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daze4all · 25 days

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7 Days Week HSR Sugar Daddies Series Part 2 In Progress Imagine Drabbles

Fake Fiance! Sunday, Artist! Argenti. , Childhood Friend! Jing Yuan

Previously Part 1 Monday- Hot Teacher! Ratio, Sugar Daddy! Aventurine, Yandere! Blade

Part 3 Pending: Dan Heng, Loucha, Boothill

Sneak Peak Snippets

Thursday-Tricked! Dan Heng x Maid : Prank Call Gone Wrong (TBA)

Friday- Fake Fiance! Sunday x Reader

Saturday- Artist Argenti x Muse! Reader

Sunday- Sugar daddy/childhood friend! Jing Yuan

Reader hired as a :

Friday- Sunday x Fake! Fiance! Reader - Thank God It’s Friday (TGIF also just thought funny not make him Sunday)

Yandere! Sunday especially likes adorning you himself carefully selecting what jewelry and outfit he thinks you look best in. No matter the cost having expensive elegant tastes.

You are on his arm as his partner to important family functions so that no one else tries to wrest control from him by foisting an unwanted engagement

“You do a bit too much as fake fiancé” you once teased remembering him this was just a job contract.

“For it to believable. The family must believe I fell heads over heels to bring in an outsider” Yandere! Sunday smoothly explains dabbing your mouth with a napkin and leaning close to whisper in turn in your ear.

Fake! Fiancé! Sunday was kind and polite always a gentleman but that kindness only masked his sadistic side that he let loose around you .

Yandere! Sunday worshiped you in bed and expected you to obey and worship him in turn.

“Forget the rest and stay with me in this dream” A kiss to your hand charming you with his gentlemanly act as Yandere! Sunday’s golden eyes stared at you pleading. The insinuation was heavy so you would be at his mercy alone.

“Don’t worry. No matter how much you are sullied I will still take you. I’ll always forgive you darling” Yandere! Fiance! Sunday would coo and promise stroking your hair.

Saturday – Argenti – Artist! Argenti x Muse!/Model! Reader

Paint me like One of your French Girls

How You Met: A Muse for Artist Argenti

Daily Life as a Couple

Boyfriend! Argenti likes to take you shopping design you up and pampering you with makeup. applying the make up.

“For whenever you smile you bloom like a rose” he promised fervently an inneoct courtly knightly behavior cheesy in embarrassing you into blushing. While another part of you worried how devoted he was to you.

For Boyfriend! Argenti occasionally wearing a matching outfit is a must.

Romantic Argenti favorite presented on valentines with a crimson tie for him from you and red rose ornament for your hair. Argenti tucked the rose gallantly behind you ear “For you my love” his eye fervent and devoted before kissing you passionately.

Knight!Argenti will be the one by the end with day sendoff “ If you ever settle down choose me my dear. “ with a fair kiss to the inside of your wrist.

Knight!Argenti while overdramatic at time his love was sweet and sincere and sometimes that scared you the most….

Sunday- Jing Yuan -Lazy Sunday Mornings

Childhood! Friend! Reader

Jing Yuan always knew you best, as your childhood friends but then you grew up and went your separate ways until he found you again.

Daily Lazy Sunday with Jing Yuan

Dates consist of the zoo, park, or library meandering but lazy days in bed are best seeing you tired out

Soft!Jing Yuan watches you meaningfully as you go about your lazy Sunday morning routine of pouring yourself a cup and fixing breakfast. Hand round your waist his chin propped on you maybe a quickie on the kitchen counter if you are up for it a big puppy dog wanting attention from you.

Mimi the snow lion padding to snuggle by your side to wamr your feet or jumping to make room for her during movie nights.

“I’ll treat you right so just rest” much better than the others is left unsaid but implied in his possessive golden gaze that consumes you with so much love. You are almost tempted, but you have urges to fulfill, and even his love cannot stop it.

Sugar Daddy! Jing Yuan goading you with words. “Does this feel good? Tell me? Sweet and slow, long and languid, or rough and hard, Your choice dear” he offers sweetly as he hovers predatorially above you.

Side note Reader Background might be….

-Seeking out the strongest men to renew your dying race as you were known to have very low birth rates

- Doing this to pay back a debt she has from her fallen planet.

- Possibly cursed by the Propagation or a Aeon of Lust Luxuria to constantly hunger for sex to live?

-Nymphomaniac or a person who just like sex with many men and that’s her lifestyle so why not make money off it lol

Snippets for now

Still writing full stories

A/N: Loucha I forgot, I guess because I could only do seven days of the week. Also, Gallagher not sure cuz of recent spoilers and Boothill not sure his character yet since so new.

But might write them separately since I had only 7 days of the week to assign. May redo with next set or as separate pieces. Feel like I can only edit/write only 3 pieces at a time lol

and lost dan hengs so have to rewrite it ugh.....

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artist-issues · 5 months

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“At least it's not ferociously attacking God quite as directly as Steven Universe did…”

Not that I’m surprised by this statement, but can you elaborate on this? Kinda intrigued by your thoughts on Steven Universe.

Okie dokie, you’re not the only one who has asked me about this, so I suppose I’ll poke the hornet’s nest. 😅 I haven’t talked about this before because I assumed that everyone who wanted to hear my kinds of opinions on stories wasn’t watching or interested in Steven Universe.

It’s like asking vegetarian if they enjoyed a turkey dinner. The turkey dinner was so obviously not made for vegetarians to enjoy, so why would the vegetarian even bother analyzing the turkey?

But I think if some people are asking me why I think Steven Universe is anti-God (of the Bible) its because maybe they don’t know what the turkey is. Not completely. (Maybe not you, because like you said, you’re not surprised by my comment.) So I’ll explain my thoughts on Steven Universe.

If you’re just following me because you liked some stuff I posted, but didn’t realize that I’m a Bible-believing Christian and don’t want to hear about it, unfollow me now. Because I’m going to talk about some hot button issues here and the trolls will come out.

Steven Universe is really well-done. The jokes are funny, the writing is believable, the characters have great chemistry, great design, the concept is fascinating, the slow build-up and reveal of the plot elements is great. But when you watch the throne room scene in the last episode of Season 5 “Change Your Mind,” it’s alarmingly clear how much the whole show is not just settling for defending and championing the LGBTQ+ worldview—it goes all the way to attacking what Christians believe, on the other side.

Anything that’s pro-LGBTQ+ is doing that by default, but this show goes out of its way to do that.

You have to understand: God created and designed us. Deeper than that; He created and designed romantic relationships, and invented marriage. He didn’t just create love—He is love. So when humans come along and do what we’ve always done since the fall, and say, “I’d rather define what Your thing is and how it works for myself, God,” it’s not only an incredible slap in the face, it’s an attack on God’s actual identity—and it’s destructive for us and the people around us. Like a fish insisting it can breathe oxygen.

But Steven Universe goes beyond that. It knows that the Christian worldview is it’s biggest opposition. It digs right down to the heart of the worldview-battle. LGBTQ+ worldview says, “I should get to love what I want and be who I am, because I’m me. Love is love. (By which I mean, any action or relationship I choose to call love is love, because I’m the one calling it that.)”

Biblical worldview says “No, wait, you shouldn’t base your decisions on you alone; what you want changes day to day, and you’re broken, so you can’t ever be satisfied based on what you want—the Bible says God made you for something, and you rejected that, and it broke you. You’re not how you’re meant to be: even what you want and what you think love is is twisted up and can hurt you and others. But if you submit to God He’ll help you, He’ll fix what’s broken and give you new life by making you how you were supposed to be: He’ll live in you and through you.”

Are we beginning to get the picture?

See, the whole thing with the opposing views between LGBTQ+ and Christian people is as old as time. It’s not a new debate. It’s Satan and Eve in the garden. She says, “This is not how God said things should be,” and Satan says, “Are you sure that’s what He said? He knows if you do this thing, you’ll be like Him. You’ll be god: you’ll get to decide ‘how things should be’ for yourself.”

He lied and said that disobedience would satisfy her. That she knew what her own heart needed better than the God that made it did. That the very act of being imperfect would make her godlike.

And then Steven Universe comes along and says “if every pork chop were perfect, we wouldn’t have hotdogs.”

And has a cast of created being characters who’s imperfections (Garnet’s forbidden “love,” Pearl’s obsession, Amethyst’s insecurity) are supposedly “the best thing about them; what makes them who they are.”

And has a main character who used to be a part of the god-like creator relationship, but used her power to come down to earth and completely change who she is into a fully different person.

And has a godlike Creator character who claims she “doesn’t need” her created beings (just like the God of the Bible) but they all have a little part of their creator in them so she has to repress their imperfections; she holds them all to a standard that’s impossible to reach called “perfection” and punishes them when they don’t meet it even though it hurts them to try; she expects them all to do what they were created by her for; she fixes them when they can’t meet her standard by shining her light through them and making them extensions of their Creator.

And has a main character who argues, fights back, tries to stop her, and is answered with lines that sound surprisingly like what LGBTQ+ people hear when Christians argue with them: “you’re only making things worse; you’re just deceiving yourself; even while you resist it your actual light can’t help shining through,” etc.

White Diamond just wants everything to be perfect. Like her. She just wants her created beings to “be themselves.” But what she means is, be how she created them to be.

And she’s the bad guy. She’s playing God in this show, and Rebecca Sugar is saying, “If God is telling us that can only be happy by being perfect, as He is perfect, and doing what He created us to do, then He’s wrong. Our imperfections are what make us special—unique—individuals—free—and there is nobody who has the right to take that freedom away from us, not even out creator!”

And you know what?

If God were like White Diamond, like Rebecca Sugar believes Him to be, Steven Universe would be right.

But He is NOT.

God is not a dictator who forces us to conform to a standard of perfection and then smashes us when we don’t meet it. He is a King who made us perfect to begin with, and we rejected him, because He allowed us to do that. He knew that true love was love that had to be chosen, and He wanted us to love Him by choice, so he gave us the option. But Rebecca Sugar doesn’t understand—there was never “Choose God or Choose Yourself.” There was only, “Choose God or Choose Nothing.” There was nothing except God. Then He created everything. There is no version of reality where you have something better than God, or even slightly less good but different, to pick. You’re not jumping from one ship into a smaller one, but at least it’s yours—you’re jumping from one ship into a void, and then complaining that there’s no other ship. That’s humans. That’s not God. / White Diamond didn’t make her creations perfect (Amethyst) and she didn’t make them for love. She made them for power. That’s not the God of the Bible.

Even when we did choose to try and love ourselves instead of God, and therefore warped our ability to perfectly love at all, He didn’t smash us. True, everything fell and was cursed, which is exactly what He warned us would happen if we chose it, but it was a natural consequence of breaking ourselves. And then He didn’t leave us that way. He didn’t give up on us. And He certainly didn’t just zap us, snap His fingers, quick-fix it and turn us all into robots who are extensions of Him, who say they love Him but only because it’s His voice puppeting us to say it.

No. He came to us, chose to give up His life at the exact point on the timeline when Romans, masters in the art of slow, humiliating, torturous death, would be the ones to carry out His crucifixion, and saved us Himself. Through the sacrifice of His own life. And even then, we still have a choice. We get to choose to accept that incredible self-sacrifice when we don’t deserve it, and be given new life and a relationship with the Creator who knows us and loves us better than we can love ourselves or receive love from others—OR we can just keep stubbornly insisting that our slavery to the opposite of what God wants is somehow freedom, and our twisted versions of love are genuine, and we’re not broken, and die like that. Die broken creatures who lived their whole lives stomping their feet and screaming “I’m not a creature, I’m a god!”

White Diamond sacrifices nothing, because Rebecca Sugar doesn’t know the God of the Bible. She just knows her idea of Him. She’s never actually gotten to know Him. If she had, she’d learn how silly and twisted her idea is.

Because you know what, yeah, if every pork chop were perfect, we wouldn’t have hot dogs. But people aren’t pork chops. And hot dogs have flavor (not better than pork chops) but they are awful for you.

Christians aren’t perfect cuts of meat with no individuality or flavor. Just because we all know and love the same God doesn’t mean we have no personalities. It just means we don’t think so freaking much about what we are, or who we get to be, or what we like and want. Jeez, what a self-centered, narcissistic, self-obsessed way to live. She plays Steven like he’s this wonder-child, innocent and full of heart, who encourages his friends to love and keep trying. But honestly?

This is very pretty animation but it’s not real. Steven looks happy hugging Steven but self-love doesn’t ultimately get you that.

That’s all based on the premise that what he’s encouraging them to do is actually good, and will make them happy, and will help them love better. And it just won’t. Not in real life. That’s not how any of this works. Self-love is just self-obsession. And that is a sure-fire way to hurt you, and everyone around you.

You’ll never be free by choosing to run to a worse master. You’ll never be satisfied with your crappy attempts at loving yourself, because you were made to be loved flawlessly and forever by someone who is Love Himself.

And choosing to identify with your imperfections doesn’t make you uniquely you. It just makes you exactly like every other human being marching in the same line since the Fall.

White Diamond’s not relational. She’s up high and distant. That’s not God. He made you to be in relationship with Him. He loves you, totally and perfectly, and He proved it by sacrificing for You.

So yeah. That’s the problem with Steven Universe. Come get me, SU fans.

#Steven universe #su #Pearl #amethyst #garnet #Steven universe fans #change your mind #white Diamond #Christianity #Christian’s #asked #answered #thanks #rattling the cage #Rebecca sugar

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misguidedasgardian · 5 months

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The Hour of the Wolf (5)

V. Fire & Ice

MASTERLIST

Summary: You are settling in your throne

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Targaryen!Reader

Warnings: Cursing, war, death, mentions of killings, genocide and war, threats, arranged marriage, SPOILERS for ASOIAF, and Fire & Blood, also, might spoil House of the Dragon, smut! finally, I’m calling dub-con, because its their first time and we are nervous, loss of virginity, a bit of blood, and all that comes with it… nothing too extreme

+18, MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 4.3 k

Notes: uffff things are getting heated

“I want my hair loose”, you said faintly, as the maids nodded with shy smiles, as they brushes your silver strands

Your dress was magnificent

A black background with red and golden intricate designs, open sleeves from your shoulders that had a beautiful drop, a low neckline.

The jewelry was exquisite, your neck was decorated with a golden dragon that curled around you, your wrists and fingers with gold as well, in your heart finger, you had a ring that belonged to your mother.

“Your grace”, called in Ser Erryk, “the Lord hand and Lord Celtigar, both want to see you”, you barely nodded.

Both men entered the room and you watched them through the mirror, as they saw you they stopped in their tracks, their mouths open, but they regained their composure quickly

“In this day your grace, we have something for you”, said Lord Celtigar, who had brought a beautifully decorated box with him. You turned around in your chair, to be presented with said gift.

Cregan stood behind him, giving him space, as Celtigar theatrically bowed, and opened the box and showed you the insides

You gasped when you saw it, tears threatening to fall as you covered your mouth

“How? Where did you find it?”, you asked, your throat in a knot

“A low-life was trying to sell it in the docks of Claw Island”, he said softly

Your mother’s… and well… Jahaerys’ crown

When your mother rebels and traitors swarmed the capital and threatened the life of your mother, she had to flee and hide all over the Crownlands… and to be able to return to Dragonstone, she had to sell the crown

A sad tale… but in the end…

They had brought it back to you

“You will be crowned with the crown of the conciliator”, said Cregan, “with your mother’s crown, and King Viserys and King Jahaerys before her”

“Thank you”, you murmured, a single tear scaping you

“You look gorgeous, your grace”, said Reysen

“Thank you”

“I’ll give the crown to the master of ceremonies”, muttered Cregan, and you only nodded

They left once more, and the maids kept brushing your hair

“More reason to have my hair loose”, you said softly and they nodded with wide smile on their faces

You were nervous, to say the least, it had been a long, nerve-wrecking week, in which you had met so many people you barely remember their faces, they had asked much things from you

And now you were getting crowned

Once you were ready, you asked the maids to leave, and they did

You watched yourself in the mirror, as tears started pouring down your cheeks

“Gods!”, you cried, falling to your arms folded over the dresser

You would give all of this in a heartbeat to have them back… at least one of them… only one… luke…. or Jace… or your mama

The door opened but you didn’t want to see who it was, you waiting for whoever it was to leave, but that didn’t happen

You felt two strong hands grab you and turn you, and in a second your face was against a soft velvet vest, a hand in your hair

“Shhh, everything is alright”, you whined when you heard it was cregan, hugging you tightly, “it’s all alright, I’m right here, with you…”

“I wish they were here”, you whined like a little girl

“I know, I know”, he whispered against the top of your hair

“I would give everything”, you insisted, like he was the god of death capable of doing such exchange

“I know”, he repeated softly, “they are ready for you, my sweet queen, it’s time… to make everyone proud up there, to shout to all corners of the seven kingdoms, that you, the last dragon, are still here, in honor of your mother, and your older brother”, you barely nodded, finally raising your head to look at him

“To tell all those sons of bitches that the blacks won. and you are alive and well, and they lost…”, you smiled as you wiped your tears. “I’m going to be there, by your side, or behind you, wherever you need me, i’m here…”

You needed him, Cregan realized, and not only to help you rule the kingdom, no, you needed him in a more intimate way… you were only a young woman, who lost everything, he had agreed to marry you, appealing to the power both of you held, but he could tell, that was not enough, in the intimacy you were both going to have, you were going to need more

So he leaned in, and kissed you

Just a peck, on the lips, as he held you softly by the face, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs, you leaned in gently, softly, and when you parted, he could see it in your eyes

In your still innocent eyes

You needed more from him…

You needed a husband, and a protector, a defender, a champion, a knight in shining armor…

And he was going to pick up that mantel

When Cregan stood up and give his back to you to open the door and start the procession, you touched your lips that were still warm, and smiled gently

Your first kiss… your first real kiss…

Cregan turned back to you and offered you his hand, you took it without thinking.

