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saintslewis · 1 month

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❝ 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐎𝐅𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐀 ❞

𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 | 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒

pairing: sir lewis hamilton x fem!oc - Nadia Hamilton

summary: a rainy day in the South of France has put you two closer than you would think.

warnings: outfit descriptions, cussing, suggestive gestures, pet names, links to visuals, a bit of smau (i’ll make a separate chapter for that 😭)

saint’s team radio 🎀: hey y’all, Nadia misses you guys! Sorry I took forever with this, it was a lot on my plate along with a whole lotta drafts that i made up 🧍🏽‍♀️ i love you guys 🥹 LEWDIA IS BACK!!!

renaissance: the masterlist • pots: social media

tags are down below! (let me know if you want to be tagged!)

fc: @/unclewaffles_ on ig!

pics are from ig and pinterest

It’s 8 am and Nadia couldn’t feel any lighter, a smile painted on her face as she descended down the stairs of her LA home.

Vanilla and cinnamon scented candles were lit around the living room along with the kitchen area, clean and ready for the amazing breakfast she was going to make for when Lewis woke up. The satin pyjamas smelled like his cologne and surprisingly, she felt refreshed after a wild night out with her friends.

Except it wasn’t 8 am on a Sunday morning.

“Are my earrings too loud?” Nadia exclaimed, holding her ears as she stood in front of Amara who was leaning on the Jeep she and Miles came in.

“What?” Amara slurred and giggled right after with her eyes barely open.

“You can’t hear them?” She shook her head, feeling her head sway much faster than it actually did.

Amara just laughed out loud at Nadia’s confusion. “Tinkerbell, they’re veeeeery quiet.” She managed to get her words out, her eyes barely open.

When Nadia is high, she’s a very special person. Her curiosity skyrockets and she can hold a conversation for hours about literally anything. How she got to this point was just 40 minutes before, she had asked for something sweet because she had a sour taste in her mouth and Amara just so happened to give her 2 edibles.

Miles had suggested that they all head home and the girls get some air from being the packed party. The Jeep luckily had an open roof for the cool air and the boys just watched the exchange between Nadia and Amara, laughing at almost everything they said.

“I really want pancakes. Oh! Pookie bear, can we make pancakes when we get home?” Nadia expressed her excitement when she thought of the idea although not knowing the time. All Lewis did was smile at the eager girl, holding onto his coat just in case she felt cold.

“Brotha, just as a me and you talk. How you feelin since Nadia came into your life?” Miles asked, crossing his arms as he watched the two women laugh at a bug on the window shield.

Taking a breath, Lewis began. “It’s been fun having someone around, I won’t lie. She had a whole life before me and I feel guilty watching her change her life around to help me with my image. I think she sees this as a friendship and I wouldn’t put it past her to not. She’s a breath of fresh air.” He spoke.

“Just wanna point out you did not look at me the entire time you said all that.” Miles laughed, earning an eye roll from his friend. “But it is very nice to hear you speak about someone like this. Nads is a brilliant one, so I’ve heard from the grapevine.” The tall man nodded as he talked.

“The grapevine being Amara?” Lewis teased which earned him a push on the arm. “Shush. Anyways, she went to Cambridge then Oxford and she’s a teacher. If you fuck this up, Carl Davidson, you’ll be hearing from my lawyers.” Miles pointed at Lewis who just took everything in.

“Who knows? She could’ve had a line of people waiting for her but she wanted to help you out of the goodness of her heart, dealing with your stubborn ass. My point is me and the crew already love her and her personality so please.” He concluded, making the “i’m watching you” gesture and they both laughed.

“Let me go make those pancakes and I’ll let you know.” Lewis chuckled at the thought of making pancakes with Nadia at 11 pm, mere hours before they have to leave for Monaco.

Eventually getting the women into the car and them immediately requesting to play music and sing their hearts out, the group drove off into the nighttime and it wasn’t long until they reached the Los Angeles home.

“Bye Mars, bye fencer.” Nadia exclaimed, dragging out the last letter of their given nicknames. The jeep drove out of the large gates and the two walked to the front door with held hands, mainly to keep Nadia from tripping on her own two feet. Once in the house, Lewis could tell that she was about to head for the kitchen first but he held her hand much tighter which made her whine out.

“But the pancakes, Lew.” She whined as he pulled her in front of her. “I know, Nads. Let’s just take our shoes off before we go make them.” He smiled, watching as she leaned herself on the hallway wall with her eyes staring daggers into his.

“You’re no fun.” Nadia rolled her eyes but she could feel her body tingling as he continued to hold intense eye contact with her.

“Wanna repeat that?” Lewis smirked and she shook her head, feeling her high slip away a little as Nadia felt all the emotions.

Kneeling down, Lewis put his hand out to her legs so that she could get her slightly stained shoes off. With each antagonising minute that passed, she watched the man gently take her shoes off and neatly putting them next to the wall but what truly sat with her was how close he was to where her daydreams led her to.

“Thank you.” Nadia whispered out to him, watching him stand to his full height. “No problem, sweetie.” He winked and linked his hand with hers once again, seeing how gone she was, the plan of making pancakes out the window.

Going upstairs, reality started becoming clearer the closer she got to the top step. As nervous as she was, Nadia wanted something without her being the first one to make the first move. “Could you help me with my corset?” She blurted out, ignoring the butterflies flying around her stomach.

“Lead the way.” Lewis moved to the side to allow her to enter her room first. Thankful she left it clean, she slowly walked to the en suite bathroom with him following her closely behind. The mirror reflection showed him with his hands in his pockets, the coat long forgotten downstairs. Her breath hitched when she made eye contact with him through the mirror, her hands holding onto the edge of the bathroom counter.

To try and ignore the rising tension between them, Nadia played a little with her hair and Lewis took this as an opportunity to really drink her in. Every item she wore sat on her body so well, her jewellery shining representing her personality. He internally thanked the universe for bringing such a woman into his life, watching her fidget about and eventually finding a claw clip for the wig she wore.

Nadia raised her hands to attempt to take the jewels off but he reached out first, standing dangerously close to her and she could feel his fingers graze the back of her neck with goosebumps rising on her skin. It didn’t take long until Lewis gently placed the accessories on the marble counter and took a step back but she wished he stayed longer behind her, it felt all too right.

“You really shouldn’t look at people like that.” Nadia muttered, taking off her bracelets next. “So I shouldn’t appreciate my wife just existing?” Lewis smirked, his hands now behind his back.

“Said the same thing back at the party, white boy didn’t even know.” She smiled at the memory, deciding to take off her makeup before taking the corset off also just to keep Lewis in her company a little longer.

“Sweetie, he knew. Pretty sure he watched you for a while before he did that stunt.” He said, watching intently how she took her makeup off.

Scoffing a bit, she dragged the damp cotton ball across her eye. “Stunt? Dare I say you sound a lil jealous, Sir.” She chuckled. Lewis didn’t respond, he just kept his eyes on her and watched her try to shy away from the intense look he was giving her with a small smile on his face.

“You looked really good today.” He complimented. One thing Nadia didn’t want to show was how easy it was for her to fold at his words but she couldn’t help it. “Boy, you’re over here making me blush.” She gave him a smile through the mirror, appreciating the way their friendship was going.

Lewis shrugged. “Glad it was me and not that white boy.” He rolled his eyes and got a loud laugh out of her as she was dabbing her face with a small towel. “I knew you were jealous!”

“Yeah yeah.” Now it was his turn to shy away so that Nadia couldn’t see the growing smile on his face.

