yourself, completely wasted, was a horrible idea. 

You were considering your options when your phone ringing interrupted your thoughts. Mapi was calling you. Fuck. You had no choice but the answer. She had your location. The only way you would have gotten away with this in the first place would have been if she hadn’t woken up. Now, though. You were completely screwed. You did your best to sound as sober as possible when you answered the phone.

“Hi Mapi.” You said cautiously. 

“Nena. Are you coming home soon?” Mapi asked calmly. 

“W-what?” You slurred back, blinking hard in an attempt to clear your mind. 

“You snuck out a couple of hours ago, and now it is almost 3am. So. Are you coming home soon, or should I come get you?”

“You knew I snuck out?” You asked dumbly. 

“Yes, nena. Now, where are you? Are you drunk?” 

“No.” 

You could feel Mapi roll her eyes. “Liar. I am coming to get you.”

The wind picked up a bit, and you shivered, suddenly feeling very cold, and very alone out in the dark. “Mapi?”

“Sí?” 

“Can you stay on the phone?”

And just like that, Mapi’s tone switched from annoyed and slightly amused, to full of concern. “Sí, I’m right here. What is going on? Are you safe? Are you with anyone?” 

You looked back through the sliding door, the party still in full swing. You weren’t alone, really, but you weren’t… with anyone. And for some reason, maybe because you were having memory after memory of feeling very similarly in Norway, you didn’t feel quite safe. 

“There’s a party inside. I’m outside. By myself. Can you come fast? I don’t feel good.” 

“I’m on my way, mi sol.” Mapi promised, and you knew without her saying it that she would go as fast as she could. 

------

She should have stepped in sooner. She should have stopped you the minute you’d snuck out the front door, or at the very least, followed you to where you went. 

She’d been awake, scrolling on her phone. Sleeping was always a bit more difficult without Ingrid there with her, so though it was later than usual for her to be up, it wasn’t completely unheard of. You were quiet as you left, but Mapi had accidentally picked up your phone earlier in the evening, and seen a text containing an address in it. The Spaniard was young once, too, and she knew pretty much instantly what was going on. She half hoped that you’d just ask about going, but as she was reminded often, your parents had done their damage. You’d snuck out instead. 

The thing was, Mapi honestly didn’t care very much that you wanted to go out. It was slightly worrying that you’d felt the need to sneak out, but she understood. The rules were different now than when you’d been in Norway, and it was clear to her that you were still getting used to that. 

You didn’t sound good on the phone, though, and she couldn’t help the worry that filled her as she sped towards the house your location was displaying. It wasn’t just that you were hammered. You sounded… far away. You sounded like the Sol she met when you first arrived. Cold, terrified, closed off, and desperately sad. Mapi didn’t like hearing you like that, and now she really wished that she would have stopped you from leaving the house earlier. 

There hadn’t been a peep over the phone for a few minutes as Mapi neared the house. “Hey, nena? You with me?” 

“Mm hmm.” You hummed, your attention fixed on the sky above you. It was funny, how all the stars could be the same in Barcelona as they were in Norway, yet everything else could be so drastically different. 

“I’m in front. Can you walk out to me, or should I come back and get you?” She was thrilled that you’d made friends enough to go to a party, and she didn’t want to embarrass you if she didn’t have to. 

“‘Can walk,” You mumbled, standing up from the chair, taking a step forward, and promptly falling face first to the ground. Mapi heard the racket, and was out of her car and running to you before you could get a word out. “Mapi, I fell,” you whined over the phone, completely oblivious to the fact that the Spaniard was sprinting in your direction. 

“Idiota.” Mapi mumbled, arriving at your side and bending down to inspect your face. 

“Mapiiiiii,” you sang, eyes halfway closed as you grinned up at the other girl.

“Ay dios mio.” Mapi sighed. You were worse off than she’d thought. “Did you hit your head when you fell?” 

“No, but I hurt my knee, look,” you said sadly, pointing down to a very small scrape. 

“Alright, let’s get you home and I’ll take care-”

“Excuse me, who are you?” A girl asked, stepping out onto the patio, looking between you and Mapi. “Sol, do you know that girl?” 

“I am her… Mapi.” Mapi said, internally rolling her eyes at herself. 

“She’s my Mapi!” You said enthusiastically, somehow hopping to your feet with a bit of agility, and leaning heavily against your sister's girlfriend. “She’s my sister Ingrid’s Mapi, her name is girlfriend.” You slurred. 

The girl just blinked, looking confused. “I am her sister’s girlfriend, María. She called me. I’m going to take her home now.” 

The girl’s expression cleared. “Oh, got it. Thanks for coming, Sol, see you monday.” 

“Byeeeeeeeee.”

“Have a good night.” Mapi said kindly. She appreciated that the girl hadn’t let some stranger abduct you from her patio. She began the arduous journey of practically carrying you back to the car. Once you were in the front seat, she turned the light on above you tilted your face towards her. 

“Nena, open your eyes.” She instructed. You did, opening your eyes ridiculously wide, until they began watering. She just wanted to make sure you hadn’t been drugged or anything, given how out of it you were. Your pupils looked normal, and she decided you had just had way too much to drink.“Okay, you can let your eyes be normal now.” 

They fell back into the half lidded state they were in before, and you sagged into the seat. Mapi bit back a smile. Now that you were safe, she was slightly amused at Drunk Sol. You were funny. 

She’d noticed something though, and as she buckled your seatbelt around you, she asked a question she knew you’d probably avoid answering if you’d been sober. 

“Nena, do the kids at school call you Sol?” 

Mapi had been under the impression that you went by your real name at school, as much as you hated it. Ingrid and Mapi almost exclusively called you Solstråle or Sol, now, just out of habit, but she hadn’t realized you’d made the change at school, too. 

“Yup.” You said, head turned towards her, though your eyes remained shut. 

“Why?” She wondered. She was just curious, honestly. Not only had she not known that you’d had friends at school, you hadn’t mentioned talking to anyone enough to come out of your shell, and tell them something different to call you. 

“I like it better.” 

“Oh.” Mapi said. 

“I like Sol. It’s pretty. And you picked it.” You attempted to poke Mapi’s nose, missed, and hit her cheek, though you continued on like nothing had happened. “And my mom never called me that. It’s a happy name.” 

Mapi blinked at you, before she cleared her throat. “Well, I’m glad you like it.” She said softly, before she shut your car door, and walked around to her side. And if she wiped a few tears away as she did so, that was no one’s business. 

-------

“That STINGS!” You shouted, sitting up out of what Mapi thought was a light sleep, yanking your leg away from her. She’d been trying to disinfect your knee, taking advantage of the fact that you’d collapsed onto the sofa the minute you made it into the house. 

“Sorry, Sol, I’m just cleaning it.” Mapi said, stifling a laugh at the absolutely betrayed look on your face. 

“You SCRAPED MY KNEE!” You insisted, a huge frown on your face. 

“Sol, you scraped your knee, when you fell down earlier. Now let me put a bandaid on.” 

“I didn’t fall, you fell.” You grumbled, though you extended your leg back out to her. “Mapi?” 

“Hmm?”

“Why is my arm wearing a blue condom?” You asked, dead serious, holding up your cast and inspecting it thoughtfully. Mapi bit her lip, trying in vain not to laugh at you, knowing you wouldn’t appreciate it in this state. 

“It’s not a condom, Sol, it’s a cast. You broke your arm.” 

“Oh.” You sat for a moment, watching as Mapi very carefully ensured the bandaid was correctly placed on your knee. “Are there condoms for lesbians?”

God save her. Mapi looked up at you, trying to tell if you were being serious. Your face was completely blank. No. No. She wasn’t doing this now. She was quite sure you’d had sex education, and even if you hadn’t, she’d make Ingrid do it when you were sober. “We can talk about condoms tomorrow. You’re going to bed now.” 

“If there are lesbian condoms, I’m in trouble, because I’ve never used one and I’m a lesbian.” You continued, before sitting up with a gasp. “Oh GOD. Am I pregnant?” 

Now, Mapi really wished she had stopped you from sneaking out. She wished she’d locked you in your room for the night, honestly. 

“Sol, you are not pregnant. Lesbians can’t get each other pregnant.” She explained, lifting you off the couch and into her arms. You were silent as she walked up the stairs, you curled up against her, until you sniffled quietly. She looked down, seeing tears in your eyes, and hurriedly placed you on your bed. “Hey, what’s wrong?” She asked gently, wiping away a stray tear. 

“That’s so sad.” You cried. 

“What is?” Mapi asked, bewildered. 

“That lesbians can’t get each other pregnant. It’s not fair.” 

“Sol, did you not know lesbians couldn’t get each other pregnant?” The Spaniard asked exasperatedly, really starting to doubt the sex education program at your school. 

“No. I just didn’t think about it until now and it’s so sad.” You mumbled, flopping back onto your bed. “‘Cause lesbians are the best.” 

Mapi flopped down onto the bed next to you, rolling her eyes when Scout picked his head up to glare at her. Of course. Now the dog woke up. “It is sad.” She agreed, thinking it was the easiest way to end the conversation. You didn’t respond, though and she looked over to find you already asleep. 

Thank god.

-------

When you wandered down the stairs at 10 the next morning, Mapi was glad to see that you looked relatively… fine. Not hungover at all, which was absurd considering the state you’d been in the night before. 

“Good morning, Solstråle.” She said, smirking when you looked at her with a furrowed brow. 

“Morning.” You mumbled back, throwing yourself dramatically onto the couch.

“How are you feeling?” 

“Just tired.” 

“You aren’t hungover?” 

“I don’t really get hungover.” You said absentmindedly, scrolling on your phone, only looking up when Mapi didn’t say anything. “What?” 

She looked surprised and kind of annoyed. “You don’t get hungover?” 

“Nope!” You said cheerfully. “Probably a young person thing.” Turning back to your phone, you jumped when a pillow thwacked you in the face. 

“I am young.” Mapi grumbled. You just laughed. “You will not be laughing when Ingrid finds out you snuck out to get drunk.” 

You sat bolt upright, staring at her with your jaw dropped. “You’re going to tell on me?” 

