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#but I've had this picture in my head for weeks and finally had to get it out!! shitty arms be damned!!
herotome · 2 days
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Devlog #142
Hi-ho, Wudge here.
Time to talk about these past two weeks worth of work. Haha... ah....... The good news is that there's quite a lot. The bad news is now I have to type it all out. 😭 The things I do for love (for Herotome) amiright.
Note to self I'm gonna have to carefully save drafts of post throughout because, again, it's A Lot.
Ok so, we'll start off with some Mia stuff.
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Outfit concepts!! Some of yall may recall I struggled hardcore with her hero outfit, but I think it's finally getting somewhere?? After uh... I allowed myself to use black. :') I had it in my head that Dart is the only one who can wear black-- but how unfair is that?! There's a limited number of color families in the world, characters should be able to borrow colors from each other in accent colors! So, I'm much happier now that I've gotten over that mental hurdle.
On the right is a 'party'/gala outfit. I have a few events in mind where the LIs can dress up and look nice, so this is a concept for that...!
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I also made a bunch of these... cut-out images, so highlight her injured hand in-game... ....... Then I realized I could literally just. Show her full sprite and pan it down. Then add a lil spotlight/vignette effect if I damb well want to. :| So uh. I'll be throwing all these out I guess....... It was a learning experience!!!!!! just a bit of a painful one hahaha.
Moving right along, expressions.
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I got through a huge set of Griffin and made some new mouth shapes for Mia! Much to my dismay, Mia's lips are rather more detailed and thus take a bit more time to render..... but I'm getting the hang of it.
I also have been coding in these new expressions for the Mia and Warden scene in the federal center lobby.
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Here's a preview! Maybe I can make a gif of a few branches to crosspost to Ko-Fi...
As for Griffin - I haven't started coding in any expressions yet, but I did set up all his PNGs and can show off the full set here:
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The pictured tool is by Feniks - wonderful, wonderful way of seeing all the expressions at once and quickly converting a specific mood from image into code (which you can see in the lower rightmost corner). I highly recommend it for any renpy devs who are have an overwhelming surplus of character expressions!
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And I experimented with a ghostly text effect (using altered code from Wattson's dripping effect). It's hard to read at the moment and I dont love it - in Herotome it will likely have a proper outline and I might use a special font. It's inspired by this one artist named Endling - back in my teenybopper deviantart days, he had this comic with a big bad wolf character who would talk like this--!
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And of course, updated art of these fools (as seen in my last not-devlog last week)
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I also wrote.. a decent amount... did a fair amount of outlining/plotting.... and Remnantation and I made progress on a new Griffin CG... I designed some other potential NPCs.......
...... You can tell I'm running out of steam for this devlog, I'm sure. I think that'll do it for now.
Stay safe and keep warm,
Wudge.
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godofidea · 4 months
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I'm so normal about Him
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sherlock-is-ace · 2 years
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sourcherryandsprinkles · 10 months
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Conrad deserves better than Belly. After he sees Jere and her kiss, he get his ass to Stanford and meet this cute and smart maybe tutor girl (Haley James style) and falls in love with her and then they show up at Jere's wedding years later and Belly is jelly
I've spent the last five days working on this one.
p.s. it's 2k words...
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
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When Conrad finished his exam, he went back to Jeremiah and Belly. He was going to tell and confess his love to her before she had to get home, but when he got to his car, the scene Conrad walked on made him sick to his stomach: Belly and Jeremiah were full on making out against his car. He stopped short of the car and cleared his throat, causing the two to spring apart from their heated kiss and see Conrad looking right at them. 
Conrad’s face was white. He would rather have had someone shoot him in the head with a nail gun, repeatedly, than have to watch the two of them kissing.
He didn't know who he was more angry at. Belly, who, not even a day ago, had told him she would have fought harder for him if she knew he loved her that much. Or Jeremiah, who, although he knew how much Belly meant to his brother and how fucking in love he was with her, seized the opportunity to kiss Belly the moment he was alone with her.
‘’Conrad—’’ Belly started, guilt settling in her guts. 
He cut her off, his voice cold and cutting. ‘’I don’t want to hear it.’’ 
His gaze shifted from Belly to Jeremiah. There was so much hate in his eyes. How could Jere do that to him? They agreed to stop hiding things from each other and talk, but Jeremiah must have forgotten already. 
‘’You broke up with her, Con, remember? We did nothing wrong,’’ Jeremiah said, pulling facts in his favor to make himself feel better — less guilty — for kissing his brother’s ex.  
When Conrad kissed Belly on the beach last summer, he didn’t know she and Jeremiah were a thing — if he could call it that — or that he liked her. If he had, he wouldn’t have kissed Belly or confessed his feelings to her. Had the situation had been in reverse, Conrad wasn’t sure Jeremiah would have backed off. 
‘’I’m done.’’ Conrad's voice was resolute, his heart heavy as he turned away, unable to bear the sight of them any longer.
Jeremiah moved to follow, calling out Conrad's name. He didn’t stop, needing to be as far as possible from the painful scene. His mind was racing with a jumble of emotions. Anger, betrayal, and a profound hurt gnawed at him. He had trusted both Belly and Jeremiah, yet they pulled this shit behind his back. 
‘’Why do you always have to act like that?’’ Jeremiah said as he quickened his pace to catch up. 
Finally, Conrad turned to face Jeremiah, his expression a mix of sorrow and resentment. ‘’You don’t get to tell me how to react, Jere. You kiss the girl I love outside my school, against my car while she’s wearing my sweatshirt. If you don’t see how disgusting and messed up it all sounds—’’
‘’She kissed me,’’ the younger one quickly defended. 
 Hearing this made him want to pack his bags, get his ass to stanford and focus on school. He needed to turn the Belly page, and in order to do that, he needed to be away from both she and Jeremiah. California seemed far enough, right?
*
The first days and weeks were tough for Conrad, struggling to accept the definite end of the relationship. She was still all over him like a wine-stained shirt he couldn’t wear anymore. 
He blocked both Belly and Jeremiah’ numbers. If he wanted to move on, he had to keep his distance from them. For a while, at least. Then, he deleted all the old pictures he kept of Belly on his phone. There was no going back for them anymore. 
He was done.
*
You met Conrad a little before Christmas break. Just like those cliché rom-coms, you walked right into him and spilled your chai latte all over his sweater. You wanted to break the cliché and not fall for the victim of your clumsiness, but after one look into those beautiful blue eyes, you knew it would be impossible. 
 After that day, you kept crossing paths around campus and, one afternoon, you asked him out. He was so surprised, but he said ‘yes’. 
Although you had sealed the end of the night with a few kisses, you decided to take things slow. You had a very busy schedule with the tutoring lessons on top of your regular program, and Conrad was unsure if it was too soon to get in another relationship, if he was ready for it. The scar Belly had left on his heart was healing, but was he ready to open his heart to someone again? 
‘’Have you ever been in love?’’ you asked one night in his dorm while studying. 
Your question had caught Conrad off guard. It was visible on his face. 
‘’Have you?’’ he returned, not taking his eyes off his textbook. 
He was trying to dodge the question. 
‘’I asked you first,’’ you said, seeing through his plan.
‘’Then yes.’’
‘’How many times?’’
‘’Once.’’
His answers were flat, annoyed he was by all your questions. He wished you would stop and get back to studying in silence, but you kept going. 
‘’On a scale of one to ten, how in love were you?’’
‘’You can’t put being in love on a scale,’’ he said, lifting his head with furrowed eyebrows. ‘’Either you are or you aren’t.’’
‘’But if you had to say.’’
Conrad started flipping through his notes. He hadn’t thought of Belly in months. He missed her — in a different way he used to. She was his friend before they got tangled into this mess.
He didn’t look at you when he finally said it. ‘’Ten.’’
*
The more time he spent in your presence, the more Conrad was — unknowingly — letting go of his past. 
The pictures he deleted months ago became pictures of you, filling his phone until there was no space left. The smell of your perfume lingered on some of his clothes and in his car. He had your coffee order memorized, along with your favorite study-break snack, which he made sure to have in stock in his dorm. 
You became part of his routine — part of his life —, brightening his days even on his darkest, saddest nights. 
He didn’t want to bother you, but nothing was calming the ache in his chest. He tried getting some air and smoking weed, he even thought of calling Laurel, but it was almost 2am in Pennsylvania. Conrad didn’t want to scare her. 
So he pulled up your contact and called, the weight of his grief still heavy in his heart, wishing Susannah was still there. He couldn't believe a full year had gone by since she took her last breath. 
You were about to slip into bed when you saw his name flashing on your phone. You almost didn’t pick up, but you got a gut feeling that he needed you. 
When you opened your door, a saddened look was etched onto Conrad's face, his beautiful eyes glistening with unshed tears. The sight pulled at your heart and you wrapped your arms around him, holding him for the whole night.
Supported each other through finals and all-nighters.
‘’Getting tired?’’ you said, catching him actively fighting against his own eyelids. 
Conrad shook his head, taking a long gulp of his coffee. ‘’No time for sleep. I have this huge exam first thing tomorrow and I still have a lot of chapters to cover.’’
‘’You can take a short nap if you want. I’ll wake you in thirty minutes,’’ you kindly offered, flipping through your notes for a specific annotation. 
‘’Nah, I’m good.’’ He flashed you a soft smile, then returned to his studying. 
A few minutes later, and you couldn't help but notice that Conrad's eyes had begun to droop. They would halfway close and then he would either blink a bunch of times, or widen his eyes until they were bug eyed. It was cute.
‘’Con? Conrad?’’ you called out gently. 
‘’I'm not sleeping. I'm resting my eyes,’’ he mumbled defensively, fighting fatigue.
There was no way he was getting through the night, so you put your notes down and slipped on Conrad’s flannel shirt that was on the back of your chair to shield you from the night air. ‘’We’re gonna need more coffee.’’ 
As you came back with two fresh cups of coffee, you found Conrad fast asleep on your pillow, still clutching his pen.
And held his hand through the rainiest times — literally.
‘’Isn't California supposed to be the sunniest state?’’ Conrad asked, watching the downpour through the windshield, drenched from head to toe. ‘’The seats are all wet...’’ 
‘’You gotta learn to live with the consequences of your own actions, Connie baby.’’ 
It was his idea to get waffles when the sky was looking very gray and angry. He insisted that it would clear out, but a loud clap of thunder echoed on your way back to the car and rain started pouring. You took the road back to campus, but it got too dangerous, forcing Conrad to stop the car on the shoulder of the road and wait for the rain to calm. 
You wiped your face with the sleeve of your hoodie and a smile curled on Conrad’s lips, still the most beautiful to his eyes despite your wet hair and the slight smear of mascara under your eyes. 
 ‘’Rain happens everywhere. Even in the dryest desert,’’ you reminded him, pulling out your phone to check the weather app.‘’Unfortunately, this one isn't gonna stop anytime soon.’’
You toed off your sneakers, making Conrad draw his eyebrows.
‘’What are you doing?’’
‘’We’re gonna be here for a while.’’ You peeled off your hoodie — also wet from the rain —, leaving you in your skirt and dainty bralette. ‘’Might as well occupy ourselves,’’ you explained before leaning over the middle console and kissing him, fastening yourself to him with a stitch. 
The kiss took him by surprise, but he wasn’t complaining. He could spend hours kissing you and never get bored. 
You crawled over the console and on Conrad’s lap without breaking contact, your hands easily finding grip on his hair as you felt his hands all over your body, caressing and pulling. The windows were fogging quickly around you, creating a veil of privacy as more layers were peeled off.
Conrad once believed he had found love, that Belly was it for him, but the feelings he felt back then were nothing compared to how he felt right now. 
‘’You’re the best thing that happened to me,’’ he confessed, his forehead pressed against yours. 
*
The invitation came in a few weeks before the wedding. Conrad couldn’t believe his brother was going through with this. Everything was happening so fast and seemed rushed. Him and Belly weren’t even twenty. Who gets married so young anymore? 
He arrived in Cousins a few days prior to the wedding, surprising everyone — and stealing the attention from the soon-to-be-weds — when they saw a girl with him. 
The only person who knew exactly who you were was Steven. A few months ago, you had posted a picture with Conrad at the beach and tagged him, leading to Steven finding out about his friend’s new girlfriend. He was surprised when he saw it, but very happy for Conrad. He deserved better than someone who plays between two hearts. 
Laurel put down the table-center she was holding and went over to pull Conrad in a hug. She turned to you, making quick introductions, and Conrad held his breath. He’s always been close to Laurel and her approval meant more to him than his father’s or Jeremiah’s. 
While the two of you engaged into a conversation, he saw her. Belly. Dressed in a white sundress and talking to Taylor, she looked just the same. The only difference was, Conrad felt nothing. No pain, no old feelings rising back. 
For the first time, what’s past was past.
‘’Belly, come greet Connie and his girlfriend,’’ Laurel called out to her daughter. 
Although you had never met her, you could tell exactly who she was in the room — and not only because her dress was white. The jealousy filling her eyes when they fell on you gave her away.
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hangmanssunnies · 5 months
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The Hangman Special
Summary: On a night out with your friends at a fancy cocktail bar, you are just trying to keep your head down and ignore the girl that your ex cheated on you with. The night only seems like it's going to get worse when you are dared to kiss a stranger at the bar. However, it seems like the odds might finally be in your favor when you notice a familiar set of broad shoulders. If you can be convincing, you think you might just be able to get your brother's friend Jake "Hangman" Seresin to help you out with your little problem.
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Pairings: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader
Word count: 7k
AO3 Link
Warnings: 18+ only, kissing, hot and heavy make-outs, exs, truth or dare, bad friends.
Author's note: Dreaming about kissing Jake in a bar. Thanks to everyone who looked at earlier drafts of this. I hope you enjoy this if you take a chance to read. My inbox is always open if you want to let me know your thoughts. Reblogs with your thoughts, opinions, and tags are gold to me. I love reading through them.
The bar is buzzing with the loud chatter of patrons, the clinking of glasses, and the rhythmic beat of music. You are sitting at a corner table with your friends, a group with an eclectic mix of personalities. You are known for being more on the shy and reserved side, but tonight, you are even more withdrawn than usual. No one had mentioned that Tassie had also been invited to the evening's hang out at the bar. An oversight you felt was probably intentional since everyone knew Tassie had started dating your ex only a week after your breakup. She went so far as to post a picture of them together on her Instagram. It had been a few months since that happened, and until now, you had managed to avoid running into her. However, it seemed like luck had run out.
"Hey, I've got an idea that would spice up the night," Cece says after the first round of drinks. She is one of your bold and outspoken friends, and you aren't sure you like how she is eyeing you with a mischievous glint. "Let's play truth or dare." 
The whole group groans at the suggestion, and one of your friends vaguely wonders if you're all still in middle school playing that kind of game. Despite the initial lack of enthusiasm, after another round of drinks, the group is laughing and entrenched in the game. 
When Cece sings your name when she finishes her turn, you are nervous by the sly smile she is wearing as she formulates an option for you when you hesitantly concede to doing a dare. "You're the only one of us still single, so I dare you to go over to the bar and give somebody a kiss." 
"What?!" 
"Just a quick one, nothing too scandalous," Cece says placatingly. "Come on, live a little! It's just a bit of fun. What's the worst that could happen?"
"I bet they won't do it. They're too chicken for this kind of thing, not one to step out of their comfort zone," Tassie says. It makes your blood freeze in your veins because you know those words. You have heard that criticism thrown at you in the past, but not from her, from your ex. 
Your eyes narrow at her, and you ask, "Too chicken? Seriously?"
"Yeah. Please, prove us wrong. Show us you can do something spontaneous," Tassie taunts, grinning. You feel a surge of defiance welling up. Even though you're reserved, you are not one to back down from a challenge, especially not when the woman who cheated with your boyfriend is acting like you're the one who should be ashamed. Acting like she is better than you. 
"Fine, watch this," You declare, feeling hot with a mixture of embarrassment and determination. As you stand up, your friends exchange amused glances, convinced that you are about to back out of the dare. 
With absolutely no intention of  backing down, though, you scan the bar. After a moment of examination your heart soars because you realize you have this dare in the bag. You have the advantage even, because there is a familiar tall, broad-shouldered blonde at the bar that you know all too well. Jake Seresin, or Hangman, is one of your brother's best friends, and he is looking just as delectable tonight as he always does. The group would undeniably be impressed with you kissing someone so handsome, and you knew one way or another you could convince Jake to help you out. 