He had proved once again you could lean on him with ease, he was not going to turn on you, or judge you, or tell anyone… from this day forwards, he was in this with you, by your side… as your partner, as your King consort and Hand, as your husband in a few weeks, as your everything

The very thought frightened and excited you at the same time

He released you as soon as you came into the hallway, but you walked side by side, in complete silence, towards the throne room

The great doors were closed, and he looked at you intently

“I will take place by the throne, you will enter alone”, you barely nodded, “are you alright?”

“Yes”, you said shortly, he only nodded in turn, and he left you to enter the ceremony through one of the side passageways.

You just looked at the detail of the large wooden doors, playing with your fingers ahead of you

You were getting crowned, you were getting married soon, you were ruling a country because you were already of age… It was so many things… and you were alone at the top, with no senior to guide you, nobody you completely trusted… no… father or mother figure

Only Cregan

You took a long breath

You weren’t even nervous… you were longing to get this over with, your hands were sweaty and your feet already hurt for the shoes even though beautiful

Soon the music started, and the doors opened slowly, to reveal you to the room, people gasped and cheered for you, as you started walking slowly towards the end… towards…

The Iron throne

It was there, surrounded by spikes, melted swords of the enemies oft he house of the dragon

The cause of such bloodshed

The cause of the annihilation of your family.

All those plots… from the greens, all that coin and gold, armies, and at the end

You smiled widely

The blacks had won, you had won, your mother’s blood will sit on the iron Throne

Screw them

If you could, you would dance over his graves… if only there were enough remains of them to bury…

You climbed both steps of stone before the throne, as discussed, and you turned to the people, a golden cape moving behind you

“Our new Queen!”, chanted Erryk

Your small council was there, the Grand maester brought, in a red velvet cushion, the golden crown of Jaehaerys The Old King

“With the crown of the conciliator, we crown you”, chanted the master of ceremonies, he took the crown, raised it for everyone to see, and then he turned to you and he placed it gently atop your head. It felt… good… the weight rather than bother you, it felt like it grounded you

“Queen (Y/N) of house Targaryen, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and protector of the realm, the last dragon, the unkillable, and like your ancestor before you… the conciliator”, he said firmly

People applauded, cheered for you, as Cregan Stark moved forwards and took your hand softly, helping you up the treacherous steps until you sat on the Iron throne

The throne was cold and uncomfortable under you, but you sat straight, holding onto the arm rests softly

“Long live the Queen!”, he demanded of everyone, and again, they cheered and chanted your name for long minutes you thought were never going to end

After that was done, they paraded you to greet the people of Kinglanding that were gathered at the gates, with chants of your name, and everyone wanted to reach out to you…

There were so many people there, in the throne room, lords from houses you haven’t even heard of before, and the streets were packed, so packed, so many people screaming, reaching for you.

It came out of nowhere, you lost your footing, but before you could collapse, Creganw as there to grab you from your waist.

“The Queen, and future King consort of the Seven Kingdoms, Lord Cregan Stark!”, presented Eryk and then the people really lost it, screaming in delight, as the lords gasped behind you inside the walls of the Red Keep

Soon the doors to the exterior closed, and you were again inside the safety of the castle, With Cregan by your side, grabbing you by the waist.

“The marriage will take place in a week”, said Cregan to the new founded court, and everyone clapped once again, some of themes haring looks of concern amongst one another

Then he looked at you

You haven't discussed this, not at all

He had made that decision for you

You didn’t know what to think or feel

“So soon?”, you asked when you had him by your side, in the banquet for the celebration of your coronation

“Yes, everyone is here”, he said gently, “there had been rumors… of me… of us, gathering at late hours, I think is better to do it as soon as possible”, he said gently, you barely nodded

You had barely turn ten and eight a few moons ago, alone, trapped in your room

You took a shaky breath

Yes, you needed to get married, but you never thought it was going to be this soon! You talked about it, you understand the need, and that night when you summoned Cregan to your rooms, you knew it was happening

But one week?

You only stole looks at Cregan and you nodded, you then turn to your left, to your baby brother, who smiled softly at you, but the smile, just like yours, didn’t quite reach his eyes

He had seen so much

You too

Aegon didn’t even let you cover his eyes when he had his dragon eat your mother alive before your very eyes, and his eyes

Your brother was traumatized for life and there was nothing you could do to help him

One time, a few days ago, you tried to take him flying with you…

You had to hide the claw marks he left in your arms. He had scratch you to release him, in the midst of screeches and cries as soon as he saw your dragon in the distance

He was terrified of them now

“What’s on your mind?”, you heard Cregan ask beside you, you barely looked at him

“My baby brother”, you confessed, there was no point in lying

You looked around the room and you found all of the great houses dining and feasting, all of them but two

The Hightowers and the Velaryons

You took a long breath

Corlys as Baela had requested audiences with you, and you had denied them

You didn’t hate Baela, nor Rhaena, she had a dragon egg now… but…

It was bitter

You had lived with them since you were about ten, when your mother married Daemon, they were, for some time, your step-sisters, and even that, they were… your aunts? you didn’t even know…

But seeing them got you a bittersweet sentiment, perhaps because they were the survivors of all this madness, alongside with you… but the truth you would admit to yourself late at night… is that you would have traded them for your brothers anyday

You were resentful, that they were the ones to survive and not your siblings…

They had a life ahead of them, a grandfather that literally killed a King for them, to guide them and protect them

A man that betrayed your mother

She had grown resentful and paranoid, yes, but he turned his back on her when she needed him the most

You didn’t believe you could forgive him.

You were not a Velaryon, not by blood, and now, that you become Queen, not by name either… he never treated you as one, so that was it

You wanted to keep him at arm’s length

But you didn’t even realized… that there was another house absent front he festivities

You were glad to see the capital boasting with life, like the days of old, like when you wee young and you were living in the good days of your grandfather King Viserys

A tourney had been organized, as competitions and festivities, and even though you found it dreadful, there you were… granting so many favoors you had your ladies and even servants braiding new ones each hour….

Perhaps all the knights in there, at least, most of them, asked for your crown of red roses and dark green leaves and golden feathers.

At the end, you were crowned the Lady of Love and Beauty by the winner, a Knight from the Vale. You watched your small council closely, and they all seemed pleased

Telling constantly how much the people were taking to you, how much they loved you even

Their new, young, beautiful Queen

The bards were singing songs about your beauty and your strength, no doubt they had been paid handsomely to do so

You felt… powerful

You sat in the most dangerous yet important seat of the realm, you had the last grown dragon on earth.

You felt good, in control… until…

Until the day of your wedding.

Cregan had not accepted a marriage in the Sept, he did not follow the faith of the seven, and neither did you, so you accepted to be married in the godswood, by the heartree

It was going to create controversy, the small council said

But fuck the faith, the seven pointed star, and the heraldry that replaced all the dragons in the capital thanks to Alicent fucking HIghtower, and that you had already commanded to replace back to the likeness of your own dragon, and the three headed dragon of your house

You were waiting for one word, one revolt, one bad new from the citadel to burn it to a crisp… luckily, it had been none

You thought they knew it as well, that you were looking for an excuse to do the same thing Maegor the cruel did

So the day of your wedding came quickly.

And as the maids braided your hair in a Northerner style, then, you felt nervous. Truly, nerve wrecking nervousness makes your hands shake.

You were about to be married… to Cregan Stark

A rough, authoritative man,a handsome and strong man, a man who was going to go back and forth and leave you for months at a time, perhaps years, but…

“Everything is going to be alright”, murmured the sweet maid, one that had served you since you were a child, manage to survive the Greens, she smiled at you through the mirror

“Thank you”, you whispered

“He is a kind man, and I have no doubt he will care for you”, she said with a complacent smile, and you only smiled widely

“I know he will”

“If you’d allow me, your grace… your mother would have been proud”, she said then, and that brought tears to your eyes

“Thank you”, you cried with a smile on your face

You had married an entire continent last week, promising to give your life in service to the crown and the countries that were under your reign, and now… you were going to give your body… to another

To a man

Septas had taught you what you needed to know -according to them- about marriage, of how a woman must serve her husband, about you had to lay on your shared bed and let him do what he needed to do, bed you, breed you, how it was a woman’s job to have his husband’s children and heirs…

Of course you were nine at the time, your mother when she found out dismissed the Septa, fought hard with Alicent, saying that over her dead body she was going to allow the Old Queen to take charge of your education ever again

That was fun to watch, scary, but fun, to see your mother so protective and angry

And then you discovered “how babies were made”, by not by your mother in a nice chat or anything really, you discovered it the funny way, with your brothers and stepsisters, sneaking off the Castle in Dragonstone and going to the town, following soldiers to pleasure houses, then you were thirteen

And then stealing racy books from the library

But this was no time to think about that

You stood up, already dressed, your hair done, no much jewelry, only a nice beautiful white dress, yes it was the wedding of the Queen, but you had been celebrating your coronation for a week now, the Kingdoms had just been through a gruesome war, it was not fair, for them, for you to spend so much

Your wedding, a banquet afterwards, and baskets filled with food that were to be distributed through the streets of King’s Landing

And Cregan… well

He was nervous as well, more like, getting it over with already…

The sooner you settled in, with the throne and in your marriage, the better

He fixed the silver velvet vest on him, and the large gold chain they had made him wear, it was a warm day, and his pants, he felt them too tight, as he was waiting for you in the Godswood. Was he doing the right thing?

He was going to be in the depths of one of the things he hated the most…

Politics

When he gathered his army and marched south in search of “justice”, this was not what he expected, to the the second most powerful person in all the realms

It was a constant thought, he never, in a million years, would hope he was going to end up here, waiting for…

He raised his head when they announced you

There you were

All his doubts disappeared

You looked… breathtakingly beautiful, positively godly

Not intimidating, like an empress of an old dynasty on the day of your coronation, now… you looked like the embodiment of a god of the waters or snow itself, made flesh… Dressed in a beautiful white dress, no much finery but only you, your hair arranged in a

Northerner way that made him smile. Now his pants were truly tight

Tyland Lannister was escorting you

As soon as he had you within grasp, he grabbed your hands and accommodated you by his side, facing his commander of his army, an old man from house Mormont.

“Who comes before the old Gods on this day?”, asked the tall man

“(Y/N), of House Targaryen”, presented Tyland, with his deep voice, summoning complete silence from everyone present. “She comes here to be wed. A woman grown, trueborn, and noble. She comes to beg for the blessing of the Gods, who is here to claim her?”, he asked almost defiantly, looking at Cregan, who took a step forward

“I Cregan Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, I come here this day before the gods, to claim this lady, who gives her away?”, he asked

“I, Tyland Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock, and Warden of the West”, he said firmly, releasing you right next to Cregan, you both looked at him and smiled, and then turned to the man presiding the ceremony

“My lady, (Y/N) of House Targaryen, do you take this man?”, he asked

“Yes”, you answered, it came more gently than you expected, “I take this man”, you said loudly and almost enthusiastically, and you felt people chuckling, and bit your lip, embarrassed. But the man presiding the ceremony smiled at you, and your now husband, grabbed your hand in his big one

“So Cregan Stark, take your wife, Lady (Y/N) now, of House Stark”, he said, and Cregan was on you in a second, he cradled your face in one of his hands, you looked up at him and your eyes met his, just for a second before you closed them since he leaned in and trapped your lips into his. You tried to relax into the kiss, your second kiss ever, with now your husband

Those closest, members of courts and Lords and Ladies from the noblest houses applauded, the gardens filled with all of them, you separated from Cregan and greeted them

“My beautiful lady wife”, he whispered in your ear, making you smile at him

Gods he was handsome, especially with hat devilish smile

And you were married to him

Despite your secret wishes, the day went incredibly fast, and before you knew it, you were being led to your chambers… not the King’s… meaning yours, but others… Cregan’s… tonight, you were not a Queen, but a lady wife, the way it was supposed to be

The small council, and others Lords and Ladies followed you closely, but as soon as you were inside the room, Cregan stood up, shielding you from them

“Out”, he demanded, surprising you

“But my lord… the bedding ceremony…”, stammered Tyland

“I don’t care”, he said, and you then stepped out…

“No bedding ceremony”, you said firmly, and that was enough for them to leave you alone

Alone with your husband…

You looked at him nervously, he turned softly, to look at you.

You looked around in turn, recognizing these rooms immediately, these were the rooms Cregan was using now, but before they belonged to…

He moved slowly, his eyes on you, you looked back at him

“If this marriage is going to work, I need to make something very clear”, he said seriously, he came at you quickly, and grabbed you, his hand was so big against you that with only one he placed it at the side of your neck and face, he grabbed you softly but decisively, and make you look at him, “out there, you are the Queen, but here? inside this room? as soon as you step inside, you are mine”, he growled, and he smirked when he saw your pupils enlarged, “you are my dutiful lady wife, mine to command, mine to guide, mine to bed, mine to breed, am I clear?”, he asked with an authoritative voice that made your legs shake, you nodded, your eyes not leaving his, but they betrayed you. You were a bit scared of his words. He caressed your cheek, “mine”, he said, this time more softly, “mine to cherish, mine to care for, mine to love, mine to make love to…”, your eyes shined with excitement then and you smiled brightly at him

“Love?”, you asked as you were a little girl

“Would you like all those things?” He asked, his playfulness and rough eyes returning to him as he made you tilt your head back slightly. You managed to nod

“Your words, my love”

“Yes Cregan”, you whispered

“Inside this room, I’m your Lord husband”, he commanded severely

“Yes my lord husband”, you corrected quickly

“Good girl”, he leaned on and trapped your lips on his on a fervent kiss, you were barely able to catch up, the third time you had kissed Cregan… this time was different, this time, there was nothing to prevent you from… escalating the kiss

“Do you want to consummate the marriage now?”, he asked, and you barely nodded, “your words wife”

“yes husband”, you barely said, looking into his eyes, he only smile, but didn’t kiss you again, his lips instead, traveled south

You moaned softly, feeling his lips suck on a very tender spot in your neck

“In this room, we are husband and wife only, only us, two people, joined for life”

“Only us”, you whispered, with expert hands, he undoed your dress, letting it fall to the floor, he even undressed himself, as you didn’t even know where to start. He didn’t push you, he did all the work, as you were so nervous, terribly nervous.

He laid you on the bed covering you with his large body.

He kissed everywhere he could reach, he caressed your skin, making you shiver, moan, and spread your legs even further for him… You didn’t even know someone else could make you feel like this…

You tried to caress him in turn, his upper arms, his shoulders, his side, his mouth returned to yours, as his fingers worked you open for him…

The voice of the septa wouldn’t stop resounding in your head… you laid there, let him do his things, you wouldn’t know what to do anyways… and in turn… he made you feel the most exquisite pleasure… that you had never felt before…

When he entered you, you dropped a few tears from the sudden and sharp pain, but then, after he soothed you and gave you time to adjust to his size… he fucked you slowly, delicately, gently, holding you in his arms, and kissing all over your face and neck

You could tell he was holding up… from doing more things to you… but if only that night, he was exactly what you needed.

taglist!

@lyannesworld @tremendouswolfsaladranch @unlesshouse @mimsie95 @ostricx @amelia262006 @marihoneywk @ahristata @happinessinthebeing @dd122004dd

@lyannesworld @aestmilky @lightdragonrayne @delaynew @mxtokko @stargaryenx @lightdragonrayne @delaynew @mxtokko @good-night-starlight @yentroucnagol @beebeechaos @brakingboundaries

#misguidedhour #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark x oc #cregan x reader #cregan stark #cregan #house targaryen #house stark #hbo house of the dragon #house of the dragon #targaryen!oc #targaryen!reader

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oneforthemunny · 7 months

Note

I'd imagine that every time Halloween rolls around, Rockstar!Eddie and Nepo Baby are on the cover of at least one magazine with a spooky Halloween photoshoot. I'm seeing a werewolf eating (out) a fair maiden. Or a pregnant Nepo Baby tied to a table and a Rockstar!Eddie getting ready to sacrifice her. Or them recreating a scene from the biggest horror movie of the year.

Only over the years, as the kids accumulate, it goes from Playboy to Parade. And instead of tits with fang punctures, you've got a line of tots in skeleton pajamas.

(This was originally meant to be a blurb prompt and I got carried away so now I think it's more just a Spooky Thought I had to share with you. Whatever, Happy First Day of Fall! 😂)

oneforthemunny's spooky stories: rockstar!eddie x reader's time warp

or how halloween looks through the years for rockstar!eddie and nepo baby!reader :) ps pics below are for inspo that i used not specific more of just how the photos looked or what the idea was based off of!