And though she’d said it mostly as a joke, she’d been serious, and she was surprised you hadn’t known that. She told Ingrid everything. She couldn’t keep this from her. “Sol, you had to have known I’d tell her.” 

“You knew I left and you didn’t say anything! This is your fault!”

“My fault?” Mapi laughed. “I wasn’t going to tell her if you snuck back in, but you were so drunk I had to come get you. So. I’m telling Ingrid.”

You studied her for a minute. “I don’t think you will.” 

“Oh you don’t? And why not?” Mapi said, grinning. 

“Because if you tell Ingrid, I am sure Alexia would love to know that you gave her hermanita a tattoo behind her back.” 

The smile fell from Mapi’s face as she stared at you in horror. “You wouldn’t.” 

You smirked. “I would.” 

“Sol, you promised you would not tell. This is not just about me, this is about Fresa too, and you cannot…”

You began to tune Mapi out at the name. Fresa. The day you’d met her had been… a rough one. You’d argued with Ingrid about Camila, and she’d left the house before you could make up. Camila had been together a week, and Ingrid was far from happy. You were left stressed in your room, worried that Ingrid was going to return and take back every nice thing she’d said over the past week or so. It had been a bad day, yes but you still remembered meeting Alexia’s little sister, very clearly. 

-------

A soft knock on your door had you looking up from the school work you were struggling over. 

“Come in.” 

Mapi popped her head in the door. “Can we talk for a sec?” 

You stiffened, though your face was completely blank. “Okay. Did I do something wrong?” You asked quietly. You were always more withdrawn after an argument with your sister. Mapi didn’t say anything about the fact that your cheeks were tearstained, or how you regarded her a bit frightfully. You did so many things frightfully, even now, even still. 

“No, no, not at all. I just have a favor to ask you.” You nodded for her to continue. “Alexia’s younger sister is coming over today for a tattoo, while Ingrid is gone. And I really, really need you not to tell Ingrid about it. Or Alexia. Or anyone.” 

You were a bit stunned by the fact that Mapi would trust you with a secret like this. No one had trusted you with… anything in a really long time. Things were different, you reminded yourself. “Okay .I won't tell.” 

Mapi looked at you for a minute, maybe surprised at how easily you’d agreed. “I don’t mean to make you keep secrets from Ingrid, it’s just that-”

“It’s fine, Mapi. Ingrid won’t think to ask me about it, so it’s not really lying anyway.”

Mapi was  aware that she was probably crossing a boundary by asking you not to tell Ingrid about this, but Fresa was practically an adult, had a good head on her shoulders, and honestly, she needed someone to show her some love. Mapi knew she wasn’t doing something bad, which is how she justified asking you to keep the secret. Fresa needed her sisters, but they weren’t paying attention, and she was tired of trying to get it. So, if Fresa wanted a tattoo from Mapi, then she’d get one. And honestly? Mapi didn’t feel bad about keeping it a secret from Alexia. She was pretty frustrated with the midfielder at the moment, but she could only fix the relationship between sisters one at a time. 

“Okay. Thanks, kid.” She said, giving you a small smile. You smiled back at her, just a bit, but it was more than Mapi normally got, so she took it. 

------

When Mapi had said Alexia’s sister was coming over today when Ingrid was shopping, you’d been much too focused on Mapi trusting you to really process what she’d said. Though it all came rushing back to you when you wandered down the stairs, responding to a text from Camila. She had just invited herself to the next home match and told you she didn’t want to sit with Mapi. You were trying to figure out what to say, because honestly, you liked sitting with Mapi at Ingrid’s games, even if she talked a lot; it was endearing. You had just decided to agree to Camila’s request when Mapi caught your attention. 

“Oh, Solstråle,” Mapi said excitedly. You looked up at her in surprise, your eyes flicking over to the other girl in your house. She was looking at you with a smile on her face, as if she’d just been joking around with Mapi. She had that Putellas aura, one that completely projected confidence. It intimidated you, and you faltered, unsure what to do, or say to this mysterious, beautiful girl. You didn’t want to lounge in the living room anymore, waiting for Ingrid to get home so you could apologize and see if she was still mad. You wanted to go back to your room where it was safe and there were no strangers. “This is Ingrid’s hermana, Solstråle,” Mapi introduced, giving you an encouraging smile. 

You took a minute step backwards, slightly panicked. You forgot you had social anxiety, sometimes, especially when you went so long without meeting new people, and being expected to talk to anyone other than Ingrid and Mapi. The pretty girl smiled, and your brain fell empty for a second. 

If she was beautiful before she smiled she was… otherworldly when she did. She was warm and happy and so… light. She was overflowing with love, and you could tell from just a few seconds of being in her presence. 

“Solstråle, this is Alexia’s sister, Fresa.” Mapi continued, pretending that you weren’t acting like a complete weirdo. You still couldn’t talk, your mouth suddenly very dry, and Mapi sighed a bit. That sent you reeling because normally, Mapi was so careful not to ever let you think she was disappointed in something you did. 

She really just wanted you both to be friends, and felt like she was blowing the introduction, but you felt like you needed to get out of there before you made even more of a fool of yourself. 

“You can say hi Sol she does not bite! Actually you-” 

You interrupted Mapi, hastily greeting Fresa in what was probably very poor, and very quiet spanish. Then, you made it even worse, somehow, by turning on your heel and making a break for it. Back to your room where it was safe. 

Mapi apologized later for putting you on the spot with a new person, and you’d apologized for acting like you’d never spoken to another human being in your life before. Mapi casually asked if you wanted her to get Fresa’s number from Alexia, so you both could be friends, but you’d declined. 

You didn’t need friends. Definitely not pretty friends that made you nervous, especially when there was absolutely, positively no way she’d like you back. Or even that she liked girls. What were the odds all three Putellas sister’s were lesbians? It seemed unlikely to you, and you tried to push Fresa out of your head as the weeks passed. You focused on Camila, and then you focused on anything but Camila. Fresa always… stayed in the background, though. Always a thought. Always there. 

-------

You blushed at the memory, at how insanely shy and awkward you’d been. You honestly weren’t really looking to share that story with anyone, let alone Alexia, who was one of the coolest people you'd ever encountered. 

“Alright, I won’t tell anyone. I did promise.” You stated, before you grew serious. ��But please don’t tell Ingrid, Mapi. It is never ever going to happen again, I felt so weird yesterday, it wasn’t fun at all. It was a one time thing.”

“What, you are never going to drink again?” Mapi asked, distracted and now slightly concerned. 

You decided to be honest, because vulnerability couldn’t be worse than Ingrid yelling at you. It would come close. But it wouldn't be worse. “No, I just…I realized I don’t need to do that anymore, blackout every weekend. When I used to do it before, in Norway, I was trying to forget. I was running away from my problems. I don’t need to do that anymore, I don’t want to.” 

“Oh.” Mapi said carefully, recognizing the weight of what you’d just admitted to her. “Okay. Fine. I won’t tell Ingrid. If you promise to stop taking pictures of me sleeping next to Scout, because they are not representative of our relationship. We do not like each other. We just happen to fall asleep in the same spot sometimes.”

You threw your head back and laughed. “Sure, Mapi. If that’s what you want.”

------

Ingrid hated ubering home from the airport. It took forever, the drivers were never very good, and she much preferred her girlfriend to come to the airport and greet her with a warm hug. However, Ingrid couldn’t miss the opportunity to surprise you both upon her arrival home. It had been a tough couple days for you, she knew. You were an emotional mess after the hospital, though you pretended not to be, and you hated not being able to do your normal activities. So, when Ingrid realized she could catch a flight in the morning as opposed to the afternoon, she jumped at it. She missed her girls, and seeing you both sooner was worth the hassle. 

You and Mapi had ensured the house was spotless. Early on in the break, you’d suggested making slime. Mapi had agreed, and it went about as well as could be expected. The dining room floor was now bare, the rug that normally lived there was nowhere to be found. Other than that, though, the house was clean, and Scout had gotten a bath, courtesy of Mapi due to the cast on your arm. That went about as could be expected, too. 

After cleaning, you’d slumped onto the couch grumpily. Mapi knew you were bummed about your hand. You were such an active person, always moving around, always doing something outside. Now, though, you needed to rest your very broken arm, which meant that you were stuck inside with Mapi. You were grouchy and short tempered, but the Spaniard was doing her best to keep you occupied. 

Both of you were too wrapped up in the intense round of mario kart you were playing to notice the car pull into the drive, or hear your sister approach with her suitcase. You could only play with one hand and the thumb of your broken hand, so Mapi promised to only do the same. As soon as you began to beat her, though, she began to cheat, sneakily using both her hands on the controller, much to your frustration. 

Ingrid felt a pang of worry flash through her when she heard a raised voice as she unlocked the front door. She knew what your mood had been like, and she was worried you were arguing with Mapi. You’d never yelled at her girlfriend before, but you’d definitely yelled at Ingrid. 

“I swear to god María, I am going to throw this at your head,” you shouted. 

Ingrid fumbled with her keys in her haste to get the door open. 

“I am not cheating!” Mapi defended. “You are seeing things, pequeña, I thought it was your arm that was b-”

Her voice cut off as Ingrid swung the door open, a small smile on her face as she’d realized what the argument was about. 

“Ingrid?” You and Mapi said, completely in unison. Scout hopped off the couch, trotting over to his second favorite person, eagerly sniffing at her legs. Ingrid petted him, her attention still on the two of you, frozen on the couch. The rainbow road music still played in the background, and it was truly a comical sight. You had been attempting to kick Mapi’s controller out of her hands, and she was trying to cover your eyes. 

“Ingrid!” Mapi said again, launching off the couch to almost tackle her girlfriend in a hug. 

“Hi my love,” Ingrid murmured, hugging Mapi back rather tightly. 

“I’m so glad you’re home.” Mapi whispered. “She’s scary when she’s grumpy.” 

“I heard that.” You said, frowning at the Spaniard. Ingrid was surprised when you yanked on the back of Mapi’s shirt, pulling her away from your sister, and took her place. The hug you gave your sister was fierce and if Ingrid had been wondering if you’d missed her, she no longer did. 

“Hi sweetheart,” she said, squeezing you tight. 

“Hi.” You mumbled. “Missed you.” 