"Cece, I'll even let you pick since you made the dare. Point out the hottest man in the bar, and I'll kiss him." You say confidently. There is no doubt that Jake is the most attractive person there, and he is just Cece's type, too. She falls right into what you want, pointing Hangman out for you. The rest of your friend group hoots, making even more comments that you aren't going to follow through with the dare and approach someone who is that drop-dead gorgeous. 
Ignoring their taunts, you square your shoulders and walk with as much confidence as you can summon into sashaying across the bar. Putting mental effort into trying to project some form of hotness onto yourself not only for the confidence boost but also the bit of spite burning in you. 
Reaching the bartop area, the hesitation starts to set in as you admire Jake's profile. He is sitting on a bar stool leaning against the counter, patiently waiting for the bartender in the crowd that is starting to grow. Taking one last breath to steady yourself, you reach out and delicately set a hand on his bulging bicep. 
"Hangman!" You say brightly as if you're surprised to have run into him. Jake turns to face you at your touch, and an easy wide grin spreads across his face. 
"Fancy seeing you here, my dear! How are you?" He asks as his eyes trace you slowly from head to toe and back again, the grin on his face not slipping once. 
"Oh, I’m fine, and I am so glad I ran into you." 
"Most people are," Jake says, winking at you. You are nearly distracted by his handsome face and flirty tone. He looks like he has put on even more muscle since you saw him last. The green button-down he is wearing appears close to bursting at the seams with how it clings to him. "So, what have you been up to these days?" 
"Are you still single?" You blurt quickly, ignoring his question, not wanting to lose your steam. 
"Yes, Ma'am. Last I checked. Why?" 
"Perfect, can you do me a huge favor?" You ask. 
"I'm always happy to help out a friend," Jake says, sounding increasingly suspicious. The smile hasn't dropped from his face, but his eyes have narrowed slightly, examining you. 
Quickly standing on your tip toes, you loop an arm around Jake's neck, appreciating that he is sitting on a stool, helping level your height difference. Wasting no time, you pull him down to meet you in a quick kiss. Once his lips brush yours, you let go of him, stepping back, not even taking a moment to savor the feeling or enjoy having Jake this close. 
With your mission accomplished, you have every intention of making a hasty retreat back to your friends and hoping that you will be able to forget this. You are going to erase knowing you've kissed Jake Seresin from your brain, and then the next time you see him, you're going to pretend this fiasco never happened. It feels like the best and only course of action for you to take. 
However, you don't even get to make a full step away from Jake before large hands and thick arms circle around your waist, pulling you back towards him. He tugs until you are standing between his spread thighs, his hands maintaining their position on your waist. 
"Woah now, where do you think you're going?" He asks, eyes darting around your face, studying you closely. 
Embarrassment at having to explain your actions rushes through you, turning your stomach and overriding or maybe enhancing the butterflies there. You glance away from Jake towards your friends and see them watching with rapt attention. Then his thumb moves in a slow soothing circle, drawing you back towards him. 
"I'm sorry! My friends dared me to kiss someone at the bar, and when I saw you, well, I knew it wasn't a lost cause because you're not a complete stranger." 
You refuse to believe that the frown that flashes on Jake's face is one of disappointment. However, it's hard to ignore when his eyebrows are scrunched together, and his hands are so warm you feel it bleeding through your clothing. 
"You could at least buy someone a drink before stealing a kiss, you know. That's just some common decency." 
"I'm so sorry, Jake," you apologize again. "Let me buy you a beer for your troubles." 
"Naw, you don't got to." 
"Well, now I have to because you made me feel bad," you say, waving your arm to try and flag down a bartender. 
"I didn't take you for one to just kiss someone on a dare," he says conversationally. You try not to wriggle uncomfortably in his hold, but without even trying, he seems to have pulled you even closer. 
"I normally wouldn't be," you agree. "But the girl who I highly suspect of cheating with my ex while we were still together is here. I'm sure she thinks she's better than me and that I'm a boring prude."
"She clearly has never been around when you drink tequila," Jake laughs. You can't believe he would still remember the camping trip from years ago, where you were drinking tequila. Definitely notable because it was probably the last time you had dared have any of the liquor. 
"Can you please forget about that? And tonight, too?" You request. Jake pretends to think it over, humming lightly before shaking his head. 
"Sorry, no can do. It's already burned into my eidetic memory." You huff at his response, avoiding eye contact with him to try and catch sight of the bartender again. "You know, if you just asked me first, I would have given you the friends and family discount." 
"And what is that?" 
"Pretty similar to buy one get one free," he says, his voice dropping a little lower. Your mouth falls open in surprise, but you can't find any words. "Could have given you more than a quick peck, something that would really wow your friends." 
Trying very hard not to imagine what kind of kiss Jake would consider wowing, you decide to deflect. Jokingly saying, "Didn't think you were from one of those kinda southern states. Do you make a habit of kissing family members?" 
Jake throws his head back and laughs full-bellied at you. "The friends and family of my friends discount then," he amends. 
"I already hate being in this situation. I don't want more of a pity handout than I've already taken."
"Darlin," he sighs, shaking his head at you. "I would have even given you the Hangman special. Which is a deal, bargain, and steal. Comes with a kiss that's guaranteed to impress friends, people who cheated with your atrocious ex, everyone in this bar, and has even been known to, on occasion, inspire a standing ovation." 
"Ha.Ha. You're so funny," you say dryly, rolling your eyes. 
"I am, thank you for noticing," Jake says. "However, I think you deserve that kind of kiss to prove a point to your friends over there." 
"They didn't even think I would be able to make it over here to talk to you." You admit to him, glancing over at your friends again, a little displeased that they are still obviously observing your interaction.
"That them over there?" He asks, following the direction you're looking. You hum in acknowledgment. "Which one's the cheater?" He breathes, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear, sending a shudder down your spine. 
You describe Tassie a bit to him, finding yourself shifting closer into his embrace, enjoying how he is somehow able to help most of the chaotic bar disappear from your senses. It's hard to think about the noise or the increasing number of people starting to press in when Jake's touching you. When he picks out who she is, Jake grunts a little. He lowers his face and nearly kisses your neck over the pulse point. His hot breath tickles the spot, causing shivers again as he declares, "I don't see the appeal." 
"Wish my ex felt that way," you sigh. 
"Fuck him," Jake says with conviction. Drawing a bit back from you to make eye contact again. His green eyes are clear, and in the dimmed mood light around you, they seem to shine even brighter than usual. 
"You sure you don't mind me having kissed you to prove a point?" 
"My dear," he laughs like you told him a funny joke. "I can't imagine a situation where I would mind you kissing me. Let alone one where I get to help you out." 
Sliding your hand up his chest to casually rest on his shoulder, you wonder, "Is the Hangman Special still available?"
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Guaranteed to be wowing?" You check. 
"Got a warranty for you and everything," Jake says lowly. 
Your hand curls around Jake's neck again, and you attempt to tug him closer to you. He doesn't even budge, though. One of his hands slowly traces up your side from your waist until he is cupping your cheek. Then Jake leans close, his breath ghosting over your lips, where he lingers for a moment. Your eyes flutter closed, and as soon as they do, his lips press to yours. This time, it's not a quick peck. 
He is slow and deliberate in how he kisses you. Tilting his head to the side to get a slightly better angle, Jake uses his hand on your face to urge your lips to align better with his. Pliable to his touch, you open your mouth to him, seeking even more, and rewarded when Jake's tongue brushes against your own. You never doubted that Jake would be a good kisser, but knowing firsthand is something you know you won't be able to erase from your memory. When the kiss starts to border on indecent, he pulls away. 
You linger in the moment, keeping your eyes closed until your heart doesn't feel like it's going to burst from your chest. While you are in that limbo spot, his thumb slowly strokes your cheekbone. Sea glass green is the first thing you see when opening them again, Jake not making any effort to veil how he is admiring you. His lips are slightly pinker now than they just were, and you can't help but imagine how pink and swollen they would get if you had the opportunity to get this man alone on a couch. 
Just as you consider requesting that he kiss you again, just to really really solidify how good you are to your friends, because obviously, three kisses are much better than the one they dared you to get, you are suddenly bumped from behind. The motion roughly shoves you against Jake's solid chest. Both his hands automatically return to your waist, tightening as he steadies you there. Glaring over your shoulder at whoever bumped you, he asks, "Are you okay?" 
"Yeah, I'm okay," you breathe. Being this close to him, the woodsy scent of his cologne tickles your nose. And you suddenly wonder why exactly he is in this upscale cocktail bar dressed so nicely. 
"I'm glad you decided to kiss me and not any of these other assholes," he mutters darkly, still glaring over your shoulder. 
"Well, it wasn't really a choice." You reveal, which has his eyes snapping back to you in an instant and a frown pulling at his lips. One of his thumbs that's resumed making circles on your waist stops, and the other falls off your waist entirely now. He doesn't move otherwise, but his presence feels less consuming. Tersely, he responds, "I see." 
"I may have skewed the odds. Told my friends to pick the hottest man they could find. What would you know? They picked you." You explain quickly.
"That's some good luck on your part." 
"It wasn't luck, not really."
"How do you mean?" He wonders. 
"I knew they would pick you." 
"What made you so confident?"
"Because, Jake, you are, hands down, the most attractive person here," you reveal to him shyly. Your fingers curling into his silky shirt, where they have found themselves on his chest after being pushed. 
"See now, I don't think that's true," he says, his eyebrows pulling together. The frown is gone though, the edges of his lips quirking up again. 
"Oh please, Jake. Do not pretend you don't know how handsome you are."
"I'm aware. However, that doesn't change the fact that you're the most attractive person in this bar tonight." 
"You're a flirt," you accuse him. 
"I am," he agrees with no argument. "But that don't make me dishonest or mean I'm not genuine. I haven't been flirting with you just for the sake of it." 
Warmth blooms in your center at his words, and you nearly forget all about trying to escape away from him. Right now, you just want to get closer, as close as he will let you. However, you are pulled out of the fantasy when you look away from Jake's intense gaze to see your friends and how most of the table seems shocked and scandalized. Wryly, you notice Cece giving you two thumbs up. It's like you could almost forget that this was just him being flirty and imagine he was kissing you for more than just helping prove a point. "Well, I appreciate your help with the Hangman Special. I know they will all be impressed and jealous when I head back over there." 
"Now, wait a moment. You can't just sneak away. The Hangman Special not only comes with mind-blowing kisses but also a free night out, all expenses paid, and dinner at any restaurant you choose. "
"You just give that away to any random person who asks?"
"No, only the pretty ones I've had my eye on for a long while," Jake says, his eyes intense, the hand still on your waist flexing tighter for a moment.
"You have?" You ask, completely surprised. 
"Yes, Ma'am," he replies with no hesitation. Before you can respond, the bartender finally makes his way over to you two, asking for your order. Jake instantly defers to you before ordering, asking, "What do you want, my dear?" 
"I thought I already told you I'm taking one of the Hangman specials." You say, after taking a moment to think it over. The grin that lights up Jake's face is sunny and bright, and if you weren't being supported by his strong body, you would have probably fallen over swooning. 
Turning back to the bartender, Jake requests two bottles of water and both of your tabs. As you peek over his shoulder while he signs, you see the bill consists of just one beer, the water, and the two drinks you've had tonight. 
"So you want the full experience?" He asks you when you've taken a sip of water, and he has downed half of his in the same time. 
"From what I know about you, Jake, I don't think you're someone who does things by halves," you answer, fiddling with one of the buttons on his silky green shirt. Then you are pushing a bit on his chest, trying to step away. When you do, Jake's hands find themselves on your hips again pulling you closer to him. 
"Where you going?" He pouts. 
"I just need to grab my purse." 
"Whatcha you need your purse for, sweetheart? Don't you know I ain't going to let you pay for nothing?" Jake drawls. 
"I'm sure you want that to come off gentlemanly, but you're close to flirting with misogynistic." You say, playfully poking a finger into his chest.
"No." Grabbing your hand and bringing it up to his lips, Jake brushes a kiss on your pulse point, saying, "I know exactly who I'm flirting with, and that is you, my dear." 
The laugh you let out is slightly involuntary, but it makes Jake look like he won a prize, so you can't be too displeased, especially not when he has resumed drawing circles on your skin, and it feels like some sort of hypnosis you never want to end. "I'll be right back, and you can keep flirting with me for as long as you like." 
"That a promise?" Jake asks.
"Sure thing," you agree, but Jake still hasn't let go of you. 
"Do you want some company?" 
"You don't have to." 
"Little worried you're going to try and sneak away," he admits. 
"But Jake, I am sneaking away," you say in a fake whisper as if sharing a secret. "Sneaking away with you from my friends and this bar." It makes him smile again, just like you were hoping it would. "Just wait here for me. Okay?"
"Okay," he reluctantly agrees. Despite agreeing, the hold he has on your hand actually slightly tightens. "One more kiss?"
"I'm starting to get the feeling that you're always going to want one more kiss."
"You already know me so well," Jake grins. You press your lips against his again in a quick kiss, careful not to get caught up in it, before slipping out of his grasp. When free, you practically skip away from Jake to grab your things. 
Arriving back to your friends, you're greeted with loud whooping and even some clapping thrown in. Cece is practically giggling as she says, "I really didn't think you had that in you." 
"What were you talking about for so long?" Another one of the group asks.
"Was that kiss as hot as he is?" Someone else wonders, and then questions are coming from every direction before you can answer any of them. 
"It was great, he's great." You manage to get in. When they start to flood you with even more questions, you cut them off. "I would love to talk all about it, but I'm sorry y'all, I'm actually just over here to grab my purse." 
"There is no way you are leaving with that guy," Tassie says incredulously. 
Irritation and anger flares up in you as you turn to glare at her. "Really, there's no way? And why would that be Tassie?" 
"Come on," she says, clearly surprised that you've decided to call her out. "You're just not the kind of person to go home with someone from the bar, and he doesn't really seem like your type." 
"I don't know how tall, handsome, funny, and phenomenal kisser could not be someone's type," You say harshly, snatching your purse and jacket from where you had been sitting. 
"I'm just trying to look out for you," she responds sharply. 
"I don't think that's true," you snap back. 
"Hey now, why don't we all chill out," your friend Marv cuts in placatingly. 
"Sorry to interrupt," a familiar southern drawl says from behind as a warm arm wraps around your shoulder. You nearly sag into Jake. The urge to explode on your friends, more specifically Tassie, instantly absorbed by his presence. "But I was promised I could take this one out on a date tonight." 
"We can't let our friend just leave with a stranger," Cece says, and you turn to narrow your eyes at her, frowning that she is butting in when she is the one who set all this into motion in the first place. 
"While I respect that, I don't think you get to make that decision," Jake says lightly and a lot nicer than you would have in that moment. 
"You could be a crazy serial killer or something," Tassie says. 
"While I am a killer, that's normally just how people describe me in bed," he answers in a flirty, exaggerated way. That has you nearly coughing, you suck in air so hard. He gently pats your back and continues on. "If you're really worried though, you can look me up on Instagram. That's at LT.H_ANGM_N. I hope y'all have a good night. I know we will be," Jake punctuates the sentence with a kiss to the side of your head. 
Stuck between laughing and balking you glance around at everyone’s surprised faces at Jake’s boldness. You know exactly what Jake's last Instagram post was, having spent several minutes the other day debating whether you should like the shirtless picture of him on the beach. 
"Are you ready, sweetheart?" Jake asks you, practically muttering the words in your ear. All he needs is your nod before he confidently starts to turn you and lead you out the door. You manage to throw your friends a small wave goodbye, but it only takes a few steps for them to be out of your mind. 
"Did you drive?" Jake asks you as the fresh evening air rushes over you both. 
"No.” And you’re glad you didn’t when it means Hangman will be driving you home.  
"Good," he grins, "do you mind me driving?" 
"I don't," you answer easily, completely content to follow Jake to wherever he is going to lead you. 
He stops in front of a Jeep Gladiator, and you aren't overly surprised by his taste in vehicles. He goes to open the passenger side door for you, but you don't immediately take his offered hand to get inside. Instead, you tug it as you lean against the side of the truck. Jake follows the motion easily, not hesitating to bend down and mold his lips to yours. 
Jake looms over you, one of his hands balancing his weight against the side of the truck just over your head. The other on your side pulling you a bit closer to him. Looping your arm around his neck for some leverage, you let Jake take over your senses. The softness of his tongue paired with how he nibbles at your lower lip pulls a little whine from you.
When you have to pull away for a ragged breath, Jake groans low in his throat as you press teasing kisses down the column of his neck to the V of skin his shirt shows off. The hand on your waist slides up to cup your cheek and pulls you back to his lips. Kissing Jake is easy, he doesn't leave enough room for you to question if he's enjoying it. Nor do you have the capacity to overthink it as Jake's lips move surely and confidently with your own. All there is is him, his warm strong body, soft lips, and the calluses of his fingers. 