“Can you break down this upcoming week for me? I won’t hold you, I’m super nervous.” She asked, turning around to face him then leaning on the counter.

“We’ll be staying at home this week, first thing. Might get my hair done in time for Versace then the rest of the week is prep for the race weekend.” He spoke, scratching his head afterwards.

“I sent Tia some ideas for your outfit and she went ahead and got it, she said it’ll be in Monaco by the time we get there. She also said it’s hella bougie over there so I need to up my game this week.” Nadia said then nodded afterwards.

The two conversed about everything she could possibly expect from the Monaco Grand Prix weekend and how wild it could get. As promised, he had helped her with her corset clips and choosing to ignore that they could cut the tension with a knife.

They said good night to each other quite awkwardly before heading to bed.

Baby steps, Nadia thought.

iMessage!

The girlies 🫦

nads: i won’t lie to you guys, we had a moment

charlotte (not tilbury) : LEWDIA IS HAPPENING???

personal pillow amara: FINALLY also how are you not high out of your mind?

nataliaaaa: you got tinkerbell high?

charlotte (not tilbury): can we focus on the two lovebirds pls !!!

charlotte (not tilbury): you’re not off the hook amara 🤨

nads: my high disappeared SO QUICK but it felt so real, i blushed

nataliaaa: tink, i’m going to need you to STAND UP. it’s damn near 1 am ‼️

nads: sorry 😭 just wanted to update my girls but i’ll def tell you the deets in monaco if you guys are coming?

personal pillow amara: unfortunately i have work so i’ll miss so much iconic shit 😔

charlotte (not tilbury): oh no 😔 i’ll definitely fill up my phone storage for you mars x

nataliaaa: mars, we got you 🫵🏽. now let’s get some sleep before our flight!

three people liked this message!

(+44) 34 - *** - ****

yo nads, it’s cench

nadia: what do you want

central cee (unfort.): so me and dave are heading to mons this week for the race and what not

nadia: so what’s that got to do with me

central cee (unfort.): c’mon don’t be like that

nadia: girl wtf do you want

central cee (unfort.): we shootin that weekend so we had the brilliant plan that you could be in the vid 😁

nadia: bye cench, don’t annoy me this week. tell dave i said hi though

central cee (unfort.): nads 🧍🏽‍♂️

nadia: AHT AHT you lost the privilege to call me that after that little stunt you tried to pull in front of my boys

central cee (unfort.): it was for the beta squad vid

nadia: go talk to the wall. bye.

central cee (unfort.) has been blocked!

MONTE CARLO, MONACO

In Europe, it’s always raining somewhere and today, Mother Nature chose Monaco to spread her showers.

The pair had landed a few hours earlier, crashing into their beds after a quick penthouse tour which left Nadia speechless. A well deserved nap later, soft music played from the house speakers and vanilla scented incense wafted through the air while she looked through the kitchen for ingredients for pancakes, also making sure they hadn’t gone past the expiry date.

Although it was raining outside, it wasn’t as cold inside. Satisfied with how the first pancake came out, she continued pouring a bit of the batter into the pan. “Maybe I should melt some chocolate.” She muttered to herself, biting the edge of her nail while rotating the pan around.

Lewis couldn’t help but look at his wife in admiration once again, everything about her was endearing to him. He knew she was different from anyone he’d been with, despite the obvious that she wasn’t famous. He appreciated her showing her personality from the moment anyone meets her, the genuine feelings she expresses to everything and her support.

Not to mention her reactions to anything he buys for her, he loves the smile that spreads across her face when she sees something she likes and he wants to keep that smile there forever.

“It smells good in here, chef.” Lewis spoke, leaning on the kitchen counter and watched her prepare their pancakes. Nadia flinched at the sound of his voice, not expecting him to wake up anytime soon.

“You’re going to give me a heart attack one day, pookie.” Nadia said, pointing the spatula in his direction. Sliding the cooked pancakes in his direction for taste test, she continued making the others.

“I still wanna melt some chocolate so go right ahead and tell me what you think.” She informed, not realising that he had not once glanced at the food in front of him. “I’ll wait up for you to finish so that we can eat together.” Lewis spoke, going as far as to lean his head on his hand.

Turning to face him, she put her hand on her hip. “I wanna wash the dishes before I eat, it’s one of the weird things I do.”

“I’ll help. Looks like we’ve got more in common than we thought.”

With Nadia drying off the dishes, Lewis stuck to washing duty and it would’ve been a fairly quick process if the two didn’t sing all the songs that came up. “Damn you can sing sing! Might make you sing for me every day.” She joked, drying off the last bowl used for chocolate chips and moved around the spacious kitchen to put it away.

“Whatever you say, Nads.” Lewis cleaned up the sink then turn to watch her struggle to put the bowl back because the cupboard was too high.

Deciding to help her, he held her waist and hoisted her up then helped her down, the two gazing at each other afterwards. There was that tension again, one step from either of them and their chests would be touching.

Neither had made any move to look elsewhere, getting lost in each other’s eyes. Choosing to be bold, Lewis dragged his eyes to her plump moisturised lips, waiting for something to happen. Anything.

The doorbell ringing is what brought them out of their moment, both looking at the front door as if they had been caught. Hooking her finger to his infamous pearl necklace, Lewis could barely comprehend her lips on the corner of his mouth. A quick peck and her lipgloss now transferred onto him.

“I’ll go get it.” Nadia smirked then gave the shocked man a wink, moving to head to the front door, revealing Tia carrying two Versace bags. “Am I interrupting somethin here?” Tia voiced out before entering the penthouse.

“Hello to you, Tia.” Nadia greeted, closing the front door and following behind.

“I’ve got your outfits for tomorrow!”

“It’s way too early for this shit but but I look good that’s all that matters.” Nadia spoke to herself, spraying the last bit hairspray to the back of her head then adding one last hairpin.

Fixing her dress afterwards, she stared at herself in the mirror and was extremely happy with her choice. She was more than curious to see how Lewis’ outfit came about since she was given the opportunity to style him.

The theme for this event was all black while Donatella Versace and Dua Lipa’s vision was for the runway outfits to be the stars of the show. Going through fashion blogs and archives late at night when she couldn’t sleep, she made sure she built up a good enough outfit to add to her portfolio.

Nadia knew his braider came over this morning whilst she was styling her own wig and she was excited to see the finished product on him. Seeing her Louboutins waiting to be worn on the floor, she decided to make him take photos of her before they left.

Lifting her dress in order for her to not trip on it, Nadia walked to the main bedroom knowing very well that he was there because she could hear his footsteps. “Pookie, could you take some photos of me before we leave. I want to make…sure….” Nadia couldn’t finish her sentence as the man she was looking for walked out of his closet adjusting the black shirt he wore.

“Damn.” She whispered lowly but he had heard her and her previous request. The all black outfit accentuated his physique along with the tailored pants. On anyone else, the outfit wouldn’t be as exciting but on him, it had a completely different style to it. Very minimal jewellery but goodness did it work with the outfit.

“You look gorgeous, Nads. Extremely gorgeous.” Lewis complimented, fixing his watch. She didn’t want to show that the compliment got to her but her pursed lips and high cheekbones were a result of it. “Thank you, Lew.” She voiced.

Eventually, the pair had taken all the pictures they could before leaving. The show had been a success, Donatella had absolutely adored Nadia and how she presented herself to the fashion world. Lewis stood back and watched as she met so many people with such grace and kindness, networking without even realising. Not to mention Dua Lipa going crazy upon finally meeting Nadia, only ever interacting online. Best believe most of the garments were already being sent to Nadia’s doorstep.