October 31st, 1992

“Look at you.” Eddie grinned, dimples and shining eyes when they rolled over your frame. “My bride.”

That you were, both in and out of costume. It was the only recognizable part of yourself right now, your engagement ring. Your skin had been tinged a pale green, the SFX artist made your ‘gashes’ and ‘stitches’ look far too real for your liking. Tonight, you were the bride of Frankenstein, instead of Munson.

“Look at you.” You pouted, eyes rolling over his costume. Not Frankenstein, but… a vampire? “What-What are you wearing?” You huff, throwing an arm out at his costume. “We’re supposed to be Frankenstein and-”

“-Technically, it’s Frankenstein’s monster.” Eddie grinned, fake fangs making his smile more sinister looking. “I had a last minute change. Dracula and Bride of Frankenstein together? That’s scandalous. So much better, baby, believe me. No one’s done this before.”

You rolled your eyes, shifting the torn white dress to cover yourself. “When did you change your mind? While I was in makeup for six hours?”

Eddie laughed, hands running down your skin. “I like your hair.” He muttered. “Think you should do this more often. Pretty metal look for you, baby.”

“Yeah?” You hum, running a hand lightly over the electrified updo. “Too bad it’s a wig. Maybe I’ll keep it. Put it in the dungeon for you, when you want to get really weird and freaky.”

“I always wanna get really weird and freaky with you.” Eddie growled, a low rasp in his tone that had your knees shaking. His lips ducked down towards yours, the fake blood around his mouth making your stomach turn.

“No,” You shake your head. “Get these pictures first, then you can kiss me. I’m not sitting in makeup again, Munson, my ass was falling asleep. I was sitting there for so long.”

“I can help you with that.” Eddie growled, a playful smack to your barely covered backside that had you shrilling, glaring at him through white contacts.

October 31st, 1993

“You can barely even see the bump.” You huff, cradling your bare stomach in the mirror. “It just looks like I’m bloated.”

“You’re out of your mind.” Eddie shook his head, inked hands cradling your torso. “You look so pretty.”

Your lips settle in a pout, turning to the side, pushing your stomach out further in the pink, frilly lingerie from the 60’s. The sheer robe tied at your collarbones, flowing over your frame beautifully, parting so your belly could poke out. It wasn’t the pregnancy announcement you expected to have, but a fun one, regardless. One that would leave a shocking impression when it was sent to the press.

Eddie’s ‘costume’ hung around his waist, arms crossed over his bare, tattooed chest. You grinned at the green, scaly suit- designed to subtly resemble Creature From The Black Lagoon’s monster.

You smirked to yourself, looking at Eddie through the mirror. “My parents are going to hate this.” You grin, nearly proud. It made Eddie’s heart skip.

“Good.” Eddie snorted with an eye roll. “Not their baby. Not their choice.” He shrugged, hands roaming protectively over your soft, stretched skin. “Victor shouldn’t hate it too much, right? It’s a movie reference, at least.”

You laughed lightly. “True, and I’m… more covered than last time, right?” You grin, smoothing your hand over your exposed skin.

“Definitely, much more reserved than last time.” Eddie grinned, chin hooking over your shoulder. “We have to be more appropriate, Button, now that we’re going to be parents.” Eddie mocked your father’s posh, droning tone, quoting what Victor nagged about over the last brunch you had together- a month ago when you told them you were expecting.

Eddie’s lips pursed at the pinch still unfaltering in your brows, hands still smoothing over your belly. “Hey, look at me.” Eddie rasped, hand cradling your jaw gently, pulling your eyes to meet his. Those soft eyes that made your heart skip a beat every time you found yourself in their gaze.

“Fuck ‘em, alright? This isn’t their baby, it’s our baby.” Eddie muttered. “You wanna do this? We don’t have to. I’ll tell them all to go fuck off if you want me to. Or we can do something different. Do the Mummy things if you want to. Just say the word. Your call-”

“Ed.” The smile he’d been looking for graced your face finally. “I still want to do the photos. I’m just… I’m having a moment. I’m hormonal, and-and I’m just having a moment.”

Eddie grinned, plush lips pressing a kiss to your nose. “Have a moment. You look hot, though.”

“Thanks.” You muttered, eyes fluttering to look up at him through the strip of false lashes. “Not bloated?”

Eddie snorted. “Definitely not. Very pregnant. Very, very hot.”

October 31st, 1994

“Ed, is she looking?” You say through a smile, eyes still trained on the camera.

“No, she keeps looking at you.” Eddie huffed, lowering the camera. “Looking at your webs.”

No crew this time, oh no, Eddie wanted to do it all on his own. The set up wasn’t elaborate, but your costume was. The Black Widow, finished with webs that attached to your dress, hung around you for the perfect dramatic effect Eddie was looking for. In your arms, your little itsy bitsy spider, Persephone.

“Sephy,” Eddie cooed. “Fuck, babe, where’s the rattle thing? The lamb?”

“I grabbed it. Look behind you.” You nodded, cradling Persephone closely, her little hands reaching for you and pulling the fake spider arms with her. “You’re just a pretty little spider, aren’t you? The cutest little spider!”

“Found it!” The camera bounced on Eddie’s chest, shooting you a dimpled grin that had you flushing. “Look at me, Sephy! Look at Daddy!”

You fixed her in your arms, cradling her to your side. “Is she looking?”

“Yes, she is!” Eddie lilted in that babbling baby talk that had your heart swelling. “Look at my little spider. That’s so good, look at Daddy!”

“You sure you don’t want to be in this one?” You asked, hoisting Sephy up higher into your arms, swaying her lightly.

“Nah,” Eddie shook his head, looking down at the camera, pulling out the film. “Just wanna look at you, baby.” He winked.

October 31st, 1999

“Kensie,” You coo, looking down at the red faced four year old, desperately trying to keep her from tearing off her ears, two fuzzy clips that mimicked a cute werewolf. “We just need to take a couple of photos, and then we can change and go Trick-or-Treating, I promise.”

“I wanna go no-o-ow!” Kensie wailed, a piercing sob that had you cringing, the twins stirring in their black bassinet prop.

“Kensington,” Eddie grit, adjusting Persephone’s cape. “Trick-or-Treating hasn’t even started. There’s nothing out there right now. No candy.”

You glared at him lightly, though Kensie’s sniffles did ease. “No?” She asked, head tilting to the side sweetly.

Eddie shook his head, green painted frown softening lightly. “No, baby. Doesn’t start until six. We have plenty of time.”

“Better quit frowning, baby.” You hum, tapping your finger on Eddie’s creasing forehead paint.

This year's theme was a take on the classic, creepy show from the 60’s. What better way to celebrate your still growing family than this? Everyone else was favoring the Addams Family this year, but not the Munson’s- Munster’s.

“Are you ready, Mrs. Munson?” Phil asked, looking up from his camera at you.

You nodded, fixing your dress while you stood next to Eddie, one hand on the bassinet. “You think they can tell?” You grit through your smile, your dress snug when you turn towards him.

“No.” Eddie gritted back, eyes flickering down to your abdomen, just starting to swell with baby number five. “You look good, baby, always do.”

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cal-flakes · 10 months

Note

Completely obsessed with dealer!rafe. 😍

Can we please have him take his angel on a shopping spree. Like he buys her anything she wants, from food to designer jewellery. Anything to see the smile on her face.

okay so i love this.

╰┈➤ shopping spree with dealer!rafe

warnings: a tad nsfw if you look closely.

summary: rafe treats his princess to anything she wants for the day.

the sound of silverware scraping against dishes filled the restaurant while y/n twirled the pasta around her fork. she huffed slightly, hoping it would go unnoticed. it didn’t.

“angel, don’t worry if you can’t finish it, if you’re full you’re full..” he soothed, reaching across the table to stroke her hand.

“but i feel bad, it’s super expensive!” she whined, guilt ridden. y/n always felt bad spending rafe’s money, despite him having too much for his own good. “shh, i told you today was all about you, i don’t care about the money..”

after a bit of back and forth, rafe settled the bill before leaving the restaurant.

“okay princess, where do you wanna go?” he asked, gesturing towards the open street, filled with stores.

her face twisted in thought, stroking her chin amusingly. “ooh! bookstore!” she squealed, throwing her hands in the air excitedly.

he wiped a hand over his face as he chuckled, grinning at her childlike behaviour.

“books? i’m offering to buy you anything you could possibly want, and you want books?” he laughed, exasperated.

she frowned slightly. “i mean, yeah! you just bought me new shelves, i need to fill them?” she spoke, as if he should’ve known. “okay, okay..whatever you want baby..”

interlocking her hand in his, she pulled him through the bustling crowds of people and turned down a little side street.

she beamed up at him as he grimaced at the tatty old store they’d stopped in front of.

“baby, i love you but why would you wanna get old books from here? you don’t want me to get you brand new ones?” he suggested,

“rafe..second hand books are so much better!” she whined, smacking his chest lightly. he held his hands up in defeat before ushering her inside.

he sat patiently in the corner as she browsed the shop, trailing her dainty hands along the worn spines.

“hey baby, i gotta make a few phone calls, i’ll come and get you when you’re done..” he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. she nodded, turning back to the books.

thirty minutes passed, and she had read countless blurbs and descriptions before rafe returned.

“hey princess you done?” he asked, smirking as he slipped something into his back pocket. “almost! can you give me a hand with these please?” she groaned, struggling to carry the stack of books to the cashier.

he rushed to her side, shifting the weight of the books from her arms to his, lifting them as if they were a pile of feathers.

she leant into his chest as he handed the cash over to the lady, thanking him in a whisper.

after visiting a few more shops, they decided on taking a stroll along the docks, rafe followed her footsteps, arms clad with bags.

they stopped at a bench outside the island club, enjoying the sunshine for a minute.

“hey princess?” he turned, brushing some hairs out of her face. she responded with a hum, leaning into his touch. “i got you something..” he grinned, reaching for his pocket.

“what? why? you already spent so much..” she gasped as her brows furrowed.

he pulled out a white, rectangular box, lifting the lid tentatively.

her hand clamped over her mouth as she stared at the accessory, glistening under the sun.

“rafe?” she uttered, almost breathless. a tight lipped smile crossed his face as he glanced between her and the chain.

“it’s a necklace princess, it has my name engraved on it, so i’ll always be close..” he muttered sheepishly, the passionate display of affection almost unnerving him.

he was so deeply enamoured by her, every single day. he couldn’t get enough of her, and he certainly couldn’t buy her enough jewellery to properly display how much he adored her.

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x fem!reader #outer banks #rafe cameron #outerbanks rafe #obx #dom!rafe #rafecameron #rafe obx #dealer!rafe #soft!rafe cameron

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leclsrc · 1 year

Text

reciprocate ✴︎ mv1

genre: 18+, pwp, very very filthy, fem!reader

word count: 4.5k

You have trouble maintaining your vow of Max celibacy when you’re on vacation together. (part 1 here)

nsfw warnings under the cut!

18+ because… sexual tension like tons, dirty talk, masturbating, descriptions of sex, kissing, SEXUAL TENSION.

hope you like it everyone! :) req’d and i was gonna make this a drabble, but it kinda grew. kind of gives way for a part 3, so lmk if u would wanna read thaaat...?

You’re bored more than several times over the dry, chilly stretch of winter break.

With not much to do, you’ve taken to traveling before you settle back into reporting on what different teams are doing to prepare for March. It’s all car prep, helmet design, new advancements, some drama on budget breaches. But that all comes in the condensed end of February, so now you’re wandering around, aimless.

The invite comes after Christmas and before New Year’s. It’s also last minute, and you would’ve normally rejected it, but Lissie had managed to convince you despite yourself, so you text Daniel a thumbs-up, greenlighting his proposition to jet off to Monaco.

“I’m starting to think I should’ve just said no,” you mutter, dumping a bundle of clothes into your suitcase. Across you, equally busy, Lissie scoffs.

She looks up from where she’s busy folding something, then, “In what universe would anybody want to pass up on a free Monaco trip where we can spend the entire week drinking our body weight in cocktails and swimming it off?”

You laugh, nodding in semi-agreement. It’s not Monaco, you want to tell her. It’s because everybody’s going, even Max. “You’re right,” you say instead, making a show of being excited.

It didn’t seem the slighest bit sane to be going on a non-work trip where Max was going to be around. Your first tryst, barely a month ago, before the grand prix in Abu Dhabi, had given way to three days straight of retiring to his room, foregoing afterparties, and then, after deciding to go to one, sneaking back off and fucking in his room after just an hour of dancing.

Max is just as insatiable as you are, and it scares you—because it took every ounce of resistance from you to sit him down and affirm the statement that the constant sex was a bad idea. Outside of his room, outside his bed, you two still maintained the same caustic relationship, but the sex became like clockwork, and you could tell it wasn’t the best idea.

“We need to stop the sex,” you’d said, setting it down firmly. “It’s—it’s getting in the way of work.”

“It really isn’t. You still have no problem calling me out after races and then getting fucked less than an hour later,” he said.

“I’m serious, it is. And if not now, it will.”

He’d shrugged. “Fine.”

“It’ll be easy,” you’d said sharply. “For me, at least.”

It feels like cosmic karma, then, when you’re told by Lissie that Max’s room is beside yours.

—

Almost funnily, Max’s is the first face you see after you’ve settled in your hotel room. You see him first, and then notice he’s joined by Daniel and Lando, at the bar near the beach where everyone else in your little group is hanging out. You make eye contact that you tear away from instantly, willing yourself to ignore him.

Daniel notices you first when you show up to order yourself a drink. “Swam yet?”

“Nope,” you say. “Think I’ll join the girls and tan today.”

“Just glad you finally accepted the invite,” Daniel comments. “Lissie told me you almost bailed for some weird reason.”

Your eyes dart over to Max, who’s drinking whiskey. He’s already looking at you, gaze cutting. You clear your throat and look away. “I thought it wouldn’t be the best idea, but I’m about three drinks away from loving it here.”

The small talk continues, and you even get your drink, but eventually Daniel and Lando are too enticed by the sunset water, running off and yanking their shirts off on the way. You shuffle nervously on the barstool, just two seats apart from Max.

“You’re here the whole week?” He asks, not looking at you.

“I am,” you say, leveling his tone of nonchalance.

He makes a noise of petty disapproval, leaning back. From where you sit, you get fleeting glimpses of how he looks, and it isn’t helping your vow of celibacy. He’s big, which, while you knew this, still sends a throb of arousal through you. The tight tee he wears does nothing to hide what’s underneath, and his arms give you the impression that he could just throw you onto a bed or slam you against a wall like it’s nothing.

(Two things you could personally attest to, but that’s besides the point.) You’ve only just begun to get used to not having sex with him, but you’re starting to think you should get on the next flight off, because the thoughts creeping into your head of his hands, his tongue—

A cry of your name grabs your attention, and you blink, turning your head. Farther up the beach, Lissie and Lily are waving their hands around, calling you. “Let’s swim!” Lissie orders. “Now!”

“Bit busy there, were you?” Max asks, smirking.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say, downing the rest of your cocktail and jogging over to your friends. Absently, you hear him chirp another teasing remark behind you—hope you drown. The abrasive remark lets the remainder of your scandalous thoughts filter out for the time being. You’re positive, though, that they won’t be gone for the whole two weeks.

You stop in front of Lissie to undo the clip in your hair when Lily asks nonchalantly: “Why’s Max staring at your ass?”

“Lil, oh m—” You swat her playfully. “Don’t just say things like that!”

“Sorry! Jesus. It was a serious inquiry. Guy’s eyes are glued. Don’t you hate each other?”

You resist the urge to turn around and maybe get in a dig of your own, but clear your throat and shrug. “You’re hallucinating. I’m sure he’ll have some random girl in his hotel room later tonight, anyway.”

You don’t miss the way Lily’s face is still etched with lack of conviction, but you tug her toward the beach anyway, splashing around and playing frisbee with the Daniel, Charles, and Lando. At some point, talk of clubbing arises through the six of you, and at Lando’s insistence, you all agree to meet up somewhere to get hammered later. A warm Monegasque welcome, Charles had dubbed it.

A sluice of nerves slide across you when you hear Charles relay the idea to Max, and the latter reply with a fuck yes count me in.

You learn a few short hours later that Monaco lives up to its predestined reputation as a nightlife beast, greeting you with vigor and sophistication. You’d been here before, but mostly for work—the immense drinking, dancing, and occasional drug is still a novel experience. Evidently, though, the drivers have little trouble settling into it, accepting and ordering shots and extravagant bottles like they’re nothing.

You’re off work, you figure, and you have no concrete responsibilites tied you as of the moment, so why not join in?

Lissie is drunkenly slurring something into your ear, about how some guy is flirting with her but he’s a 6 at best and maybe I should just make out with him to make him feel better hey wait maybe he’s an 8 actually no 9, maybe 9.5 max—no he’s a 10 I’m fucking him bye, and Lily is pissed, likely being taken care of by Alex.

Charles had upheld a promise to remain sober, but said nothing of bringing a girl home, which he’d successfully pulled off just twenty minutes ago. Lando’s obviously busy spinning the tunes at the DJ booth behind you, howling with excitement every time he plays something he likes. Which, you realize, leaves you with Daniel.