“I missed you too, Solstråle.” Ingrid said with a smile, taking your cast into her hands as she pulled back. 

“How is your hand? How are you? Are you doing okay?” She asked worriedly, and you nodded, though you really appreciated how much she cared. 

“It’s fine, really. Mapi was… Mapi was really helpful. Couldn’t have done it without her.” You glanced at her, before turning back to your sister, changing the subject. “Blank canvas for you to sign.” You grinned. Ingrid returned that smile and dragged you into the kitchen without further ado. She completely disregarded her duffel bag by the door, and left her backpack on as if she couldn’t be bothered with it before she signed your cast. 

“Can I sign when you’re done?” Mapi asked eagerly. 

“When I’m done, yes,” Ingrid sighed, though she was endlessly entertained by her girlfriend’s impatience. Mapi was like you in that sense. 

Ingrid found a sharpie in the drawer, carefully grabbing your cast in her hands, instructing you to close your eyes. 

‘du er favorittpersonen min selv når du faller love, ingrid’

When she was done, she told you to open your eyes, and you did so eagerly, looking down at what she’d written. You weren’t expecting tears to flood your vision, but they did. ‘You’re my favorite person, even when you fall.’ It felt like it had more than one meaning. Ingrid would always love you. Regardless of your mistakes. 

You smiled at her through your tears, throwing your arms around her again in a tight hug. She caught you easily, enjoying the moment. 

“Ahem. MY TURN.” Mapi said impatiently, causing both you and Ingrid to break into laughter. You let Mapi sign, then, even though she wrote so big it took up half the cast. Ingrid just watched, enjoying the sight of her little family. It was very perfect. 

-----

:)

send! your! sol! thoughts! and let me know what you thought of this one 🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂

#woso x reader #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso fanfics #ingrid engen x mapí leon #ingrid engen x reader #mapi leon x reader #engen!reader #🍓☀️

[vincentbriggs]

Do you need a sewing machine to start making shirts and vests? Is hand sewing an option worth considering, or should I invest in a machine, in your opinion?

That's really a matter of personal preference!

Do you need a machine? Absolutely not! Every garment ever made before the 1840's was sewn by hand, and a lot of them after that too. I've sewn many garments completely by hand, including the early 18th century tiddy-out-violinist shirt, these bright orange breeches, and this green waistcoat.

Is it nice to have a machine? I think so, but again, individual opinions vary!

One of the costumers I follow sews everything 100% by hand because she finds it meditative and isn't interested in using a machine at all. Some people hate hand sewing and prefer to do everything by machine, with maybe a bit of hand finishing if they absolutely can't avoid it.

I do about a 50/50 split overall, maybe skewing a bit more towards hand sewing. I like to do pants, shirts, and nightgowns mostly by machine with some hand finishing, but for jackets and waistcoats I usually do considerably more hand sewing than machine, because I like 18th century tailoring techniques and think they give a nicer looking result. I do most of my buttonholes by hand, or I do them by machine first and then cover them in hand stitching.

Most people who sew do at least some of it by machine, but again, I don't know which way you prefer to work, so I'd suggest trying out both to see how you feel abut them.

For hand sewing, I suspect a lot of people hate it because they're using shitty needles and/or shitty thread, and perhaps haven't found good resources for hand sewing techniques.

Here's a post of hand sewing advice that I found quite helpful a decade ago. Use good needles because the eyes of the cheap ones have jagged edges and will ruin your thread! Use nice thread because the wrong kind will be twisty and tangly and will fray more!

Thimbles are good and useful, and typically they go on the middle finger of your dominant hand, and you use them to push the needle. I prefer metal thimbles and dislike using leather ones, but some people prefer the leather ones, or rubber ones.

The metal ones come in sizes, and I don't know how to find out your size aside from trying them on in person, but I know I'm a size 11.

One very important thing is that if you're hand sewing a garment, look for hand sewing specific instructions on how to do the construction techniques you're going for. A lot of the time when someone nowadays is trying to figure out how to hand sew a thing they'll just try and copy the machine sewn version, and a lot of the time that's inefficient and more difficult and the result looks worse, because machines and hands work very differently!

This is something I'm going to briefly discuss in the outro to the very long shirt video I'm working on, because it's so very common, and I've done it too! On several of my earlier hand sewn shirts I didn't know to turn the edge in on the front slit and do a little narrow hem, so I instead sewed on a facing for the front slit and cut and turned it, just like I'd seen on machine sewn shirts. This made it about 3x more time consuming, and the result was much bulkier and looked worse.

I've got so many more things to say about sewing but it's almost bedtime and I don't want to make this post too long.

For machine sewing, again there's a lot of personal choice. Some people like newer machines, some people like vintage or antique ones. I'm one of the ones who prefers solid metal vintage machines. I grew up using an old cast iron Singer, and the newer domestic machines just feel so plasticy and insubstantial to me. I'm used to ones that just do straight stitch and can also go backwards, but some people are perfectly happy with ones that can't even backstitch.

I do think that for a beginner the vintage machines are a better deal, because if you're patient and look around for a while you can snag one for really cheap at a thrift store, yard sale, facebook marketplace, etc. Also they're mostly metal and therefore harder to break.

I recently got a Pfaff (from I think the 1960's?) at an estate sale for 25 bucks. The zig zag mechanism is stuck and needs fixing, but I cleaned & oiled it up and it works just fine for regular straight stitching.

There are SO MANY online resources for how to clean, oil, and fix vintage sewing machines, especially the more popular brands, and a lot of the time cleaning & oiling is all they need. Read the manual and get an oil bottle with a nice long pointy thing so you can reach all the parts, and get some compressed air to whoosh out the fuzz. If it's old and hasn't been used in years, turn the hand wheel and observe every single place where metal rubs against metal, and Make It Greasy There.

(If you don't have the manual, you can often find those online too. I even found the service manual for my new-old Pfaff! I have the original users manual, but this one's for the people doing repairs.)

Oh this post is getting much too long! If you don't know yet if you like machine sewing, try seeing if you can use one without owning it, perhaps at a sewing class or in a makerspace. I know some libraries can loan out machines. A sewing class would probably be a good idea actually, if there are any available where you live!

Much like how you'll have a bad time hand sewing if you've got shitty supplies and no proper instructions on good techniques, you'll have a bad time machine sewing if it's not oiled well and if the tension is uneven.

There are so so very many things to learn about sewing and I hope I'm not making it sound too overwhelming, because I promise it's not if you take it one step at a time!

Also, when someone who's been sewing for a long time says "You may think you can ignore (piece of sewing advice), but actually that's bad and you will regret it", they're usually right. Oh, how I regret not learning to use a thimble years earlier than I did...

Sorry this post is so long, I hope it's helpful!

Basically, there's no one best way to sew anything, and you should try different stuff and see what works best for you, because everyone has different preferences.

#ask #sewing #hand sewing #sewing machine #long post

[divinesangel]

— 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞?

pm me for an affordable, in-depth personal or soulmate reading! ko-fi.com/solreads

— 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐚 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞!

— 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟏

this person's physical appearance has something to do with being balanced, yes, adaptable. they may have an agile build and could be capable of moving gracefully between different tasks and responsibilities. they might have this easiness in their body or their energy overall. there's also a sense of flexibility and like they're always in motion. this could also be a sign of them being some type of skilled performer. they seem to be tall with a strong and assertive posture that commands attention. beneath this facade of someone who moves with grace and effortlessly through the complexities of their own life, there is also someone quite passionate and someone who possesses a very unwavering spirit. their gaze speaks volumes of their readiness to confront any obstacle head-on and an unshakable conviction in their beliefs. despite the trials they may face, there is a sense of inner peace and tranquillity that emanates from within, and also a sense of serenity that you could get from this person. their presence exudes a calmness that soothes even the most restless soul, and in their eyes you will be able to notice a depth of wisdom which adds more to their character.

— 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟐

your future spouse is someone who changes their appearance regularly, and it's quite likely that they might have many clothes or many different types of outfits. this is someone who is probably very up to date with the latest trends. their physical appearance is the reflection of their transformative energy and anytime they go through some type of transformation or inner rebirth, you will notice that in their physical appearance. there is also an aura of intensity about them, as if they have very clear where they're heading for their purpose and direction. there is also this unwavering determination to overcome obstacles and achieve their goals, which makes me feel like their posture exudes confidence and resolve, as if they're always ready to charge forward towards what they want. this is also someone who might dress in a very practical way. they don't seem to be the type of person to wear things even if they're uncomfortable because it's an important thing for them. at the same time, there is this youthful energy that they exude as well, and a sense of curiosity. this person may appear youthful and energetic, always wanting to explore new opportunities, have new adventures, explore different parts of the world and expand themselves with that. their appearance may also convey a sense of innocence and freshness. they might like to wear dark-color clothing, with no design or pictures on them.

— 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟑

the physical appearance of your future spouse may reflect a quiet confidence and a sense of inner calm, meaning that they might possess the grace and poise as if they have mastered the type of art of channeling their inner power with gentleness and compassion. there is also a sense of symmetry and harmony, so the colors that they might use might be very pleasant to the eye, and this person could also be a careful person when it comes to weighing in their options and making a decision with what they wear. they also seem to carry themselves with serenity and composure, even if they face uncertainties or conflicts. at the same time, this is also someone who might have very strong features, very characteristic of their birthplace or birth country. they also exude an aura of authority, so they might be like a guide or a mentor to others, and they could also have this type of job position where they are very admired. they could possess a piercing gaze, but also a softness to their eyes that represents their empathic and compassionate nature. their facial structure may be symmetrical and well-proportioned, which goes back to the balance i mentioned earlier. they may also have high cheekbones and a strong or defined jawline.

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 !

hi! it's daphne here.

i'm currently offering personal readings for €5 and soulmate readings for €10 so don't hesitate to send me a private message if you're interested!

thank you for being here!

#pick a pile #tarot #free reading #personal readings #pick a card #pile 1 #pile 2 #pile 3 #pick an image #free tarot reading #tarot reading #pac tarot #pac #tarot messages #tarot pick a card #pac reading #pick a photo #level up journey #pick a picture #astrology #soulmate #astrology community #devi post #tarotcommunity #divination #tarot deck #witchcraft #astro posts #astrology notes #future spouse

[married-to-google-translater]

May I request Yandere Malleus and Neige with a female darling who is gentle and sweet! Like she likes to try and give him gifts he’d like! Please and thank you!