Leaning backward, you pull Jake with you wanting to have him pressed flush because even though you're tasting him, caged in, surrounded by him it still isn't close enough. However, the motion presses one of the Jeep’s jutting door hinges sharply into your back. You can't help but gasp a small "ow" as you try to shift. Concern creases Jake's features, and he pulls you away from his truck into his chest, glowering at the vehicle as if it had somehow betrayed him. 
"You okay, darlin?" He asks, his hands tracing down your back checking for injury. You lean more into his chest even though you don't really need the support, it's just nice to be in his arms. 
"I'm fine," you reassure him. 
"Let's get you out of harms way." He says pulling open the passenger side door. As you start to heave yourself into the tall truck Jake is practically picking you up and easily setting you in the seat. You blink at him in surprise at his show of strength. He remains there, standing in the open door, leaning closer and placing his hand just above your knee, his thumb drawing circles there. Then he asks, "So, where would you like to grab some dinner, my dear?" 
"I've heard of this really great restaurant I've been dying to go to."
"Yeah? Let's make it happen then." 
"Mhmm," you hum in confirmation. "It's called Hangman's House." 
Jake's thumb immediately stops moving and the smile on his face seems to shift. The genuine glint there slipping away, to something hard for you to really identify, practiced or guarded. Whatever the change was you don't find yourself liking it and immediately wonder where you misstepped. 
"So, Hangman's House, that's a pretty exclusive place. They don't usually do unplanned reservations," Jake says after what's nearly an awkward silence. 
"That's too bad. I heard that they have great service." You say a little dejected but glad he told you no in a casual manner that you can play off. 
"You're in luck though, my dear, because I know the owner. I think he would be willing to make an exception for us sometime, but they are better known for their breakfast menu." Jake responds upbeat again. 
"I like breakfast." You mutter in what you think is a flirty way. However, it's obvious that you've missed the mark when Jake's hand drops off your leg completely now. 
"Listen, if this is just a one-night thing, just some making out and fun stuff, where you are going to leave in the morning and pretend it never happened next time we see each other," he says seriously. Pausing, he runs a hand through his hair taking a measured breath, and you watch as the muscle in his jaw flexes. "That's fine, but I need to know it now." 
As you study his face intently it occurs to you that maybe even men like Jake Seresin have insecurities. Maybe he was used to interacting with people where more often than not they only saw him as a handsome face with a nice body. People who were ready to leave the next morning. The realization that a one night stand isn’t the series of events he is interested in with regards to you twists a pit of uncertainty in your stomach. You feel a little uneasy not sure exactly where you stand or what he wants with you. 
Reaching to catch Jake's lost hand and tangling your fingers, you start playing with the big class ring he is wearing. He allows the movement and relaxes his hand further, giving you additional leeway. The distraction of Jake's fingers gives you the courage to say, "I guess maybe I misunderstood that this was going to just be a nice fun night with you. Is that not what you were looking for?" 
"I do want that," Jake says adamantly. " However, I don't just want that." 
"What do you mean?" 
"I want to bring you flowers, dance with you, write you love letters. I want to explore every inch of your body and heart until I know what makes you tick. I want you to forget that any other man besides me even exists." Jake presses himself close to you again, and he turns his hand to thread your fingers tightly together. "Now I'm good, and I mean really good my dear, but those aren't goals I can make happen in one evening. So I want to start with tonight, taking you out and giving you a good time. And then I want to do the same thing tomorrow or whenever you have free time. I want to do that for as long as you will let me." 
"Oh wow," you breathe, taken aback by his declaration. "That's kind of a lot." 
"I know, but I don't want my intentions to be unclear. I wasn't lying when I said I've had my eye on you for a while. I'm happy to go at whatever pace you need; I'll do whatever you want. However, if this was all just getting back at your ex and proving a point. If you can't see yourself wanting anything more with me past tonight again, I need to know." Now, Jake takes his turn playing with your fingers as he breaks eye contact to stare at where you're intertwined. "I'll happily let you break my heart, but I don't want to be blindsided by it. 
Surging forward, you pull Jake in to kiss you again. It's an awkward angle, and the way the truck makes you taller than him feels odd. However, none of that matters when his lips are so pliable against yours. 
"I don't want to break your heart," you tell him between kisses. "I want to go on dates with you, and I want to go home with you. I want to go to bed with you and do it more than once if we find out we are compatible." 
"Are you doubting our compatibility?" Jake asks, raising an eyebrow. 
"Not really, but you know it's better to make sure with these things. Have to double check, I think." 
"That makes sense," he concedes. 
"Now let's get some food so you can take me home and then to bed. Show me these killer skills you mentioned earlier." 
"We can do a lot tonight, but we can't sleep together," Jake says mournfully.
"Why not?" You ask confused. 
"Everyone knows you don't sleep together until the third date," Jake drawls.
"That's a cliche. Plus, why does it really matter?" 
"Because I've been dreaming about forever with you, and when you want forever with someone, you don't want to skip any steps." Jake answers, dead serious and earnestly. It makes you wish you weren't in such an awkward position in the truck. If you were still outside pressed against it, or in the bar even, it would be so much easier to show him the appreciation and affection burning inside. 
"We've got to be somewhere near the third date by now. We have tonight and that camping trip we went on. Oh, and that one time that everyone went bowling. Plus, there was that bonfire a few months ago!" You say, trying to think of occasions you and Jake had spent a good amount of time together. While considering it, you also realize he has nearly always gravitated to your side during group interactions, and going off tonight, that clearly wasn't as coincidental as you had previously thought. 
"You deserve real dates," Jake responds with conviction, and the look in his eye really isn't something you can or even want to argue with. There isn't anything wrong with someone wanting to act like a gentleman with you; it's actually flattering, especially when it's clear Jake isn't going to play any guessing games with you concerning his feelings. 
"Well, then we are wasting time when we could be on our first date," you say, pressing another peck to his lips and lightly pushing him away from you. 
"One last kiss," Jake whispers as he lurches close again for another peck. Then, he gently closes your door and jogs over to the driver's seat, asking where you want to get a bite to eat. 
The two of you end up at a fancy Italian restaurant where you share an appetizer, bottle of wine, and dessert. During dessert, Jake insists you pose for a picture. Despite your initial resistance, he convinces you, and then, nearly as soon as he takes it, your phone lights up with a notification telling you that you’ve tagged you in his story. He tells you before you even ask that he hopes your friends looked him up on Instagram but requests that you repost it on your own just in case they didn't. He claimed it's so they know he's not kidnapped you, but you suspect that it's more likely he wants to prove a point. And it's something you don't mind one bit, especially when he easily lets you post a picture of him on your own story. 
After the restaurant, Jake drives you both out of town a bit to where the sky is much clearer and the stars are visible. The evening isn't warm enough to cuddle in the truck bed like he wanted, so instead, you end up in the backseat with the moon roof completely rolled back. You manage to pretend to be looking at the stars for about three whole minutes before crawlingl into Jake's lap to kiss him. 
Before the making out can get too heated, Jake grips your chin, urging your face upwards to look through the moonroof. Gruffly, he mutters into your ear, telling you to behave. Words that only make you squirm in your newfound place sitting on his lap. He lets you stay there, though, his hands steady on your hips, and his lips leisurely brushing yours or your neck whenever inspiration strikes. 
"What were you doing out tonight looking so nice?" You wonder absentmindedly, unbuttoning the top button of Jake's shirt. It's not with an ulterior motive. Really, it's because Jake's shirt is so soft, and the top of it is hiding his dog tags from you, which you have suddenly decided is unacceptable. The new skin exposed to you is just an added benefit. 
"Ah, nothing to worry about darlin'." 
"Common, you can tell me," you say, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw. 
"You know, whinnies?" 
It takes you a moment to place the restaurant and remember that it's across the street from the bar where you met up with your friends. "The wine bar?" 
"Yeah," Jake confirms. "Well, I was on a date there." 
"Oh." When Jake doesn't say anything, you decide you have to push the conversation forward. "So, what happened to your date? Were they not nice?"
"No, she was real sweet," Jake says, and you feel your stomach drop as if you aren't in the back of his truck and sitting in his lap right now.
"So why did you end up at Gem's?" 
"I was checking Instagram before she got there, and I saw you post that you were at Gems, right across the street. And no matter how nice she was, I knew it wasn't fair that I was thinking of a different person the whole time. So, we didn't even make it through appetizers before I had to be honest with her about that, and then I swung by Gems, hoping I would bump into you." 
"You were at the bar just to see me?"
"Sure was. So imagine my surprise when you found and approached me first."
"How would it have gone if you had approached me first?" You wonder. 
"For one, I would have offered to buy you a drink before stealing a kiss," Jake says teasingly. 
"You're not going to let that go, are you?" 
"Probably not for a while," he tells you. You groan and hide your face in his neck as if that will save you from some of the embarrassment. Feeling his chuckles in his throat and rumble in his chest is soothing, and you pepper more kisses to his neck and collarbone as if you were tracing the sound.
"You wouldn't have left without a kiss, though?" 
"I wouldn't have left without seeing you, and I would have done everything to try and convince you to give me one," Jake promises. 
"How would you have kissed me for the first time?" 
"Are you asking for another demonstration?" he wonders. As soon as you nod in affirmation, he pulls you close, repositioning you on his lap so you're straddling him. The darkness of the truck makes it so you can't quite see how green his eyes are, despite that they are still somehow bright.  He holds eye contact with you for a long moment. His hand cups your cheek, and like earlier in the night, he pauses, not closing the gap, observing you close. When you try to lean forward and seal your lips, he backs his head away. Then he chastises you while wearing a smirk, "I'm goin' to kiss you, baby. Now, let me do it how I want." 
Anticipation tingles in you as Jake leans close; however, at the last minute, he swerves, pressing a kiss to your cheek, then the other cheek, your forehead, and your nose. Finally, his lips meet yours firmly. Closing your eyes, you sigh into the kiss. The feeling of being intimately connected to Jake again is nearly the same as relief. When your mouth opens, Jake licks into you, searching out your tongue with his own. 
There no longer seems to be any will in Jake to tamper down the heat of your kissing. He allows you each time you push the envelope of the moment being just the soft sweet first date kissing he initially claimed to want. As he sucks on the sweet spot, her discovers on your neck, the way you grind downwards is involuntary and completely by accident. A low moan comes from Jake, and you like the way it sounds. So, the next time you grind down on him, it's completely intentional. 
The dark slacks he is wearing don't do much to conceal his hardened length. After a few more rolls of your hips, Jake's hands tightly grip your waist helping you grind against him. He urges you into a rhythm that has whimpers, moans, and gasps passing from both your mouths between hot kisses. As you try to speed up, frantic lust beating so loud you can hear it in your ear, he doesn't let you. Though you are on top of him, there is no doubt that Jake is in complete control. 
Just from this night, it's not difficult to imagine how he will be in the bedroom. Strong,  consuming, and in control. You can picture how he will confidently lead you exactly where you want to go, and you will get there because just a back of the car's make-out shouldn’t cause someone to be as turned on as you are right now. You unbutton his shirt and let your hands roam over his chest. Dragging your nails along his abs causes a full body shudder and Jake to grip your ass so hard you think you might bruise. It doesn't bother you, though, because how can anything that gets you closer to his cock be a bad thing? 
“Jake,” you say in a sudden moment of clarity. He hums his acknowledgment but keeps kissing at your neck and squeezing at your ass. A particularly hard thrust upwards from him nearly has your brain going fuzzy as you desperately try to hold yourself together.  “Jake,” you repeat more forcefully, “we need to stop.” 
“What’s wrong?” He asks concerned, detaching his lips from your skin and losing his hold so he is barely touching you. 
“If we keep at this I'm going to beg you to fuck me right here right now,” you answer. He makes a strangled groan. With his swollen lips, lust filled eyes, and hard dick you're sure he wouldn't actually mind. “Which would be amazing but you told me about a three date rule and I agreed.” 
“I did say three dates,” he responds and looks like he hates himself for it. 
“But if it doesn't actually matter I would like to suck your cock at least once before we fuck.” You boldly tell him, twisting his dog tags in your fingers pulling them taut against Jake’s neck until the release beads give away. The chain falls into your grasp, and you use the warm metal to distract yourself. 
“Fuck me,” he breathes throwing an arm over his eyes and leaning back. “You're perfect, you know that?” 
“I'm not.” 
“You are. So perfect, so hot.” He kisses you like he's about to ignore what you just said. Hot and a little sloppy with tongue and a bit at your lower lip. When he pulls away he rests his forehead against yours saying, “We are going to stop now  because I don't want there to ever be a doubt in your mind that I'll keep the promises I make to you.”
Your stomach flips with affection, and you sag, leaning heavily into Jake, just hugging him tightly, waiting for the lust that's sparked to cool. The two of you even manage to get some actual stargazing in where hands roam but in more so in an exploratory way than sexual. 
Holding hands driving back into the city you can’t stop staring at Jake’s profile, or admiring his fingers or tracing the veins of his forearms. You are focusing on trying to convince yourself that this isn’t a dream, you're definitely going to wake up with hickies in the morning, and another date with Jake Seresin scheduled tomorrow. It’s something that if you had been told at the start of your evening, you would have laughed at the absurdity of the idea. 
"I know it's really soon, but do you think that if you asked me again in a few weeks if I'm still single, we'll be able to change my answer?" Jake asks you after a bit breaking the comfortable silence you two had been in. 
"I think that's possible. What do you think about that?" You wonder. 
"I would change my answer tonight if you wanted me to."
"Jake..."
"Listen, I really like you, and I don't see that changing anytime soon. So as soon as you give me the okay, I will bring you flowers with a promise ring and ask if you want to go steady with me." Jake's thumb rubs along your pulse affectionately, "I'll change my Facebook relationship status. I'll get a nice little charm with your name on it for my dog tags. I'll take you to meet my friends and brag about how amazing you are." Jake leans over at a red light to press a soft kiss to your lips. "The whole shebang." 
"That sounds nice. Does that deal have a special name, too?" 
"Yeah, we can call it the Jake special. It is a whole package, long-term, all-inclusive deal." 
"Extended warranty?" You check jokingly.
"It actually has a no-return, no-refund policy," Jake answers.
"That's a pretty big commitment," you whisper back, even though the idea of keeping Jake all to yourself sounds nothing but appealing. 
"It's not something that expires. So how about tonight, we just worry about getting you home where you're going to let me walk you to your front door and give you a kiss goodnight."
"Just one kiss?" You ask in a pretend pout. 
"Let's shoot for two, but don't be surprised if it's three, maybe even four." 
"I want five," you declare stubbornly.
"Then I'll give you six," he easily offers. 
You try to hide your smile but don't quite manage it. It's a permanent fixture the whole drive home and during all seven of the goodnight kisses you get. They aren't the best kisses in the world because Jake is smiling through them, too. It's okay, though, because you both know there's going to be more in the future, a lot more. 
1K notes · View notes
alltoowelltom · 5 months
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driving lessons
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lando norris x reader
a/n: just wanted to get back into writing and i've gotten super into F1 the last few months
"Alright, y'ready to start?" Lando asks from the passenger seat. 
You hum, running a hand over the gear shift. 
"Yeah. Let's get this shit over with."
Lando chuckles at that, rolling his eyes. It's weird for him, turning his head the other way to look at you in the driver's seat of his McLaren. He usually hates to give up control, especially when driving is involved. 
"You might start to really like it once you get confident." He suggests. "Might even put me out of a job if I'm not careful."
You double check in the rearview mirror one more time. It's a crisp, early morning on a quiet residential street that Lando picked for you to practice your driving in. He's determined for you to pass your upcoming drivers' test and finally get a license. When he'd approached you about teaching you to drive a few weeks ago you'd jumped to the wrong conclusion. 
"I'm sorry if I ask you to drive me around too often," you'd apologised immediately. "You can always say no, I don't mind getting an Uber or catching the train."
"Nah, it's not that, lovie," he'd corrected you, pulling your body closer on the couch and resting his curly head atop of yours. "I like being useful to you and driving you places. I just worry about you when I'm away, there's always so many creeps on public transport. I just want you to be safe."
Your heart had squeezed at his words. Maybe he was right, maybe it was time to finally learn to drive?
"You're all clear." he informed you, twisting around to double check the road behind you. "Just take off the handbrake, put the car into drive and pull into the road, okay?" 
You do as he says, switching on your indicator before pulling out. 
"Oh yeah," he laughs his famously high pitched laugh. "Definitely indicate too, good idea."