With Friday quickly approaching, Nadia sat in the passenger seat of the sf90, texting her younger cousin who finally arrived in the uk the day before. The tension from earlier on in the week was still present but it was masked up with their friendship. Both had tried to distract themselves from it by spending time away from each other; Nadia with the other wags and Lewis with Miles and Spinz but it only got worse because of the space.

The traffic that day was awful but they had somehow gotten to the paddock in time. The atmosphere in Monaco was buzzing with excitement and people were everywhere donning their merch and waiting for their favourite driver to arrive. As always, the Mercedes garage was full with tons more celebrities than there were in Miami.

Spending most of her time with Charlotte, Nadia gathered up the courage to tell her about everything going on with a certain UK rapper. “Wait wait. So he’s still pining for you or what?” The blonde held Nadia’s hands across the table at the Paddock Club, overlooking the garages.

“I rejected him when he tried the first time. We continued being acquaintences until now, I guess. Mind you, this man basically asked if I wanted to be a video vixen.” Nadia rolled her eyes at the whole thing.

“The audacity of this man.” Charlotte said with a disgusted expression. She looked behind Nadia for a moment, watching this person walk closer and closer to them.

“Nads?”

“Yeah?”

“You said he wears a ‘23’ chain?”

“Uh huh…”

“Let’s go, he’s coming over here but he’s distracted right now.” Jumping out of her seat, Charlotte grabbed Nadia’s hand and quickly lead her out to the ever-busy paddock. “Damn, Lottie. Warn a girl next time.” Nadia chuckled as they slowed down and walked leisurely, practice not starting until an hour’s time.

Talking about anything that came to mind, Nadia had accidentally bumped into someone’s shoulder, immediately apologising until she saw who stood in front of her with a gigantic smile on his face.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” He apologised, several Portuguese words following right after. Neymar Jr opted to continue staring at Nadia, all his focus on the woman in front of him. “It’s okay, I’m Nadia Hamilton. Nice to meet you.” She smiled, still holding onto Charlotte’s hand very tightly.

“Ah! Lewis’ wife! I must say you are very beautiful.” Neymar spoke and just like that, Nadia’s smile slightly faltered. “Right! This is Charlotte, my close friend.” She introduced the two to each other but he had his eyes on his friend’s wife.

“You know I never thought I would meet you. I wanted to ask Lewis but as always, he’s busy.” Neymar was trying and Nadia thought it was an adorable attempt. Within the span of a second, Lewis appeared behind Neymar on his scooter, with such a dark look in his eyes.

Charlotte squeezed Nadia’s hand once more to pay attention to her surroundings and once she did, she locked eyes with the man of the hour.

The girls watched as Lewis interacted with Neymar as if he didn’t just look at him in such a way that brought chills down their spines. “I see you’ve met Char and my wife, Nads.” The driver turns to them, reaching to embrace Nadia with Charlotte immediately catching the drift and texting the girls about it.

On the outside, this interaction looked all too friendly with old friends catching up just before Lewis has to get out on track. The look in Lewis' eyes said it all and Nadia couldn’t help but be entertained. Watching the thirsty footballer walk away in defeat and Charlotte running away to go tell Miles and Spinz everything, the pretend couple stood right by his scooter with cameras clearly pointing at them.

Keeping his arm around her shoulders, he leaned down to her ear. “You know you have cameras following your every move,right? You think that was a nice move, princess?” He spoke and she felt the vibrations of his voice travel down her body, resisting the urge to cross her legs.

“No…” She replied.

“Also your little rapper friend came around looking for you. Says he’s shooting for his music video.” He lifted his head to make it look like he was having a normal conversation when in reality, she was anticipating everything coming out of his mouth.

“And what did you say?” She asked, lowering her glasses from her head, following his direction. “Told him to have fun, it’s Monaco after all.” He smirked, he was enjoying this way too much.

All she could do was nod. The last thing she wanted was for that man to meet Lewis and now he’s taken it upon himself to go above himself and Lewis was entertaining it all.

On one of the huge screens right by the grandstands, the camera man made sure to keep the camera on them but Lewis on one step ahead of him. “Smile for the camera, Mrs Hamilton.” He quietly said with a smirk, patting her lower back and that brought goosebumps on her skin.

She smiled the best way she could, showing off her tooth gems.

What the hell? Nadia thought.

“This entire weekend has not been real.” Nadia groaned as she put her head in her hands, her left wrist heavier than the other. The music was blasting loudly as she watched her friends partied from the booth. Their way of persuading her being “He’s driving, you’re not. Let’s go have fun!”

The ‘fun’ in question was shopping, driving around Monaco in different sports cars each, participating in random street interviews and almost ending up in that music video. Not to mention Tia gifting her an iced out Rolex signed by her crew back in the uk, a few tears escaping as she opened the watch just before Lewis left for Qualifying.

However, Nadia Hamilton had no clue what her and her friends were doing at a club as the race was being held, only on lap 12. She was exhausted, these past two weeks finally getting to her and the thought of having to return to work next week made her cringe. No drinks had entered her system but she could feel the headache coming through.

Grabbing her shoulder bag, Nadia headed to the bar to let her friends know that she’ll catch up with them later at the post-race party that apparently everyone attends. Hopping in the Lamborghini and fastening her seat belt, the woman sat back and really thought about her life at the moment.

No less than three months ago, she had finished off paying her student loan 3 years after she received her honours degree from Oxford. Thinking that she finally felt a weight lifted from her shoulders after submitting the final payment but it was nothing compared to how she was living now. Financially free to do whatever she wanted.

She knew it was a dangerous thought to have because truly, no one knows how long this ‘marriage’ between her and Lewis will last. Once he’s no longer in different scandals, will he kick her out? Will he take back the gifts and cars? Who knows. But one thing Nadia knew was that there is always going to be a plan b if the first one doesn’t work out.

Still owns her car, her apartment and places her salary in her savings account just in case this doesn’t carry through.

Hearing the roar of the sports car through the streets of Monaco had caught the attention of those outside of the track, Nadia quickly rushing to the penthouse to avoid the not-so kind weather approaching. Sending a good luck text to Lewis knowing very well he couldn’t read it, she crashed onto the couch after a shower and watched the race whilst occasionally watching from the balcony.

P4 was a good result although she wished for a podium, proud of him either way and her instagram story was evidence. After a few hours of chilling and cooking up some good pasta, Lewis got home and she made sure to hug him with excitement.

“You did the damn thing out there, boy! Those old ass motherfuckers had no idea what they were saying.” Nadia cheesed as she let go of the hug. He was pleasantly surprised at all this energy considering she was out all day.

“I mean, it’s not the result we wanted but I worked my ass off today.” He spoke, placing his stuff down on the kitchen counter. He stood next to her as she too leaned against the counter with her arms crossed.

“By the way, our friends have invited us to the post-race party at Lillie’s.” She pursed her lips then looked at his side profile. “What’s your say?”

“I don’t know, some Brazilian guy’ll be there and want your full attention.” Lewis shrugged.

“So..you?”

Kissing his teeth at her response, she burst into laughter. “I had to, that shit was funny.” Nadia wheezed as she looked at his stoic expression. “Damn,” she wiped a tear of laughter. “Let me go change so I can piss you off even more at the cluuuub!” She stood up straight and walked to her room, cackling loudly as she did. Leaving him to shake his head and laugh at her little jokes.

A good hour had passed and she was surprisingly ready in time. Wanting to keep as many memories of the weekend, Nadia took many photos be it serious or with personality. However, she wanted to change scenery so she went ahead to the living area that had a mirror and had an impromptu photoshoot.