Yandere Malleus Draconia

If you thought Malleus couldn't get more possessive, you'd be wrong.

And his picture is already in the dictionary under "needy Yan dragon".

Malleus would love how gentle and kind you would be towards him.

But he would hate it when other people also spend time with you.

The fact that you are also sweet with others would not make him satisfied.

Malleus thought they wouldn't deserve it.

Most likely Malleus would kidnap you after you gave him a birthday present.

Malleus world would stop at that moment.

He wouldn't be used to this.

That was the moment Malleus realized how much he loved you.

It would also be the moment when Malleus would realize that he wouldn't want to live without you.

No one could come between your love.

You probably don't even know about these feelings.

Or you do and complete the "get kidnapped by a yandere" speed run.

If it's the latter option, you shouldn't have to wait long.

And if it's the first option…

You're going to have a really awkward conversation with Malleus.

Yandere Neige Leblanche

Definitely the reason why Neige would fall so hard for you.

This would be like fuel for his delusional beliefs.

You would be like a fairy tale princess…

Neige would be like your brave prince.

You two were supposed to be together.

In his opinion, this would be perfectly clear.

Neige would believe this from the bottom of her heart.

This was fate.

But at the same time, Neige would be worried that something would happen to you.

Even if Neige wanted to, she couldn't be with you every moment.

At least not yet.

His NRC application was rejected XD.

And his attempt to get you a transfer to RSA has not worked.

Neige doesn't understand why some higher power would be against him…

Most likely it would be just Vil.

But he would try his best for you.

You would have noticed how down Neige would have been lately.

So you decided to buy him a present.

Neige almost proposed to you when she saw this.

He would love you very very very much.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #yandere twst #yandere twst x reader #Yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere imagine #yandere headcanon #twst x you #twsited wonderland x you #malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia #yandere malleus draconia #Yandere malleus Draconia x reader #neige leblanche #neige leblanche x reader #yandere neige leblanche #Yandere Neige Leblanche x reader

[tacticalprincess]

can’t stop thinking about older bf! König and I js know that’d be something he would be so cocky abt 😭 likeee he totally loves the idea of you always thinking about him let’s be honest

-🎶 anon

oh for sure! wholeheartedly believes your pretty brain should only have room for him, feels a dark sense of gratification when you text and call him while you’re out doing other things, like with your friends or in class, showing him that he’s always plaguing your thoughts. sending him things that you want his approval for or that remind you of him. you develop a bit of separation anxiety from him that he finds adorable, doesn’t have to worry about you straying from him for too long because you don’t feel fully comfortable unless he’s by your side. so sweetly dependent on him, just how he likes.

the fact that he’s always in the back of your mind makes you unable to register the attention you get from other men as anything but platonic, and he’s watched you cluelessly friend zone guys your age who were clearly interested in you more times than he can count, the pride it evokes in him rendering him unable to hide his smug smirk when you slot yourself right back into his arms afterward as if nothing happened. you don’t even consider anyone else as an option because your heads too full of him :(

you tell him one of your friends pointed out how annoying it is that you’re constantly talking about or texting him, making you go all pouty and quiet for the rest of the day. he’s quick to console you, telling you they’re just jealous they’ve never felt the love you have for him.

“such a perfect doll you are. so devoted me, aren’t you?” he strokes your hair lovingly while you smush your face into his chest. it shouldn’t even matter what they think, his opinion is what’s most important.

#🎶 anon #bella writes⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ #older bf!könig #tw toxic relationship #tw toxic behavior #konig x reader #konig cod #konig call of duty #könig cod #konig x you #könig x reader #konig x y/n #könig call of duty #könig x you #könig x y/n #könig mw2

[tanuki-kimono]

I just found your blog and I am absolutely enamored by all these designs! I did have a quick question though

I'd love to one day visit Japan, and I love the idea of attending a festival in a rented yukata. However, I'm concerned about if I could wear one or not due to the sleeves. I'm disabled and get around using forearm crutches, and have difficulty fitting larger sleeves in them.

I guess I was just curious about if either the sleeves could easily be pulled back to my elbows, or if maybe there are yukata with shorter sleeves (I've never seen them myself at least.)

Hi! I am so happy you fell in love with kimono fashion <3

As for your question, there is a fantastic way to accomodate your crutches: tasuki 襷 sleeves holders. Those are cord used for holding up sleeves out of the way (when doing chores, physical/messy activity, etc).

You can see below how tasuki are tied: basically think of an ∞ with the crossing on your back and the loop up front gathering up sleeves on your sides:

Depending on your mobility, you can pre-knot the cord beforehand then slip it around your body.

The "right" way of doing it is this one:

Though to be honest, most people do like this and call it a day xD:

I am not sure how your mobility is so I'll also add other options to mix and match in order to nicely enjoy summer festivals in kimono attire:

Happi 法被 (festival coat): if you don't feel confortable strolling all day/night in yukata (the tighness of around your legs might be cumbersome), wearing a coat like those over your "normal" clothes is a good option to still be in festival mood :) Some are sleeveless, some have tube sleeves, and if not pair them with tasuki sleeves holder and you'll be good to go!

(pic below from)

Nibushiki kimono 二部式着物 / nibushiki yukata 二部式浴衣 (two parts kimono/yukata): exactly what it says on the lid, those are kimono/yukata tailored in two parts, a skirt and a top one. Those might be harder to find in rentals, but have the convenience of being super easy to put on while being less prone to unraveling :) The two parts are also gentler on the figure as you can more easily adapt tighness etc. If you're are able to shop for a yukata beforehand, altering is pretty easy: chop in two, add ties and you're ready to get dressed ;)

Tsuke obi 作り帯 (two parts belt): in the same spirit as above, those are pre-tied obi belt, with a wrap-around part and a knot part. They are super common for children, but also exist for adult. Altering a pre owned obi is also super easy, see for example this past note (for nagoya obi styled taiko knot).

Yukata can be worn with hanhaba obi (half width belt), heko obi (soft belt), or kaku obi ("men" belt). Heko obi would be my recommendation as those are unisex, comfortable, and suuuuper easy to tie.

If you want to try hanhaba or kaku, I'd advise for karuta musubi, a flat, sturdy, and unisex knot pretty easy to tie.

Hope your travel project will come true and that you'll have fun :D

#ask #japan #fashion #matsuri #summer festival #inclusive fashion #accessibility #mobility #clutches #tasuki #sleeves holder #happi #happi coat #Nibushiki kimono #pre tied kimono #two parts kimono #tsuke obi #pre tied obi #two parts obi #heko obi #karuta musubi #disability #着物 #帯 #浴衣

[anonymityisfunwriter]

Here me out. Grumpy!Bucky x Sunshine!Reader but based on Down Bad from Taylor's new album. I feel like there would be such an interesting story!

Down Bad

"I might just not get up, I might just stay down bad..."

Pairing - Bucky Barnes x Reader Summary - You were down bad for Bucky Barnes. You had a cosmic love with Bucky Barnes. But when you woke, you woke in blood, naked and alone, still you might just stay down bad. A.N. - How many fics do you think I've written since TTPD came out?

Bucky Barnes Masterlist | Inspired by Taylor Swift Series

Alright, hear me out...

BAMF!SHIELDAgent!Reader x Bucky.

Together, you were the definition of a power couple. There was no one better, no higher peak. Practically untouchable. You set the standard.

And now, you wish you could un-recall how you almost had it all.

Because it was over.

He sent hurtling back down to Earth without a second thought.

And you couldn't lie, you hit the pavement hard.

You were down bad. Worse than you could ever imagined. Most days, you debated on not getting back up, but you knew that wasn't really an option.

Not when people looked to you, watching and waiting. It was like you lost your twin. And while you mourned losing your other half, you felt naked and alone. Watched by all, consoled by none.

The sick part was that you never wanted this. You never asked to be thrown into the orbit of Bucky Barnes. You never wanted him to tell you that you were special, never wanted him to tell you were the chosen one. You didn't want him to show you that the world was so much bigger than the confines of your life. You never wanted him to make you feel safe in his arms.

So how dare he think it was romantic to leave you safe and stranded?

Some days, you stared at the sky and quietly pleaded for him to come get you.

You never wanted to need him. You never wanted any of it. You were perfectly fine on your own.

But you can't deny, you really loved his hostile takeover.

And just as easily, he left you all alone.

All alone trapped inside a person you no longer recognized.

This wasn't you. You were strong. Independent. You were the standard. You were the pinnacle. Not the person who burst into tears at the gym. You weren't the person who slammed on the emergency stop button because sobs wracked through your entire body.

But as you stood in the center of the training room, all eyes on you, there's no denying how he made a mess of you.

It was Wanda that pulled you into the locker room away from prying eyes. You furiously wipe away your tears, staring up at the ceiling - both to keep the tears at bay and to beg him to beam you up to that cloud of sparkling dust once more.

"Are you sure you're okay for this?" Wanda asks, she rests an easy hand on your back.

You roll your shoulders back, steeling yourself, "I've got this."

"You just - you haven't exactly been yourself lately. I'm worried about you."

"Just because I'm single?" You feel the tears welling in your eyes again. "Because I was so fucking down bad for him."

"Don't say that."

You've lost count of the amount of times you've cried this week, but you impatiently groan at yourself as you feel hot, stinging tears slip down your cheeks again. "I can't believe I'm actually crying."

"You're hurting. It's okay not to be a bad ass every second of the day."

"Fuck," you whimper, your head falling onto Wanda's shoulder. "I was so in love with him."

"I know, I know," she coos, stroking the back of your head. "He's not doing any better - if that makes you feel any better."

It doesn't make you feel better. The thought of him hurting nearly as much as you were only made it hurt more. It only made you ache for him more. You would either go down with the ship you built with him or burn as he held the matches.

You shake your head, pulling away from her. You rake your hands through your hair, then harshly rub your hand over your face. "Let's just get this over with."

"Are you sure?"