"I'm better at this than you already." you laugh. 
You continue to drive along the narrow streets, slowing down to let a stray cat scamper across the road. Lando seems to grow impatient at the pace, motioning for you to speed up a bit, please. 
“I didn’t know this car could go so slowly.” he says, rolling his eyes. “Gonna have to have a word with McLaren about it.”
He directs you to an intersection and you blink at the sight of so many cars whizzing past. 
"Lan, help me," you turn to him with wide eyes. 
"You're fine, love." He grins. "Wait for your gap and then merge the way they're going."
"But they're going so fast." You say. "What if I time it wrong and fuck up your car? This is not the ideal car for someone who can't actually drive."
"This is a great car." he defends. 
"The doors open up instead of out." you deadpan. "This car is out of my league."
He shrugs as he stretches out in his seat, the picture of relaxation. 
"I've added you onto my insurance as a learner driver," he says casually, almost yawning. "It'll be fine." 
You ignore the butterflies in your stomach at his statement and follow his instructions, carefully merging in behind another car. Lando cheers, placing his big hand on your thigh and lightly tracing his fingertips along your inner leg. 
"Stop that!" you shriek, slapping his hand away.
"Huh?" he blinks at you in confusion. "I'm being a loving boyfriend? I love when you have your hand on my leg while I drive, I thought you'd like it too?" he splutters. 
You take one hand off the wheel and bring it to your mouth to hide your laughter. 
"No," you say, cheeks tinged with a pink blush. "I physically can't concentrate on the road when you're touching me. Like I cannot think about anything else but you."
It's Lando's turn to blush now and he turns his face towards his window to hide it, pretending to be oh so invested in the stores you drive past. He knows the effect you have on each other, but it gives him butterflies to be reminded of how you see him. You've only been together a few months and he gets overwhelmed at how quickly you can turn him from a confident, sometimes even cocky guy to a pile of pink mush and hearts in seconds. 
"Right," he blows a puff of air out his cheeks. "You're doing great at this. Maybe we can get you driving the Jolly next?"
thank you for reading! feedback and reblogs are very much appreciated <3
1K notes · View notes
vivwritesfics · 5 months
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(Oh My God) They Were Roommates
Chapter Two - Living "Together"
Lando Norris and Y/N L/N were teammates. Tension had been between from the minute they started driving together and, when it only got worse, McLaren CEO Zac Brown decides there's only one solution: Have them live together.
1.4K
Warnings: Smut! Masturbation, both male and female!
Series Masterlist
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"Where are you going?"
Lando sat in front of the television, a bowl of cereal in his lap. He'd been awake for hours already, had already spent those hours in the gym.
Y/N kept her earbuds in as she walked past him. She had on her gym shorts and top, arm strap that held her phone attached to her arm. "Why do you care?" She spat as she strode across the living room and out of the front door.
As soon as she left the room, Lando rolled his eyes. His question had been perfectly reasonable - she was the one taking it too far. But he didn't let it get to him, didn't react and got on with his day (because he knew that would rile her up more).
Y/N was out for a run for maybe an hour before she made her way back to her apartment. Where as Lando already had everything done, she shifted her day back, to try and avoid him. She stayed in her room and walked around with headphones covering her ears.
She ate dinner late, around 10pm so avoid him. Every day that either of them had to head to the McLaren technology centre they drove alone. No matter how many times Zac suggested they carpool, Y/N completely refused.
It was the most uncomfortable week of either of their lives. With their rooms right next to each other, alone time was hard.
It wasn't just Y/N feeling it. After Lando had done everything to get himself ready, pulled down his pants and gripped his cock as he opened Y/Ns Instagram, he couldn't bring himself to do anything.
Maybe it was the fact that she was in the other room, could hear everything he did to the pictures of hers.
How would she react if she heard him? Would she pound on the wall and tell him to shut up? Would she touch herself to the sounds of his moans? Would she came into his room, drop her robe and climb onto his bed?
Lando wasn't trying to be observant. He just so happened to notice that her side of the fridge didn't empty out and just filled up when her nutritionist brought her more. Lando had one explanation - she wasn't eating.
And he was right. She wasn't eating. Not because she didn't want to, but because it was easy to forget when there were more important things going on.
After their first week together there was a knock on her bedroom door. "What?" She shouted as she tapped away at her computer.
Lando pushed open the door. He took one step in, placed a bowl of whatever her nutritionist had put together for her on her desk and walked back out. All of it without saying a word.
Another week went by and they were still trying to avoid each other. If they weren't avoiding, things were hostile in the apartment.
But then Lando got to something of a breaking point. Y/N could handle it. She could avoid him for the rest of her life if she had to. But Lando couldn't go on, especially with the unveiling of the next seasons car coming up soon.
They couldn't repeat their mistakes from last year, where they tried to kill each other on stage.
Just like before, he knocked on her bedroom door with a bowl of food for her. Just like before, she shouted a 'what?' and Lando pushed his way into the room.
But he didn't put the bowl on her desk and walk out. This time, he stood in the doorway, leaned against the door frame, and held the bowl in his hands. "Can we talk?"
Finally, Y/N looked up from her computer. "What?" She said yet again and leaned back in her desk chair.
Lando let out a sigh. He'd expected this. Expected her to be hostile and uncooperative. "I've made you something to eat. It'll be on the table if you wanna talk," he said and left the room.
As if to make a point, Y/N waited. She waited for a sufficient amount of time, waited until she thought Lando would no longer be there, and left the room to eat. She really did appreciate Lando cooking for her, although she'd never say to his face.
But she was wrong. Lando was still sitting at the kitchen table, empty bowl in front of him. Y/N couldn't hide her scowl as she sat and began eating.
Lando cleared his throat. "We've got the launch of the new car coming up," he said. "And, if we try to kill each other again, I think Zac might actually kill us."
Maybe not kill, but definitely fired. Y/N knew that much. He'd replace them in the middle of the season no questions asked. That was the point they'd gotten to... fighting so much they were on their last warnings.
"I know, I know," Y/N muttered, stilling her fork. "You just need to not be such a dick."
"Me? A dick?" Laughed Lando, although it was the most sarcastic laugh Y/N had ever heard.
"Yeah, Norris. You're a dick."
Lando let out an exasperated sigh. "This is the kind of shit I'm trying to stop. Maybe if we stop avoiding each other and actually try to get along, this years car launch might not be so bad." And we won't lose our seats, but that didn't need to be said.
Reluctantly, Y/N nodded. "Fine," she said and finished eating.
Lando pretended not to notice when she began cleaning up after him. He didn't watch as she did the washing up and put things away.
Lando hadn't expected her to spend time with him right away. And she didn't. As soon as she was finished washing up, Y/N rushed back to her own bedroom and shut herself inside.
Fine, thought Lando as he walked into his own bedroom. The only thing that separated them was a thin wall.
For the next few hours they did their own thing. Lando on his xbox while Y/N was on her computor. The way she typed, fingers hitting the keys so aggressively, Lando could hear it through the walls.
He didn't quite have a clue how thin the walls were before this. He knew there was little to them, but he wasn't expecting this. If he could hear this then that meant...
That was all the motivation Lando needed. He wasn't thinking about whether neighbours in the other apartment could hear him as he pulled his cock from his sweatpants.
He closed his eyes and threw his head back as he moved his hands up and down. The breathy moans he let out were loud, exaggerated as he thought about the girl in the room next door.
He didn't dare say her name, though. That would push things too far, make things too obvious. His moans and whines were breathy as he moved his hand up and down, his grip tight.
He couldn't stop himself from imagining her under the desk with him, lips wrapped around him as she sucked him to competition. That was enough to make him spill into his hand.
And, in the room next door, Y/N could hear everything. A frown crossed over her face and she went to pound her fist against the wall, shout for him to shut up, but then she pulled back.
Landos moans and whines were... hot. Y/N hadn't expected it, to be so affected by the sounds he was making. But she couldn't help it as her hands slipped beneath her shirt, unclasping her bra.
Keeping her shirt on, she slipped the bra off. The feeling of the fabric against her nipples was enough to get them hard, and her fingers certainly helped. She touched them, swirled her fingers around them as she felt herself growing wet.
Gripping her boob, her free hand travelled down her front and into her shorts. She felt her wetness on the outside of her underwear before she pushed her fingers past the fabric.
Her fingers were cold against her folds as she pushed through them, index finger brushing against her clit.
When she gasped, her hand left her breast to cover her mouth. Unlike Lando she kept quiet as she pushed her finger into her hole. Her eyes closed as she played with herself.
She rode her fingers until she climaxed, her cry audible. But she wasn't thinking about that as she climbed into her bed, satisfied and sleepy.
Taglist (OPEN): @biancathecool @hollie911 @topguncultleader @annispamz @carlossainzwho @spideybv28 @wherethefuckisthething @fangirl125reader @minkyungseokie @marialovesf1 @kitixie @i-wish-this-was-me @bborra @formula1mount @charlotte1697 @formulaal @eviethetheatrefreak @lordpercivalcharles @venisvendetta @marie0v @tbsloneely @laur20a23 @formulas-bitch @cmleitora @marvelavengers000 @gills-lounge @andydrysdalerogers @demipatterns
@holy-macncheese-balls
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harrysfolklore · 7 months
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buzzcut - blurb
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this kinda sucks but it was on my drafts sooo why not, hope you enjoy !
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
//
"I wonder how would I look with my head shaved." Harry randomly said one night both of you were cuddled up in bed.
"Where is that coming from, lovie?" You looked up at him, curious by his sudden statement.
"Dunno, I've never in my almost 30 years of age had a buzzcut," he shrugged, "I feel like It's part of manhood to shave your head at least once."
"Your manhood is just fine," you rolled your eyes with affection and pecked his chin, "But if you want to know how you'd look with no hair, you can always look for those AI pictures your fans have been making lately."
Harry laughed and kissed the crown of your head, leaving the conversation at that and focusing on the romantic comedy movie you picked for the night.
Days passed by and you soon forgot about your conversation and Harry didn't bring up his desire to shave his head again, so when he mentioned that he wanted to get a haircut you assumed that he was getting his usual trim.
Oh boy, were you wrong.
"I want to chop my hair a bit before we head to Vegas." He said a week before your trip, Jeff kept insisting that you needed to see the show he had been working on at the Sphere and you finally agreed.
"That's fine, just don't do anything extreme you know I love the curls." You replied, unaware of what he had up in his sleeve.
"Nothing to worry about, baby." You failed to notice the devilish smile on his face that gave away that he was planning something else.
The following day Harry told you that he was going to Ayae's place to get his haircut, which was weird to you because his hairdresser always came to your house to cut his hair, but you still didn't overthink it too much.
Until you got a text from her that read "Don't kill me or your boyfriend for what he made me do."
Just a minute after you got the text you heard the front door open and your name being called from downstairs.
"H are you home? Ayae texted me but I don't know what she means." You said as you made your way to him, he was standing in your living room, his hair being covered by the hood of his hoodie.
"I cut my hair," he said and a confused frown made its way to your face, "And I'm going to show it to you, but you need to promise me you won't freak."
"Why would I freak? Why are you acting so weird about it?"
Harry only smiled and pulled the hood from his head, revealing that his brand new buzzcut.
You stood in your place for a few minutes before reacting, "Is this some kind of joke?"
"It's not love! I shaved it," he got closer to you, a big smile on his face, “Do you like it?”
“Oh my god! Your hair is really gone! What the fuck, Harry.” You laughed in disbelief, grabbing his face to get a better look at him.
“I told you I wanted to give it a try before my twenties ended, remember?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t think you’d actually do it,” you shook your head, “This is crazy! Does Jeff know? Forget about him does your mom know? Oh my god we need to facetime her right now.”
Harry laughed at your rant, “Jeff knows love, he wants to shave his too, and we’ll facetime mum later,” he pecked your lips quickly, “Now wipe that look off your face! You’re looking at me like I’m an alien!”
“This is just so weird, but also such a you thing to do,” you pecked his lips back, “Your fans are going to be absolutely nuts about this.”
“Lord, that’s what i’m dreading the most.”
A week later you and Harry were standing in the crowd of U2's concert at the Las Vegas Sphere, surrounded by friends and other concertgoers.
Somehow Harry's new look gave him a little more privacy, since the world didn't know that his signature brown curls were gone and he could go unnoticed sometimes.
"You've been busted." You said as you noticed a phone camera filming the both of you, Harry was standing behind you with his hand protectively gripping your neck.
"What, love?" He asked, making you discretely point at the person with the camera.
"Well, I guess the madness stars now."
A day later, pictures and videos of Harry's new haircut flooded the internet, making his fans go crazy once again.
taglist: @lightsoutstyles @willowpains @straightontilmornin n @sleutherclaw @gimsaysay @hazzassmirk @platinumbarbie143 @musicforcinemas @celesteblack08 @scntfrhs @eleanordaisy @lomlolivia a @iceebabies @iloveshawn @be-with-me-so-happily @watermelonsugacry @rayisthehoe @drewrry
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alotofpockets · 1 month
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Roommates | Kyra Cooney-Cross x Gorry!Reader & Katrina Gorry x Sister!Reader
Where you start dating your sister's bestfriend after she becomes your roommate.
Woso masterlist | Words: 1.8k
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"You're still going to pick up Kyra from the airport and drive her to her introduction at the Arsenal training grounds, right?" Your sister has asked you this question at least ten times now. Her Matilda's teammates, and one of her closest friends Kyra Cooney-Cross was making the move from Australia to the UK, just like you had done two years ago, and your sister had asked you to look out for her there. 
"Yes Mini, don't worry. I will pick up Kyra and drive her to London Colney. You can go to sleep and stop worrying, I promise I've got her." 
Katrina seemed to finally relax a bit, "Okay, text me when she gets there? I told her to do that too, but she'll probably be too tired from the flight to remember.” Your sister loved Kyra like family, and it was sweet to see how similarly she cared for Kyra as she does for you. 
“I will text you when I see her at the airport, now please go to sleep.” You laughed at the slightly annoyed sigh that escaped her mouth. “Thank you again, and goodnight.” You hung up the phone after wishing Katrina a good night as well.
You finish your workday, and run some errands, before you head home. You made a funny poster to welcome Kyra to London before you head to bed for an early wake up call to head to the airport.
When you saw Kyra walk down the gate hall, she looked exhausted from the long flight, a feeling you knew all too well yourself. She was wearing a pair of sweats and a hoodie, combined with a messy bun. When she laid eyes on your poster her face lit up. Welcome to London, my favourite Tillie!
"Oh we're so showing Mini your sign." She greets you with a hug. “Yeah, let's send her a picture. I promised I'd text her when you landed.” The two of you pose together with the sign, while someone next to you takes your picture. 
“Are you hungry?” You ask while you take half of her bags. “I ate on the plane, but am in desperate need of a coffee.” In the coffee shop you catch up for a bit over coffee, and breakfast for you, before Kyra gets a call. She walks out of the shop to take the call, while you scroll on your phone.
“What’s wrong?” The panicked look on her face as she walked back in immediately grabbing your attention. “That was the landlord of my apartment, he just let me know that he accidentally double signed. In other words, I don’t have a place to stay anymore.” Without a second thought you had a solution for her problem. “I’ve got a spare room that I never use. It’s yours if you want it.”
The following week you helped Kyra get settled and went with her for her introduction meeting at Arsenal. Initially you would just drop her off and pick her up later in the day, but she had insisted you’d join her. Together you got the Arsenal tour, and you sat to the side for all her video and picture moments. All in all, it ended up being a fun day.
The two of you had gotten close quickly over the days that passed, sure you had known each other already, but now living together brought you on a whole new level of friendship.
Tomorrow would be Kyra's first training session at Arsenal, as well as meeting the team for the first time. Besides her Aussie teammates Steph and Caitlin, she didn't know anyone more than a familiar face. You had known she was nervous, but you didn't realise just how much until she knocked on your bedroom door.
“Hey Ky, what's up?” The usual smile the girl was wearing was replaced by a frown. “Were you homesick when you first moved here?” You had been so adamant that she was just nervous, that you hadn't taken the move to another continent into consideration. “Yeah, I did. Come here.” Patting the spot on your bed besides you, you offered her a place to sit. 
You talked for a while before you both fell asleep. The next day you drove Kyra to her first practice with Arsenal. You were just going to drop her off, but when you saw Caitlin get out of her car, you had to go say hi. You knew all of the Tillies from the many times you had met them in the family and friends hall after matches. 
“Y/n, hi, what are you doing here?” She greeted you with a quick hug. You point back to your car where Kyra appeared from behind the trunk. “Ky has been staying with me.” 