You fix the hem of your tiny dress, throwing back another shot. Your tolerance doesn’t allow for alcohol to permeate fast; it goes slowly, and never results in too much of a headache, thank the Lord. You’re pleasantly buzzed, but you want more courage, more gravitas. A timely wish, considering you haven’t quite learned how much of a party monster Daniel is.

He leans in closer. “I bet you three shots of vodka you’re not kissing someone tonight.”

“I’ll take the opposing side,” you say, laughing. “Nobody here is doing it for me.”

“A gentleman’s agreement!” He hollers, waving a passing waiter over and ordering shots for people to share.

Although you’re in a roped off area of the club, there are still people walking around and crowding the area, including a girl who’s seated on Daniel’s lap. She whispers something mumbled and low into his ear, and you roll your eyes at his equally flirty response, pinching her thigh and kissing her neck.

He turns back to you after, like it’s a casual conversation. “How can nobody ‘do it for you’ in a Monaco nightclub, man?”

There’s a question you can answer, but woefully won’t. You change the subject instead, cupping two shots. “How about you and I just do three shots each?”

“Make it four,” he says challengingly. “And take a hit.”

“Already did, Danny,” you refute. You’d smoked half a joint before drinking anything, not wanting to get too caught up in the crossfade. You’re half sure somebody in the group took molly, but your mouth is zipped all the same. “Come on, four shots.”

“Up, up,” he pauses, thinking. “Two shots of Patron vodka—and two of Clase Azul.”

Agreeing, you search for the liquor on the lit-up table, throwing the vodka back with relative ease and then standing up to do the last two. You stumble when you place the glasses back on the table, shaking hands with Daniel and moving about to shake off the alcoholic taste in your mouth.

You pass by Lando, and he flips you off from his place at the DJ booth, but eventually you meander your way to the bar instead, wedging yourself into an empty alcove that only houses a storage room door. It’s quieter, and here you can start to feel the alcohol in your system. You lean back against the wall, and just as you wished, a guy eventually approaches you.

He’s cute(ish), tall(ish), and charming(ish), and even in your hazy mind he registers as passable and definitely way too drunk and overconfident to be approaching somebody as hot as you. His arm wraps around you, toys with the flimsy strap of the minidress you’d worn today. His accent is clearly touristy and American when he asks, “What, bored tonight?”

“Little bit,” you say lowly, leaning back and letting your lips curl up into a smile. “Nothing is really exciting.”

He hums drunkenly. “I could be exciting. Show you something exciting.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” you say, playing into him. “Tell me more.”

“I could tell you lots of things in my hotel room.” He smiles. “Don’t you want to have fun?”

“She’s had plenty, mate,” a voice unmistakably Dutch says, and pride wells up in you for having had your plan succeed so beautifully. You blink, reaching an arm out to gently push the guy out of the way—and meet eyes with the one behind him. Taller, broader, and evidently more sober than either of you, Max looks pissed (more than usual, at least.) “Piss off.”

“Christ, had I known she had a boyfriend, I wouldn’t’ve approached, man. Let’s all be calm.”

Max waves him off dismissively and approaches you, a glint of concern shadowing the irritance in his eyes. “This some kind of plan of yours?”

The alcohol has begun to rush through you. You’re hot, flushed all over, thinking of all the times you’d been in this position, purposely testing Max’s limits so he could test yours, albeit differently.

“Dunno what you mean,” you say. Your gaze slips downward, to the big, rough hand wrapped around the glass of whiskey. You want them on you. Then they meet his again.

“Sure,” he says, unconvinced. “You’re having a lot of fun prancing around like you’ve no responsibilities.”

“Lighten up,” you insist boredly. “It’s called a vacation. It’s for letting loose.”

“Are you letting loose enough?” He asks, suggestive.

“Max.” You lean forward, and the movement lets him see more of your chest, or what your dress allows. He coughs.

“No.” But despite himself, he’s leaning downward, too, his gaze stuck on your lips. “You told me yourself. It gets in the way of work.”

“This isn’t work,” you say, nerves hammering through you.

“Been looking after you all night, it might as well be.” His voice is cold and serious. He steps forward, effectively caging you against the wall with how bulky his frame is. “You need to be careful. I had to pry that asshole off of you.”

“What if…” You trail off, tilting your head back so you’re making searing, unbreaking eye contact. “That’s exactly what I wanted?”

You’re both frozen in place, staring up at him with the kind of coy you only get when you’re tipsy like this. Wide eyed, lip bitten, and dress riding up—this is exactly how Max likes you. Ready for him to wreck. One jerk of his knee in between your legs and you’re his. He considers other options: a light grip around your neck, or even just a hand on your waist would render you weak, too.

“You test me too much, Y/L/N.” You feel hazy from the way he says your name, in the way he always does—formal, professional, like you’re in the paddock interviewing him again. You can feel yourself growing wet.

But you’d gotten yourself into this mess. You wore this dress, took those shots, let that guy flirt with you in hopes that Max would come over and give you his time of day. Deny as you might, you know deep down this is exactly what you were waiting for. You press a palm to his stomach, feeling the hard surface there, fisting it in his shirt.

He grunts, lets his hand cover yours. “Schatz,�� he says, guttural.

He lets your lips meet, but when you lean in for a proper kiss, he stands back up to his full height. One look in your eyes lets him realize you’re sufficiently sober, and he turns and walks away.

—

A volleyball hits your shoulder for the third time today.

Prior to that, it’d hit your forehead twice, putting an effective end to your beach volleyball winning streak. Beside you, Lando lets out a strangled cry of defeat.

“The volleyball legend is tapping out!” Daniel hoots from a nearby lawn chair, mimicking the racing commentators you’re all familiar with.

“Piss off,” you say. “I’m off my game, too tired.”

You wave a dismissive hand to Lily and Alex and they flash thumbs up signs. You squeeze a bottle of water into your mouth, needing release from the thoughts plaguing your mind. The events of two nights ago weigh terribly heavy, annoyingly so, on your mind.

Not Max himself, you argue. His voice. His touch. They’re so irresistible to you. The way he’d grunted out the pet name he reserved for sex, the way his hand was so much rougher, bigger than yours.

Absently, you wonder, if he hadn’t stopped it—what would’ve happened then? He must’ve been resisting his strongest demons to put an end to the flirting like that. Any other time, you think, it would’ve gone differently.

He’d crowd you against the wall, press hot, whiskey-flavored kisses to your neck. He’d drop his glass, uncaring if it shattered; he could pay for fifty of those and then some. You picture his big hands roughly feeling you up, pressing against your panties, asking if you wore them just for him. Mumbling about wanting to taste you, get on his knees and have your pussy right here, for his tongue only. You picture his fingers, nimble, yanking away the lace and pushing into your cunt, kissing your jaw, moving, moving, until you’re fully in an open-mouthed kiss, messy and dirty, just how he likes you. He’d say something mean. Do you enjoy being a slut, letting all these people watch me take care of you? You’d nod. It’s true, you do, humping his fingers and chasing release. You picture his dick, hard and thick, big like the rest of him, pressed against your bare thigh, and—

“Your gelato!” Lissie hollers crankily, waving a cone of coffee ice cream in front of you that’s begun to melt and stick to her fingers.

“Thinking of sum’in, mate?” Lando’s amused, sunglasses-clad face comes into view.

You flip him off and apologize to Lissie, attempting to enjoy your ice cream before you descend into a state of craziness. The beach day passes with additional moments of blank stares, though none to a worrying degree. Most of your friends chalk it up to you waking up late or spacing out thinking of work, thankfully.

But, at least, you think. At least this just proves that you and Max can stick to your vow of celibacy. Right?

—

Max is never usually one to eavesdrop, but when he learned from Lily earlier in the week that your room was adjacent to his, he couldn’t help but become more conscious of it. Two days of silence, the occasional TV noise, and some stumbling provide nothing, so he’s since stopped paying attention. Between you two, you’re the one always out on the shore anyway, so there’s nothing much for him to listen to.

Tonight is different.

You don’t usually make noise—and he’s generally speaking here. You’re not a loud person. Even with the aid of a mic, your voice is composed, on the edge of quiet, during paddock reports. So why can he hear you so clearly now? The walls are a bit thin, sure, but something else contributes to it.

Something else, like maybe you’re doing all this on purpose.

The shuffling on the other side of the wall grows louder, then he hears your faint, breathy whimpers. He pauses, sitting a bit more upright on his bed, curiosity piqued, anticipates something else. Your whimpers grow louder, passing through the walls with relative ease.

He could totally tune this out, maybe put on a movie, hell, leave the room for a late night walk or a drink somewhere.

But he’s rooted to his spot, listening intently, wanting to hear more of you. He hears it then, so breathy at first he almost doesn’t. Max.

Your moan. He blinks, feeling himself grow hard. Maybe he didn’t hear it right, but then he hears it again: Oh, Max. Please. Wanna, wanna—

He palms at his dick through his sweats, swearing under his breath. You sound exactly like you do when you’re underneath him, two lithe hands wrapped around his wrist, begging for release, for his tongue, for his fingers. You’d been so sure, so high and mighty when you sat him down and demanded the sex stop, but here you are fucking yourself on your fingers, moaning his name.

Barely even ashamed, he tugs his dick out, already drooling with precum. He uses it to ease the glide of jerking off. Max, you say again, louder this time, higher. He remembers your conversation clearly, your solemn voice when you told him you couldn’t ever have sex again with the way it interfered with your jobs. The way you slid in a snide remark about how it’d be an easy challenge for you.

He can’t help but be amused, fucking his fist and listening to your moans, growing in volume as you near your climax. He wants to ask if your fingers are as good as his, as his tongue, his cock. He knows you’ll say yes but think the opposite. You’ve always grown so weak around him.

Gonna cum, he hears again.

He pictures you writhing on your bed, eyes rolling back, fist half-bitten to try and silence yourself. Your thighs are probably shaking, brows knitted together, tongue lolling out—he jerks himself faster, panting, chest sweaty. It’s your last, loud moans that send him over the edge.

I’m cumming, Maxie, fuck—! He swears under his breath, cum spurting out all over his fist. He catches his breath, pursing his lips, squeezing his eyes shut. Tries to purge himself of his thoughts of how you might look right now and retreats into his bathroom.

It doesn’t work.

—

Lando personal phone 30s ago

Lissie wants her own bacardi and could you get doritos too x

And a box of condoms pls mate xx

“One more Bacardi and a bag of Doritos,” you dictate boredly. Who knew a high profile, all expenses paid vacation in one of the richest countries in the world would still entail the mandatory grocery run? “…And condoms.”

Max turns from where he’d retrieved the rum, a brow raised in question. “Sorry?”

“Lando, not me,” you defend, holding two hands up. You two had been the unlucky pair who drew short straws and were thus stuck with a long list of niche items in an empty convenience store not far from your hotel. Outside, the sun’s already gone, leaving behind traces of orange in an otherwise dark sky. The group had decided to stay nearby and drink instead of going out tonight, since you’d all been at a club basically every other night anyway.

You review each of your baskets. “Seems like this is all,” you conclude, “except the condoms, which we’ll get at the counter.”

“Did Lando specify a… brand?” Max asks, pacing to the cashier. There are already some on display, with varying features and sizes.

You recheck your phone. “Nope. Just get anything.”

“Alright, then.” Max picks up an XXL condom box and waves it around. “For Little Lando.”

Irritated, you roll your eyes. “Be reasonable, Max.”

“You said get anything!”

“You’re so annoying,” you fume. You catch sight of the cashier looking uncomfortable with the tension between you and Max and figure the situation needs to deescalate. “Okay. Fine. Whatever, just get something reasonable. Put that back.”

“I don’t know what you mean by ‘reasonable,’” he says teasingly, clearly trying to push your buttons.

“Just get a standard condom box.”

“What is a standard co—”

“Get the ones you normally use,” you say, realizing the words after they leave your mouth.

The cashier coughs.

Shrugging, Max grabs the familiar box off the shelf and tosses it, emptying both your baskets right after. His face is amused when he turns and you see him again, but you’re both wordless while the payment goes through and you exit together. The car ride back to the hotel is quiet, stuffy, and tense, your arms crossed over your chest and Max’s occupied with both of the plastic bags.

“I’m surprised you remember what condoms I use.” He says with a smug smile when you’re both in the elevator. He’s parked his car on the basement floor, so you need to get to the lobby. You watch the lights signify what floor you’re on, waiting desperately for the ground floor button to glow yellow.

Still annoyed, you humor him despite yourself. “Why’s that?”

It dings yellow right as he responds. “You’re always begging for me to cum inside you, anyway.”

The doors open but neither of you move. Max watches you grow flustered and take a deep breath. “You’re a sicko,” you declare, walking out. He follows you with a laugh, knowing he’s right.

You meet the group outside the lobby, where they’re already piling onto a yacht, big enough for everyone. It’s ridiculously huge and expensive-looking, bobbing softly by the dark water. Charles emerges from the upper tier and waves to you and Max with a goofy grin.

After you help spread and deposit the groceries on the table, you walk around, finally detaching yourself from Max’s side. Eventually drinks ebb around the group, shots and crude cocktails that are fed to you like water. Buzzed with warmth and courage, you move to the back of the boat where there’s a ladder to swim, grunting when you find Max already there.

You clench your cocktail. “What’re you doing?”

“Preparing to swim, what’s it look like?”

“Oh.” You pause. “I didn’t know you could swim.”

You down the rest of your drink, leaning against the side of the boat and watching as he sheds his shirt and jumps into the ocean. Some of the water splashes onto you, and it’s cold, sending goosebumps throughout your body. He surfaces, hair darkened from being wet and smile dopey. A few strands of hair stick up.

“Wanna join?”

“Over my dead body,” you say, taking a seat and dripping your legs instead.

“The water’s nice.”

“It’s frigid,” you counter. “You should be wearing a snowsuit, dumbass.”

“How mean,” he says, diving underneath and surfacing again. “You’re too chicken, is all.”

Emboldened, by the buzz of alcohol maybe, the music, or—most likely of all—Max’s teasing, you nod. “Chicken?”

You get up, legs dripping, and pull your shorts down, tugging your tiny tank top off right after. You’re left in your bathing suit, and watch as Max’s eyes lock onto your tits, spilling out of your bikini top. His gaze is slow on you, like it’s his first time seeing you like this.

You step onto the cool ladder to avoid jumping, your back turned to Max’s as you feel more and more of your body submerge into the freezing water. You turn, taking a seat on one of the rungs. Max swims toward you, wiping a hand over his face.

“Not a chicken. But I’m not going any lower,” you say firmly, in the water from the waist down. “It’s too cold.”

“I’m fine having you like this,” he says lowly, his voice thick with desire. He cages you in, two big hands on either side of the ladder. For leverage, your legs wrap around him. You’re so close together. After days, weeks, of resisting.

You release a shaky breath, staring at him, his shoulders, his hands.

“How’s your vacation been?” He asks, lips near your ear.

“Fine,” you say. “Fun.”

“Bring anyone to your room?” You shake your head; he persists. “So you’ve had no luck there, then?”

“None at all,” you say blatantly.

“S’that why you’ve been…” A hand leaves the ladder to squeeze your thigh. “Moaning my name while fucking yourself?”

Your eyes widen, blinking, undeniably caught. You open your mouth to formulate a defense but you can’t. “What are you talking about?”

“Aw, don’t be shy, schatz. You were the one who kept insisting we swear off sex, but I think you’re starting to miss me.”

He presses two fingers to the crotch of your bottoms, rubbing softly. It’s enough to let you whimper. “Max—”

“You keep prancing around in tiny bikinis, skirts, tops. Is it on purpose, hmm? I can’t stop thinking about claiming you. On my bed, my balcony, over any surface.”

He quickens his fingers, and you whine. It feels so good, reminiscent of how wicked he is in bed. You picture it—being bent over the side of the boat, his hands big on your waist, cock sliding in and out of you.

“Feels s’good, Max,” you breathe.

“Does it?” He asks, egging you on. You nod, gripping his wrist—your hand’s still circled around it when he yanks it away.

“But remember what you told me? Before the break?”

“I—fuck,” you mutter, frustrated. “Please.”

“They were your words, not mine, schatz,” he says, easygoing as he dives back underwater, leaving you alone and sexually frustrated. You curse lowly. It’s going to be a long rest-of-the-week.

#f1 #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen drabble #max verstappen smut #max verstappen fanfic #f1 x reader

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earthtooz · 8 months

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in which: rin feels obligated to buy you gifts on his birthday,

warnings: FLUFF, suggestive at some parts so 16+, reader's gender isn't specified but reader wears dresses, rin's pockets are LOADED, rin and reader are adults, i pray he is in character.

a/n: happy birthday to the man i've dedicated my heart to. no matter how far i stray from you, it seems like it will never forget the beat of your drum. there might be another rin fic coming soon because this one was whipped up so quickly, if term permits, there shall be two rin birfday fics coming out bc he is special 2 me.

“rin, what is all this?”

sitting atop rin’s coffee table are a variety of gifts, laden with designer names that come in all kinds of packaging- boxes, bags, you name it, they were there. slipping out of your sneakers whilst rin places down your slippers, you’re speechless as you eye the pile of products, deducing that everything on that table combined was probably worth more than you.

turning your attention back to him, you somehow manner to stutter out a ‘happy birthday’ before embracing him tightly. he returns the favour, hugging you closer into his cashmere turtleneck where his subtle cologne fills your senses. in rin’s arm is where you feel most loved, so you cling to his warmth.