"It would make no difference if I was sure. Fuck it if I can't have him."

You really, truly can't believe you were this stupid. You can't believe you allowed yourself to get lost in his opal eyes. Never in a million years would you have wanted this.

To involve yourself with someone so irrevocably intertwined with your life. Because now, now, you had to listen to the stranger that knew every inch of your mind, body, and soul give you orders and directives on dangerous, life threatening missions.

Mere minutes after a full breakdown in the training room, you had to stand before him in the conference room all alone and listen to him talk like nothing happened.

"Are you sure you're up for this?" he asks, concern shining in his familiar blue eyes.

You roll your eyes, snorting, "Don't patronize me."

"I'm not. I'm just checking on you."

"Well, that's not your job anymore," you spit. "How about we focus on our actual job?"

"Fine." His spine stiffens, his jaw ticking as he speaks through clenched teeth, "Are we clear on the plan?"

The words leave your mouth without a second thought, "Would it matter if we weren't?"

"I thought we were going to be mature about this," Bucky's voice comes out low, so similar to the quiet rumble of his voice first thing in the morning.

You scoop up your share of your files and turn on your heels without another word. Without thinking, he reaches out, placing a hand on your shoulder to stop you.

The weight of his familiar touch is a shock to your system.

You know the mature thing to do. You should apologize. You should carry yourself with grace. You should set boundaries. You should hold your head high.

But lately, everything comes out with a teenage petulance. So fuck him. Fuck him for breaking your heart. Fuck him for taking away the love of your life. And fuck him for being the loss of your life.

You wrench your shoulder out of his grip. "Fuck you."

Bucky Barnes Masterlist Inspired by Taylor Swift Series

As always, let me know what you think! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛

Taglist: @marianita195 @meli18gonzalez @ludicbouquetfromearth @matchat3a @famousbreadcherryblossomsstuff @valoraxx @blue786sworld @buckyandgeraltsupremacy @geminigengar @ansaturn @ecolle @lexhalstead3 @ybflkmj @mediocre-daydreams @shanye1112 @thegirlnextdoorssister @toomanyfanficsbruh @moonlightreader649 @breathtaking-cynthia @mirikusashes@beans-and-toast @niyahcoca @katiechikin @elxvrr @antiheroxsblog @infamouslyclumsy @krissydclayton93 @buckysbarne @deadheadwbedhead @qualitygiantshoepsychic @whitexwolfxx310 @getosprettyboy @matchat3a @weallhaveadestiny @mostlymarvelgirl @honeydew3064 @michealharrypotter @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @withyoutilltheendoftheline @the-photo-hoe @rae-nna @sarachabeans1@double-shot-of-tequila @spookyparadisesheep @lunaalovesyouu @daisy-loves-bucky @roseproseposts @theoraekenslover @king814318 @maybesomedaytho @carlie-babes99 @sunshinechikin @as-white-as-snow-love @melala1030 @badasswlthafatass @armystay89 @multiversefanfics @cherrysscinema @breathlesspieceofdeath @ravenn-darkholme

#anonymityisfunwriter #anonymityisfun #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky angst #bucky x female reader #james buchanan barnes #bucky fic #bucky fluff #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes au #bucky x you #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #inspired by taylor swift #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x avenger!reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #down bad #the tortured poets department

[ribbonprincess]

hi love, please ignore if you don’t like this request! After seeing drew and Liliana I was thinking about nanny/ babysitter x drew in Charleston. I would prefer smut but ignore if your not comfortable with it 💕

note: this has been sitting in my inbox for sooo long,I'm so sorry I just couldn't find inspo for it. Also got lost in it and made it super long. Reader has a tongue piercing

🪐࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

you're sitting with Drew on the patio outside the house,his sister Mackeyla went out with her husband for the day, so she left Liliana with you and Drew. You met through mutual friends that you both don't talk to anymore and since you like babies she asks to babysit Lili sometimes; so now you find yourself next to her brother who you may have a crush on.

"Keyla didn't tell me you were over today ya know, thought it was gonna be only me and Lili" "yeah...I thought the same actually" you chuckle,looking over at him as you eye each other with a knowing smile "she set us up!" It comes out at the same moment making you both laugh as the realization hits "I can't believe her" you shake your head at the thought,using your palm as a headrest. "well,guess we should make the most out of it then" Drew says, eyeing your sundress clad body,it was nothing crazy since you were looking after a 8 months old baby but it had incredibly hot in South Carolina so it was the best option if you didn't want to melt.

"Like what?" your eyebrows are furrowed as you smile softly at him "don't know...I would love getting to know you better,Keyla has said great things about you" "oh- did she? I hope so.." His body is slowly shifting closer to you,making the two-seater swing move slightly. "I like your perfume" he says,running a fingertip over the skin of your forearm "thank you" your answer comes out way breathier than you intend to but the feeling of his touch is way too affecting. His hand is slowly moving over your face,running over your shoulder and the curve of your neck where he stops for a second before he cups your cheek with a gentle smile.

"mind if I kiss you?" he whispers,already leaning in as you nod. His lips find yours as you lay a hand over his chest and the other on his shoulder "you taste like Cherries" he mumbles, grabbing your waist to manoeuvre you on his lap "I like it." Your hands are running all over his figure,over his buzzed head and then back down his biceps before they settle on holding on his neck. "I would love- to take you out on a date before this" he's pulling away from your mouth, making you almost whine before you're immediately shut by his lips finding their way over your neck "but I think I might go crazy if I don't feel you Immediately." His words are making you grin from ear to ear as they travel right down your core.

A pair of rough hands set the moves of your hips over the bulge in his jeans,making you moan as the material rubs just right against your cotton clad pussy. "gotta be quiet doll, we're outside and Lili is sleeping -she could wake up any moment" "shit,yeah yeah...I'll be quiet" you reply,knowing damn well it won't happen. One of Drew's hands moves southwards,running over your thigh before disappearing under your skirt immediately finding your mound. His index finger runs over the wet patch of your underwear before rubbing slow but firm circles over your clit "can I take these off, gorgeous?" His voice is soft,making you melt even more against his chest "hmhm.." "I need words,love" "yeah, please" He quickly presses a kiss to your temple muttering a "good girl" under his breath as he pushes your panties down your legs before pocketing them "gotta keep these for memory."

His words make you almost roll your eyes,but before you can even think about it one of his fingers is passing through your walls "there you go...'s fucking warm,hm" the way he's groaning against your collarbone makes you think he's the one getting pleasured. He quickly pushes another finger in finding a steady rhythm as they curl nicely against that sweet spongy spot. "god,you look gorgeous" He quickly undoes the bows holding the straps of your dress, revealing your chest to him "won't you look at these,fucking beautiful" he mumbles,wrapping his mouth around one of your nipples as his fingers continue to move in and out of you deliciously.

"fuck-" your voice is muffled,biting into his neck probably leaving an imprint behind as he adds another finger in making you clench around him as you feel yourself getting closer. "you're making such sweet noises,princess. You're getting there hm? You can let go,I'm right here" His lips move away from your breasts, trailing over your neck before they slot themselves back on yours "you're doing so good,just need you to cum for me sweet girl" His words are sending you down a spiral as you grind into his palm,his thumb rubbing circles over the tiny bundle of nerves as your moans start get more louder "cumming" your body shake over him for a long second before you fall completely still over him "good girl...feel much better huh,gonna clean me up?" he smirks, rubbing his sticky fingers over your bottom lip.

Your tongue rolls out to wrap around the digits,tasting yourself as you clean him off "fuck- what's that? you got a piercing I don't know about?" he raises an eyebrow once he pulls his fingers out of your mouth "well,shit...you gonna show me what you can do with it-" Your figure is already moving off the swing and between his legs before a loud cry from inside reminds you of the baby "well,guess that's gotta wait" you smile,standing up on shaky legs as you enter the house,feeling Drew's eyes bore into your skill.

#🎀princess #outer banks #outer banks x reader #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks smut #outer banks imagine #outer banks blurb #outer banks fluff #outer banks x fem!reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron thoughts #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron blurb #drew starkey blurb #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey #drew starkey smut #drew starkey x female reader

[fazedlight]

Birthday (Kara character study)

Some people were just better than others.

Kara stood nervously in front of the shop door, clutching tightly to the money Eliza had given her. Would they be ashamed?, she wondered to herself. Would this be unbecoming for the House of El?

She had just turned fourteen in Earth years. It felt odd, given that kryptonian years were longer - but Eliza had encouraged her to calculate the date that her birthday fell on that year, and she discovered it would be four months after she landed. On that date, in keeping with Earth tradition, Eliza had given her a gift - money meant to be spent on something that would give her joy.

But there was no joy on Earth. What she wanted most was to hug her parents, to look out her bedroom window and see red sun. What she wanted was to plan her next trip to the Jewel Mountains or visit family in Kandor. What she wanted was to see Krypton - not comb through the Fortress’ static pile of data and text, but feel what it was to be home.

I’m not supposed to be here, Kara thought, still staring ahead at the shop door. I was supposed to join the Science Guild. She closed her eyes, sighing bitterly, before stepping forward and grabbing the door’s handle. There was no Krypton, there was no House of El, there was no Science Guild.

Stepping inside, she eyed the humans making their way around the shop, before turning to grab her basket. These humans, they had no obligation to a vocation - they simply were here because they wanted to be. A strange thought, to control one’s own destiny, rather than to rank according to family name and have one’s options chosen accordingly. What does it mean to just be Kara?

She looked overhead, reading the signs for each aisle, before her eyes landed on her target: PAINT

Kara made her way up the aisle, passing brushes and canvases, before reaching bottles of vibrant hues. She tilted her head at the array of reds before her, trying to cast aside her guilt.

Kara Zor-El was above the Artists Guild.

The paints weren’t enough, they would never be enough. But Kara found herself piling the different shades into her basket, her heart swimming with what she might create. She pulled brushes and canvases too, almost frantic in her urge to start creating sights that she was afraid she’d soon forget.

Maybe Kara Danvers is allowed to paint.

Kara shuffled her way to the front of the store, hands trembling, reminding herself not to clutch too hard to avoid breaking the basket handle. When she finally reached the front desk, she placed the basket nervously in front of the cashier, dropping the money Eliza had given her next to the pile of supplies. 