On queue Kyra appears beside you, and drops her bags to hug Caitlin tight. While the two of them embrace, another player walks up to greet you. You knew it was Katie, but as far as you remembered you had never properly met. “Hi, I'm Katie, nice to meet you.” She extends her hand. “Y/n, nice to meet you too.”
Katie inspects you, trying to figure out where she knew you from, until it finally clicked. “Oh you're Gorry’s little sister, aren’t you?” Kyra stepped out of her hug with Caitlin to defend you. “She's her own person you know.” It was really sweet, but you really didn't mind. “It's fine Ky, I am.” You rolled your eyes at her defensiveness, but behind that facade you secretly loved how she stuck up for you. 
From then on Caitin and Katie picked up Kyra for practice, since you basically lived on the route to the training centre.
Kyra joined you in your room on more days than not over the next few weeks, and you would be lying to yourself if you didn’t enjoy the moments you spent together. You were quickly falling for her, and every part of you hoped that she felt the same way. 
Then one morning you woke up with Kyra cuddled into your side, and her leg draped over yours. You lift your hand to gently play with her hair, she hums with enjoyment and cuddles further into your side. “Good morning to you too.” You were like a deer in headlights, caught by the fact that she had, unbeknownst to you already been awake. “Don’t stop.”
You release the breath you were holding and continue. You must have laid there for another hour before you got out of bed. “Can I maybe take you out for breakfast?” The way her eyes lit up at your question was enough for you to realise that she did indeed feel the same way. “I would love that.”
The two of you had been together ever since, just keeping it to yourselves to enjoy your time together away from prying eyes. Which is why you were stressed since your sister had called that she was coming to visit with her family, because she was meeting with the West Ham United team. You had offered your home as a place for them to stay while she had her meeting, and while her and Clara would be looking at homes for their family. 
“Relax babe, we never changed my room back to a guest room, so they won’t notice a thing if we act like just friends for a couple days.” Kyra tried reassuring you. You had talked about telling her, but ultimately you decided that you weren’t ready to tell her yet, and Kyra was fine with that. 
Kyra offered Mini and Clara her room, while she took the couch, and your niece Harper was overjoyed to be having a sleepover in your room for a couple of days. It was nice having your family around, and you were excited to have them closer after the move as well. 
Mini and Clara were out house hunting while you and Kyra spent some time with Harper. Harper insisted on some painting, and you could not stop laughing when the girl had started painting Kyra instead of her paper. While Harper was dancing and singing her little heart out to Frozen, you cleaned Kyra’s face. When you were done you placed a quick kiss on her lips. “All done.”
Meanwhile a few blocks over Mini’s mind was on something besides house hunting. “I think they’re together.” She stated to Clare, who was busy inspecting the kitchen of the place they were currently in. “Who?” 
“Y/n and Kyra.” This got Clara’s attention. “What makes you think that?” Mini went on and on about how Kyra’s room looked like it hadn’t been touched in weeks, that you looked so comfortable together, the glances she had noticed between the two of you, and just the general vibe when the two of you were in a shared space. “Well, if they are, what would you think of that?” Mini thought for a moment before ultimately deciding that she thought the two of you would be cute together and good for each other. 
Mini had not expected to get answers to her question on if the two of you were together or not, but when she put Harper to bed, her little girl snitched on you right away. “Did you have fun today?” The girl nodded her head enthusiastically before telling her mom all about the things that you had done today and finished her story with, “Oh and Auntie and Kywa was kissing.” Mini smiled to herself. “Oh did they now, sweetheart? I am glad you had a good day. Sweet dreams.” 
The next morning you head out to breakfast all together, before your sister and her family fly back for a couple more months. “This place is great, y/n. Where did you find it?” You’re glad that they are enjoying the food just as much as you do. “I took Kyra here when she was all settled in.” You were soaking in all the time with your little niece as much as you could, so you were helping her colour in her drawing while you were speaking to the adults at the table.
“Oh, did you go here for your first date?” Since you were so focussed on the colouring you didn’t think before speaking. “Yeah- oh.” Your head shot up at your older sister, though you relax when you see the proud smirk on her face. “You knew?”
Mini points to Harper, “We’ve got ourselves a little snitch on our hands, she saw you two kiss yesterday. I did also have a feeling already.” You felt relieved now that your sister knew, because she was the person you were most scared of telling, with Kyra being one of her best friends and all.
You drove Mini, Clara, and Harper to the airport with Kyra, where you said your temporary goodbye’s. Knowing that they would be back in two months to move to London. You couldn’t wait to have your family close again. 
-----
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ssahotchnerr · 9 months
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Reader sending Aaron cute messages when he’s off on cases and him not realizing he’s kinda smiling when reading them? Or they just make him in a much better mood in general and the others let reader know when they’re officially introduced? Idk it sounded cute in my head LOL
all thanks to you
omg that's ADORABLE cw; FLUFF
"you!" you had merely crossed the threshold of dave's foyer, only to be attacked by a sudden, warm embrace.
"me?" you said within a laugh. you caught yourself before penelope's abrupt hug caused you to lose your footing, quick to reciprocate and the butterflies in your stomach somewhat lessening.
it was your very first night meeting the bau team, and you had been beside yourself with nerves for close to a week now - ever since aaron had first mentioned the get-together. as they were the next closest thing to aaron's family than jack, you equally wanted to make a perfect first impression.
you must've shown aaron at least five potential outfits before you had left his apartment, asking him over again if he were sure the time was right for you to meet them, and if he was even more sure they would take to you.
aaron had reassured you, that first, you would look stunning in whatever you wore. and second, they would adore you. he offered the comfort that he himself wasn't worried, because he knew them, and he knew you. "trust me," he had said, chuckling softly as he grabbed his car keys. "i'll be long forgotten once they get to know you."
likewise, aaron had already warned you - penelope was ecstatic to meet you and would not keep that hidden in the slightest. but if she were half of what aaron had already described, you knew the two of you were guaranteed to be instant friends. and her current show, was pure evidence of that.
"it's so nice to finally meet you. you have no idea how long i've been waiting." penelope grinned, buzzing from ear to ear. "like, once hotch opened a text from you while we were all sitting around, y'know, being productive. and boy, i knew he was a goner."
"really?"
"are you kidding? okay," she takes a second, as if she's mentally preparing herself, ready to paint the picture. "we were sitting there, like i said. his phone goes off, and y'know that normal face he makes - eyebrows kinda pinched, mr mcpouty pants? - you know the one. he picks up his phone, reads it and he smiles. full-on smiles, right in front of us. he didn't think we noticed, but we did. didn't he smile?" her hand smacks out onto derek's arm, who happened to be passing by, resulting in a gentle slap.
"yeah babygirl." derek flashed a smile in your direction. "saw it with my own eyes."
"so," penelope's hand now flew onto your arm, resuming her energetic story. "when he realized he smiled, god forbid right - mr grumpy face returns, rather labored this time because again, the world will end if we witness anything otherwise. hotch simply puts down his phone as if it were nothing, but oh my god, he was blushing so hard i thought he was gonna explode. he was so so tickled."
"aww," you laughed, your lips curving into a smile and more love for aaron - if it were possible- swelling in the middle of your chest. "that's so sweet."
"oh honey, and that's one time out of, millions. dare i say, he got used to smiling and was generally in such a better mood all around." she lightly shakes your arm. "earlier nights, later morning starts, no more mr mcpouty pants - well, for the most part. all thanks to you!"
you felt a familiar presence still behind you, a hand finding your back. "you blush when i text you?" you turned your head up towards aaron, blush of your very own tinting your cheeks.
aaron shrugged reservedly, helping you slide your coat off your shoulders and folding it over his arm. "i did mainly at the beginning."
"sir, no." penelope shook her head, a pleased smirk vibrant on her face as her gaze switched between the two of you. "you were blushing today."
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aemondsbabe · 4 months
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A Kindness
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summary: you're finally ramsay's most favorite toy, but is that really a good thing?
pairing: ramsay bolton x reader
warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, dark content it's ramsay hello, blood kink but no injury/gore, mentioned major character death (again, no injury/gore), slight au (ramsay wins battle of the bastards), choking, rough sex, dirty talk, humiliation/degradation, slapping, piv sex, unprotected sex don't be silly wrap ur willy, hair pulling, creampie, slight breeding kink, puppy play, boot humping idk how to else to phrase it, slight angst but a happy ending for ramsay lmao, let me know if i missed anything!
word count: 6.2k
a/n: my first foray into dark or at least semi-dark writing and my first time writing ramsay! i've had this one in my head for such a long time so it feels really good to actually get it out! hope everyone enjoys and please make sure to heed the warnings with this one!
likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!
🖤 my masterlist
🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!
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“Dip the cloth again, you dolt,” you snap, looking up from the scroll of parchment rolled out before you on the table when you hear the coarse woolen cloth begin to scrape dryly across the silver Ramsay’s… thing was supposed to be polishing, “If I have to remind you of that one more time, I’ll tell him you tried to touch me. I wonder which part of you he’d hack off for that, hm?” 
Reek’s eyes go wide at your threat and he nods his head frantically, quickly reaching over and dunking the cloth into the small bowl of vinegar before him. “Yes, m’lady. Apologies, m’lady.” 
A small sigh leaves your lips as you rest an elbow on the table, nose scrunching up slightly at the sour smell that seems to hang like a cloud over the room, the small one by the kitchens.
 Probably where the staff ate, you think, staring blankly at the fire crackling away in the hearth. You’ve tried hard to picture it – Winterfell in its former glory, trussed up with wolf banners and filled with children’s laughter, how it was when the Stark’s called it home. 
Your eyes linger on Reek and for a second, you’re halfway tempted to ask him about it – what it was like living here, being one of them. You don’t, knowing the question would fall on deaf ears at the least, or send him spiraling to the point of being unable to finish his chores, and then it would be your head on the chopping block as well. 
Distantly, you hear the familiar baying of Ramsay’s hounds and your eyes flick up to the narrow slit windows on the wall; you do your best to ignore the way Reek’s head swivels to the sound in the same instance yours does, the way that adrenaline so keenly rushes through you – a burst of panic leading the charge before you have the chance to correct it. 
Anticipation, you remind yourself, jaw clenched, Passion, excitement. 
Your eyes vacantly scan over the parchment you’d nabbed from the library earlier that morning, an account of the birth of Arya, apparently the sister of the one that had actually managed to escape some weeks back, no doubt frozen now in one of the snowy forests that surrounds Winterfell. You don’t really care, your thoughts once again reverting back to Myranda. Bitterly, you remember how he never made her stay behind when he went hunting, never made her watch over his man-servant, never made her second guess.
The last one is a lie, the truth woven deeply into the many nights you’d spent up with her – listening as she fretted about each word she’d uttered to him that day, hoping each one had been right and had been said at the right time, that he wouldn’t find some made-up cause to punish her. Tendrils of jealousy had twisted into you even then, even as she painted a picture of what he truly was. 
Just as men’s voices filter through the windows from the courtyard outside, your lips quirk up into a mean, victorious little smirk. 
It’s her body he fed to the dogs, you think, the voice in your mind a proud hiss, Just like Violet’s and Tansy’s and Kyra’s. You remember the day well enough, remember the shock of seeing your friend's body laying in the courtyard as you’d run out to greet Ramsay, teal eyes staring at nothing. It had been you that had warmed his bed that very night, and all the ones after it. 
“There you are,” a familiar voice sounds from behind you, nearly making you yelp as Reek scrambles to stand up from the table. Before you even have a chance to, a strong hand clasps over your shoulder, stilling your movements, “No, no, don’t get up on my account.” Rusty copper stains color his hand, dried blood outlining each of his nails. You don’t let your mind linger on what the source of it could be.
You whip your head around and swallow nervously as he chuckles lowly, “Ramsay!” You breathe in greeting, the corners of your lips tilting up into a tentative smile, though that’s quickly washed away as you take in the messy splotches of red that stain his coat and tunic, that snake their way up the pale column of his throat and dot the sides of his face. 
He looks every bit the hunter and you wonder, not for the first time, what that makes you. 
“You seem quite comfortable here, pet,” he drawls, leaning down until he’s eye-level with you, “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re more at home down here with the help,” he continues, hand tightening to the point of pain on your shoulder, making you grit your teeth, “Than you are in our chambers where you’re meant to be.”
Our chambers. A privilege he never granted her. Stupidly, your heart sings. 
His hand tightens on your shoulder once more, finally drawing a pained whine from your lips.
“Y-You told me to watch him! To make sure he –” You’re cut off as Ramsay unceremoniously hauls you to your feet, clawing at your leather doublet. A cry leaves your lips as the hand on your shoulder tangles into the hair at the nape of your neck, tugging as he forces your head back, blue eyes flicking to your neck as you swallow thickly. 
“I told you to be in our chambers when I return from hunts,” he corrects you, standing to his full height as he holds you tightly, forcing you unsteadily onto your tip-toes, “That I expected you to be at the door, ready and waiting for me.” His lips ghost over your ear as he speaks, his voice a low growl that shouldn’t excite you the way it does. 
“I’m sorry,” you wince internally at the way your voice comes out as a pained little squeak, your hands scrambling to hang onto his forearm, nails digging into the stained quilted fabric of his jacket.
“You know how I get after a hunt,” he suddenly pulls away from you, his hand pulling out of your hair, a gasp leaving you as your heels drop to the floor. You blink as he reaches up, not flinching from years of practice, though instead of striking you or harshly gripping at your jaw like you expect, his hand cups your cheek. Your chest rises and falls as he strokes his thumb over your cheekbone, blood stained fingers now delicate against your soft skin. 
“Today’s was a special one, too. Don’t you remember?” He questions, icy eyes sliding from yours to the red-headed man still standing by the table, glimmering cruelly as he smirks. 
Still, you nod your head, knowing Reek won’t answer. “To celebrate killing Jon Snow,” you breathe, gripping at the leather of his tunic, desperate to win even a scrap of approval.
Surprisingly, he grants it – fixing you with a proud little grin, like how an owner would look at a dog that’s just mastered a new trick. “That’s right,” his hand ruffles the hair on the top of your head, a gesture that should feel demeaning, yet it sends a tingle of pride through you instead, “Seems you can remember something after all.” He pulls away and traipses over to Reek, hands clasped behind his back.
“Surely you remember too, Reek? You were in the kennels that evening when the dogs had their treat, were you not?” He taunts, the playful inflection in his voice entirely for show, “Our little problem’s been dealt with and now we hold not only the Dreadfort but Winterfell as well! What do you think about that, hm?” Ramsay studies the other man carefully, eyes flitting over his face as he takes great pleasure in the subtle twitches of pain that still manage to flicker through the harsh conditioning he’d endured. Your eyes stay fixed firmly on the stone floor. 
“A… A great victory, master!” 
“Yes, a great victory, indeed,” he smiles, watching Reek for another moment before turning back to you. His smile morphs into a cold, callous frown that ties your stomach into knots, each of his steps making your heart hammer faster in your chest. “You know, it’s actually rather amusing,” he starts, bloodied fingers twirling a stray lock of your hair, “How my hounds seem to be continually more well trained than you, pretty little idiot.”
Pretty, pretty, pretty! Your heart thumps dumbly, a rabbit in a snare. 
“I’ll do better!” You whimper, shaking your head frantically as your eyes meet his, “I can do better, really, I was just confu–”
The hand in your hair shoots down suddenly, yanking several strands with it as he clamps it around your neck. “Confused?” Ramsay murmurs, watching with rapt attention at how you struggle in his hold, lips quivering as the words die in your throat, “Really? I give you one task, I ask one thing of you, and you can’t even figure that out? You still disappoint me?” 
He’s not expecting an answer, you know this, and yet you still try to give one as your mouth opens and closes, like a fish out of water, only the faintest little whines managing to escape. You feel faint, both from his grip around your throat and from the myriad of emotions coursing through your veins – your heart twists at the thought of failing him, your stomach is in knots as various punishments flash through your mind, and yet your center still sparks, still sends little glimmers of arousal through you. 
His grip loosens enough to allow you to suck in several shaky lungfuls of air as he snickers, endlessly amused at how eager you still are, how you still yearn so deeply for him. Again, he pats your head condescendingly, muttering little hushes as if you were a crying puppy. “Lucky for you, pet, I have plenty of experience training stubborn bitches,” Ramsay chuckles, blue eyes glimmering with mirth when he feels you swallow apprehensively, “I think we’ll have your behavior corrected in no time, won’t we? Even the stupidest of beasts can still learn a trick or two.”
Before you have time to react, the hand cradling the crown of your head harshly grabs at your hair again, tugging you suddenly toward the door. “Ah!” You yelp, stumbling as he all but drags you behind him, your hands shake as they struggle to grab onto his forearm, “Ramsay, pl–!”