Not noticing Lewis’ heavy footsteps walking around, she only looked up after a few moments and caught him admiring her. He sat on the couch manspread with his arm under his chin although his eyes were telling a different story.

Nadia took one glimpse at his outfit consisting of a LV sweatshirt that resembled a football jersey, large jewellery with his cap facing backwards and a fan in his diamond-clad hand and to take it a step further, he leaned back into the couch and flashed a bright smile, revealing a new set of grillz to her.

Fuck it, she thought.

“You think they’ll mind if we’re a bit late?” She asked, slowly walking towards him until she ended up between his legs. His hand connected with hers and guided her into his lap to straddle him, both hands grabbing at her waist to bring her closer.

“They’ll be fine.” Lewis slightly bit his lip and leaned in.

Instagram!

nadiahamilton:

New message from: @/juliananalu

juliananalu: hiiii

saint’s notes 🎀: pls do not be mistaken, central cee is my man lol. hope you enjoyed!

taglist: @non-stop-imagines @motheroffae @perfecttrashface @lorarri @thisismeracing @myescapefromthislife @slytherinjimin3nthusiast @jamie2305 @like-fire-love-blog @sugardontbesweet @simpfortoomanymen @mauvecherie-writes @queenshikongo3 @eugene-emt-roe @deepgothfiremuffin @18754389 @cherry2stems @anubisnoir @littlelizzies-world @httpsserene @apenasumlug4r @youre-sooooo-funny @eddiesbitch83 @arshiyuh @alika-4466 @peyiswriting @sunfairyy @roseseraj @vsfavs @louvrepool @mistruscity @tian-monique @hopefulromantic1 @exotic-iris13 @yeea-nah @nichmeddar @gg-trini @lifeless-firefly @vellicora @takeoffz-tookoff9876 @serpenttines @emjayewrites @royallyprincesslilly @lewisroscoelove @purplelewlew

if your account is blank, tumblr can’t find you!

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apt502-if · 3 months

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— G. CYRUS' NOVELS

While writing, I thought it would be fun to make the novels from the story. This is how I imagine G's book covers to look like! It'll be nice to be able to see what they look like when they start getting mentioned in the story :>

And if you're wondering what kind of stories G writes ->

GUTS OF THE DIVINE

A CAREER ISN'T MADE WITHOUT SPILLING SOME BLOOD. Piper Carson is a journalist on the brink of a life-changing story. When she agrees to interview a self-proclaimed prophet at his remote cult, she gets much more than she bargained for when she finds out the members are cannibals who claim to know the date of the rapture. "A sleeper hit and a debut that not only churns stomachs but solidifies G. Cyrus as a standout voice of our generation." — Variety

AMERICAN CHERRY

ONE SCANDAL. ONE GIRL. After a life of hiding in the shadows, Cherry No Name is ready to make her debut this season at the ball. She's been overlooked too long. Invisible. Unremarkable. Cherry is determined to change her life around. Too bad her chance is cut off when she's found dead in the middle of the ball. Not only that but someone locked the doors to the estate and gave them one order: CONFESS BY MIDNIGHT OR DIE. Cherry knew too much. And in a room full of wealthy elites with secrets that could ruin everything they worked for, sometimes death is the only answer. "Not at all what you first expect from this witty satire. G manages to infuse humor in the darkest of situations. AMERICAN CHERRY is the novel of the year!" — Lauren Amber, author of SAINTS AND SINS.

CLEOPATRA AND THE SAINTS

Jackson Cruz simply wants to finish his senior year in peace. With an absent mother and a dead father, Jackson has no one but his own brother and a laundry list of problems he hardly has time to think about. That is, until he meets Cleopatra on a ledge of a building. Cleopatra opens him up to the world of illegal street racing and suddenly Jackson finds purpose. Even more when he meets The Saints—a racing crew determined to make it to the big leagues. Jackson's obsession with the Saints brings more trouble than it's worth, and he soon finds that he's willing to go great lengths to not let them slip away. Even if it means destroying himself in the process. "When G first announced the book, there was an appropriate bit of hesitation. The public wondered whether this slight genre shift would work out. Of course, those worries were baseless. With their signature gore and gallows humor that paints their narrative voice, CLEOPATRA AND THE SAINTS is G at their best." — Rudy Calloway, literary critic.

#g cyrus #story add-ons #g's novels

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weasleyreidstyles · 3 months

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Serendipity; Tulips & Starlight

series masterlist

i decided to make it super fluffy and cute - to make up for the angst to come (ig thats a spoiler?? but not really). if you want more one shots for this series send me a request because this was actually so fun 😁😁

Every year, without fail, the castle halls were full to the brim with wreathes of glittering hearts and ribbons of all sorts of reds, pinks and whites. The Hogwarts student body made a huge deal of Valentines Day every year – the muggleborn students had the most fun with the aspects that made it all the more magical. Each year, Professor Dumbledore would employ a series of real life Cupids to fly about the castle shooting 'arrows of love' towards their targets for the price of five whole Galleons.

Every year you find it sickening. This year is no different.

The Great Hall is swarming with people during breakfast and flying among the swooping owls are at least thirty or so Cupids who drift above the tables, skimming people's heads with the tips of their wrinkled feet. In place of the enchanted sky in the ceiling, red hearts have been enchanted to cascade like rain fall, bursting into balls of sparkling light that falls softly onto the tables, which are decorated in the same shade rather than the traditional scarlet, emerald, navy and yellow of the House colours.

You walk into the Great Hall, followed closely by Theo and Pansy, with distain painted across your face. Theo snickers as Pansy gushes silently over the Valentines decor.

"This is disgusting." You say with a scowl as the three of you wander in behind a group of giggling second year girls. Theo's snickering turns into a full on laughter as Pansy's head whips in your direction, disbelief written on her face.

"How can you possibly hate this?" she asks with wide eyes, as if you're committing some form of treason for hating this muggle holiday. "I think it's an endearing little thing."

"At least it's only for one day, tesoro." Theodore teases sarcastically, moving away just in time to avoid your swatting hand. "Don't you want to be swooned with flowers and chocolate?"

You curse his words as you part ways to the Ravenclaw table, shooting him daggers when he speaks to you in your mind as he sits down.

I wonder...should I pay one of those ugly Cupids to shoot an arrow at Matt for you? He smirks mischievously as said boy wanders into the Great Hall, deep brown eyes immediately seeking you out before he finds his friends.

You send him a smile, that goes unnoticed by everyone but him, before shooting as many cuss words you know towards Theo, who only laughs in response.

I'll take that as a no, then. Enjoy your breakfast, tesoro. Is all he can say before you kick him from your mind with a forceful shove.

He turns to Mattheo and they begin to have a lengthy discussion, but you're not curious enough to find out what it is, more content with drowning yourself in caffeine, if only to fuel your need to survive through the day.

~∞~

The Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom is possibly the only room in the castle that doesn't reflect the rest of the hallways. You should be glad that it no longer looks like Saint Valentine threw up in every single crevice, but the gloomy atmosphere actually makes your mood deplete. Mattheo had been sending you secretive looks all day and you had to admit that you were curious.

He was definitely planning something; it made you nervous, butterflies fluttering anxiously in your stomach.

Professor Snape was still yet to make his dramatic entrance to the classroom; you were chatting with Hermione, Ron and Harry as you waited impatiently for the lesson to start when Harry pointed to something fluttering above your head.

It's not a Cupid. Thank Merlin. But it's still happening in front of so many people and you want the ground to swallow you whole, until you make eye contact with its sender, who was smirking into the crook of his elbow, avoiding your narrowed gaze.