“how was your day?” you ask.

“fine, i was just waiting for you to get here.”

“i’m so sorry, hope i didn’t keep you waiting.”

“no need to apologise,” he shrugs, “i don’t mind.”

stepping out of his embrace, you gesture to all of the designer items atop the table. “so, are those your birthday gifts or something? you got quite a lot of them.”

“uh no,” coughs the dark-haired as he bashfully looks away. “they’re for you.”

you look back at him like he’s grown three heads, eyes wide and mouth agape at his confession. “for- for me? me?”

“because i wanted to get something for you.”

“rin- no, i can’t possibly accept this, it’s your birthday! not mine!” you protest. “i’m supposed to get you something, not the other way around-”

the soccer player squeezes your hips gently as his eyes glisten with self doubt and insecurity; a sight you see often. you saw it on your first date with him, you see it in moments when he tells you he has to postpone a date, and you see it whenever his bedsheets pool around the two of you, hearts and bodies laid bare for the other. these are just few of the many moments you’d see it, but the dulling of his teal orbs as a slight frown pulls at his lips never fails to make your heart clench.

you're certain you know what he’s thinking, and this time he’s questioning whether or not what he’s gifted you is good enough. a preposterous thought for anyone that isn’t itoshi rin, because no matter what, there will always be strings of doubt pulling at his mind, fragile only at your mercy and ready to snap at any second to release a downpour.

so, you put aside your guilt and grab his hands with yours. “thank you, rin,” you tell him, sincerely and wholeheartedly, “i was just shocked, but it really means a lot that you thought of me.”

“yeah?” light returns to his eyes.

“of course. i love everything about you, always treating me so well.”

he scoffs quietly, taking the cake box and bag from your hands to hide the flush on his face, the excuse of putting your things away for you a mere coverup. after all this time together, it seems like your words still have a spell over him.

“take a seat on the couch, i’ll be back,” murmurs rin, disappearing into the kitchen. you abide by his command, tiptoeing around the coffee table with a suspicious glance before settling in the comfortable cushions. the athlete returns quickly, this time with two cups of water that he places down on separate tables that isn’t the coffee table.

instinctively, he grabs your legs and perches them atop his lap and you relax right into the way his thumb draws circles on your skin.

“do- do you expect me to open all of them now?” you ask, slightly hypnotised by- well, everything. the gifts, your boyfriend, his touch on your leg.

“you don’t need to. i realise that there’s a lot,” he says, before reaching over for a certain bag. you momentarily glance at the name, brushing it aside as one you recognise before opening it and delicately pulling out what you discover is a dress. unfolding it, you cannot hold back a gasp over how beautiful it is. it’s in your favourite colour and a design you know to be quite flattering on you, and you're awfully comforted by just how well he knows your tastes.

“it’s so pretty!” you hug it against you, the fabric heavenly soft against your skin. “rin, i love it. so much”

a small smile appears on his lips. “i’m glad. there’s more i want you to open, though.”

he picks out a few more boxes, he scanning the variety before choosing the specific one he wanted. the following gifts consist of shoes and jewellery, and you realise that rin’s practically given you a full outfit. “you should wear this to dinner later,” he suggests innocently, as if this wasn’t all planned.

although you’re weak to his wish, you continue to pick on him a little more. “you think so? it is quite nice, but i already brought a change of clothes. what a shame, i picked your favourite too.”

“y/n,” rin warns, voice lowering.

“i’m merely joking. anything for you, my love. would you like me to try it on?”

he nods eagerly and you laugh, bright and genuine before reaching forwards to seal a lingering kiss against his lips. you try not to melt into the way his fingers curl desperately around your waist, because from his unforgiving grip alone, you can already predict where the night is going. however, you faux ignorance before dancing away and leaving your boyfriend to sit in anticipation.

you don’t want to keep him waiting too long, though, lest he barge into the room himself and ruin his own gift.

#minors look away at the next tag #AND THEN THEY HAVE SE-#eighteen plus blog when... i'm jk i could never #this ain't that good i'm sorry i have no time to cook i'm a busy student ok #also yes reader gives rin a gift but i didn't feel assed to write it so #itoshi rin x reader #rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #itoshi x reader #itoshi rin fluff #blue lock fluff

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pricesbeltbuckle · 3 months

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Hey love, it's me again! *hehehe*

How would TF141 react to finding out that their girlfriend comes from old money and is filthy rich and her parents are hell-bent on getting her married off to some other old money dude whom she does not like.

Money problems - 141

Pariring: 141 x Rich!Fem Reader

Warnings: Violence?,Marriage arrangements,Fluff

John Price:

Well First it was the money…How the HELL did he not know?

He always saw you in designer, you always had your nails done and hair done, people always gave you looks in public and whispered.

And you didn’t really go out to eat unless the place was practically empty.

So when he found out to say he was shocked was an understatement he was astonished. But you then had to introduce him to your hell hole family that you hated.

He dressed his nicest and acted the exact way you told him to but your family seemed so bored and unimpressed.

“Right so…This is only temporary because we know a man who has agreed to marry you-” Your mom spoke up and you rolled your eyes tucking your tongue under your lip and Price knew that look he just sat there and let them have it. “I’m not getting married to some stuck-up rich boy jesus christ! Every time I visit we have this conversation.” Your mom tried to reason with you, “Well we wouldn’t if you had just found a nice man-” You cut her off and practically screamed at her. “I DID HE’S RIGHT THERE!! WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU NOT SEE? SURE HE MAY NOT HAVE A MILLION DOLLARS LAYING AROUND-” “Listen ma’am I understand you want your daughter to marry someone with your kind of wealth but rest assured I can take perfect care of her-” You glared at John and he closed his mouth and let you talk. “See my point is I’m happy, how old is he?” “56.” “EXCUSE ME??” You spit your wine back into your glass and John held your hand under the table as he stood up with you.

“Odd, because I actually have a huge announcement.” And that's the story of how he proposed. In front of your pissed off parents and they were even more pissed when you said yes. But when your father got too old and had to pass down the family business to him? Man the look on his face was worth mass amounts of money.

What pissed him off the most is the business has never made so much money until John ran it. And you loved every bit of his sour expressions and dirty looks.

John 'Soap' Mactavish:

So it was pretty hard to keep any secret from Johnny, not that he was invasive or over-jealous. No not at all it’s just because he’s so easy to talk to and he’s caring.

So when you told him about your family and money he wasn’t too shocked I mean he noticed the designer stuff and the people whispering, he absolutely adored you though and didn’t wanna make a scene on it.

But when you practically dragged him to a suit store and then made him meet your parents he was shitting his pants.

You all went out to a fancy dinner and he shook your fathers hand and your mother as well but they didn’t seem impressed then you all sat down and looked over the menu.

“So, we found you a man. 56, he’s agreed to marry you.” John looked up from the menu, shocked as he gave you a side-eye of worry. “What? Absolutely not. I took time out of my day to introduce you to my boyfriend who by the way I LOVE. I shouldn’t have even bothered coming, I knew this would happen!”

John watched you yell at your parents and fight back and forth until he was snapped back into reality. “SO WHAT IF HE’S NOT RICH HE’LL TAKE OVER YOUR FUCKING BUISSNESS ONE DAY!!” And he cleared his throat and grabbed your hand under the table. “Well uhm…Nice meeting everyone here. I think I’ll take my leave with my lovely girlfriend.” And he waved them an awkward goodbye as he took you into the car, opening your car door for you and making sure you were settled as he got into the driver seat and put the car in drive.

“Let me guess..Taco bell and your favorite movie?” “Please. I can’t stand my family.” Tears streamed down your face but he rubbed your thigh and comforted you and made sure you were okay.

And to your word, he did end up running that company about 7 years later.

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick:

Now he knew you were loaded, he just put two and two together and he didn’t care, even if you didn’t have any money he’d still love you the exact same.

So that being said, when you guys had a movie night and your mom called you and you put her on speaker he decided to listen in while he paused the movie.

“Hi mom, what's up?” “Hey sweetie! I have some amazing news!” You rolled your eyes and looked at Kyle but he seemed interested. “What? What is it?” “Well…We found you a husband! He’s 54 and he owns a very nice business-” Kyle’s jaw dropped and you were speechless. “Not that you’re interested in my life unless it benefits you but I have a husband.” “WHAT? And you didn’t tell us?” Kyle choked on air when you said this and you encouraged him to speak up.

“Hello ma’am…I’m Kyle.” He spoke shyly and nervously and it seems like your mother wasn’t impressed. “Well hello Kyle and what do you do for work?” “Oh nothing special..Military.” Your mother gasped and hung up and Kyle just looked at the phone and then you.

“Marry me?” “What?” “I said, marry me. Your mom thinks we're married so let's get married.” You just shook your head yes as he stood up and put his shoes on. “Where are you-” “A ring, What’s your ring size sweetheart?” “Uhm..I’ll just come with you.” You put on some slippers and followed him outside to the car and went to go get a beautiful ring.

You got married officially around a year later and yes he formally met your family and they got accommodated to him and when he took over the business for your dad the family just put up with him for money.

Your sister being the worst constantly asked but Kyle always declined due to the fact you didn’t like her so he listened to you and didn’t ask questions. He didn’t have a death wish. He loves you.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley:

He knew about the money, matter of fact he knew your family but did he wanna spoil the fun? Course not.

So when you told him about the money he told you straight up he knew about the money, but since you didn’t mention your family he didn’t either.

But when you mentioned meeting your family he came clean, told you how he was your fathers security before joining the military. You gasped but you didn’t remember him for some odd reason.

But that’s maybe because he lied, he knew your father because he may or may not have been a hitman back in the day..But we’ll get into that later, maybe.

So when you took him to meet your parents he presented himself nice and your father seemed off, but you decided to keep quiet. But then your mother started speaking about marriage

“Ah, Sucks she’s already married to me.” “WHAT? IS THIS TRUE?” You nodded and showed your ring to her and he showed his wedding band like a trophy.

Was it maybe set up because you knew your parents would go nuts? Yeah but did you guys actually get married a year later? Yeah!

You and Ghost did eventually take over the company but you do most of the work due to his deployments but whenever he’s home he does as much as he can and he does whatever you ask of him.

Did it now come to light about him being your fathers hitman? No. He never told you and neither did your father.

Ghost didn’t wanna see his sweet angel worry about old problems that were already taken care of.

He loved how innocent you were, he didn’t wanna ruin it.

I loved this so much, your requests always EATTTTT🙈!!

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bonny-kookoo · 6 months

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Jungkook

𝐒𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐧𝐱𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐲 | Part 15

He's not (just) your boyfriend.

Tags/Warnings: Game Designer!Jungkook, Brat Tamer!Jungkook, kinda himbo!Jungkook, Non Idol AU, established relationship, smut, slightly Dom!Jungkook vibes, an IUD mention, slow fast slow sex, he left the window open oops, he cums on her tits, those piercings really got him devastated

Length: 1.1k Words

Callob with @euphoricfilter ! 💜

-> Masterlist

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

“I still can’t believe you took them out.” He complains while kissing down your neck, hand warm on your skin. “Can’t believe I made you change them.” He huffs, and you can’t help but laugh.

“Kook it’s just piercings.” You try and pacify him, but he’s clearly not having any of it. “It’s cute that you still wear yours, though.” You admit to him, and he beams at that, proudly leaning back as if to show them off.

“Of course.” Your boyfriend responds. “After all we got them together for a reason.” He tells you, as if it should be obvious. You remember how you randomly brought up the topic over some fancy cake you both had gotten at the café- and how his brows had raised across from you, as he’d suggested getting them together then, if you were scared of going alone to the appointment.

You thought he’d been joking. But that day, you learned the important lesson of always expecting Jungkook to mean what he says, no matter how ridiculous it might sound like.

“What’s your fixation on my tits today?” You laugh as he keeps kissing and touching them, and he whines at that, looking at you with a face full of frustration.

“I haven’t seen them in forever!” He argues. “Feels like I have to introduce myself to them again, they probably forgot me already.!” Jungkook complains, and you can’t help but throw your head back into the pillows laughing.

“Jungkook they’re boobs!” You giggle, but he just raises his brows.

“Wrong, they’re your boobs, and I love everything about you.” He corrects you, before you tuck some of his hair behind his pierced ear.

“Well, can’t argue with that.” You shrug with a smile on your lips. “Wanna fuck them?” You wonder, and his eyes sparkle.

“Can I?” He asks in disbelief, and you nod, moving to sit up- but he pushes your shoulder back down into the bed. “No, I wanna fuck you first. Can I cum on them instead?” He wonders, and you nod.

“Just aim. You know I don’t like it when you get it on my face.” You pout, making him nod.

“I’ll keep it in mind.” he tells you, before he moves to push himself in- though he stops, freezes after not much more than the head of his length has been making its way inside you. “You still have your IDU right?” He asks you in shock, and you roll your eyes.

“First of all it’s IUD you nerd-” You whine, “-second of all that fight was not worth taking that thing out.” You explain to him, and he sighs, before he basically shoves himself into you, causing you to curse. “Fuck-” your legs wrap around his waist, his body built too perfect for them not to settle there, while your hands cling to his shoulders.

“Not much to say now huh?” He chuckles, keeping his pace slow but deep, bedframe protesting in quiet sounds as he rocks your body back and forth beneath him.

“Fuck you-” You laugh out of breath, and he can’t help but grin as well as he leans down to kiss your neck.

“Too bad, right now I’m busy fucking you.” He jokes, before he speeds up, wet sounds echoing off the walls of the bedroom you’re in, but only partially so- since the balcony window is still wide open, sounds of seagulls in the background creating an almost serene feeling for him.

This is exactly what he’d pictured. An expensive house, good food, extraordinary view, and your body connected to his in the most intimate of ways.

Your words are no longer making sense as he slows down, moves to kiss you instead, all open mouthed as if his goal is to devour your soul with every breath shared. His hands move to grab at the flesh of your thighs, one of his palms unable to be controlled as it smacks down harshly, earning a whimper from you as you clench around his cock pressed inside you. He’s no longer talking either, mind completely taken over by his own lust as he begins the chase again, hips snapping into you almost frantically as his end crawls near.

He doesn’t want it to be over yet- but then again, he also has more than half a week left to make up for all the intimacy you both didn’t manage to involve yourselves in like you normally do. And he’s already got ideas how to get himself back on top of the leaderboard of his app.

It used to be just for the two of you. But a few months ago, he uploaded and published it instead- making good money with it now, adding some even while you’re both clearly not thinking about it.

Your name falls slurred from your lips, and he knows you’re definitely close. Years of being together has given him the opportunity to learn about your body inside and out, your boyfriend now almost an expert at every little quirk you have. From what foods you like to the approximate dates your period might start-

He's got it all written down inside his head.

Because that’s also a way he loves you- it's not just mind-blowing sex like right now, where he makes your head empty out to replace all your thoughts with nothing but softness and the thought of him, it’s also the things he does for you, the way he cares about you. He’s much more than just your partner, someone you love, and he himself doesn’t even consider himself just your boyfriend.

He’s your soulmate. One and only. And he’ll make that very clear in the next few days to come.

But what has to come first is you- as he leans back to move his hand between your bodies, thumb pressing and circling over your clit to have you call out his name high pitched as your back arches, hands gripping the sheets as he continues to thrust into you for a good moment, before he pulls himself out with much struggle, own hand not having much issue to have him shoot his release onto your body-

Aimed well, just like you said he should, as the thick white ropes of his cum find their way onto your chest, groan escaping him as he makes sure to draw his orgasm out just as much as you clearly do yours, own hands between your legs chasing after any remnants of pleasure before you’re both left to catch your breaths.

It’s quiet for a moment, except some sounds outside, when your eyes suddenly open, face turning towards the opened balcony door.

“Wait, that was open the entire time?!” You ask dramatically- but all Jungkook really has for a reaction is the way he leans down to kiss your cheek.

“Yep.” He chirps, all soft in the head from the high he’s still coming down from. “And I sure hope they heard the way you yelled my name just now.”

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #bts smut #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #bts jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook fanfic #bts jeon jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook imagines #jungkook imagines

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jflemings · 2 months

Text

— birthday wishes

pairing: jessie fleming x reader

synopsis: you make sure jessie has a good day for her first birthday in portland

warnings: a lil suggestive & not edited

a/n: a lil smth smth for the birthday girl (i don’t rlly like this ending but fuck it we ball)

contrary to popular belief, jessie actually really liked celebrating her birthday. she liked that her mum always baked her a cake when she was growing up, she liked that you made the effort to always give her flowers and she liked it when her and her sister designated a time to facetime. the thing that she liked most of all though, was being able to have all her favourite people in one place,

this year was different though. jessie’s mood had seemed to get deplete the closer her birthday got. she had been adjusting to the move well enough but she didn’t exactly have the time to get really settled before she was off win team canada for the gold cup, the semi final loss leaving her more restless then when she left.

still, you made the effort to at least attempt to make this birthday feel somewhat normal. you bought her a bouquet of pink tulips and baby’s breath from a florist you spotted one afternoon on your way home from work, a lego flower bouquet set that the two of you wanted to build together and a proper, high quality photo album so that all of her favourite photos she’s taken can be in one place.

you sneak back into your shared bedroom with her flowers in one hand and coffee in the other, placing them down on a flipped cardboard box that your girlfriend had been using as a makeshift bedside table, before pouncing on her. you practically jump onto her back and lay yourself down flat on top of her, placing your head on her shoulder as she awoke.

jessie, in all her sleepy-faced-bedheaded glory, flashes you a smile as you trace patterns on her back through her sleep shirt.