“You should be grateful I am allowing you the kindness of walking!” He growls, sparing you a glance over his shoulder as he leads you through the Great Hall, “Pity I’m so protective of you, really, I’m sure it would be quite entertaining for my men to watch you crawl.” His drawled threat sends a spark of fear down your spine and you pant, chest heaving, as you shuffle behind him; your cheeks burn as several of his soldiers sitting at the long wooden tables catcall as you stagger past them.
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Finally, the two of you reach your shared chambers, that fact sending a little torrent of satisfaction through you even now. Unceremoniously, Ramsay all but tosses you inside and you whimper as your hip collides with an edge of the decorative table just inside the door, no doubt hard enough to bruise but at least it breaks your fall. 
“It’s quite unfortunate, normally find your impudence amusing,” he starts lowly, pressing the old wooden door closed with a thud before sliding the lock into place with a self-satisfied grin, “But I know you know better, don’t you, little one?” He asks as he stalks toward you.
Your breath catches in your throat as he stands before you, studying you silently for a second in the same calculated way he studies a deer through the sight of his bow. Not knowing what else to do, you silently nod your head as your eyes slip down to the floor, like a child being scolded. 
“You’ve been with me the longest now,” he murmurs as if you don’t know, one bloodstained hand grabbing at your waist as the other fits around the back of your neck, once again forcing your eyes to his face, “We grew up together, you and I. You know my ways, my rules, isn’t that right?”
Again, you nod your head, bottom lip trembling with the want to explain yourself, although you know that would only make things worse.
“That’s what makes your disobedience so frustrating,” his blue eyes bore into yours as he speaks, his lip sticking out in a mocking pout, “Because you do know better and yet you’re stupid enough to act out anyway, hm?” His tone is sharper now, dangerous like the pointed tip of an arrow.
“I wasn’t acting out!” The words claw themselves out of your throat before you can stop them and instantly you know you’ve made a mistake, but now you’re desperate to remedy it, “I wasn’t, really! I j-just misunderstood you, that’s –” 
Your pleas come to a screeching halt as his hand smacks across your face, the other grips at your jaw tightly, tight enough to make you whine softly in his grasp. Your eyes squeeze shut for a second, cheek stinging, before they open and lock with his again, wild and desperately. 
I wasn’t being insolent! You scream silently, hoping he can somehow hear you, that maybe all of your years with him would’ve granted that ability, I would never! I was doing as you said, like always! 
“I was wrong earlier, wasn’t I?” Ramsay mutters, so close to you that your foreheads nearly touch. Your eyes widen slightly at his words, heart thumping in a hopeful little staccato, though he wrenches that away quickly enough, “You’re not a dog at all, no, a dog would be obedient and docile.”
Your brows knit together with confusion at his words, biting so hard into your lower lip that you’re shocked you don’t taste blood. Although, you can’t help the surprised little gasp that leaves you when his hands begin quickly tugging at the laces of your bodice as your own remain in white-knuckled fists at your sides, the whole of you determined to stay still like a statue, a plaything. 
“No, you my sweet little pet,” he growls sarcastically, low voice morphing into a pleased chuckle as he tugs your bodice off; the shirt below it quickly follows and a small part of you blooms with pride at the happy little sigh he lets out at the sight of your breasts. 
“You’re just a dumb puppy, aren’t you?” He chuckles against your throat, nipping at your skin more so than kissing it, although you relish the feel of his lips on you all the same. “A dumb, defiant little puppy,” he continues, hastily pulling at the ties of your skirts and you whimper despite yourself when they finally fall to the floor, pooling at your feet, “That’s in desperate need of more training.” 
He stops, pausing for a mere second, and pulls back just enough to look at you, no doubt gaining satisfaction from the desperation written so plainly on your face. There’s a hunger in his cold eyes – a predator silently deciding to go for the jugular, nocking an arrow on his bow. 
You whine as he properly kisses at your throat now, his hands rough against your skin as he grabs at your hips. One skims higher to cup your breast, the unexpected gentleness of his touches causes you to shiver and whine in his grasp and into his mouth as he kisses you finally, his full lips moving steadily in time with yours. 
Harsh pants leave your lips as your heart pumps madly in your chest, his touches always work you up so quickly. The thought of him still being fully clothed as he left you bare and vulnerable made you hotter still; the feel of his warm leather tunic against your exposed skin, of his bloodied hands against your supple skin, drives you mad. 
Before you have time to second guess your movements, you begin blindly pulling at the strings on his leather tunic, desperate to feel him against you. Surprisingly, he lets you tug it off of him, granting you a last meal of sorts, and you can’t help but to smile into the kiss, gasping into his mouth as he unbuttons his jacket himself before quickly tossing it aside as well. He’s panting nearly as harshly as you are as the two of you part long enough for him to pull his shirt over his head, your hands immediately go to his chest the second it joins the ever-growing pile of clothes on the floor. 
Your eyes flicker over him as the two of you pause, the knot in your belly growing tighter at the sight of his taut stomach and chest, the low, warm glow of the many candles dotted throughout your chambers accentuating each muscular dip. Your fingers shake as they trail over him and you feel a sick sense of pride twist in your stomach at the fact that, unlike so many men, his skin isn’t mottled with years of scars and bruises. No, his is flawless, a pale, unmarred, ruthless canvas – a flawless killer. 
Of course, he can’t let you have this reprieve for long. A good trainer doesn’t spoil his pet. 
A soft, broken gasp leaves you as one hand wraps around your neck again, slotting perfectly against your throat like a collar, as he walks you a few paces further into the room, closer to the small hearth by the bed. “Kneel,” his command leaves no room for anything but obedience; you swallow thickly, nervously, and do as he says, lips parting ever so slightly when your knees rest on plush bear skin instead of hard stone. 
A kindness, even now. 
Ramsay’s lips twist into a proud grin as you stare up at him, legs folded beneath you with your hands poised perfectly on your thighs, a familiar stance he’d taught you years ago. “Good girl,” he mutters, fingers threading gently through your hair as you moan softly. 
“Thank y – Ah!”
“No,” he chides harshly, tugging your head back by the roots of your hair until your neck is bared to him, your back arched, “Puppies don’t talk, dumb little thing,” he growls, shifting more closely to you in order to gain a better hold on your hair, close enough that you whimper as your front is pressed firmly against the length of his leg, the thick fabric of his trousers rough against your skin as one of his feet slots between your thighs, “A well-trained pet certainly doesn’t.” 
The knot in your belly seizes at his words, aided by the laces of his leather boots brushing oh-so gently against your center, the knotted fabric sticking against the wetness already leaking from your clenching cunt. You whine, high-pitched and frantic when he clutches your hair tighter still, his fist white knuckled against the crown of your head. 
“A well-trained little pet would always obey their master, wouldn’t they?” You can’t miss the breathiness of his voice now, his tone lower and smoother than it normally is, and the sound makes your hips hump against his boot before you can stop yourself, your nipples stiff, nearly aching, as they rub against his trousers. 
A low, rumbled laugh echoes through your chambers when your arms wrap around his leg, fingers digging desperately into the firm muscle of his thigh. “Aww,” he coos mockingly, licking his lips as he watches you, his attention making blood rush to the apples of your cheeks, “Is my pretty little puppy getting off on this? Does your cunt drip when I tell you how stupid and worthless you are?”
The sound of your blood pumping furiously through your veins thuds in your ears, Pretty, pretty pretty!
You whine as you try to eagerly nod your head, his hold on your hair preventing you from moving much, though your hips rut steadily against his boot now – pressing tightly against the worn fabric, the knots from his laces rubbing perfectly over the throbbing little pearl at your center. 
“You look like you’re having fun,” he drawls, cold eyes shining as he studies you closely, chest heaving in time with yours as his cock hardens in his pants, “Are you having fun, little one?”
Again, you try to nod, keening brokenly as your eyes stay fixed on his. You pant harshly against his leg, breath fragmented as they’re punched out of your lungs, the knot in your belly growing tighter and tighter with each pass of your slick center over the laces of his boot. 
He knows, of course. As soon as he ordered you to stay in the kitchens with Reek this morning, he knew – knew you’d follow his orders to the letter, even if they contradicted his previous ones. He knew he’d find you there, knew he’d punish you for it, knew exactly how he wanted to break you down so that it could be him who built you back up. He’s known you the longest, you’d grown up together. He knows, of course he does. He’s nothing if not a thorough hunter. 
A loud, broken whine leaves you when he flexes his foot, pressing his boot harder against you still. You’re helpless to do much else aside from stare up at him, gasping, while your hips buck against him as quickly as your sore muscles will allow, your high barreling toward you at a breakneck pace. 
All of that comes to a sudden, screeching halt though when he moves again, shifting his weight until his boot is just out of reach. The sudden lack of stimulation makes your back arch further still, your muscles taut like a drawn bow. 
“Oh, poor little puppy,” he laughs, watching gleefully as you whine loudly, the peak that had been so close fading away, leaving you aching, “If you thought it was going to be that easy, you haven’t been paying attention.” He taunts, crouching until he’s eye-level with you, smirking as his movements cause his pull on your hair to become tighter, making you wince, though his hand thankfully releases its grasp once he settles.
“Mmm,” you mewl softly as he caresses your breasts again, jumping slightly when he thumbs over your nipple before softly pinching at it, giving the other one the same treatment. Your eyes flutter shut as you arch your back further still, pressing against the palm of his hand as he kneads at your chest, eager for any stimulation you can get.
“Myranda was never like this,” he says suddenly, his voice low, steady, calculated. He smiles cruelly when your eyes snap open at the sound of her name, the back of your throat tight as tears already blur your vision – just like he wanted. “No, Myranda always behaved perfectly, she always did exactly what I said.” 
He leans forward suddenly, the side of his face pressed firmly against yours so that when he speaks, you’re sure to hear every syllable, to feel them punctuated against the skin of your neck. “She was perfect. I never had to punish her for the same thing twice, you know. Not like I do with you.” 
You shudder as his lips press against your skin again, pressing eager kisses against the wet trail of tears running down your cheek. He admires the way your shoulders shake as you sob, the way the subtle movement makes your breasts bounce, the way your cheeks flush so prettily, how your eyes always shine so brightly with fresh tears in them. 
Ramsay loves breaking you – adores the moment when his arrow is finally launched free from his bow, adores the moment he sees it pierce your little heart. He loves you, in his way. 
Not that he’d tell you that.
He lets you sob for a moment longer, all the while pressing hot kisses against your cheeks, relishing the salty taste of your tears as the little droplets of blood still caked to his skin mar your pretty face, staining it with delicate streaks of red. His cock twitches at the sight, black pupils nearly drowning out the blue of his eyes – maybe one day he’d bring you hunting, what a sight you’d be covered in the bright blood of a fresh kill. 
“Myranda never needed training, puppy, not in the way you do,” he nearly whispers, the corners of his lips twitching up into a small smile as he leans back enough to grab at your chin, tilting your face up to his, “That’s what made her so boring.”
“Huh?” You breathe, sobs stalling for a second as you process what he’d just said, your obvious surprise making him laugh lowly again. 
“What? Does that shock you? That I found her boring?” He questions, eyebrow raised, “Why would perfection be interesting?” 
Your eyes search his face as he shifts, kneeling rather than crouching. A little glimmer of pride sparks to life within you as he kisses you again, your lips moving against his frantically, mewling when he pushes his tongue into your mouth and nips at your bottom lip. 
“I never got to train her,” he breathes against your lips, grunting at the way your hands skim over his chest and stomach, grabbing at him so frantically, “I hardly got to punish her; if I gave her an order, she would follow it blindly – it made her predictable, it made her boring.”
“N-Not like me?” You whisper hopefully, meeting his gaze through half-lidded eyes as you pant, your chest pressed tightly to his. 
“No, sweet pet, not like you,” Ramsay smiles, making your heart sing as it leaps beneath your ribs, “I get to train you, don’t I? And punish you when that little puppy brain can’t follow the simplest of orders.”
You should be offended, should feel mocked and belittled, but you don’t. Instead, you nod your head eagerly, preening like a proud little bird at his praise, because that’s what is, really. Ramsay will never be one to sing your praises softly like other men, but he admires you all the same. 
Before you have time to reply, he grabs at your waist and abruptly maneuvers you, manhandling you until you’re poised on your hands and knees, cheek pressed firmly against the fur rug beneath you. 
“I get to play with you, pet,” he drawls lowly, pressing a hand into the small of your back and grunting appreciatively when you arch down like he wants, licking his lips as your cunt finally comes into view, shining already in the low candlelight. He smirks at the way you moan when he presses his hard length against you, grinding against your slit, chest heaving at how warm you are even through his trousers, “Don’t I?”
“Yes!” You nod eagerly, pressing back against him like a wanton whore, nearly dizzy with need when his fingers bump against you as he quickly undoes the laces on his pants, “Yes, yes, yes, please!”
“Ohh, so you can be good, hm?” He teases, groaning in relief when he pushes his trousers down just enough to free his cock, too impatient to remove them entirely, “Seems my training’s working nicely.”
Mindlessly, you nod, willing to agree with whatever he says so long as he gets inside you.
Mercifully, you don’t have to wait long. A loud cry fills your chambers as he presses into you, the slight sting of his thick cock stretching you open making you shiver, a familiar sensation since he was rarely ever patient enough to work you open on his fingers. 
Immediately, he sets a brutal pace, his hips pressing against yours tightly each time he pushes forward, the head of his cock nearly kissing your cervix with each harsh thrust. Your cunt clenches at him greedily and your hands scramble against the rug beneath you, fingers tangling into the furs, desperate for something to anchor yourself. 
“Fuck, tight little cunt,” Ramsay grunts harshly above you, his hands gripping meanly at your hips, hard enough to leave bruises. 
“R-Ramsay, fuck… fuck,” you whimper beneath him, your eyes squeezed shut tightly as the knot in your belly threatens to unravel, your walls pulsing rhythmically around his length each time it spears into you.
He chuckles breathlessly at your little murmurs and runs a hand up the length of your back before grabbing at the hair at the nape of your neck, relishing the little cry you give as he pulls you up until your back is pressed firmly against his chest. “Are you close already?” He mocks smugly, his fingers untangling from your hair to wrap once more around your throat as his other paws at your breasts, his fingers pinching and pulling at your nipples. 
You swallow thickly, throat bobbing under his grip, and nod your head the best you can, grabbing at his thick forearm. 
“Do you think I’m going to let you?” He teases, biting harshly at your shoulder as his hips keep up a punishing rhythm.
You nearly sob at the question, so desperate, but still you shake your head, cunt pulsing around his length. “No, n-no…” You moan mournfully, voice hoarse from his hold. 
He chuckles behind you, his chest rumbling against your back as he kisses and bites at your earlobe, your shoulder, any part of your neck not covered by his hand, each touch driving you mad. “Finally, that little brain seems to be working,” he grunts, laughing lowly as he abandons your breasts long enough to slap your cheek, blessedly soft this time, “I’m having too much fun playing with you to let you go that easily,” He drawls, chuckling once more when you whine. 
“In fact,” he continues, reaching down and rubbing his fingers roughly against your aching bud, just enough to make you cry out before he suddenly pulls away again, tugging his length from you as he lets you flop to the floor with a little grunt, “I want to see you do a trick,” he whispers, rubbing over your ass before smack it roughly, making you jump, “Roll over.”
“Wha –” You start to question, only to be cut off with a loud cry as his hand spanks you once more.
“Be a good fucking puppy and roll over.”
His order leaves no room for questioning and obediently, you listen and roll over onto your back with a little whimper. You keep your legs bent up when you settle, keeping yourself on display for him, clenching around nothing as you eye his hard cock bobbing against his stomach, the tip red and leaking. 
“Good little pet,” he praises, his words going straight to your pearl as you shudder. Hastily, he pushes your legs up further, one hand holding you open as he presses his cock back into you, savoring your loud whine, the way your eyes roll to the back of your head.
He resumes his harsh pace, slamming into you as he chases his high now, blue eyes trailing appreciatively over your trembling body, watching as your breasts bounce with each unforgiving thrust he gives. 
“Please, please, Gods, please!” You whine frantically as he presses his hips against yours, grinding into you, the thatch of hair at the base of his cock rubbing against your bud perfectly, “Ramsay, p-please! I – fuck!”
He laughs breathlessly at your cries and leans down when you arch your back toward him, mouthing savagely at your chest, teeth nipping at the fat of your breasts before he licks over your nipples. He knows each touch is only driving you closer and closer to your release, yet he still doesn’t give you permission, a part of him meanly hopes you’ll slip over anyway and give him another reason to punish you, like he actually needs a reason. 