Mattheo had somehow gotten some faeries to flutter about your head, silent and imposing as one by one, they made about a dozen tulips of varying shades of red, purple and yellow, appear on your desk. You bite the inside of your cheek hard to stop the smile spreading across your face, but it doesn't hinder the bright blush that floods your aching cheeks.

"What the fuck?" Ron guffaws loudly, drawing more attention to the four of you, but you ignore everyone in favour of the deep rasp of his voice that enters your mind.

Theo said it would be a hard no if I paid one of the Cupids to shoot an arrow at you. He says, voice filled with mirth.

Yes. I would've run out of this classroom and you would never see me again. You respond with sparkling eyes.

Well I'm glad I listened to him, for once. Do you like them? The flowers, I mean? He sounds almost... insecure; nervous. Two things Mattheo Riddle is not. Your expression softens.

I love them. Did you know that tulips are my favourite flower?

I asked little Weasley for some help with that one. I'm glad you like them, love. His smirk has transformed into a genuine smile as you brave looking at him amidst the sea of your peers, including the eyes of your three best friends.

Within your conversation that only took mere minutes, rather than the eternity you wished it was, the faeries flittered towards your books and rested upon your desk infront of you, bounding the fallen tulips into an intricate bouquet, bound by what looked like a string of glitter, but you knew better.

You and Hermione gasp simultaneously, along with the other girls in the near vicinity of your desk. Harry and Ron only look more baffled.

"I-is that starlight?" Mione whispers in awe as you both stare down at the faeries who grin up at you with sparkling teeth as the bright silvery light acts like a beacon amidst the darkness of the classroom. "Whoever this is has gone beyond what I thought possible for your attention."

"Yeah." you reply with glistening eyes that flick to Mattheo who looks like he's sat on the edge of his seat.

He sees it in your eyes. The emotion that neither of you have dared to voice, too scared to step even further over the line that you were already holding onto for dear life, but that grip was slipping with every passing day.

Mattheo knew then that he would gift you the world if you asked for it; he would give you anything, even something as rare and beautiful as starlight.

The rest of the day is a blur for you. You hardly notice the eyesores that are Cupids flying around like headless chickens, chasing people around the grounds. All you can think about are the Tulips wrapped up in glistening starlight that sit safely in a vase in your dorm room.

~∞~

Meet me in the Astronomy Tower – M

The lone note, that sits on your bedside table, reads. It was not there when you returned from dinner earlier, so it had appeared during the time you've spent in the company of your friends since then.

The day is almost over, the Grandfather clock in the common room is distantly chiming that it is eleven at night, marking one more hour of the day.

You had woken up in a sour mood over what you would have to endure from overbearing couples and lovesick idiots all day. But you had been pleasantly surprised by just how thoughtful Mattheo had been.

And you were not expecting it at all.

Mattheo Riddle who portrayed this persona of pure evil, stoicism and nonchalance to the world had gone above and beyond your expectations of Valentines Day and turned it into something truely magical.

You turn to look at your chest of drawers, where the tulips rest in a glass vase, starlight pooling around them, and into the air, casting a pleasant glow around your room. You had quickly discovered that he had also charmed the tulips to last forever. So they would never die; symbolic true love forever bathed in breathtaking starlight that was bestowed upon the bouquet like faery dust infront of your very eyes.

Quickly you changed into presentable, but comfortable clothes: Black flared leggings and you covered your cold arms with a fluffy jumper that cropped just above your belly button shoving on a pair of dark trainers before you made the short journey out of the Ravenclaw common room towards the neighbouring Astronomy tower.

It only took you ten slow minutes to sneak across corridors, silently praying the Filch and Mrs. Norris didn't turn the corners when you did. But you got to the Astronomy tower without a hitch and descended the steep staircase, wrapping your arms tighter around yourself at the bite of the cold.

"You came." his voice is a soft caress against the wind and you find yourself immediately wrapped up in his strong arms.

"Of course, I did." you mumble into his chest, hugging him tighter as a gust of wind circles the two of you. "I've been thinking about you all day."

"Have you now?" He asks with a smirk that turns into a startled chuckle as you shove against his chest with a laugh of your own.

It's only when you step out of his embrace that you see what he had planned. Your mouth gapes as you take in the scene in front of you.

Set up in the centre of the open room, surrounded by telescope's and magical orreries, is a red and white gingham picnic blanket surrounded by dazzling balls of light that cascade down the stone walls like fairy lights. There are candles dotted about the room, casting a warm glow.

"Matt-" you start but the feeling of his chest pressing into your back has your voice quieting as he presses languid kisses to your exposed neck. You sigh as you relax into his hold. "How long did this take you?"

"Not long. Pansy helped me with the decorations while I got food from the kitchens. Dobby heard your name and went all out." he chuckles quietly as he gently guides you towards the blanket, where a dark brown picnic basket sits among a series of long candlesticks.

"It looks lovely." you say as you move to sit down, Mattheo following closely behind.

Your thigh presses against his as he reaches into the basket, pulling out a bottle of sparkling wine. You smile as he turns to you with a cheeky grin.

"Ready to be wined and dined, sweetheart?" he asks with a smirk as he pops the cork and pours both of you a generous amount. Your smile gives way to a delightful giggle as you clink your glasses together, pulling out a series of food that Dobby had generously prepared for the two of you.

~∞~

"How did you manage to plan all this? From the tulips to the starlight to...to this? It's all so perfect." you ask as you take a bit out of a chocolate covered strawberry.

"Well...Weasley told me about your favourite flowers and their meaning and I figured out how to bargain with the faeries from the forest for the starlight."

"How?" you were intrigued.

"That's my secret, love." he teases. "I'm not allowed to say."

"Not even to me?" you pout and he laughs as he takes a bit out of the pumpkin pasty on his plate.

"Not even you. I can't break a faerie's promise. You know that."

You could reason with that, you supposed. Faerie promises were sacred in the wizarding world.

"I think this is our first real date." you say contently, as you lean back on your elbows, staring at the side of his chiselled face.

"It is, isn't it." he says, nodding his head. One of his hands rests idly against your thigh, thumb occasionally stroking against the fabric of your leggings. "Well I must say, I don't think you'll ever top this."

You let out a loud laugh at his arrogance that has Mattheo swooning as he stares at you.

"What?" you ask, face wide with a smile as you reach up to brush your hands against your mouth. "Do I have something on my face?"

He leans in closer, voice barely a whisper.

"Yeah, you have an eyelash right here-" he reaches his hand to brush away the stray lash that had fallen onto your cheek but before he does, he presses a searing kiss to your lips.

Momentarily stunned, you react a second late before you wrap your arms around his neck, letting him lay you across the gingham blanket. He smiles against your lips and you can't help but lick at the seam of them until he lets you explore his mouth with your tongue, groaning as he grinds his hips against your's.

The peaceful atmosphere is disrupted by the incessant flapping of wings that has you detaching your lips from his. Looking around curiously you spot the intruder floating around in your peripheral.

"I thought I made it clear that I abhored the idea of a Cupid shooting an arrow at us." you say with a huff as the angel like creature lines up it's bow and arrow. To his credit, Mattheo actually looks confused as he swivels his head in the direction you're looking in.

"I- I didn't-" he pauses before shooting a scathing look towards the door. "Fucking Theodore thinks he's so funny."

The Cupid's arrow makes it's mark and all you feel is a pinch, no less painful than a pin prick, before the loud laughter of your friend is heard from behind the door. You'd find it hillarious if it was anyone else, but not while you were having such an intimate moment.