“Good afternoon,” Kara said, the words of a human language still feeling alien on her tongue. “I would like to buy these.”

#she misses her home and was traumatized by it and was traumatized by losing it #kid had it ROUGH #mel writes ficlets #supergirl

[mymarifae]

does anyone want to join me on the aventurine/argenti train. it's got all the perks of being as funny as any other argenti ship - especially given the random absurdity of their first meeting. what the hell was argenti doing in the depths of the nihility? who even knows anymore man. but like also i think it has the potential to be really sweet?

aventurine hasn't let anyone In since his sister died. he's long since forgotten how to Trust, and Love, and how to BE Loved. and this, combined with enormous amounts of survivor's guilt and trauma and being treated as an object, has really done a number on his self-esteem. he doesn't act like it (because he's learned that it's dangerous to be vulnerable; it's the one gamble he's not willing to take), but 2.1 gave us that glimpse into his inner dialogue and it is Bad in there

between his conversation with acheron, the note veritas left for him, and finding a sense of closure in the apparition of his younger self, he's on track to becoming better. we can see it in the way he pretty much immediately reaches out to the trailblazer to get some things off his chest once he gets his phone working again. and the way he's accepting what is basically a form of therapy from the doctors of chaos. but his self-hatred has been building up for years, and it's going to take a long time to unpack and unlearn all of that

so like, in comes argenti, right? he's a loud show-off, but he is SO earnest. he sees the beauty in everything and everyone. he's kind, and gentle, and so full of love. he also comes off as a bit... lonely to me? he's spent so much of his life chasing after idrila's shadow, and only catching a glimpse of them in his many near-death experiences (and isn't that something to think about...........). he's not like, secretly miserable or faking or anything - i think his exuberance is 1000% genuine. but humans are social creatures; everyone wants and requires at least some form of closeness and intimacy. to have a love to pursue in This realm... someone he can see and hold without needing to have one foot in an early grave . i think that would be good for him. that's all

anyway, it's clear that argenti was pretty enchanted by aventurine

like yeah that's kind of just how he talks normally but !?@,%&#& that's a lot of awfully romantic things to say about one specific person out of the several you apparently rescued (??????? god i love this guy he makes no sense. literally why are you even here bud). it seems that aventurine's more subdued state left an impression on him too, and well wouldn't it be pretty in character for him to start popping in randomly... as he does, because he can apparently just go wherever the fuck he wants. to check on this sad yet oh so beautiful peacock.. to try to bring a true smile to his face... to show him how kind and beautiful the universe can be......

i think aventurine might have a hard time laughing off offers of comfort and company and the beginnings of a courtship if it comes from someone like argenti. this man couldn't be disingenuous if he tried. he doesn't wear his heart on his sleeve as much as he rips it out of his chest to show you. it'll be a learning curve regardless - aventurine is too used to needing to constantly prove his worth to keep anyone around and to keep them from hurting him

but do you see it. do you see the vision. do you see how Sweet this could be. aventurine is about to receive more roses than he'll know what to do with

#i spent enough time on this that i think i can... #honkai star rail #argenti #aventurine #aventi... argenturinenope i hate this one actually #avegenti. dude i don't know don't ask me i'm just the messenger #like can i just say that what most ratiorine shippers are trying to squeeze out of that would be better found Here. #i don't mind the ship as much as i used to. veritas is kinder than i gave him credit for. i can even enjoy it if done right #but like #? veritas may be kinder than i originally thought but he's not that kind. #he's harsh truths and tough love. he started to soften after aventurine's unexpected death sentence and he has the potential to soften more #but guys i don't think a ratiorine relationship that takes place so soon after the events of penacony or god forbid BEFORE- #is going to go that smoothly #veritas has his head pretty deep in his own ass. it's going to take him a bit to get that out #he's more likely to hurt aventurine and send him right back into his defensive shell than he is to actually help him along his recovery #and/or aventurine is likely to dismiss any of his attempts to be more forthcoming with his feelings because of his perceived dislike for hi #and just how their working relationship always was Before #if you want to talk about that and the messy struggle to be better for each other after they stomp all over the other's heart #i'm all ears man. #but if you want something that's softer from start to finish and not so stressful... listen to me. argenti and aventurine is where that's a #i think both options are appealing tbh? in their own ways

[hwanchaesong]

☞🍹First Drink: He has lost himself in the sea of vodka and rum, so, why don't you do him the honor of bringing him back down here on earth. 🍸

🎧: The Weeknd - Alone Again

wc: 738

genre & warnings: angst (heavy lmao), fluff, comfort, mentions of being high and drunk, cursing, pet name, Mark is a celebrity but not an idol & reader is a normal college student etc etc

a/n: this is a part of The After Hours Bar series. if y'all want, you can read the other album inspired fics of other groups here.

The loud bang of the door being harshly opened and shut jolted you awake, panicking for a second before you recognized the slurring voice of your fiancé.

You hurriedly went downstairs, worried for his well-being. It's unusual for him to come home drunk or high and cause a ruckus, and if it does happen, that means that something is bothering him.

"Mark?" you called, then you followed his humming, leading you to the kitchen, and there you saw his collapsed body on the floor.

Cautiously walking up to him, your hands went to his shoulders, and that seemed to wake him up from his misplaced slumber.

"Baby!" he mused, pulling you out of the blue, and that left you no choice but to stumble with him onto the tiled floors of your kitchen, "I missed you."

"I missed you too, Mark." you plopped yourself up using your elbows, landing a palm over his chest that was heaving up and down steadily, "Is everything okay?"

His eyes shot wide open, gaze focused on you and it made you squirm, uneasy at his piercing glassy orbs.

"I'm tired of this bullshit." he mutters, devoid of emotion and you know that this is one of the nights where he's losing himself.

"Hm? Tell me more." you mumble, sitting up and gently cradling his head, putting it on your lap so he could be more comfortable.

He sighs in content, his mouth opening to speak whilst you tread your fingers in his inky hair soothingly.

"I am tired of people telling me what to do, how to act. It's like I'm only breathing for their satisfaction. I can't live with this fake life anymore."

He rambles and you listen, your heart aching at his hardships.

You will never fully understand the difficulties of being in the spotlight, as your life is as mundane as it could be.

You are a simple university student, studying hard to get your dream job that will pay for your expenses, born in an ordinary family and living in a medium-sized apartment.

He on the other hand is a famous guitarist and singer in a world-class boy band. He stands on top of luxury and stardom, and the pressure and expectations bring nothing but insanity.

That is where you come in, the normalcy in his hectic celebrity life, the main reason why Mark loves you so much.

You complete him in ways that no one else can. With you, he can say his inner, darkest thoughts and emotions without any doubts because he is secure in your presence.

Your hands went to his cheeks, massaging it tenderly before pinching it, making him whine in slight pain.

"Then rest here, breathe here, and live an honest life here with me." you say, and that's the only thing you can offer because there is no way you'd tell him to stop what he's doing.

Mark loves his job, you are well aware of that, so to give him advice about it is a big no no. That would be disrespectful for him and his ambitions.

This is the best option, to give him solace and joy when he needs it the most.

"I told you before, right?" you continue your mini speech of motivation for your beloved, "I am always here to support you. To make you feel safe. I am here to charge your battery when it's empty. After that, I'll let you go and have the time of your life performing."

"And if I get tired again?" he asks, his hands flying to wrap around your own.

"Then the cycle restarts. Come back home to me and I'll give you energy." you answered confidently, intertwining your fingers with his and resting it on his separate shoulders.

Appreciation fills Mark's heart, he would be lost if it's not for you.

"How will you do that?" he mused, thumbs rubbing over your knuckles.

You smile lovingly, leaning down and pressing a passionate yet soft kiss on his lips.

Beyond perfect, love personified is in the shape of you, and Mark wouldn't have it any other way.

You remind him of who he truly is, ground him back on earth when his mind flies a little bit too high, you heal his wounded heart and soul.

In this journey that he took, there would be times where he'll be left alone, but with you by his side, he's never lonely.

taglist:

@sunghoonsgfreal @yeosayang @shakalakaboomboo @mystverse

#nct dream imagines #nct dream fluff #nct dream angst #nct dream smut #nct dream scenarios #nct dream fanfic #nct dream x reader #nct dream reactions #nct dream hard hours #mark lee imagines #mark lee fluff #mark lee angst #mark lee smut #mark lee x reader #mark lee scenarios #mark lee hard hours #mark imagines #mark fluff #mark angst #mark smut #mark x reader #mark scenarios #mark fanfic #mark hard hours #renjun imagines #jeno imagines #haechan imagines #jaemin imagines #chenle imagines #jisung imagines

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

Regarding this post (https://www.tumblr.com/piratecaptainscaptainpirates/750832838350340096/okay-so-theres-one-thing-that-im-kind-of-tired), the racism of Stede having the crew members of color acting as servants was clear, but I always thought he did that because that's what Badminton and his officers would expect. If he had had everyone sit at the table, or even if he'd had the "servants" be both white and PoC, that would have given the ruse away. I saw it as Stede pulling off his first fuckery before he even knew what a fuckery was, and creating what he thought would appear to Badminton as "a bunch of upper crust lads trying their hand at the seafaring life". In other words, he was well aware that it was racist but asked his crew to go along with it so they could get Badminton and his officers off the ship as quickly as possible. Had Wellington not been such a blatant racist prick, they might have succeeded, but Jim was never gonna let that behavior slide. Quite right too.

Now, in S1E2, him and Pete thinking that the tribe were cooking and eating their hostages was incredibly racist and they absolutely deserved to be called out on that. But I never got the sense, even in those early episodes, that Stede treated his PoC crewmembers any differently or worse than he treated his white crewmembers. And especially with Olu and Jim, he valued their advice and counsel, and Olu had no issues speaking his mind to Stede, which to me meant that he never felt threatened by Stede or worried that Stede would abuse him or anyone else on the crew.

If I've misinterpreted Stede's actions, please let me know. I'm white, so I know I don't see a lot of the micro aggressions that you see every day, though I have been working on actively listening and learning.