Still, you have been good today and he does love how willing and docile you become when you peak, so malleable – entirely submissive, entirely his. 
He bites and kisses his way up along your chest and neck before licking into your mouth for a moment, eagerly swallowing each desperate little cry before grabbing at your neck once more. Greedy, he turns your head to him, needing to see that empty-headed, hazy look in your eyes when he lets you finish.
His cock jerks at the sight of you, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes as you try desperately to hold off, cheeks flushed, reddened lips parted. He grunts, feeling his balls tighten, his thrusts beginning to lose their rhythm. 
“Cum, puppy,” he growls, forehead pressed against yours.
Your lips part in a silent curse as your high slams into you, each muscle in your body contracting at once. Your eyes bore into his wildly as your cunt spasms tightly around his cock, eyes rolling back as he fucks you through it.
“Fuck!” He grunts, growling lowly as his cock spasms within you, your walls all but milking his own high from him as well. His hips slam into you a few more times before he stills, gasping as he fills you with his spend. 
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The two of you lay together for a moment, panting loudly against one another. Ramsay is the first to move, shushing you as he pulls his softening length from you, making you whine. 
Distantly, a part of you twists gleefully when you feel his seed drip from you, another thing he never dared do with her. 
“Here,” he says softly, offering you a hand, which you gladly take, letting him help you stand since you doubt you’d be able to on your own. Finally, you stand on your feet, albeit unsteadily, and grab onto the foot of the carved wooden bedframe to steady yourself. Strangely, he stays with you, neither of you saying anything as he holds you, blue eyes studying you as they gleam with some unknown emotion. 
After a moment, you try to pull away, meaning to leave as you always do, not one to wait around for his order anymore. 
“Stop,” he murmurs, only pulling away once you still, “Stay.” He orders, an unfamiliar softness to his voice. Your head reels, eyes staring unfocused as you try to make sense of… whatever this is, whatever his game may be now. 
He returns quickly enough, a damp cloth in his and from the small wash basin he keeps on the vanity. You reach out to grab it, to clean yourself off like you assume he wants, and yet he stops you, holding the cloth out of your grasp until you lower your hand again. 
“Obedient puppies get rewards,” he says softly, all of the harshness from before absent from his tone as he answers your silent questions. You nearly freeze when he presses one small, gentle kiss against your forehead. Finally, he makes quick work of wiping between your legs, taking care to wipe away any of his spend that leaked from you. 
“Thank you…” You nearly whisper, voice scratchy from his earlier treatment. That doesn’t feel like the right thing to say but if it isn’t, he doesn't say. 
Silently, he cups your chin, lifting it enough to give him room to check your neck, trailing his hand over it lightly until he must be satisfied that you’re okay, that he hadn’t treated you too badly. 
Kind, even still.
A few moments later, you recline in the plush bed, watching as he kicks off his boots before joining you, lying with you under the soft blankets. This part, at least, you’re used to – lying together like this but not touching, not cuddling, that’s too intimate, too close. 
He hadn’t said that, wouldn’t say that, but you knew. 
A surprised little gasp leaves you when he pulls you close, hands, clean now that he’d taken a moment to wash them, resting on you gently. One smoothes up and down your arm as he lets you lay against his chest, cheek pressed against his collarbone, his chin resting on your head; the other grabs at your thigh, pulling you to him until you’re tucked into his side, one leg propped over his hips. 
“You did well,” he says softly, chest vibrating under your cheek as he speaks, “With your training, I mean. You did well. I’m… proud of you.”
“Thank you.” 
The two of you are silent after that, neither of you knowing how to handle this new territory that you seem to be spilling into, but you don’t care, not with your heart pounding quickly in your chest. You’d think you were dying if it weren’t for the savage sense of victory threading through every inch of you. 
Proud, proud, proud! The word echoes in your head with each pump of blood through your heart. It was so small, the barest of compliments, but from Ramsay it meant the world. It was something he’d said to you, only you, never to her, not once. Never to anyone else. 
His chest rises and falls under your cheek, breath steady and even. He always falls asleep quickly, normally you do too. But not this time, not tonight, not wanting to let this moment fade just yet. 
He loves you, in his way.
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churipu · 6 months
Note
Hi! ☺️ First and foremost, I hope you're doing well. Also, I just recently found your page and I love your writing!
I really liked your post on the super sensitive reader with the jjk men. Can I get headcanons of the jjk men with reader who is very stoic and a little emotionally constipated? Like they have never seen reader cry ever while in their relationship together, but then reader ends up having a hard week and ends up crying from frustration.
jjk men & their emotionally constipated partner
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featuring. shiu kong, itadori yuuji, todo aoi, geto suguru x reader
warnings. cursing and jjk men being sweet and soft to their partner <;33
note. hi anon! i'm doing great, hbu love? thank you for liking my works, you don't know how much that means to me, i hope you have a great day! and thank you for requesting, i find this request very interesting <33 also, thank you guys for the big amount of support i've been receiving for the last two days, can you imagine i gained like 140+ followers in that matter of time? i'm going to start violently sobbing istg. anw, i hope u sexies enjoy this <33
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SHIU KONG. shiu loves you a lot, even if you struggle in showing the love back to him, he knows you love him a lot. shiu would receive random messages (mostly a picture of something and then you tell him that it reminded you of him, probably deemed as your love language now). i feel like shiu is partly happy that you don't take things into the heart - but at times he'd be very worried about you. you never cry, you almost never get angry at him even if he did something wrong (you'd just tell him it's nothing and you weren't mad, but he sometimes think it's because you didn't want to engage yourself in arguments), and hell, he barely sees you smile at all.
shiu has heard you tell stories about your new work place, which you quote unquote as toxic. and you've been in the company for no longer than three months, but the stories about your very annoying co-worker and your boss never stops. he swore that the topic of your work place was the only thing that could get you riled up.
i feel like shiu would be the type of boyfriend who would tell you to stop working because he's financially stable enough to provide for you, but you decline telling him that you didn't want to live off of him.
shiu didn't force you to stop or quit your job though, he'd be glad to listen to you talk about your days at work.
"y/n? you're ho— darling, what happened?" he saw the solemn look on your face and realized that something must have happened (yet again) at your work place, he dropped the cigar that was lodged in between his lips and immediately approached you.
you shook your head, inhaling sharply before kicking off your shoes, "work, of course."
"is it your boss? or that same co-worker again?" shiu knew that it was either your boss or this one co-worker who doesn't seem to enjoy your presence in the office.
"both." you sat down on the couch, throwing your head back in exhaustion (you were about to cry and the only way to stop your tears from coming out was to just force it back in with your head back), "i'm getting my paycheck reduced this month."
shiu took a seat next to you, "why?"
"i was blamed for something my co-worker did, this is so unfair," your voice cracked a little and shiu pulled you into a hug, you choked out a sob, "this is so unfair," you muttered out, your pent out anger and disappointment finally seeping out in a form of tears.
"hey, shh..." he soothes you, pulling back to see your tearful eyes. he grazed over your cheek to wipe the droplets away, "let me take care of them, yeah?"
you shook your head, "don't have to, i don't want to make this into a bigger mess."
shiu planted a kiss on your forehead, "don't worry about it darling, you trust me, don't you?"
"yes."
shiu had a "talk" with your boss and your co-worker the very next day and your co-worker ended up resigning right after, and your boss, well they never bothered you anymore (and you're getting an extra paycheck for the next half a year).
ITADORI YUUJI. people always wonder how you and itadori ended up with each other. him being this ray of sunshine, and you were like the moon. but he didn't care about what everyone says, he loves you — and that's what matter, right?
wrong. don't think that you didn't notice the enormous shit talking about you behind your back, about how you probably bribed itadori into dating you and what not. usually, you'd shove all those down the drain and forget about it.
but for some reason, you couldn't help but to rethink about what they said. how itadori isn't too fit for you, or how you don't deserve him at all. the only thing that managed to trigger you was how somebody said that itadori deserves someone more "emotionally available" for him, and that person isn't you.
you never liked being emotionally constipated, people always talk about you behind your back, saying how you're so distant and that being the reason you don't have any friends. you keep telling yourself that you're used to it when it comes to you, but when it comes to itadori and your relationship — you feel helpless.
"y/n? are you okay?"
you looked up at him, a glint of worry flashing in his eyes. and you can't help but to feel the frustration building in you as you remember the words people say to you, "yes..no? i don't kno—" you choked out, smacking your hand on top of your mouth at the sound you let out.
it just got worse when you feel the tears you've been penting up for the past few weeks come out. itadori blinked feverishly, a little surprised to see you crying like this. he has never seen you cry before, "y/n..?" he breathes out, his hand reaching out to you, but you moved back, trying to avoid his touch.
the embarrassment you felt was horrid, you hated crying in front of people, even your own boyfriend, "baby," itadori mutters out seriously, grabbing your arms and then pulling them away from your face, "tell me what's wrong. talk to me."
i feel like he knew where this was going, he had a hunch. for the past few weeks, you asked him about why he was with you, why he loves you when there were better people out there (you think). and he knew it was because of what people said.
"i...i just don't think i'm the right one for you, yuuji. they're right, you need a more emotionally available partner."
itadori's face fell when you said that, and he shook his head, pulling you into his embrace. rocking back and forth like a baby, "why would you say that? why would you listen to them y/n?" he asks quietly.
"i...don't know."
he pulled away, brows furrowed and he held your shoulders, "you're perfect for me, i don't give a fuck what they said about you and i. the next time someone says something, i'm going to beat them up," the thing is, he looked so serious you couldn't help but to chuckle.
"you just chuckled.." he breathes out, "my life is complete."
TODO AOI. he's very boisterous, and i feel like he'd be the type of person who would defend his partner everywhere they go. when you accepted his feelings, he was surprised since he never expected you to like someone like him. but he was pretty damn proud of you, and as a boyfriend, he shows you off like a trophy.
telling people about how amazing you are, how you make him happy, or how you treat him nicely. but people are fucking judgmental, some of them don't like the idea of others living happily — and you never thought that "these" particular people would target you next for it.
saying how fucking weird todo is for liking someone like you, and you had to be honest, it did get into you. and so began your avoidance to your own boyfriend, todo.
he hates it. he hated how you changed out of the blue, no matter how hard he tries to reach out for you, you weren't the same anymore and he never got why you decided to change.
believe me when i say that he tried asking his friends about it, or about tips to get you to talk to him. but really, they weren't much of a help, saying how you probably got bored and is avoiding him so he would be the one to break up first with you.
todo didn't want to let the idea of that get into him, but after a few weeks of you avoiding him non-stop, he began thinking the same thing. were you bored of him? did he do something that you didn't like? or is it because he ate the last chocolate chip cookie you were saving up and blamed it on someone else?
so when he got the chance to bump into you, he immediately took it as a chance to ask you about it.
"why are you avoiding me?" you tried ending the conversation right away by going the other way, but man is fast fast so he didn't let you — still wanting to know about the sudden change in your behavior.
todo knows how you didn't like being cornered, or how you don't like talking about the relationship, sappy shit. but if he didn't talk to you about this, todo knew he was going to regret it.
"y/n," he grabbed the back of your collar, pulling you back lightly, "did i do something wrong?"
you were silent for a few seconds before todo's ears perked up at the sound of soft, choked out sobs. you were crying. you were crying. and the panic sinks in, "i..i'm sorry, did i pull on your collar too hard?!" he panics, flailing his arms.
you shook your head, "...no, i'm sorry for avoiding you."
todo stopped his panicking and stood up straight, "i couldn't stop thinking about what people have to say about us, and now that i think about it, i feel like you deserve more than me," todo widened his eyes and looked around.
"who the fuck said that? i'm going to beat them up so bad people won't recognize them," todo mutters out and the corner of your lips tugged upward, "is that why you're avoiding me?"
you nod, "it was wrong. i know i should've said something about it. i'm sorry for avoiding you."
todo laid his hand on top of your head, brushing your h/c softly with a gentle smile, "you're perfect for me, fuck those people," he cusses out, "next time you hear em', don't forget to find out their names— i'm going to give them a lesson for it."
SUGURU GETO. suguru and you are like two peas in a pod. people never see him without you and vice versa, and often people would say that you both are the perfect couple. despite your personalities almost being the same type of calm, suguru is a calm man, and he's soft spoken. while you were just plain cold and stoic, rarely speak of something or even show your emotions.
someone bothering you? okay. someone making fun of you? okay. you were practically a walking definition of "i give zero fucks". but that doesn't mean you can't feel hurt, you are still human after all.
so when suguru told you about how he has a new co-worker, and how she has been clinging onto him, how she tries to get in his pants. you find it cute how he tells you about it, even telling you that you should come to his workplace so he could show you off.
you didn't feel anything because you trusted him. until you see the so called "co-worker" of his. she's pretty, you can't deny that. and you could see how she gets along with almost everyone, having no problem in instigating a conversation or complimenting people. people definitely like her.
that's where the insecurity began sinking in.
would suguru fall for her like everyone in his workplace does? would he leave you for her? so many questions you wanted to find the answer to.
"baby?"
you look at him, completely out of your daydream. he cocks his head to the side, "are you okay? you've been zoning out a lot lately..." he said, voice gentle and worried.
you nodded, "yeah. sorry. got a lot in my mind."
"do you want to talk about it?" he brushes a few h/c strands from covering your face, "you've been a little distant. is it something that i did, baby?"
god, just the thought of suguru thinking it was him made you a little sensitive. the past few weeks was already hard enough for you to contain yourself from breaking down, and him asking that made the tears you held in for so long drop out all at once.
suguru was a little taken aback and he sat straight up, alarmed, "y/n? baby? what's wrong?" he asks you gently, wiping the tears that never ceased from your face.
"i feel..i feel like i'm not enough. you deserve better than me, suguru." suguru swallowed the lump in his throat, he should've known, ever since you came to his workplace, you had started getting distant. and he should've known that was the reason.
suguru shook his head, cupping your face before giving you soft little kisses all over your face, "don't" a kiss on your forehead. "you" a kiss on your left cheek. "dare" a kiss on your right cheek. "say" a kiss on your nose. "that" a kiss on your chin.
the male gazes into your eyes deeply, "i love you," he softly said before planting a kiss on your lips, "you're the one i want, you're perfect for me. i can't see my future without you y/n, so please don't think about that..."
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heartfullofleeches · 4 months
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Femboy slasher Yandere and Darling is giving me brain rot SO BADLY RN. Okay so what if yandere is a playboy, luring in his victims using his oh so perfectly hot body. One day, he goes out late at night to a bar and finds Darling hooking up with some guy. He plans on killing the both of them, but loses them in the crowd. When he finds them again, Darling is gutting the fool who thought that they would ever touch scum like him, and yandere can't help but plan their wedding.
(This could kinda go with what I had in mind so I hope you don't mind me merging the two- Mentions of Murder/Death)
Femboy Slasher Yan + Femboy Murder-Streamer Slasher Darling-
"Looking for some fun?~ Two cuties seeking third partner to celebrate their anniversary with. Location and pictures provided after a few questions. See you soon ;)"
" "You're making this way too easy, love. People might get suspicious."
"Whaaat? No way - ugh, this blows. I wish we could go to our usual spot, but there's too much attention around that area after that last guy you picked...."
"He was being too sweet with you - he had to die...."
"All he did was give me a free drink - on my birthday!"
Yan's Darling is so weird. Instead of movies of grabbing a bite to eat, Darling has a different idea of what the perfect date night is. They're lucky they're so damn cute in red-
Derailing from your ask a little, Yan actually never murdered anyone before he met darling. Robbed them blind and maybe left a few in the hospital, but he never killed anyone far as he knew or cared. He used his looks to lure people in and take everything from them once they were under his spell. One day, he catches word of another cute face frequenting bars and other places Yan chose as his place of business. He couldn't have that. Eventually, Yan locates Darling on the same night Darling is luring some drunk guy behind some dumpsters. Yan heads over, hoping to catch some blackmail he could used to get Darling off his turf, but what he saw behind those dumpsters was not what he was especially to see."
"Hey gang~ Oops, looks like someone's finally feeling the effects of the medicine I put in his drink. We'll have to cut this stream a little short tonight."
Yan watches as the person behind the dumpsters slits the man's throat - blood mixing with white foam bubbling from his lips. The person looks almost identical to the boy Yan had seen early, but now he's wearing some weird make. It doesn't take long for darling to notice Yan. Instead of rushing him, Darling reaches into the man's pocket and pulls out his wallet - throwing it at the other male.