Mattheo looks about ready to maim his best friend, but you stop him by wrapping your legs around his hips.

"Leave it, Théo. He's just being a dick because he's got no Valentine this year." you say, making your voice louder so that Theo can hear you clearly. You hear his receding footsteps along with his echoing laughter that has Mattheo easing up, but he's clearly speaking to Theo as there's a clouded look in his raging onyx eyes.

"Sorry love." he says as he presses kisses down your neck, reaching for the hem of your jumper that is quickly discarded. You look up at him with an expression that has him melting into you instantly. The words are on the tip of your tongue, but something was stopping you; you knew it was irrational, knew that he felt the same way about you.

But you wanted to tell him when the time was right, and no matter how perfect, you knew that this wasn't that moment. You were content in bathing in his otherworldly presence, pressing kisses to his mouth, nose, cheeks and neck as he worshipped you under the stars.

Your time together was a reprieve from everything happening around you; there was a darkness looming about the castle, but in Mattheo's arms you felt infinitely safe.

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#mattheo riddle x reader #serendipity series #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle #fluff #valentines day #drabble

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lanadelreyscokewhor3 · 2 years

Text

RELIGION- S.G ROGERS

Pairing: Normad! Steve Rogers x Innocent/ Virgin! Fem! Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary: Steve’s prayers have finally been answered after all these years, as he finds you waiting for him in the church he calls home. Captivated by him and his charm, you get swept up in his arms, to soon find out Steve isn't the saint he painted himself out to be.

Warnings: SMUT, HEAVY daddy kink, HEAVY innocence/ corruption kink, breeding kink, petnames, degradation kink, heavy praise kink, dumbification kink, finger sucking, teasing, masturbation mentioned,almost like training in a way?, cumplay and gagging implied, blowjob implied, smoking, steve is kinda soft!dark here

Notes: “ cause you’re my religion, you’re how im livin... when all my friends say i should take some space...well i cant envision that for a minute- when im down on my knees you’re how i pray” - religion, lana del rey

the chapel: a playlist

Steve had not expected to see an angel at the end of the isle, when he stepped through the gleaming oak doors.

He had been to this church many times in his life, its worn wooden pews and golden crosses familiar to him like the back of his own hand. He had sat in those very pews that lay in rows, no other person around to bother him as he would stare up at the marble statue by the organ, or with his head between his hands as he stared at the rustic floor that so many others had walked before him.

But he had never seen an angel, contained in these walls.

Steve wasn't an overly religious man. But he had needed something- anything to believe in with the insanity that had managed to slither its way into his life, a snake with venom so poisonous he had found his way here again.

It appears he had found something new, something else to believe in, he thought, watching your little frame stand at the end of the deep plush carpet that had guided his way towards you.

The sunlight that filtered in through the stained glass windows shimmered around you like a halo, lighting up your features like the diamonds. It was mesmerizing, the way it shinned down upon you, focusing on you like a spotlight.

Moving with you, as you tilted your head back, soaking in the dimmed rays that made their way through the images plastered on the glass.

You looked up at the lanterns that hung upon chains from the high arched ceilings, the wooden beams their support as they flickered.

“It’s beautiful, isn't it?” you hummed softly, feeling a presence near you, his aura dark and mysterious.

Enchanting.

Steve had found his way next to you, arm close enough to touch, warm body heat rolling off him in waves to wrap around your skin, soothing the goosebumps that had broken out across your arms.

Steve was fixated on you- truly.

Your voice had sounded like the sweet strings of a harp, being strummed in perfect harmony. He had wanted more.

“It is.” he spoke softly, voice husky as he stared down at you.

He didn't know you were talking about the marble statue that adorned the dais, arms reaching up towards heaven, as if that would save him from the tears that spilled across his pained face.

Steve was talking about you.

You turned, little white dress brushing against his thigh as you smiled. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of you, your eyes twinkling like stars in the night, smile showing your little dimples in the hazy light. You were better than he had ever imagined, a sweet, innocent soul.

One he wanted to corrupt.

“ He looks in pain, in a way. Or sad. But it’s beautiful, when people cry.” you sighed, looking up at Steve in wonder. As if he was the angel who had flown in, had come and saved the day.

“We’re all in pain, are we not? But many of us shape that pain into beauty.” he nodded, hand reaching up to wrap a finger around a stray curl that had draped across your cheekbone.

You leaned into his gentle touch, though his hands were calloused. His hands were beautiful, as you could tell they had been in pain. They had carried weights they shouldn't have had to carry. You felt safe with Steve, despite his dark demeanour.

He was soft with you. Gentle.

“What’s your name?” he whispered, as if he was unsure if he should be asking. “Y/N.” you smiled, glancing back over to the altars, peering at the candles that continued to burn, wax dripping and spilling onto the tables. “I’m Steve.”

A pretty name, for a pretty man… you thought.

You had to focus on something, anything else but those blue orbs that threatened to swallow you whole. Or you’d drown. And you weren't so sure you’d want to be saved.

“I’ve never seen you around before, angel.”

Angel.

The name alone was enough to send shivers down your spine, despite the mugginess of the dry summer heat. “ The door was closed. I opened it. Now I’m here.”

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

Now I’m here.

Those words rang through his head like the bell in the tower, striking at six. Twelve. Nine. Then six again.

Somehow, through the endless amounts of prayers he had whispered to the universe, to the gods and goddesses, you had appeared. He had begged for salvation.

You, it seemed, were just that.

Steve saw you each time he slid through those old rustic wooden doors, standing in front of that very statue, by the burning candles and crosses.

Almost as if you were waiting for him.

It was never on a Sunday, but a Wednesday, an empty chapel day. The day of expression, and communication. Steve often would slide up behind you, as he did the very first meeting, intertwining your hand with his with a gentle squeeze.

Some days he would tug you along, sliding into a pew with you to hold you closer, or he’d take you through the back way- to the overgrown gardens. Other days, it was the two of you staring at the stained glass, or the statues, in silence.

You liked both days. You liked any days you could be with Steve.

“You know I’m not even religious?” you had told him one day, stretching your legs in front of you from your seat on the wooden bench, flexing your feet. He had just raised his eyebrow. “Why were you here then angel?” Steve had asked as you toyed with his shirt.

“I was following a little white cat, but he left before I could pick him up. He led me here. Then you showed up, so I stayed.”

Steve had liked that answer. He had liked it a whole lot.

Wednesday meetings had turned into Wednesday and Friday meetings. Then Saturday. Then Sunday.

Those meetings had changed from the church’s grounds to little cafes and parks, old Hollywood cinemas and roller rinks. Those “meetings” had turned into dates.

And one of the dates turned into Steve sweeping you up in his arms under the pale moonlight, pouring his very heart and soul into a kiss that left you dizzy.

Now the two of you were here.

Here, on his bed, the golden sunlight streaming down on Steve in rays, like they did in the chapel- showcasing the strands of rich honey in his beard. You were sleeping soundly on his chest, rising and falling with his breathing as he propped up against the headboard, petting your hair lovingly.

Even in sleep, you clutched to him tightly, as if you were scared he’d leave you.

Steve learned very early that your love language was touch. Innocent touches.

Everything about you was innocent.

You were attached to him at the hip, always holding him in some manner, or tending to him, whether that was playing with his hair or kissing his neck, leaving little smears of your lipgloss on his skin.

Nothing more than that though.

You had told him early on in the relationship you were a virgin, and you had wanted to take things slow, as you weren't used to getting attention- only giving it. Steve was completely fine with this of course, knowing your soul was much too innocent, too pure to be handled by anyone else.