“good morning birthday girl” you whisper quietly to her “how does twenty six feel?”

“not any different than twenty five” she rasps out whilst beginning to roll over onto her back. you slide off her effortlessly before she pulls you into her, one arm wrapping around your shoulders whilst the other hoists you onto her chest. she wraps both arms around you protectively and tightly, leaning her head on your own as she lets out a content sigh.

you reach over her as best you can and grab the bouquet “your birthday flowers madam”

jessie gives you one of her famous soft smiles “thank you, they’re beautiful” she praises gratefully, sniffing them before taking them from you and placing them on the ground, grabbing your torso so she can guide you up the front of her body, kissing you sweetly and slowly.

you pull away from her and lift your arms so that they’re on either side of her head “only the best for my girl” you say before taking advantage of the position your arms are in and pulling yourself up so you’re straddling jessie’s hips.

“as much as i would love to lay around with you all morning, you” you emphasise by poking a finger into the canadian’s chest “have training and then lunch with the girls, and i have work that needs to be done.”

jessie rolls her eyes and trails her hands up your sides “just five more minutes” she exhales “i don’t feel like getting up yet”

you swing your leg over jessie and roll onto your side of the mattress, sitting and then standing in one swift motion. you then walk to the end of the bed frame-less mattress and grip the bottom of the duvet that jessie is comfortably under “if i let you lay here for five more minutes then i’m going to feel the need to lay down with you, which will then turn into morning sex, which means that when janine comes to get you in about an hour not only will she be interrupting us but she’ll also be late because you won’t be ready” you explain pointedly, finally ripping the blanket off your girlfriend.

jessie shivers slightly at the sudden loss of warmth before sitting herself up on her elbows and forearms “i’ll be quick, promise” she smirks amused, raising her eyebrows in an almost challenging way.

you’re almost half convinced, her position on the bed paired with the confident smirk she doesn’t wear often slowly drawing you in. you tilt your head in faux thought, slowly leaning down and propping your knee up near her feet, planting your hands flat on either side of her legs. you hover for a moment and open your mouth to say something before a blaring alarm sounds off through the room.

jessie rolls her eyes and picks her phone up, quickly turning the alarm off and tossing it to the side. by the time she’s done that you’re up and halfway out the door.

“y/n” she draws out frustratedly “five minutes!”

“your coffee is going cold jess”

——

jess huffs as janine pulls up to the curb in front of the home she shares with you. lunch had gone longer than expected and although she appreciated the fact that the team celebrated her birthday with her, she had begun to miss her ex teammates even more.

“you tired jeffery?” janine muses “wouldn’t wanna be, y/n’s probably gonna keep you up all hours of the night”

“ooookay!” jessie hastily says as she reaches for the door handle “thanks for organising lunch, i had a really good time”

janine nods and smiles before reaching behind her seat and handing jessie a cobalt blue gift bag “this is from me and sinc” she says just as jessie opens her mouth to protest “and don’t say that we didn’t have to because we know! we just wanted to give you a little something”

jessie takes the bag off her teammate carefully, opening the door at the same time and awkwardly sliding out. she gathers her training bag, phone and gift bag before shooting janine a wide, genuine smile and shutting the car door. as the midfielder walks to her front door she notices the warm light peaking through the windows.

it’s not dark outside but the sun has started to set, so she finds it odd that you’ve already turned on the lamp in the front room. she thinks nothing of it as she opens the door and steps in sideways before kicking it shut, slightly cringing at the loud slam. when you don’t scold her for slamming the front door, like you had always done, she becomes puzzled.

magenta light that she hadn’t seen from outside bounces off the walls and the smell of sandalwood slowly invaded her senses as she begins to creep into the main living area. you’re still no where to be found and she’s about to call out for you when she stops herself, her jaw going slack and eyes going wide.

next to the window on the furthest wall hangs her canada and chelsea jerseys that she received for reaching one hundred games, underneath multiple framed photos and trinkets sit on top of the buffet, a birthday banner and balloon numbers two and six find themselves near by. the magenta light is coming from a lamp that you had at your place back in london and next to it sits jessie’s burning sandalwood candle, other bits of decor like potted plants, a ceramic mug with miscellaneous pens and pencils, unread books and small collectables have all found homes in her home. her home that wasn’t like this when she reluctantly got up this morning.

she hears the bathroom door open and watches you round the corner, a towel messily drying your hair as you hum to yourself. you haven’t seen her so she places her things down next to the kitchen table, slightly startling you.

you just about jump out of your skin when you hear the unknown noise, dropping the towel and placing a hand over your racing heart “jessie fleming! you scared the absolute shit out of me” you exclaim half out of breath “you could’ve announced yourself when you walked in”

you pull a ladybug patterned gift bag out from under the dining table as you walk past and place it in front of her, nodding in the direction of the bag “open it” you say giddily, practically bouncing on your toes as you watch her reach into the bag.

she pulls out a plain white faux leather photo album that’s bound by brown leather strings and the lego flower bouquet set that the two of you had said you’d wanted to build together once you got settled. she opens the photo album to reveal a photo that was taken of her, niamh and zećira on her birthday last year.

the three of them were dressed nicely and standing in your old kitchen before everyone went out for dinner. you had taken the picture on a cheap disposable you’d had for ages so the film was a bit discoloured and jess and niamh were both laughing at zećira’s expense after she’d almost tripped over her own two feet, but it was one of you favourite photos of the three of them.

jessie looks to you with tears in her eyes, and she watches your mouth quickly turns into a frown. you reach for her without a second thought, already thinking the worst “are you okay? did something happen?” you ask concerned, pulling her into you and wrapping your arms securely around her body.

“no i’m good” she mumbled weakly, sniffling slightly “you did all this today?”

you nod “did the bathroom as well, thought it might de stress you a little bit” you explain softly “why are you crying jess?”

jessie shakes her head and detaches herself from you “i’m just so tired” the canadian mumbles “and i just love you so much.”

you run your hands up and down her biceps “too tired for cake?” you ask cheekily before moving to the fridge. jessie watches you pull out a white frosted cake with small red hearts littering the surface, placing it down and allowing her to see 26th piped on with black icing. you reach into a drawer and pull out a brand new pack of colourful birthday candles, quickly sticking the red one in and lighting it.

“make a wish birthday girl” you say whilst pushing the cake almost directly under jessie’s nose.

she quirks a brow “what? no birthday song?”

you shrug “i figured janine would’ve had the whole team singing it at lunch, thought you’d be content with hearing it once”

the footballer nods in agreement and closes her eyes, blowing the candle out in one go and waving her hand to disperse the smoke. you tilt your head curiously, leaning your forearms on the dark wood of the dining table “you didn’t even make a wish!” you exclaim.

jessie rolls her eyes and sits down, patting her lap so that you can sit on her “i did make a wish, thank you very much.” she defends as you oblige happily and throw your arms around her neck. once situated you swipe your pointer finger through the frosting and holding it up to her mouth. she licks the icing off your finger and snakes her hand up your back to hold your neck, pulling you down to her level so she can kiss you.

the kiss is sweet but hard as she holds you delicately whilst swiping her tongue on your bottom lip. you smile and open your mouth, adjusting yourself on her lap so that your body is facing more towards her.

it feels like the two of you sit there making out for almost an eternity before jess pulls away to come up for air, her lips pink and slightly swollen “wanna know what i wished for?”

your lips ghost over hers “if you tell me then it won’t come true”

the hand that was holding your neck slides down to cradle the small of your back whilst jessie’s other hand runs over your thighs aimlessly. she shrugs and the same smug smirk that she wore this morning returns to her face “i’ll just show you then”

in the blink of an eye she’s hoisting you up and standing quickly before racing off in the direction of your bedroom. you giggle loudly at jessie’s sudden burst of energy and quickly become grateful that the two of you don’t have a bed frame when she pins you to the mattress.

#pegs woso #jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming imagine #jessie fleming fic #jessie fleming blurb #woso imagine #woso blurb #woso fic #woso x reader

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ghoularaki · 2 months

Text

baby's breath | 1

↠ summary: Merely by coincidence, Erwin, your father's former friend had crossed paths with you again after nearly a decade. He offered solace once finding out you were struggling with not just school, but your home life as well. His home he shared with another one of your father's friends, Levi, became a sanctuary. Though, the more you came over for study sessions, the more they wiggled themselves into your private life. And like baby's breath, they weeded themselves in so deep you couldn't uproot them.

↠ word count: 4,719

↠ pairing: levi ackerman x reader x erwin smith

↠ genre/warnings: angst, smut, modern au, DARK CONTENT, yandere, noncon/dubcon, daddy kink, forced infantilism, pet play, age gap, death threats, human trafficking, bdsm

Proudly you could say, you were doing well by yourself. Life hasn't been the kindest to you. By the age of eighteen you had been kicked out of your home over ten times. To say the relationship between your family was rocky would be an understatement. For a couple years now, you hopped from place to place.

In the current climate, you were having trouble finding an apartment to live in so you either slept in your car or spent your day in the university library. Residing in the dorms simply wasn’t an option as your scholarship wouldn’t cover the nearly ten-thousands of dollars it would be. And you weren’t about to send yourself in further into debt.

You supposed this was expected of going to such a prestigious college town, but your options were limited. Wracking a hand down your face, you were barely paying attention when a voice called your name.

“Y/n! Is that you?” The voice called from the left of you.

Looking up from where you were about to open the door to a coffee shop you frequented, just to spot a face you hadn’t seen since you were a preteen.

“Mr. Smith?”

With his stature he made quick work to close the distance to you. The man had barely changed even after the decade you last saw him.

He laughed and waved his hand flippantly, “Please, call me Erwin.”

Slightly uncomfortable, you said, “How are you, Erwin?” You never really did the best with small talk.

The egregious man easily put a hand over your head to fully open the door. “Come, let’s catch up over coffee.”

Already too late to refuse, you walked closely behind and followed his lead. Erwin picked a spot near the window with two wooden chairs. The coffee shop was quaint with a scheme of different clashing furniture. On lucky days you could snag the cushioned recliner. Painted on the circle table in front of you two was a faded sunflower and tiny, white flowers. As he sat down, the rickety chair groaned from his mass.

Settling in your seat, Erwin was already looking at you, a whimsical expression on his face. “What do you want, I’ll order for you.”

“You don’t have to do that,” You bent down to grab your bag, but he raised a hand to stop you.

“I insist.”

Leaving you no room to resist, you replied, “I will just have a hot chocolate.”

A chuckle left him at what you assumed was because of the childish request. You weren’t privy to coffee and the tea here wasn’t the best. He got up to order your drinks and you fiddled with your phone while waiting for him.

Tapping your phone against your forehead, you questioned how you got yourself in this situation. There was nothing wrong with Erwin, it’s merely because he was friends with your father. You didn’t want to judge him based on your strained relationship, but you barely remembered Erwin beside brief glimaces. He was a suave man who knew how to command a room. Obviously, with how he got you to join him for coffee without even lifting a finger. It might have more to say about you than him.

“Here’s your drink,” Shooting up from your slouched position, Erwin approached with both cups. His was a ceramic mug with swirling black and white designs. It suited him. Yours was a dainty, pink and ivory china tea cup. Even as the years passed, he saw you as a little girl.

Going back to his seat, he took a sip of his coffee. “I must say, you have grown. A lot. I almost didn’t recognize you. You really have grown into a beautiful woman.”

Coughing, your face heated up enough to cook an egg on it. “I- uh thanks. You don’t look any different.”

He really didn’t, despite him being in his forties, he surely didn’t look it. Crow’s feet crinkled at his eyes and fine lines imprinted on his forehead and near the corners of his lips, but besides that he didn’t age a bit from your childhood.

Erwin’s bushy eyebrow quirked up in amusement, “I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

Realizing how insulting that can come off, you laughed and explained yourself. “Yes, it was supposed to be a compliment.”

Taking it in stride, he gestured for you to drink your hot chocolate. You blew on it and sipped on the chocolatey beverage, humming, content with the flavor.

“So what have you been up to? Last time I spoke to your father he said you had left home.”

You rolled your eyes with scoff, “We both know that’s a lie.”

“I’m taking it, he kicked you out again?”

Even with the decade of not seeing him, he knew your family never really favored you. You weren’t a problem child per se, you just had no qualms of standing up for yourself compared to your jelly-spined siblings.

“When doesn’t he,” You joked and you were met with a chortle, but his face showed concern.

“Are you holding up?”

You hated how the tone shifted to something serious. Playing it off, you smiled, “Besides with my History homework, I think I’m doing just fine.”

Erwin reached over the table and placed his hand over yours. His palm easily engulfed your hand. Warmth spread from his skin to yours. “If you need help, please don’t be a stranger. And for the homework, why don’t you come over tomorrow and I can help. I am a professor, you know?”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude,” You grimaced, unsure of whether or not to accept his help. On one hand, you hadn’t seen him in years. On the other, you really did need assistance. If you failed this class, you’ll lose your scholarship and you couldn't afford that.

He reached behind himself and pulled his phone from his back pocket. Unlocking it swiftly with his thumb, he pulled out a new contact and nodded his head towards the phone. “Put in your phone number and I will give you my address. Unless you need a ride?”

You shook your head, “No, no. I can get there myself. Thank you so much.”

Plugging your phone number in, you handed the contraption back to him. His thumb flew across the screen and your own phone buzzed against the table. On your lock screen you spied he already gave you an address and to meet him at one PM.

“Does that work for you?”

Smiling up at him, you quipped, “Certainly. See you then.”

Glancing back at his phone, he sighed, “I must go or else I will be late for my next class. If anything comes up, don’t be afraid to message me. Goodbye, Y/n.”

With that, he got up from his seat and briskly walked out of the coffee shop. Through the glass, he had a certain twang to his walk as he approached his fancy, black car. Almost like he was giddy. Once he was out of view, you slammed your head against the table and groaned. Screw you and your inability to say no. At least you were getting a free tutor out of this.

“Rich fucking bastard,” You muttered under your breath as you pulled up to his home.

His house was old styled with light colored bricks and black framing. The abode strayed from civilization. His neighbors were across the acres of woods surrounding the area. Between the foliage, their lights peeked through, but still distant.

The driveway was paved and you thanked his income as you had no clue if your car could handle a dirt road. The old model had been with you for years, but it was reaching its end. Parked by his own car and you observed how there was another car by his. The model was a matching hue, but was a medium sized truck instead. You tilted your head in perplexity as to why a professor would need such a vehicle. Especially as you spotted various tools in the bed.

Wisping away the dwindling thoughts, you tugged your ratty backpack from your passenger seat. As you stepped out, you felt so drab compared to the scenery. Slinging the backpack higher over your shoulder, you walked up and rapped on the door. You debated whether or not to text Erwin you were, but the thought of him escorting you from your car to his porch was humiliating. You were a big girl, you could go up to a door and knock.

The man who opened the door certainly was not Erwin. He was definitely shorter than him, but the way he crossed his arms, you could tell with how the muscle rippled under the fabric, not to underestimate him. The man’s hair was inky strands parted to the side that fell under his eyes. Silver clashed with your own irises, sharp and analytical. He picked you apart as much as you did him.

“You must be the brat.” If his words weren’t so belittling you would say his voice was soothing. A deep, dark timbre pleasant to your ears. Likened to how the ocean culls.

Your face twitched and decided to ignore his taunt, “Where’s Erwin?”

The man’s eyes flashed with something you couldn’t decipher as he opened the door further. Taking that as you cue, you walked further into the home. The interior was just as grandeur as the outside. Muted colors were splattered across the living. Rich people loved their minimalism and you weren’t surprised the home barely had anything of importance in it. There were picture frames of Erwin with other people you didn’t recognize besides the man who directed from the mud room.

“Take off your shoes,” He instructed, not answering your question.

Toeing off your sneakers, socked feet welcomed the cool carpet. As you opened your mouth to repeat yourself, Erwin perked up from his recliner in the living room. Thumbing the off button of his phone, he placed it on the cushions and went to greet you.

“I see you met Levi.”

“You could say that.”

The man you now know named Levi walked off with a grunt into the kitchen. What a charmer. Erwin beckoned you over with his hand like you would a dog. Patting the empty spot on the couch, you walk over and take a seat. Slacking your shoulder, your bag tumbled to your side.

“Is there anything you would like to drink?” Erwin offered.

“Just water is fine.”

As the older man went to fetch the beverage, Levi called from the kitchen, “I also have some tea brewing?”

You perked up at that. Levi didn’t give you the impression of someone who liked tea, but the more you think about it, it suited him. He did give off grumpy, old man vibes.

“What kind?”