"That's what you wanted, right? I've seen you around here before, but I thought you'd be good bait to lead the police off my scent when this guy here was found... Wanna be friends?"
Yan should run. He should scream - yell for help, but the way Darling is so carefree and nonchalant about their crimes..... It's the hottest thing he's ever witnessed.
Darling tells Yan all about their life. Killing people has always been more of a hobby to them, but somehow they found a community of freaks who'd pay hundreds to see a cute boy like them crack someone's skull open. Better than being stuck as at crappy cashier job in their book. Their first manager would have been their first victim had he not passed away in an accident the same week Darling planned to butcher him.
Darling and Yan quickly come to the agreement that if Yan lures people away, Darling will do the deed. Yan develops more of a crush on darling seeing how much pleasure and glee comes from killing for rhem. Yan is approached by someone who's cautious of their new friend and warns Yan about them. Yan kills their acquaintance in a fit of rage after they express their plans on telling the police about Darling. Yan realizes he hasn't been entirely in it for the money and has developed feelings for Darlings. Feelings he'll protect in any way necessary. Darling is so proud of him. They give him their favorite knife as part of his promotion to becoming their partner. The two become a team who passionately kiss in between disemboweling the poor fool who was stupid enough to answer their online ad.
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wileys-russo · 1 month
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hi! laura freigang, 'can i use a picture of you as my phone's background?', locker room please?
lockscreen II l.freigang
you woke up to a flash in your face, ducking your head beneath the covers with a groan. "go away lau!" you moaned kicking out at your best friend who only grinned, tugging the covers away from you.
"it was for the collection!" laura explained as if that was completely normal as you tiredly glared up at her. "get out of my room, its not even eight yet!" you realised with a groan, shoving her a little harder than intended as she went rolling backwards off the bed.
you sat up with a start, covering your grin with your hand as the blonde moaned clutching her head which had collided with the carpet.
"sorry?" you tried with an innocent smile as she sat up and fixed you with a venomous glare. "idiot!" she huffed unappreciative of your efforts. "in my defense i have warned you before about not waking me before nine unless its an emergency." you reminded with a shrug.
"i was waking you because i made breakfast but now i think i will go give it to that cranky lady next door, she would be more appreciative!" the blonde grumbled standing to her feet with a shake of her head, stretching out her back.
"no no, no need! thank you." you shot up from bed, kissing her cheek in thanks before racing off toward the kitchen too fast to see the way the girls face burned beetroot red at the tiny gesture of affection.
laura had been pining over you for months now, and it was painful that it was obvious to absolutely everyone but you, even her teammates teasings only causing you to roll your eyes and dismiss them with a wave when they joked you were secretly dating.
laura could only wish to be so lucky, and only wish you'd finally see that all the little things she did for you was because she was crushing on you hard.
ever since you'd moved to the club the girl felt her knees wobble a little when you were introduced to the team, the first to put her hand up to show you around and within a couple of weeks the two of you were thick as thieves and laura had offered you her spare room while you hunted for a place of your own.
it was an offer which beat the pull out sofa you were currently sleeping on in an old school friends one bedroom loft who'd moved to germany for university and just never come back.
you'd be lying if you said without laura you'd have lost your mind and probably quit to move back home. she helped you set up everything, get better at the language, offered friendship and a comfortable bed beneath your back, cooked everyday for you and showed you around new places each weekend between matches.
you hadn't realized it just yet but you were also crushing hard on the blonde, only you'd grown up with four older brothers and attributed nearly every strong feeling you had toward a woman as just a longing for friendship.
it was idiotic how blind you were really.
"so." you looked up from your spot at your cubby, training finished for the day as you were icing your ankle you'd rolled, most of the team having already left for the day laura was kindly waiting around until the physio came back to check you over, currently in a meeting.
"as you know i've been making my phone look nicer." laura started as you chuckled, amused by her sudden interest in aesthetics which was spurred on by a late night tiktok doom scroll as you lay together 'hanging out' in complete silence in her room the other night.
"i found a lockscreen-" she turned to show you a photo she'd taken at the markets on one of her film cameras, smiling at the familiar setting. "-but, can i use a photo of you as my phone background?" she asked hopefully as you groaned.
"what!" she huffed, a little offended by your reaction. "not if its one of those awful pictures you always take of me sleeping, or eating, or at that gross zoomed out angle but super close and-" you started to protest making her frown switch to a grin.
"no schatz, not a bad photo." she patted your knee reassuringly, sliding closer to you as your head fell to her shoulder, missing the way she tensed up a little, clearing her throat.
"i have nice ones. i will even let you choose!" laura promised as you hummed and she clicked into her camera roll, selecting an album with a little sun emoji.
"see? look these are all candid ones of you. at the farmers market, out at dinner, cooking at home, when we went to ikea, when we went to the night festival, getting coffee-" as she scrolled slowly through, something suddenly clicked in your mind.
in nearly all of these you and laura had been hanging out, but always just the two of you. you took turns paying for things, you were always laughing, she was always surprising you with little adventures or taking you to new places and forcing you out of your comfort zone.
but it was always just with laura, and then it clicked for you, it was laura, you loved laura.
the girl was too busy recounting the story behind one of the hundreds of photos in the album with a soft smile on her face to notice you pull your head away to look at her, finally seeing the slight blush on her cheeks and not missing the twinkle in her eye.
so maybe, just maybe, laura loved you too.
"lau." you interrupted, cutting her off mid sentence as she looked up and caught your eye, blush intensifying as she did. "was i rambling? oh god i was rambling wasn't i? i told you when that happens to snap me out of it or tell me to shut up or-" she started again making you smile.
"lau?" "yeah?" "shut up." you grinned as she did too, tips of her ears flushed pink which you found quite cute, suddenly now noticing a lot of little features you'd taken for granted.
"do you trust me?" you asked softly and the blonde nodded without a moments hesitation, but in her most wild of dreams she'd never expected what came next as your hand moved to settle on the back of her neck and you leaned in until you were barely a hairsbreadth away.
"is this okay?" you whispered, checking one last time as all the german could do was nod, dumbfounded and unsure if this was actually happening until you leaned in just that tiny bit further and pressed your lips to hers.
this was really happening, and as laura dropped her phone into her lap, tugging you even closer and kissing you back like you were her last breath of air, you realised that yeah, your laura did love you back, and this was the start of a brand new adventure together.
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woso-dreamzzz · 5 months
Text
Pregnant II
Hardersson x Baby!Reader
Part of The Big Adventures Universe
Summary: Pernille's pregnancy
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During the first month, you're about the size of a poppy seed.
Pernille's fine on her own during this period. She has a little bit of spotting and feels a bit more tired than usual but she's mainly okay. Since the announcement, her teammates have been more careful on the pitch with her.
Everyone knows that the risk of miscarrying is higher before the third month so they all take care not to knock into her as much or, at least, to not hit her head on.
Magda, it seems, is the only one completely stressed out of her mind. She sends regular texts to check in with Pernille. She calls every day (once in the morning and once in the evening).
If she didn't have commitments in England then Pernille's sure that Magda would have flown over daily.
By the second month, you're the size of a kidney bean.
The symptoms have gotten a little worse by now. The tiredness has been replaced by sore breasts and the spotting by morning sickness. It's still manageable and Pernille doesn't even think to tell Magda until she misses a morning call in favour of hunching over the toilet and spewing out her guts.
"Her heart's developing now," Magda's voice comes through the phone, echoing around the tiled walls of Pernille's bathroom," And her brain too. Do you think she'll be smart? I think she'll be smart."
"We don't know if it's a girl yet, Magda," Pernille says. She's still leaning against the toilet but Magda's voice is safe and soothing.
"I know it's a girl," Magda replies, an air of finality in her tone," A little Pernille."
"She's your egg. She'll be a little Magda."
Pernille can hear the smile in Magda's voice as she replies," I made you admit she's a girl."
At the end of month three, you're the same size as a lime.
The morning sickness is extremely bad now and Magda even flies out when she hears from Nilla that Pernille had thrown up on the side of the pitch one morning.
"This brings back memories," Magda quips as she holds Pernille's hair back.
"Of what?"
"Crazy parties in our youth."
"We're still young, Magda. Becoming parents doesn't automatically make us old," Pernille sits up and takes the washcloth from her partner.
"Yeah, but we're more mature now. No more crazy parties and throwing up."
"None recently," Pernille corrects. She smiles for a moment before hunching over the toilet bowl again.
Magda rubs her back. "I've taken a few weeks off," She says," You keep getting sick."
"Magda-"
"No, I've already made my decision. International break is soon anyway. Our next match isn't too difficult. They don't really need me."
Pernille can't find it in herself to argue about it much, with the way that she sags against the wall and stays within arm's length of the toilet.
Magda kisses her stomach. "You're making your Momma sick," She says," You've got to leave her alone. You're still growing in there."
At month four, you're around the size of an avocado.
The morning sickness has stopped completely now but the soreness in her breasts doesn't subside at all.
It's completely coincidental when, one evening as she's changing her shirt, Pernille catches the sight of herself in the mirror.
She's got a baby bump now.
Instantly, her hand goes to touch it, as if she could feel exactly where you are.
She takes a picture and sends it to Magda.
She can see that it's been read but Magda doesn't reply for hours until finally...
MAGDA ❤️ you look so beautiful that's my new lockscreen
It's month five. You're the same length as a banana.
She could have found out earlier but Pernille waits until Magda can make the trip to find out your gender.
"A girl." Magda is still convinced as they sit in the waiting room, her hand stroking over Pernille's knuckles. "I know she's a girl."
"We'll see."
Pernille feels a bit vindictive so has the doctor write your gender on a scrap of paper, folds it up and hands it to Frido (who has come to visit).
"Huh?" Frido says as she looks down at the scunched-up ball of paper.
"You're in charge of that," Pernille says," Magda doesn't see it, she doesn't take it before the gender reveal."
"You guys are planning a gender reveal?"
Pernille shakes her head. "No. You are."
By month six, you're as big as an ear of corn.
You move around a lot now and Pernille never forgets the look on Magda's face when, one evening, Pernille grasps her hand and places it over her swollen stomach.
You kick almost every day and Pernille rubs her stomach softly as Frido hands her and Magda a knife.
"I bought cake," Frido proclaims," Because this is a celebration and you can't go wrong with cake."
Someone (Pernille's not sure who) on the Wolfsburg team rolls it out.
"If it's blue, it's a boy. If it's pink, it's a girl," Frido explains even though it really didn't need explaining. She's taking her role as future moster very seriously and it's slightly amusing.
"It'll be pink," Magda says," I know it will."
Frido rolls her eyes. "Then cut it. But...just wait until the camera's on. Okay! Ready? Ready!"
Magda's hand is warm around Pernille's, who is holding the knife in her own. They make two cuts into the cake, one after the other, and then pull out the slice.
"A girl," Pernille says softly, smiling as her team celebrates around her. She looks up at Magda, whose eyes are glistening with unshed tears.
"A girl."
Month seven and the only thing different is now you're the size of a large aubergine.
Her doctor has said that you can hear now so she spends countless nights with a pair of headphones on her stomach, playing voice notes Magda has sent throughout the day for you.
It's amusing. They're mostly nonsense, Magda just talking about her day and all the things she looks forward to doing with you but it's incredibly sweet and Pernille ends up crying every time.
Month eight comes around and now you're the same size as a cabbage.
Pernille's back aches more than ever and you enjoy sitting on her bladder so she has to take a bathroom break more often.
The highlight of the month comes when Magda comes over and lifts her bump, allowing Pernille to sag against her and feel slightly weightless for a little bit.
At month nine, you're the same as a head of lettuce.
She and Magda have been arguing over names for months now. There's a list pinned to the fridge and each of them takes a lot of pride in crossing out the other's suggestions in healthy competition.
Your last name is still up for debate too, as is your middle (but, somehow, Frido's gotten in on that action and has been texting Pernille suggestions for weeks now).
Pernille's having trouble getting to sleep too and you get more active than before. Rather than kicking though, it's your little fists thumping against her stomach (something that, many years in the future, she will tell Zećira was you foreshadowing).
Her doctor told her it was normal but it's still a bit disconcerting to see the tiny imprints of your even tinier fingers poking from the inside out.
By month ten (and Pernille hates that she's been lied to and pregnancy does not, in fact, end in the ninth month), you're the same size as a pumpkin.
She feels ready to pop but restless at the same time.
Magda's meant to be flying out later today but Pernille is in desperate need of some fresh air so she pulls on some clothes and gets herself ready to head to the Wolfsburg grounds.
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luveline · 10 months
Note
Ok Derek angst what about a non-bau gf getting jealous of his flirting with Garcia? Bc ngl if my bf did that with a girl who I hadn’t met I would be super upset and then May be his gf meets Garcia and realizes she’s a girls girl and super sweet? Idk u can take it any direction
ty for your request ♡ fem!reader
You don't want anything to do with Penelope Garcia. Honestly, you wouldn't ever meet her if you had your way, but you're level-headed enough to know that she's important to Derek. Integral to his life. It's a miracle you put off meeting her as long as you had. 
At first, you genuinely thought she was Derek's mom. He always ended calls with, "Love you, mama." It was only a few weeks ago when he shook things up to say, "I love you, babygirl," did you look up from the book on your thigh to ask who it was.
"Penelope," he'd said, like he was confused. "Who'd you think?" 
You shrugged noncommittal, earning yourself a hair pet and a kiss. You lay awake that night wondering if you got it wrong. You'd heard a hundred stories about her and felt reluctantly fond, but now? Your boyfriend calls other girls pet names, what do you do about that? What can you? 
You ignored it. And now you have to meet her. 
She doesn't seem as nefarious as you've imagined her, springing from her seat at the cafe table to hug you. "Hi! Oh my god hi! I can't believe I'm finally meeting you, I've never been this happy in my life! You're so pretty!" 
You wince at her arms thrown over your shoulders but reciprocate. You aren't a total bitch.
"Thank you," you say. She smells like coffee creamer and hairspray. She pulls away to beam at you, her lips painted a shiny, pretty red. "It's nice to meet you. Derek has nothing but good things to say about you."
It sounds awfully formal, like you're opening a bank account with a teller who has a shared acquaintance. Derek gives you a look. You give him a look back, mutual confusion. She may be his best friend, but you don't know her (and what you do know you're jealous of, so). 
Derek takes your hand despite your off behaviour to show you off with pride, his teeth peeking from behind his lips milky white. "My two favourite girls had to meet eventually."
"I thought I'd be more jealous about coming second," Penelope says, eyes twinkling, "but I've never seen Derek so happy." Her voice turns scratchy like stretched linen. "He deserves the best, you know? And it's clear you're it. He's smitten."
"Maybe don't give up all my secrets, sweetheart," he says. 
Seeing them together chills your raging envy. There's a lot of love there, clearly, but the sexual tension you pictured is fictional. "Girl code, my love,'' Penelope says with a shrug. She winks at you. 
Insecurity nags at your skin like condensation on a cold window, "You've known Derek for nearly six years? Have you guys always been this close?" 
"Well, mister muscles here didn't bother remembering my name for the first couple of weeks that we worked together, so he deferred to pet names. And, you know, he's him," —Penelope gestures to him as if to say, behold, drawing a startled laugh from you— "and I'm me, so. I didn't want him to stop." 
"Hey, now." 
Penelope shakes her head at you. "He always does this." 
"If 'this' is stopping you from talking bad on yourself, babygirl, then yeah. I'll always do it." 
You feel clarity break, the sweet taste of relief and the muggier lick of shame. Derek and Penelope have a special friendship. That you knew before meeting her. She's made a huge, irreplaceable impact on his life, and Derek has clearly done the same. They aren't playing work husband and wife —there are reasons for their affections that go well beyond the surface flirtation. 
"I get it. Nobody ever called me anything so nice as Derek calls me," you confide. Derek's eyebrows leap up. You've never told him this; you're telling Penelope as a sort of apology, though she can't know that. "I never got asked out growing up. When he asked me on a date I thought he was trying to win a bet." 
Penelope's expression flickers with relief. There and gone, quickly replaced by sympathy. "Are you kidding? You're so pretty, Derek's lucky he got to you before someone else did." 
Derek kisses your cheek. His lips linger against the apple of it, your joined hands pulled instinctively to his firm torso. You might be imagining it, but Derek seems to know everything, so he probably knows the hill you've just climbed in your head. "Damn straight I'm lucky. I'm surrounded by beautiful, genius women. This is paradise for the modern man." 
You flush at his touch and praise. Penelope makes a pleased squeak. "Ooh, you guys are cute! You need to let me take a photo. This'll make a great printout for your wedding."
"Penelope." 
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