Steve wanted nothing more than to take care of you, to love and cherish you. But sometimes, his thoughts would turn south. He hated himself for it, he truly did. But how could he think clearly, with you looking like that?

So beautiful, so innocent and carefree.

Sliding his hand down, he slowly brushed your back, resting his hand gently on your ass, squeezing tenderly.

“Mmm…” you stirred in your sleep, readjusting yourself as he chuckled. “Little steps for a little girl hmm?” he cooed, patting your flesh softly as his hand made its way back to your back, rubbing circles as he listened to your calm breathing, your body still deep in its slumber.

He wanted to corrupt you.

He wanted his darkness, his desires and needs to fill you to the brim, until you were spilling over with want and neediness.

Little steps Steve. Little steps.

“Don’t worry angel, we’ll get you all trained for me soon.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- It had started off on the couch, on a rainy Tuesday afternoon. You listened to the sound of the rain pattering down the windows blending with the vinyl that spun on the vintage player.

Perched upon Steve's lap, you watched him intently, drumming your figures against his lean biceps, your nails giving him a soothing scratch. You looked so little, so fragile as he seated you on top of him, and he adored it.

He was hesitant to do what he was about to do, but all logical thoughts left his brain as you peered up at him, doe eyes wide.

“Can you open your mouth for me please angel?” he asked gently. You tilted your head, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

Open your mouth? Why would he want you to open your mouth?

He wasn't helping you brush your teeth, and he wasn't spooning ice cream between your plump lips.

Despite this, you obeyed, mouth opening slightly. You listened to Steve, you knew that he knew what was best for you. He had reminded you time and time again, and you were thankful for it. Steve could sense your hesitation, watching you part your lips only slightly.

“Good girl!” he smiled, seeing your cheeks flush, your thighs shifting as you squirmed in delight at the praise.

He knew about it since the very first meeting, sensing your body language whenever he would compliment you, or praise you for your actions.

God, he couldn't wait to tap into that even more.

“Wider.. atta girl.” he cooed, slipping his two fingers past your parted lips, making your eyes widen in surprise. “Just trust me baby okay? You’re doing such a good, good job. Just suck on em, justttt like that.” he murmured, watching as you slowly relaxed your jaw, hollowing your cheeks as you sucked on his fingers like a pacifier.

Your eyelids felt heavy as you sucked, swirling your tongue around his digits. It was relaxing, you realised. You didn't know why exactly he was making you do this, but you couldn't complain about how it was making you feel.

“What a big girl eh? Doin it all by herself.” he smiled as you moved your hands to wrap around his wrist. He slid his fingers out with a soft pop!, watching the string of your saliva stick to his fingers from your lips.

“Good girl angel. My beautiful angel.” he said, kissing your neck as you giggled, praising you until you were a squirming mess.

Rewarding you.

It became a daily routine, those little moments of serenity. Positive reinforcement- is what it was called, he discovered. Gifting you little rewards, things you liked whenever you did what he asked, so you’d do it more, and more.

It worked, and it worked well.

Pretty soon, you’d trot up to Steve at the same time everyday, perching up on his lap to take his fingers. He’d slowly push them deeper and deeper, so you’d be ready for him, on your knees.

But not to pray. Never to pray.

Steve tried it with other things, like calling him daddy. What you were supposed to be calling him.

It had slipped out when the two of you were having a heated makeout session, his hand tangled in your hair as teeth and tongues clashed. “Stev-”

“It’s Daddy to you angel. Only Daddy, mkay?” You had nodded slowly, bringing your hand up to touch your swollen lips. “Daddy?” He had just smiled. “Yes angel, daddy. Makes me so happy, when you call me that.” He slid his hands up your skirt, knuckles brushing your inner thighs, making you purr like a kitten.

So far, his tactics had been working like a charm. You had been obeying him, trailing him around the house just for the small chance you’d be able to play with his large, veiny hands, or be able to wrap your arms around his torso and squeeze him like a teddy bear.

You had even begun to call him daddy without even realising it, the name slipping out of your mouth as smooth as silk. Little did you know hard you made him each time, your little actions causing him to grind against you subtly.

It was torture. The sin that littered his thoughts whenever you neared, whenever the sweet, sickly smell of your arousal clung to his skin, making it heat and burn.

Steve needed release. He needed it now.

You were already in a vulnerable state of mind at the time, the hour growing late, your body tired and limp. He watched you from his armchair in the corner of the bedroom, exhaling the cigarette smoke from between his lips, watching it vacate through the opened window as the curtains swayed gently in the cool night breeze.

You watched him intently, legs clenching together at the sight of him manspreading, head lolled back against the soft velvet. “Can I have a drag?” you asked sweetly, shuffling up on your knees, the bed dipping slightly under your weight.

“Little girls like you don't get cigs angel. They’re not good for you.” he chuckled, watching you pout. “But you get them!” you huffed. He tapped his smoke on the edge of the ash tray, letting the stray ash fall as he shifted up from his seat.

He made his way across the room in two strides, sliding the cigarette between your parted lips. You inhaled deeply, smoke feeling your lungs, choking you. You coughed and spat as you exhaled, the smog burning your throat.

“See? It’s yucky.” he smirked, putting out the but. “Why’d you let me then?” you asked, wincing at the stale taste.

“Cause you gotta learn angel. When I tell you no, it means no. For good reason at that.” he laughed, flicking your nose with a smile.

“Hmph.” you huffed, forgetting about the bitter taste as he lightly pushed you down upon the silk sheets, making your hair sprawl out around you. “You’re so beautiful angel.” he whispered, hand coming up to cup your cheek, thumb rubbing your bottom lip, tugging it down occasionally.

“Yeah daddy?” you blushed, feeling your core heat at the praise, your body going taut under his touch as you shifted your thighs together for friction.

It didn't go unnoticed by Steve. He smirked.

“Yeah, angel. Such a beautiful, beautiful girl for me. My girl.” he emphasised, breath getting caught in his throat as you slipped his thumb in your mouth, sucking on it softly as you peered up at him innocently.

“Wanna be your good girl.” you smiled, licking the saliva off his thumb as your hands came up to brush the hair that curled at the back of his neck, the strands soft as silk between your fingers. “You wanna be my good girl? Then can you answer something for me? Truthfully? You know daddy doesn't like lies.”

You nodded, eyes wide.

“Do you get those tingles around me angel? The ones you told me about earlier, the ones that make you feel all warm n fuzzy?” he cooed, biting his lip as you nodded, squirming under him. “Can you show daddy where?”

You grabbed his hand, guiding it down to your quivering cunt, sliding it under the slip of your nightgown. “R’here daddy.” you whined, moaning as he tapped his two fingers against your clit.

“Oh angel, you’re awfully wet. Is this all for me?” he tsked, grinning as you bucked your hips up into his touch, tugging his hair tighter. “S’all for you daddy…”

“You gonna let daddy make it all better? S’not good for little girls like you to be gettin this all worked up.” he pouted, mock sympathy dripping from his words like acid.

“Want you to fix it daddy, make me all better. Please?” you whispered, lapping up each drop of the stinging liquid that dripped from his tongue like a woman starved.

“How could I say no to a pretty face like that?” he smiled, stroking your cheek, his hands tracing over the plains and valleys of your body, watching your breasts perk up, nipples pebbling from under the sheer white lace of your dress.

“Mmm daddy whatta doin?” you asked timidly, curious to what the man above you was doing, his hands resting on your thighs. “Gonna make it all better angel. Now be a good girl and present to daddy, attaaa girl.” he cooed as you allowed him to spread your legs apart and flip your nightgown up, revealing your soaked panties to him.