Instead of answering, he came out of the kitchen with a tray of two tea cups and a fancy kettle. The metal and china clinked together as he placed it down. A sweet, mild aroma filled the air as he poured both cups half way. You spied the odd way he held the cup around the brim.

Levi sat on the recliner adjacent to the couch Erwin was once in. Reaching over for your own drink, you sipped it and let out a happy hum at the taste. His eyes flickered with something you couldn’t really decipher. Though, you assumed delight as he adjusted himself closer to the edge of his seat.

“This is really good! Is this green tea?”

“No, white.”

Erwin and Levi glanced at each other. You ignored it. The cushion dipped when Erwin sat at a respectful distance from you. You were caged between the two older men. Yet, you weren’t uncomfortable in the least. “So what are you having trouble with?”

In the time you had reconnected with Erwin, he had helped you get back on your feet. After what seemed to be the eleventh time coming over his house, you let it slip, you were living out of your car. The shock befallen on the man’s face surprised you. He seemed almost offended you went so long without telling him of your living situation. It wasn’t like you were keeping it a secret from him. The topic simply never came up in conversation.

Immediately after hearing the news, Erwin brought you into his home office and helped you search for apartments. You refused and explained you couldn’t get one not out of choice, but because you didn’t make enough money or have a credit score.

“I can help pay for it if that’s the issue,” He said casually.

“That’s asking for way too much.”

Twisting himself to face you in his rolling chair right next to yours, he continued, “If it was too much, I wouldn’t be offering it.”

“Yes, and I’m saying it’s too much,” You emphasized the ‘I’m’ to express how uncomfortable it made you feel.

For the first time in your life, you watched Erwin’s face steel in annoyance. His nostrils heaved out a slight flare and his thick eyebrow ticked. “You’re incredibly stubborn, you know that?”

Smiling, you offered a quick, “Yep!”

“Since you refuse to let me pay for the apartment, at least let me find you a better job so then that issue is tackled,” He opened a new tab and put in his own bank, “Right now, let’s sign you up for credit card.”

Unable to refuse the more palpable help, you followed along as he lectured about credit scores. In a couple months, you were able to become an almost fully functional adult, no longer needing to sleep in your car or shower in the school’s gym. Your apartment was quaint and small, and only a ten minute walk from the campus.

Even though Erwin got you back up on your feet, you still frequently came to him and Levi’s home for school help. And for a more embarrassing reason, those two were your only source of companionship. Having two grown men, one two decades older and the other almost two decades older, be your friends must seem pathetic. Yet, you couldn’t complain when you noticed your favorite food always stocked in the pantry or how Levi let you drink his precious tea.

Both men had a key to your apartment in case of emergency and also gave you your own copy of a house key for the same reason. In a very long time, you felt safe, warm and protected.

Despite having a key, you still knocked on the front door. Rocking from heel to toe, you were greeted with Levi instead of Erwin. Very similar to the first time you visited.

“Erwin is going to be late. Shitty department heads had to hold a meeting,” Levi’s gruff voice explained.

“That’s fine, just more time for me to bother you.”

The older man clicked his tongue.

Levi was a tough person to pinpoint. He was grumpy, stoic, cussed like a sailor, but oddly gentle and patient. He could easily read the room and fill in what was left gaping. As much as he put up a cold front, he showed his affections in tiny gestures. He would act annoyed at you or Erwin’s playful behavior, but he never did push either of you away.

“I’m going to make tea. Don’t make a mess.”

You rolled your eyes, “I’m not a child. I’m not going to start throwing shit.”

He swung his head around the corner and glowered at you, “Knock off your shitty attitude.”

“Knock off treating me like a baby. Both you and Erwin do it.”

“Because you are a baby,” He went back to the tea and you followed him into the kitchen.

You hopped on the counter next to the stove and started swinging your legs. Levi glanced at you, before going back to the kettle.

“How am I a baby? I’m literally in my twenties.”

With a gentle hand, he gripped your calf. You stopped in shock. Not once had he ever touched you. His palm engulfed your shin and a shiver went up your spine at the warmth. You attempted to move your leg, but it didn’t budge. Levi clutched onto the appendage further.

“I don’t remember seeing an adult swing their legs like a kid on a swing.”

You opened your mouth to counter, but shut it once again with a ‘hmph!’ He did have a point.

He removed himself from you as quickly as he clung on. The shape of his hand lingered.

“I-I’m going to go to the bathroom.”

Leaping off the counter, you didn’t let Levi answer as you barrelled towards the hall. It was hard to describe the sensation settling in your chest. Sure, the touch was innocent enough, but how he easily held you down with a firm hand was discombobulating.

As you skittered deeper into the home, you noticed a door slightly ajar. During your stay here, you never really did stray from any other places besides the living room, the bathroom and Erwin’s office. Everything else was a mystery in the large home.

Curiosity getting the better of you, you slowly approached the door. One foot in front of the other, your hand stayed outstretched. Just as your hand cradled the knob, the door slammed closed. You screeched and jumped.

A looming presence encompassed your hunched frame. Turning your head, there stood Erwin with an overly pleasant smile on his face. His arm was outstretched where he closed the door with a large, forceful palm.

“Let’s not overstay our welcome, shall we?”

You gulped, goosebumps shot all over your skin. The air was sub zero as you trembled. Something shifted out of place and it wasn’t the doorframe.

Since the day you almost found out what was in the other room, the men appeared to be on edge. You tested it while both men were preoccupied and said room was now locked. Whatever was in there, they did not want you finding out. This only furthered your curiosity.

As the days bled more into each other, Erwin became overbearing. Since exam season had arrived once more, you were too busy to visit the luxurious home. What was a couple visits a week, turned into maybe once a week, if that. When you did come over Erwin would hound you about living with him since you said both working and going to school was wearing you down. Of course, you refused. You finally obtained stability and freedom, why would you give that away?

You held your head in your hands, sitting in the chair Erwin bought you for his office. Stress was getting to the both of you.

“Erwin, for the last time, I am not going to move in here,” You glanced up from your slouched position.

He grew so much taller from this angle. Like a god sitting on top of his cloud.

“I don’t understand why it’s such a big deal for me to provide for you. I have more than enough money to go around, it won’t hinder me in any way.”

You sighed, “Yes, I get that. We both get that. But you aren’t seeing my side at all!”

He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, “Please enlighten me.”

You wanted to pull your hair out. This wasn’t something you haven’t told him before. “You are treating me like I am a defenseless child that needs to be coddled. I am thankful for the help since without you I would probably still be living in my car, but that’s not the point. I am stable and I don’t need you to hold my hand anymore.”

“So you admit it; you wouldn’t be a functional adult without me.”

Ire built in your throat and you spat it out, “I would have never accepted it if you were just going to throw it back in my fucking face.”

“Language.”

Your mouth dropped in a disbelieving smile. You launched yourself backward from the chair to assert yourself taller than him. It did very little.

Pointing your finger in his face, his complexion stayed unamused, “Right there. Stop belittling me. We are two adults having a conversation, treat me as so.”

He emerged from his seat and took back his place as the one with a height advantage. You were easily knocked down a couple pegs.

“An adult wouldn’t shove fingers in people’s faces,” His tone stern, tittering towards anger.

“Can you blame me! I get it, you are old enough to be my dad, but I don’t appreciate you acting like you are.”

“I am hardly acting like your father.”

“You’re twisting my words!”

His nostrils flared, “Watch your tone.”

“Fuck off.” The choice words weren’t probably the smartest, but you were at your limit as he was.

All you saw were icy blue eyes darken before your face swung to the side and your collapsed into the office desk. Your cheek caught on his paper weight. You fell into the wood with an audible clunk and bang. Clutching on your injured cheek, you glared up at Erwin.

“Nope,” Was all you said.

Detaching yourself from the wood, you cradled your face as you stumbled out of the office into the hallway.

“Y/n, wait!” Erwin called from behind, but you only shuffled faster.

Blood stabbed your tongue. You licked your bottom lip. The force had cut the skin as well.

“At least let me clean the wound,” He begged.

Now in the living room, Levi poked his head out from where he was sitting on the couch. His eyes caught the tears bubbling over and how you cradled your face.

“The wound?” Levi’s focus was now on a stressed Erwin trying to hover over you. “What the fuck happened?”

Erwin tried to answer, but you beat him to it, “He hit me and I’m leaving.”

At that, he shot up from the couch and rounded the side, “Whoa, whoa, slow down. What did you do?”

“I-I don’t know,” Erwin was in a daze.

Levi walked over to you and tried to pry your hand from your swelling cheek, but you shook your head away from his grasp.

“I’m leaving,” You repeated and shoved past him.

Before he could even get a word out, you slammed the door closed and ran to your car. Shakely grasping your keys, you unlocked your door and slumped into the seat. You slammed your hands against the wheel and screeched. Tears streamed down, irritating the wound.

Roughly wiping away the salty water, you buckled yourself up and put the car into drive. As you rounded the driveway, you swore to yourself to be smarter next time. Depending on others was a debt you couldn’t afford.

You wanted to claw your skin off, screech, throw shit—anything to release the pent up wrath inside your gut. It had been weeks since you promised yourself you would never come back to Erwin and Levi’s household, and yet, here you were. During the time you eradicated yourself from their lives, Erwin had blown up your phone with varying types of messages. They stemmed from pleading to him demanding you answer him. Levi only offered one message the whole time.

“Make sure to keep the wound clean.”

The gesture was sweet, but in the moment, it felt infantilizing. You knew how to take care of a tiny cut. After the fiftieth call, you blocked Erwin’s number.

Radio silence met you for a couple days until you realized you couldn’t access your bank account. Then you got a call that you were fired from work. Next was the message you got from your landlord that you have an eviction notice despite paying rent on time. The last straw was when you tried to call your landlord back only to be told your phone had been shut off.

“Idiot. You’re a fucking idiot,” You muttered to yourself. You had trusted Erwin way too much with your finances and now you were stranded. You barely even had enough gas in your tank to get you out of exact proximity to their house if shit went down.

Slamming the door closed, you marched your way over to the entrance and banged on it as hard as you could. As if expecting you, Levi opened the door. His face was a lot more haggard than the last time you saw him. His under eyes were darker, the purplish hue sunk deep into the skin.

“Where the fuck is he?”

Levi merely sighed and sidestepped to let you go on your rampage. There, sitting in the living room, Erwin had his ankle resting on his knee. Carefree as ever.

“Care to tell me why the fuck I can’t get access to my bank account or my landlord won’t let me into my own goddamn apartment!” Your voice bellowed and sunk into the walls.

Erwin’s expression of cold steel did not waver in your anger. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“I’m not here to play fucking games, Asshat,” You sneered. Whatever patience and timidness you had when first meeting him dissipated. You wanted your life back.

“Watch it,” Erwin ordered. He arose from his seat, taking the high ground once more. From behind you, Levi made himself comfortable against the wall with arms crossed.

“Now is not the time! I don’t know what you’re trying to do but I need money and my apartment to live, Erwin.”

“I can take care of you.” Like a broken record, he refused to see reason.

You clutched your head in frustration. Nails dug into your scalp as you fight off the tears threatening to keel over. “Listen to me,” You begged.

“I have been listening and I don’t see why you would rather suffer than let me give you a life of comfort.”

You closed your eyes and moved your hands to dig your heels into the sockets. Letting out a shaking exhale, you said, “I am not going to throw my life away to be forced into a home where I am nothing better than a dog. A comfortable dog, but one nonetheless.”

“It wouldn’t be forever, just until you’re done with school,” Erwin tried to negotiate but you saw through it.

“And then it will be until I’m done with grad school, then pushed further until I find a job that suits my degree, and then it's until the income is high enough for your standards. You will never be satisfied.”

Erwin’s jaw ticked. There’s nothing to be said as you laid out in front of him exactly what he planned to do. He only wanted to give you the world and you wanted nothing of it.

“See! You can’t even deny it,” You laughed out loud, in hysterics.

“You’re acting like I’m shackling you to the basement. All I’m asking is that you live here with me—us—so you can finish your schooling worry free.”

“A decorated cage is still a cage.”

“Listen here,” He began as he approached with thunderous steps.

You stumbled backwards before solidifying your footing. You weren’t going to allow him to intimidate you.

“No, you listen here. I am done with you. If I have to, I will live in my car again. I am leaving.”

As Erwin comprehended your threat wasn’t empty, he glanced at Levi who stayed silent the whole time. Similar to a panther on the prowl, waiting. He kicked off the wall and sauntered over to your form.

Attempting to spin around to run out the house, Levi slung an arm across your neck and dug his forearm into your throat. He squeezed as you scrambled to slide your fingers in between your neck and the muscle. Your fingernails were no match for his ropey tendons.

Obviously you struggled, but it's nothing against the burly man. Even with his stature, he was stronger than Erwin. With his free hand he tugged a syringe from his pocket. He bit off the cap with his teeth and spat it out off into the room. The sharp prick hit the fragile skin of your flesh. Something was depleted into your veins. Your lips tingled as the oxygen left your lungs and the room spun round and round. Nausea crept in as your eyes crossed.

“See you soon, Pet.”

#yandere x reader #levi x reader #yandere levi #yandere erwin smith #yandere levi x reader #yandere erwin x reader #yandere aot #yandere #aot smut #erwin x reader

153 notes · View notes

amourlyns · 2 months

Text

❛ HEY VENGEANCE. ❜ ➜ ⁽ masterlist ⁾

✧ 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕: you and ellie end up stuck in a snow storm. you take those few days to analyze and tear her apart.

✧ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: mentions of character death, depression.

✧ 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔: listen to fiona apple & king princess’ 〞 i’ll know 〞 for immersion . this is one year after the events of tlou2, i imagine ellie living in solitude after j.j and dina left. ellie still lives in the house because she can’t find it in herself to leave. this is part one of three.

⟡ ⠀ | What was supposed to be a quick stop at a cabin became an absolute nightmare, one day turned into six days holed up in a cabin. Your schedule with Ellie was completely out of wack now. And being left alone with her was nerving.

You were never close to Ellie, in fact she was like a stranger to you. A ghost, even. There was really nothing that connected you two together, she was just Ellie.. and you were you. Simple as that.

The only thing you did know about her, was how close she was to Jackson at some point in time. But now? Not so much, Tommy was surprised that she even took this up. Ellie spent most of her days in isolation, apparently some unnamed event made her like this.

You didn’t really want to know what.

Not now, not here. In fact, not ever. Because what it was left her scarred, physically and mentally. You could see the jagged design of flesh mending itself, still pink and fresh, as opposed to freckled, tanned skin.

There was an unshakable grief in her eyes, accompanied by mile long stares and unexpected pauses. Eventually, the night terrors would come, then cold sweats followed with an erratic heart rate.

She thought she was discreet about it, and she was for the most part. But being pent up alone didn’t really allow her the privacy she deserved of course. The privacy and solitude she craved. Instead, the days slowly reveal the layers of Ellie Willams.

On the first day, you realized Ellie had a habit of tapping her fingers on any near by surface. It sounded like a distance tune she once knew. It felt slow and somber. Sometimes her fingers would ache and come to a stop, you never knew if it was the muscles cramping due to strain or, if the memory was too painful to bare.

(So she was better off letting it die and fade).

You couldn’t exactly pinpoint when you realized this, but it was either on a Sunday or Friday morning. The snowfall was particularly severe on this day, settling on the fauna below. Trees are iced over and the worlds is covered in frost.

The perfect weather for a hot beverage.

There’s still some items held up in the cabinets, a teapot and a few scattered pans. You’re not too keen on the thought of making Ellie a cup, who knows if she even likes tea—

But you could try ?

This was your first attempt of getting closer to her. And it certainly wouldn’t be your last.

224 notes · View notes

pulisicsgirl · 9 months

Text

breathe, you're okay - mason mount

summary: when the mounting pressure of a Women's UCL run is falling on Y/N's shoulders, she isn't handling it by herself as well as she would like everyone to believe she is

pairing: Mason Mount x footballer!reader

word count: 2.9k

warnings/tags: hurt/comfort, no established relationship, !!descriptions of a panic attack!!, discussions about mental heath, supportive Mase

requested: no

notes: surprise!! I'm sorry I haven't posted in months-- my life kind of went up in flames over the summer and I haven't had the time to write that I was hoping to. I have a few WIPs in my drafts, and I am still working on all of your requests! Please let me know what you think of this!

The hot afternoon sun beat down on you, and you felt the drops of sweat sliding down the side of your head and tickling the hairs on the back of your neck. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears as you ran up and down the field, weaving between cones, carrying the ball at your feet, running through a series of consecutive drills that were designed to refine your skills and test your endurance.

You did your best to recall the instructions that your coach had carefully laid out before the team began the drill, but with the heat and the fatigue that was seeping all the way into your bones, it seemed impossible to remember. You wound up relying on the teammate in front of you to recall what you needed to do next.

You let out a heavy sigh of relief when you heard the sound of the whistle—two short chirps, signaling for you to halt your movements. You draped your arms over your head, drawing in deep, heaving breaths as you attempted to get your heart rate under control.

You joined the rest of your teammates as they gathered around the coach, preparing for his parting words before everyone was dismissed.

“Good session today, ladies,” he clapped his hands in front of him, looking around the circle. “I’m seeing a lot of good things. A lot of improvement in our touches and finishing. You all are looking really good.”