Hey there! I don't disagree with any of your points here, but I think there are wrinkles!

Was Stede just falling back on the easiest option to allay suspicion? Absolutely! Was it still a racist move? You bet!

See, I think Stede's first fuckery is the "ghost of the forest" bit in s1e2, and this is more...him leaning back on established social hierarchy. He fails to think outside the box in a way that would allow all of his crew members to feel respected. Think about how Frenchie gets himself and Olu onto the party boat - by thinking up a creative story. Stede thought up backstories for his white crew. His crew members of color could have been African royalty, rich benefactors, envoys from distant lands...the possibilities of avoiding suspicion are endless, and they could've even used these exoticizing tropes their guests were unlikely to see through as a way to boost the Revenge's apparent prestige for their guests.

The important thing to remember here, I think, is that Stede's plan in the pilot fails not in spite of the racism of it but because of that. If their guests had known that it would be not only inappropriate but a social faux-pas to insult the crew members of color, then there never would have been a need to fight back against an escalation in racist language.

And I don't disagree that Stede doesn't treat his crew members of color differently! My point is rather that his racist biases are an important facet of his general ignorance of the lived experiences of others - like, he genuinely doesn't really get that most people are pirates because they have no other choice (there's a huge racial component there, no coincidence we hear it from Olu), he doesn't realize most of his crew will be illiterate, he fails to account for the differences in lived experiences he's enjoyed thanks to his relaive privilege. In these early episodes, he talks at the crew, not with them.

I love Stede and his journey so so so much! And every time I rewatch the show I love seeing all these ways that he's grown and learned.

[ham1lton]

The prompt idea is so cute💕. I'm giving you 4 options, choose the one (or ones) you like the most, if you feel like mixing and/or matching them it's also fine☺️. 011. Oscar Piastri 013. Charles Leclerc 019. Lewis Hamilton 047. Carlos Sainz - 🪻

011. a university lecture hall during a class w/ OP81.

— part of a series of drabbles! <3

professor hamilton’s creative writing classes were usually incredibly full. he was a very popular lecturer who managed to inject life into all of the older books that he would discuss. you had to wait at the sign up page like ticketmaster to get a spot in the limited class, but you managed it. so now you had your designated lecture seat, in the sweet spot of the hall. not too far up but not too close.

“excuse me?” the boy next to you whispered. “do you have a pencil?”

you frowned. who doesn’t bring a pencil to a lecture? especially one as good as professor hamilton’s. you rummage around in your bag and manage to come up with a biro. you hand it to him.

“thank you.” he smiles, and that’s the end of your conversation.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

next week, the same thing happens again. you sit in your designated seat. he sits next to you and asks for a pen. then he hands it back after the lecture finishes. this routine happens every week for the next six weeks and honestly, you’re kind of annoyed. who forgets a pen to their lecture every week? so by the seventh week, you say something.

“hi, again.” he smiles. “do you have a pen i could borrow?”

“do you not have one?” you ask. “it’s sort of imperative you bring your own materials to class. you can get free ones from the library.”

he looks taken aback, a flicker of embarrassment crossing his face. "i know, i'm sorry," he says, running a nervous hand through his messy brown hair. "i do have pens, i just... well, i thought it was a good excuse to talk to you."

you blink, caught off guard by his honesty. "an excuse to talk to me?"

he nods, a shy smile tugging at his lips. "yeah, i guess it's a bit stupid. but you always seemed so focused, and i didn't know how else to start a conversation."

you feel a mix of irritation and something softer, perhaps flattery, creeping in. "so, you’ve been bothering me for six weeks just to talk?"

he grins awkwardly, the tension in his shoulders easing. "pretty much. i'm sorry if it annoyed you. i'll make sure to bring my own pen from now on."

you pause, considering his words. "well," you say finally, "y’know if you wanted to talk, you could have just... talked. no need for this pen charade."

he laughs, a genuine sound that makes you smile despite yourself. you can hear an accent in his voice, australian? "noted. so, can i make it up to you? maybe over coffee after class?"

you hesitate for a moment, then nod. "sure. but only if you promise to bring your own pen from now on."

"deal," he grins, holding out his hand. you shake it, and for the first time, you notice how warm his hand is. maybe this pen-forgetter isn't so bad after all. “i’m oscar.”

“y/n”

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

author’s note: i chose the oscar one!! but someone else actually asked for the same charles prompt! so that should be posted soon <3

#ham1lton’s drabbles 🝮 #formula one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #f1 fanfic #oscar piastri x y/n #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #op81 x you #op81 fluff #🪻 anon

[satorisoup]

YOUR NUMBER, TO GO .ᐟ

ft. kento nanami

cw : fluff. bakery owner! reader. nanami being absolutely smitten with you.

wc : 897

nanami absolutely despised work environments. he didn’t like the exhausting feeling of sitting in an office, day to day, with nothing but papers and an annoying ring of the telephone to keep him company. he didn’t enjoy the daily routine of work, eat, work again, sleep, repeat. it was getting far too repetitive, and quite frankly, boring. how could he enjoy anything when work was always in the way?

that was until he spotted the cute little bakery on the corner during his lunch one day, practically calling his name to come inside.

as fate would have it, he entered through the dainty doors out of pure curiosity, and with the “—ding!” of a bell, he was greeted with the brightest, cheery smile he thinks he’s ever come across. the excited “ welcome! ” and delicious pastries reeled him in like a fish on a hook, met with a sweet girl dressed in an apron behind the counter. nanami believes he may have just found a gold mine.

he browsed the desserts from behind the glass case, unsure of what to decide on. the strawberry scones? maybe tiramisu? wait, there’s chocolate chip cookies too? he was stuck in his thoughts, options seemingly endless.

and you, an angel sent down to earth, began to speak again, tone sweet like honey, “ first time here? i can recommend you a few things if you’d like, sir. ”

nanami left with an entire box of pastries that day, and he didn’t have one single regret.

the next day, the same situation followed. and the day after, and again after that. his own legs began to betray him, automatically leading him straight down the path to your beloved bakery every time the clock hit 11:15. soon enough, he became one of your most loyal regulars.

you were incredibly warm and inviting. a breath of fresh air, giving him the push he needed to continue through his primitive work day. lunch time was his secret guilty pleasure, which was getting to buy some sweet desserts from an even sweeter girl, who called him “ mister nanami ” as she welcomed him in with a honeyed hello. over time, nanami started to realize that not only were you a pleasant person, but you were also incredibly endearing.

that now leads nanami to his latest predicament, which was how to ask for your phone number without looking like an idiot.

it starts with him showing up to your shop, dressed in his usual work atire, you looking in his direction at the sound of the bell. he makes his way to the display case, mind still whirring with what he should say.

“ oh! mister nanami, i have a new treat today! would you like to try one? ”

nanami is snapped out of his churring decisions, turning to you as you hold out a tray of what you had decided to make today. ah, strawberry sundaes.

“ oh, i’d love to. ” is what he responds with, smiling as you nod your head, taking one to neatly package up for him.

nanami watched your soft, delicate hands wrap his dessert in a pretty cellaphane, all the while you hum to yourself in content as you tie a bow to close it off. your soft humming to the tune that plays like a melody is all too enticing, and— oh, he’s staring. you’ve really got him wrapped around your sugar coated fingers, without a single idea of it. nanami curses himself, really, for not being man enough to grab your phone number before this. hm, how improper and cowardly of him.

“ here you are ! please, tell me how it tastes. i tried a new recipe ! ”

nanami is about to hit his thirties and yet, he feels like a child with the way his heart rate picks up at the sound of your voice. he shovels the comically tiny spoon into the sundae before taking a bite with everything on it.

you’re beautiful and you surely can make a mean sundae. that’s one thing for certain.

“ it’s delicious, as always. how much do i owe you ? let me grab my wallet— ”

“ it’s on the house ! ”

and another thing, you were just so damn generous.

“ i couldn’t possibly— ”

“ mister nanami, i insist ! you’re here almost every day, it’s the least i can do for my favorite customer ! ”

oh ?

nanami thinks all of his logistics may have been thrown out of the window, because the second he heard the implication of him being your favorite customer, accompanied by the precious blush that covers your cheeks, he really doesn’t mind being bold for once in his life.

“ ah. well i don’t want to be greedy, but i wouldn’t mind having something else on the house… ”

“ of course ! anything at all really, what would you like ? ” you innocently asked.

“ is your phone number on the menu ? ”

not a day in nanami’s life would he of ever expected himself to use such a cheesy pick up line on the sweetest girl, but when he sees that same old smile that drew him to you in the first place, he doesn’t regret it one bit.

“ for here or to go, mister nanami ? ”

#supa old draft that i decided to finally finish >//< nanami kento the man that u ARE !! <3 #kento nanami x y/n #kento nanami x you #kento nanami x reader #nanami x y/n #nanami x you #nanami x reader #nanami drabbles #kento nanami #nanami kento #jjk x y/n #jjk drabbles #jjk headcanons #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jujutsu nanami #jjk nanami #jujutsu kaisen nanami #nanami fluff #kento nanami fluff #jjk kento #kento x reader #kento x y/n #kento x you #jujutsu kento #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen drabbles

[pricegouge]

Don't mind me, just thought too long about keeping Price on a leash while he fucks you from behind 🫠

John Price x gn SAS captain reader oneshot | explicit

cw: Light pain play. Unsafe gagging practices. Praise kink. John isn't so much a masochist in this one, as just very enthused with reader's anger.

It's never easy working so closely with another captain, but John Price was perhaps the worst. Cocky, arrogant, brimming with the kind of self-assurance only a man who looked like him in a field like this could have.

A league all his own, really; a fact which he never let you forget, of course.

"Should give a horse its head when it knows where it's going, love," he'd murmur after you'd send your lieutenant away with detailed instructions on a task he could surely handle without your input. Ironic, that, seeing as John never seemed to tire of micromanaging you.

You hate him; tell him as much every time weeks of frustration in the field and no options other than lower ranking officers who'll get you discharged combine to find the two of you tangled up against the nearest sturdy surface. 