A couple of the girls clapped at his words, the rest too exhausted to do anything but listen.

“We have the day off tomorrow, so use it well. Rest, recover, and come back Monday ready to go. We’ve got some heavy prep next week before the second leg on Friday,” he continued, and a couple others whooped, getting excited for the upcoming big game.

“They’re gonna be a really tough opponent, I’ll be honest. We know that their back line is really strong, tough to break through.” Your coach’s eyes fell on you, and you knew what was coming next before he even began to speak, your stomach sinking slightly. “But that’s what we have Miss Y/N, for, right?”

Several of the girls cheered for you. The girls near you slapped you on the back, trying to get you hyped up. And the weight that had settled in the pit of your stomach grew heavier.

The Manchester United women were on an impressive UEFA Women’s Champions League run, overcoming seemingly insurmountable odds to make it to the semifinal. And according to the media (and now your own teammates and coaches), it was all thanks to you.

In the group stage, a decisive game in which your team had gone down 2-0 in the first half had seemed hopeless until you had scored two goals in the second, assisting on the third to put your team through to the knockout games. Another three goal contributions in the quarter-final matches had put you in the spotlight of all of the team’s media coverage, thrusting a wave of attention upon you that you had never asked for.

You had gone down 1-0 in the first leg of the semi-final, and now you were playing from behind. And it seemed that everyone expected you to be the one to pull them out of it.

So now, you were left feeling the pressure as the second leg was fast approaching.

“Alright, ladies. Have a good rest of the day and a great day off tomorrow.” He clapped his hands, dismissing you all. The circle of girls dispersed, chatting among themselves.

“Am I still leaving the cones out for you?” the coach raising his eyebrows at you. You only nodded in return. “Okay, don’t work yourself to death.”

You laughed humorlessly as you fiddled with the ball at your feet, not meeting his eyes.

“Hey,” he said, resting a hand on your shoulder to try to draw your attention to him. “Get some rest tomorrow, okay? We all see how hard you’re working. Give yourself a break.”

Another nod is all that you can muster, and you don’t miss the short sigh that he lets out as he drops his hand from your shoulder and walks to join the rest of the group moving indoors.

You repositioned a few of the cones to set up your own drill and got right into it.

Across the field, on another training pitch near yours, Mason watched as you carried the ball with you up and down the field, weaving between cones, practicing a few skills that he had seen you implement in games, and taking a shot on the goal at each pass.

He was supposed to be doing a bit of extra work with a few of the boys. The men’s team had finished their training session about an hour before, but a few of them still felt like they wanted to get a bit more done before calling it a day. So here they were, running a few small three-a-side games to utilize the last of their energy that day.

But he couldn’t help but notice how you never stopped.

During the team training, you were always one of the hardest-working ones out there. When he had returned to the pitch from lunch, you were taking shots on the goal with the rest of your team nowhere in sight. He wasn’t even sure he had seen you eating lunch inside when he thought about it.

And now here you were, sprinting across the length of the field, over and over, after the rest of your team had hit the showers.

He felt a twinge of worry for you but brushed it off as one of his teammates called his name to pull his attention back to the game they were playing.

Your head was spinning as you pushed yourself to keep moving. Your entire body was drenched in sweat. Every muscle ached from overexertion as you gritted your teeth, forcing them to keep moving. The sun was dizzyingly bright as the evening set in. You could feel the heat practically radiating off of your skin. Your lungs were burning with your heaving breaths and your mouth quickly grew dry.

“That’s what we have Miss Y/N for, right?” Your coach’s words echoed through your head as you carried the ball down the field.

“Y/L/N carries the Man U Women through to the semifinal!” You recalled the title of the article as you weaved between the cones.

“I really believe Y/N Y/L/N could be the one to lead Manchester United to their first Women’s Champion’s League trophy!” You heard the words of the pundit clear as day as you planted your foot, striking the ball cleanly. It soared through the air, curving toward the goal, and struck the crossbar. The ball flew away from the goal, bouncing pathetically on the ground in the penalty area.

You took a pause, the words and expectations crashing around your mind leaving an unsettling feeling in your chest. As you stood there, you couldn’t seem to get your panting breaths to grow steadier.

Your shirt suddenly felt too tight on your neck. You grasped the fabric, pulling it away from your body in an attempt to allow yourself to breathe easier, but nothing seemed to be helping.

Your head was spinning. You felt your stomach sink, a feeling like when you plummeted down the tall hill of a rollercoaster, a sick feeling settling in your abdomen. Your skin began to crawl, and you just couldn’t stop hyperventilating.

You began to panic. Eyes searching frantically for relief. You weren’t sure what you were looking for—something, anything.

You suddenly felt like you were too out in the open, needing to seclude yourself away from the sight of prying eyes. You set into a sprint, off of the field and around the corner of the nearest part of the building to you, trying to find some shade from the hot sun and hide yourself from anyone who might see your pathetic state.

But it was too late. Mason had seen the whole thing.

They had just paused their game for a short water break. He had seen you take the shot, instead hitting the crossbar. It only took him a few seconds once you paused to realize that something wasn’t right.

He watched the way your chest rose and fell rapidly in quick, short breaths. When you began attempting to pull your shirt away from your body, he instantly knew what was taking place. He’d recognize that feeling anywhere.

You were having a panic attack, whether you realized it or not.

As soon as he saw you take off for the side of the building, he was running after you without so much as a word of explanation to his teammates.

Once in the shade of the wall you hid behind, you began pacing, unable to keep still. Every inch of your body felt jittery, and you felt unsteady on your legs. You couldn’t manage more than rapid, shallow breaths. Your throat felt tight, your breaths sounding more like wheezes, and it was starting to make your head spin. Your hands flew to your head, scratching at your scalp in an attempt to somehow rid yourself of the feeling.

You were startled by Mason swiftly rounding the corner, concern written all over his face as he stopped in front of you.

“Hey, hey, hey, you’re okay,” he spoke calmly and evenly. He quickly reached up, taking your wrists in his hands so he could gently but firmly pull your hands out of your hair to keep you from hurting yourself.

“I can’t, Mason. I can’t,” you panted, shaking your head ‘no’ frantically and still trying to weakly pull your hand from his grip.

“You’re okay, Y/N. Try to slow down your breathing,” Mason’s calm voice directly contrasted your frantic behavior, speaking in short sentences so as to not overwhelm you more. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

A short sob fell from your lips, and you felt the tears spilling over and down your cheeks.

“We’re gonna lose,” you sobbed, and his eyebrows furrowed slightly in confusion. “The semifinal, we’re gonna lose it, and it’s gonna be all my fault.”

In that moment, everything clicked into place for Mason-- the UWCL run, your success in the games leading up to the semi-final leg, the pressure from the fans and the team, the countless extra hours you had been putting in.

A loud noise in the distance, coming from the direction of the parking lot, startled you, snatching your attention and you whipped your head to the side, eyes searching frantically for the source. He released your wrists from his hand, testing the waters as he turned your head back to look at him with a hand on your cheek.

He cradled your face with a hand on either side, keeping your focus on him. His thumbs wiped the tears away that had slipped down your cheeks.

“Hey, look at me. You’re gonna be okay. I’ve got you,” he repeated the affirmations he had already been telling you.

As he stroked his thumbs softly over the skin of your cheek, he felt that your breathing was already growing a bit slower. You had reached up, holding onto his wrists with both of your hands to steady yourself, feeling too unsteady on your feet. His hands were gentle and soft on your skin.

Mason watched your expression, taking long deep breaths for you to emulate. Your eyes were still wide, darting frantically around his face, but you were trying your best to follow his breathing. He continued whispering short reassurances.

“You’re safe.”

“It’s gonna be okay.”

“I’ve got you.”

You were beginning to calm down, but your eyes darted to something behind Mason, pulled away from the calm atmosphere he had tried to create for you.

“Hey, hey, stay with me,” he spoke gently, pressing his forehead to yours so you would only focus on him. You were shocked at how little the intrusion on your personal space bothered you. In fact, to your surprise, the closeness seemed to settle you a little more.

You continued focusing on your breathing, gripping tightly to his wrists as if you thought he’d disappear if you let go. Your eyes were clamped closed, listening to Mason’s soft and slow breathing. You felt your pounding heart being to slow its pace.

The panic you had been feeling subsided, leaving behind a wave of extreme fatigue. You felt completely and utterly drained.

Mason must have noticed the way that your body slumped over, and he guided you to sit down on the grass, leaning back against the brick wall of the building. He sat down next to you, leaving space so he didn’t make you more nervous. But in the haze you felt in your mind, you felt a need to still be close to him, leaning over so you could place your head on his shoulder. A short pang of guilt washed over you as you noticed the crescent-shaped indents you had left on his wrists, your nails digging into the skin as you had held onto him.

The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes, your eyes slipping closed as you continued focusing on breathing slowly. A gentle breeze blew through, cooling your clammy skin and brushing through the blades of grass.

“I used to get them sometimes, too, you know?” Mason broke the silence, speaking softly.

You responded with a quiet, “hmm?” unsure of what he meant.

“Panic attacks,” he explained. “At the end of last season, before I left Chelsea. There was a lot of pressure. Any time I played, everyone had something to say about it. Even when I didn’t play, some would find a reason to be upset. It all just got to be too much.”

A deep sadness filled you while you listened to his words. “How did you get through it?”

“Ben found me having one in my car after training one day.” He was quiet for a moment. “I tried to power through it—like you. Skipping lunch and staying late to train a bit extra on the field or put in an extra session in the gym. But once Ben realized what was going on, he made sure that I was taking care of myself properly and wasn’t dealing with it on my own anymore.”

You sat up so you could look at Mason’s face, and you saw a hint of sadness there. “So I’ll tell you what he told me. There are 10 other people with you on that field at all times. If you fall down, there are 10 pairs of hands ready to help you back to your feet. If you succeed, there are 10 others to celebrate with you. But it’s not all on you.”

Your eyes were misty, welling up with tears at his words. He slipped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into a secure hug as the tears began to stream down your cheeks.

“No matter the outcome of the game next week, you’re an incredible player, Y/N.” He placed a soft kiss to the top of your head. “You’ve already done so much so early in your career. The media and the fans will say what they want—don’t let them get to you. And your coaches may get carried away with their expectations for you, but it’s just because they’re so excited to see you succeed. Just be the player you know how to be, and your achievements will speak for themselves.”

“Thank you, Mason,” you whispered after pondering his words for a moment. No words could express the gratitude you felt for the relief he had brought you just by letting you know that he was there and he understood. But as he squeezed your shoulders lightly in response, you hoped he knew just how thankful you were.

Eventually, Mason helped you to your feet, guiding you back toward the fields. You were still feeling a bit weak and unsteady, so he made sure you remained upright with a gentle hold on your arm as you walked. Deciding it was time for you to call it a day, he insisted on collecting the cones that you had been training with, not allowing you to help him by picking up even one of them.

It took some convincing but you told him you would be fine to drive yourself home—his only condition was that you texted to let him know you made it there safely.

“Alright, then. Rest on your day off tomorrow. Give yourself a break, okay?” he spoke as he put the last of the cones away. “I’ll check in with you on Monday, if that’s okay.” He didn’t want to overstep any boundaries. The two of you had been friendly before today, but you wouldn’t have considered yourselves close friends. He just wanted to be sure that you knew you had people in your corner.

“Yeah, I’d like that a lot,” you nodded, smiling at him. With a final hug, he sent you on your way as he turned to rejoin his (undoubtedly confused) teammates where he had left them.

“Remember: rest!” he shouted back at you as you parted ways, and you couldn’t stop the blushing smile that worked its way onto your face.

tag list: @landoslover @chelseagirl98 @thoseboysinblue @lovelynikol16 @swimmingismywholelife @masonsrem @bracedes @neverinadream @lizzypotter14 @notsoattractivearenti

#mason mount #mason mount x reader #mason mount imagine #mason mount fic #mason mount fluff #mason mount angst #chelsea fc #footballer fic

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brittle-doughie · 4 months

Note

Taking a break from angst-time for some good Ole fashion family drama!

I'd like to request a scenario where a matriarch relative from Y/N's family roping them into an arranged marriage with an upper-class cookie (whoever it is up to you)

Said relative is introduced coming to the kingdom where they try to take y/n cookie to their would-be-fiance, only to notice a plethora of cookies either following, stalking, or budding in on their "familial reunion."

P.s. Hope your having a safe belated new year, brittle-doughie! Your the best

- 🥀 Anon

Forced Connections

Much appreciated, my dude. Arranged marriages pretty much spell disaster for the would-be spouse if you run a kingdom!

Crowned Cupcake Cookie, that was the name of the cookie in the photograph sent to you, the one you were apparently meant to be wedded with for the sake of “keeping the doughline pure”, as Sugar Cane Cookie, your family’s matriarch, would put it.

AN: Many thanks to Runebrave for massively carrying with the design, as you guys may know, I don’t have a single creative bone in my body lol

Your mother, Molasses Cookie, couldn’t be any more embarrassed that her side of the family is meddling with your personal life, wanting you to choose how you want to live it, wanting you to choose who you want to be with…but Sugar Cane Cookie insisted.

She was expected to arrive with Crowned Cupcake Cookie soon, which means having to break the news to your Cookie Kingdom before they did. They deserved to know…

You opened the door to your quarters to see Financier Cookie standing by, she gave a small bow to you.

“Y/N Cookie, I see that you are alright today. It gives me relief knowing that you haven’t gotten hurt.”

And it helps to know that a cookie like her is always keep watch over you, when she makes it to the schedule at least. Quite a number of cookies are always gunning to make your bodyguard spot such as Caramel Arrow or Raspberry Cookie, had to break up a few scuffles on occasion.

But that’s a topic for another day, you’d rather you give her the news of what’s to come..

You tell Financier Cookie to be ready, for your kingdom will have…important guests arriving soon..

“I’ll be sure to be on my best behavior and that will go for the other cookies. May I ask who these guests are?”

It will be your family matriarch, Sugar Cane Cookie…and your soon-to-be fiancé, Crowned Cupcake Cookie-

You see Financier Cookie stop in her tracks, a thousand yard stare straight ahead, as her grip on her sword shakes.

“….What?”

Now now, you know that sounds like a big shocker already, but it’s being forced upon you and you really can’t-

“A forced marriage…as if the circumstances can’t get any worse…”

You asked for her to please settle down, this was beyond your control once it was made known to be an order in your family!

Financier’s grip on her sword tightens up as she takes deep breathes, indicating the hidden rage that was boiling inside her

“Don’t worry about it, self-discipline is something I need to practice for anyway…just don’t expect me to be cordial with this…fiancé of yours if she steps out of line…”

If Financier could get like this, there’s no telling how the others will be…

———————————————————————

Jealousy is hitting Kouign-Amann Cookie when she learns of the news. What kind of cookies were your family to try and set you up with something arranged?! As opposed to..what your heart wants..

She can proudly boast that her skills as a Paladin exceeds what this visitor can do for you, anything crossing your path can just meet her sword! What can this visitor do? Because they probably won’t be able to do as much compared to Kouign!

Not giving up is also another part of being a Paladin! Nothing this newcomer can say or do will deter her at all, even if it ends up in a fight! Because Kouign is more than willing to put this cookie six feet under if they push their luck…

———————————————————————

Almond Cookie is on the case. Not only was this arranged marriage done without an agreement on your end, but you weren’t even on a first name basis with this other cookie? This has gotten him on high alert that required a whole lot of coffee, he’ll need it if he’s to dedicate his time to this problem.

He’ll be right there with you for when your arranged spouse has entered the station. The safety of the Cookie Kingdom’s ruler is of the upmost importance to everyone, including him. Especially him. He felt like being your barrier, the wall of protection that you can count on!

And..just reading on whatever files he can scrape on up on this Crowned Cupcake Cookie…he’ll definitely need to be on guard for whatever she has planned or would be ready to do. He’s more than happy to slap her in cuffs if she so much as LOOKS suspicious..

———————————————————————

Did this mean you won’t be able to come to her picnics anymore? You’ll be giving all your time to Crowned Cupcake Cookie?

It was a pretty unfortunate realization for Cherry Blossom Cookie, she felt like what you and her had was going pretty nicely. It just felt like a pain to her heart to suddenly lose that connection to a cookie she’s never heard about.

She can’t just deny your future spouse a picnic though. In fact…she very much would like to invite her to the best picnic! She promises to make Cupcake’s food R E A L S P E C I A L to commemorate the occasion. She’ll make it so good, it would be to D I E for…

———————————————————————

Your cookies could only internally cringe when Crowned Cupcake arrived on the train and was already hovering around you. She went on a long speech about the fairy tale romance of a princess meeting the one she loves being a reality for her. Financier’s self-discipline was TESTED with how much Crowned was putting her hands on you.

Almost as if she sensed it, Crowned Cupcake started to giggle, her back towards the envious crowd of cookies. She turned back towards them, with wide eyes and creepy smile, her right eye twitching.

“Oh? Am I sensing objections between me and my dearest being together…? If that’s the case…”

She put away her staff…before slowly pulling out a sword from behind her, with dry strawberry jam staining the blade, her smile growing more deranged.

“I’m more than happy to settle any differences. Dungeon or execution..? Hehe…”

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