He only ever laughs at you. "Show me, then," he goads, and you'll scoff in disgust and slap him, or dig your nails into his flesh so hard you can feel the heat welling beneath your grip. "Just like that, love," he'll hiss, "harder, fuck," and you're never certain if he means riding or hurthing, so you do both.

Most times, he likes when you keep his hands pinned over his head as you sink onto him. He could probably break out of it easily enough (this is John Price, after all), but he never does; just lets you lean across his unreasonably long torso and plant too much of your weight on the delicate bones of his wrists. It makes for an awkward angle, but you don't mind so much when it gives you great access to his neck. This might be his favorite, and while part of you is loathe to give him anything he wants, the other part is deeply satisfied with the knowledge that you could embarrass him in front of his men just by ripping off his keffiyeh at the next strat meeting if he pisses you off too much.

Too bad you don't actually want anyone else seeing him like this, all marked up. It's not that you care about him, but there's an undeniable rush that comes with getting John Price all laid out under you, asking for your hands, your fists, anything. That's the part you're not eager to share any facet of.

He makes it hard to keep quiet, though, grunting and groaning like a pig as he does.

"Could you be any more obvious?" you hiss down at him, and his mustache twitches ominously.

"I can use my mouth some other way," he offers. You hum, considering, but when he opens his mouth again, it is not in pliant offering of his tongue.

"Saw your spar with Ghost earlier. He let you grapple him, that last time. Get him in the ribs first, next time, and -."

"I'm gonna fucking gag you." His laugh, loud and obvious, lets you know exactly what he thinks of that idea, and far be it from you to deny any opportunity to shut him up.

With your knickers in his mouth, your belt holding them in place, it should probably occur to you that this is a bit too much for casual sex. You should probably notice how eagerly John pulls you onto his lap. You definitely should have noticed the pattern of events which always lead you back here by now. You never do though, just as eager to get him hilted inside you as he is to be there. 

He groans when you sink onto him, neck cording with the effort to be heard.

"Should keep you like this all the time," you suggest, digging a thumbnail into his nipple. He arches a bit, lays back flat when you swat his pec.

"Christ, Price," you mutter as you wiggle on his long cock. It's a shame something so intuitively designed was wasted on such a right shit, you think, notching him impossibly deeper. Price swallows thickly when you squeeze around him, work him within yourself for a moment. He's content to watch you until he's not, heavy hands climbing up your thighs to encourage you to move properly. 

You swat them away. "Greedy," you admonish, but you're ready to move anyway so you do, fucking yourself onto him with long rolls of your hips. You forget most times, when gear's back on, and perfectly professional (unsettlingly self-assured) masks are back in place, what exactly keeps you stumbling back into his tent time after time. But like this, when he waits until the grip you have on his thighs gets dire and the pinch of your brow combines with your slack jaw to betray your pleasure to get his hands properly on you; like this, you remember.

John's hands are heavy and warm, coaxing and guiding. He's like this always, some squirmy little bug that's made a home of your ear likes to remind you, but it's only here - where the judgemental eyes of your officers can't follow - that you allow yourself to be guided; let him pet at you, reward you. Here, it's all justified. Honors owed. Tomorrow, surrounded by the best soldiers in the world and expected to stand on a pedestal as his equal, the doubt will set in and his praise will draw your teeth.

"Shit, John," you huff when his big palm stretches flat against your tummy and the way he pushes into you, you know he can feel himself there. He grunts, rocks up and tries to squeeze himself through the wall of your abs. You help, constricting around him, and the thick material of your belt folds under the pressure of how hard he grits his teeth, the needy thing. 

"Want you to fuck me," you tell him, and smirk when his eyes drag up to your face from where they'd been trained on your chest. He grunts, a little dazed, and follows automatically when you climb off him. You don't let go of the tail of your belt, keeping it trained over your shoulder as you settle on hand and knees. He follows, of course, unable to do much else, and hums excitedly as he climbs in behind you. 

"Hands to yourself," you warn, but he just hums again and slides his palms up your thighs like you knew he would. You yank on the belt, sending him sprawling over top of you. You only realize it was a mistake when he catches himself easily with a fist planted above your head and he chuckles darkly against your ear. You forget how big he is sometimes, how he's only here because he wants to be. He waits until you turn towards him and only pushes back into you when your eyes are locked on his.

You'd be ashamed of the way your mouth falls open if you had the capacity for it, but the way John fills you leaves room for little else. 

He knows, damn him. Fucks you so good you forget you're supposed to be in charge. He leans heavily onto you, gets your elbows to fold under you and follows you down, keeps his forearm planted on the mattress above your head. He took the belt tail out of your hand at some point, set himself free so he could murmur praises in your ear with ticklish lips. You swat at him half-heartedly but he just chuckles, holds your hands in his free one once he gets his arm tucked up under your chest. When you cum, he's still right there, panting the same air as you, mumbling about 'Go on, show me how much you fuckin' hate me.'

 You get yourself sorted enough to thread your fingers through his short hair and tug and that's all it takes. He groans deep and guttural, nips at your ear lobe so delicately it's as if he's afraid to hurt you, even after everything.

He sighs eventually, sits back on his haunches to look down at you. "So pretty, love," he murmurs and you sigh, doubt creeping in already.

"John -."

He swats your ass to shut you up and you glare back at him, any post-coital affection you might sometimes feel for him long gone. "Said you look fucking pretty like this." The words are honeyed, the tone is threatening. "Gotta fuckin' gag me cause you don't wanna hear it, huh? Well too bad, love. Not done with you yet."

You can't even complain when he buries his face in the seam of you.

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[keelt9]

Chapter 1

Masterlist

I collapse on the couch, letting my bag crash on the floor, taking a slow breath; all the walls have the same color, a creamy yellow, basic furniture already set, the only thing out of place is my suitcases… and me.

The apartment is a few blocks away of the rehabilitation center; Liam, my coach made all the arrangement for I just focus in my recover, in a couple of days we met the physiotherapist, a renowned one, Anton Guille, after a deep researched of the coaching team, he stand out as the best option for help me get through my injury.

The weather here is kind of cold, but I guess it is normal for the end of the winter, and fits perfectly with my morning. This day in particular it’s cloudy so before I leave the apartment I try to put on my hoodie.

Like a chronometer exactly after 30 minutes of his text Liam knocks the door, I rush for open as I try to put my hoodie on, just my head is in, and my shoulder is reluctant to move. 

“Here, let me help you.” Liam said as he enters helps me to roll it down. “Bad day?” He asks me if I feel more pain than usual. 

I grab my bag, and shake my head. “No, it’s…the painkillers are taking their time for work.”

Liams has that concern expression all over his face.

“Let’s go, or we'll be late.” I cut that thought by grabbing the keys and walking to the door, hearing him bluffing about something.

The center has those classic motivating colors, blue, green and white. As we walk to the room I keep watching different kinds of athletes training, doing rehabilitation, some with painful expressions, others with exhausted looks, and few of them with proud eyes.

We didn't have to wait because just after we closed the door, it opened again. This time, a tall man appears in sports clothes, probably in his early 30́s.

“Hello, you must be Y/N.” He walks and shakes my hand. “I’m Anton, I heard great things about you. Let me see what we are facing.”

Anton examines me with a long hard look, just with the simple touch on my shoulder I feel a hell all over my body.

“Well?” I asked him as he softly laid down my arm, he took a few notes and sat in front of us.

“It’s a severe bursitis; my biggest fear was that the damage already reached an important muscle but we are on time to avoid it.” The shoulder bursitis it’s a type of injury that used to happen for the excessive use over the shoulder, small “bags”, called <bursas> swelled up causing pain and stiffness.

I guess my expression must be talking for me because he takes a deep breath and smiles. “Don’t worry Y/N we will work harder and in a couple of months you must be brand new.”

Days passed and Anton along with Liam set a new routine for me, some changes in my daily activities and a lot in my exercises; some days I feel my body exhausted, others in a constant pain, slowly feeling my shoulder start to gain more range of movement.

“Easy Y/N, take it with calm, it’s the first day with this, don’t pressure your body.” The internal rotation stretch will help me to improve the rotation of my shoulder. Who will think grabbing a towel will be the most painful thing I do in months.

“Ok, slowly, that’s it, well done.” Anton helps me to relax my shoulder. “It’s all for today Y/N, go home, rest, sleep well, we see you tomorrow.” Liam gave me the last instructions before I went out.

I walked to the small garden the center had where a few athletes usually take their time for rest after a long session or just looking for fresh air. I checked my cell phone, stopping in the video of my team in our daily practice, even though they told me I shouldn't be sad; I can't avoid that nostalgic feeling. I was so distracted in the video that I didn't notice when my bottle of water slipped from my legs and got stuck between the crystal doors.

“Great.” I whisper, knowing that pulling it out will be a hard task. I slowly sit on the floor next to the door, seeing the wall across the garde, I stretch my left arm feeling with the tip of my fingers, the bottle not being able to grab it.

The irony of my situation makes me bluff, the only way to reach it is to twist a little bit my chest to give my left arm a few more centimeters, and grab it; as I do I feel a stabbing pain in my right shoulder. I grab the bottle but the pain is consuming me that the bottle slips one more time from my hands rolling through the floor.

I stand grabbing my shoulder but my bottle is already in front of me. “Here.”  

“Thanks, sorry I’m clumsier than usual.” I grab the bottle, by the time I raise my sight his face looks familiar, but the pain clouds any coherent idea.

“Injury?” He points to my bracelet, a sign that I'm in rehabilitation. Everyone who gets in the center and is there for rehabilitation gets one.  

“Shoulder bursitis.” He lends his head and pouts his mouth, I explain to him what is, he genuinely listens all the time.

“Sounds painful, still seems you're dealing really well.” I don’t know if it was sarcasm or a compliment. 

“I have to, if I want to be ready.” The Archery World Cup Team Event will be next year. If I want to be there I must be with my team for the primary competitions. 

“Hey Max, let’s go.” He observes that the person was at my back before extending his hand. 

“I’m Max, by the way.” I took his hand and shook it. “I guess I’ll see you later.” I nod to him before he leaves the garden.

Late at night in bed my mind with painkillers working, my mind clears. Tall, blue eyes, a curious face, blue cap with the logo of Red Bull, name Max. 

DAMN IT! 

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