“Just a dumb lil baby arent you? I gotta do everything for you?” You shook your head, watching as he began to slide the flimsy fabric down, down, down past your thighs to the tips of your toes.

“S’fine, you know I like takin care of you angel eyes. But tonight, I’m gonna take these-” He dangled the thong from his fingers, setting it down on the bedside table beside him. “And I’m goin stroke my cock with em, and you’re goin watch angel. Then, after daddys got his cream all over em, I’m gonna shove it between those pretty little lips of yours, okay?”

You nodded, purely dumbfounded. This side of Steve, you had never seen before. Not that you were complaining- of course. You were just… new to this.

Very new.

“Yes daddy.”

“Good girl angel. You’re never gonna leave this house unless you got my cum in your panties, gotta stuff you full of me allll the time.” he grinned, pupils blown as he took in your beautiful body, all splayed out for him.

Like an angel.

You whimpered as he took his fingers, running the digits across your slit, watching you clench around air as he teased you. “This is mine now, okay angel? My fuckhole. It’s daddys property now.”

You moaned at his words alone, your head lolling against the sheets as he slid off his shirt, the dim glow of the candles making his chiselled abs gleam faintly. The sight had you sucking in air through your teeth, his muscles flexing as he bent your legs causing you to spiral.

“Are we gonna do what we always do? With your fingers?” you begged, hiccuping as he patted your puffy folds tenderly with the palm of his hand. “Something so much better baby. You’re gonna love it so much, it’ll make the tingles feel all better. Daddys here now, takin care of you just like he should.”

You watched as he unbuckled his belt, the jangle of it making you jump as he shrugged off his jeans and boxers, exposing his hard, aching cock to you.

“ It's so big daddy!” you whispered, watching as he smirked in delight. “S’not gonna fit in there…” you trailed off, gasping as he rubbed his cock against your soaked folds, moaning as he tapped your clit firmly, his precum mixing with your juices.

“Oh we’ll make it fit angel. How else is daddy supposed to take care of you hmm?” You whimpered, watching as he neared your entrance.

“Daddy m’scared.” you confessed, gripping his bicep tightly, crescent moons forming across his soft, smooth skin as he ever so slowly pushed the tip in.

“Shhh, shh that's a good girl. I know you’re scared angel but daddys here now, that's it honey.” he praised, slowly easing in, stretching you as you cried out. “You gotta relax for me angel, or else it won't feel good to you. And we don't want that do we? Daddy's little fucktoy needs to feel good.” he cooed, encouraging you to take deep, shaky breaths as you allowed him to fill you up, your walls hugging him like a glove.

“Daddy s’big-” you cried, tears falling from your doe eyes, sliding down your flushed cheeks as he seating himself fully in you.

“This is how it's gonna be from now on angel, I gotta keep you filled all the time. You gotta keep daddy nice and warm.” he teased, leaning down to brush a soft, tender kiss on your cheeks, lapping up the salty tears that lay there.

“You’re doing so well for me baby. I’m so proud of you.” he whispered, tenderly kissing along your jaw as he slid out slowly, making you gasp. “Proud of me-e?” you asked, moaning as he thrusted slowly back into you, his hips picking up an easy rhythm as you threw your head back in pleasure.

“So proud angel. Hey, hey eyes on me okay? I’m right here, I’m with you angel. We’re gonna go to heaven together, you and I.”

“S’good daddy. Feels so good-d.” you hiccuped, the pain turning to pleasure as your legs trembled, muscles turning limp as he rocked into you, hissing at the way you’d clench around him tightly.

“Told you I’d make you feel good angel eyes. D-daddy always knows.” his breath caught as your nails raked down his arms, tugging him even closer as you wrapped your legs around his waist. “Wanna fill you full, stuff you full of my cum. You want that angel?”

“Yes oh gods!” you screamed, heavenly fire caressing and licking down your spine as your core churned, the feelings of pure pleasure overwhelming your senses.

“Cum for me angel. Cum for daddy.” he whispered, voice husky in your ear, echoing off the walls as you wailed his name in bliss.

You shattered under him, the pieces of you snapping off with each thrust, glistening on the sheets like broken glass. It was heaven, the way he made you feel. Your orgasm escaped you with a gentle tug, your vision turning starry as Steve’s hips shuttered.

“Fuck angel… look attcha, milkin me dry.” he cooed, watching your juices squirt on his cock, coating him. “Daddy need you-” you moaned, screaming as his grip harshened, a final thrust before he came with a grunt of your name, followed by endless praises.

“Oh angel, my sweet angel…” he whispered, watching your body shake and squirm under him, your breath coming in short little gasps from the stimulation your body just endured.

He was so proud of you. So proud of his little girl for taking him all, for pleasing him.

“We’re gonna get you on your knees soon honey okay? Just like mass.”

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lexsssu · 6 months

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Fate (Scaramouche)

TAGS: Scaramouche/Dragoness!reader, dirty talk, smut, drabble Ao3 ver.

“Hey, hey, hey...so where’s the strong, defiant dragoness I met all that time ago? All I see right now is a lewd woman who craves nothing except to be impregnated by my seed,” the Fatui harbinger slammed his hips harshly against your rump, watching gleefully as your soft skin rippled and reddened with each smack of his hips and hands. “That’s what you wanted in the first place, right? To get my attention by acting so haughtily only to practically jump on my cock as soon as the situation allowed it.”

Scaramouche had you right where he wanted, on all fours with your head planted on the soft bedding while your hips were raised up high. One hand groped your breasts, molding and squeezing the soft tits that practically overflowed from his hand before pinching and pulling at your nipples until they shone a bright pink.

“Figures that only a strong, capable man like myself can tame a wild beast like you,” oh how he enjoyed the chase, the challenge you tried futilely to pull only to fall into his hands in the end. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to pump every last drop of my load into your greedy cunt and bless you with the honor of mothering ALL my children.”

He could still remember the day he first met you, how you glared at him with those haunting molten gold eyes the moment he tried to approach you and the Traveler. Even back then you already knew of the energy that rippled beneath his skin, of the dark thoughts he harbored to all those he deemed as nothing but pieces and pawns in the grand scheme of the Tsaritsa’s plans.

You weren’t a saint by any means, but neither were you a ruthless vagabond like him who did atrocious acts for his archon and himself.

Firm yet soft, strong yet kind, proud yet humble.

You are everything he wasn’t and maybe that was your first and only mistake. Had you been just as naive as the Traveler or perhaps as skeptical or skittish as some of the other residents of Mondstadt then mayhaps you wouldn’t have found his attention on you in the first place.

But he supposes that perhaps it was all meant to be from the start.

You were meant to be underneath him like this, offering your body for him to partake of until you were utterly drenched in his essence both inside and out.

Bruises and bite marks littered your soft skin like paint on a canvas, all of them courtesy of the young man that plowed into you with sadistic glee. Luckily since you were a dragon, the roughness you were taken with only served to heighten your pleasure as you were made of stronger material than any human or being in this world. That was why the electro-user felt that you were simply made for him, why he could rough you up as much as he wanted and you’d still want more from him.

“You like the sound of that? Of becoming my little wife and bringing you all the way to Snezhnaya and Inazuma where I could fuck you every day?” His dark blue eyes almost looked pitch-black with how dark they were as his thoughts ran to the image of you waiting for him every single day to bless you with his cock and seed like a good little slut.

All for him.

In the coming months, your belly swelled with life and Scaramouche became even more insatiable than he already was.

Meanwhile, the other Fatui harbingers and agents felt dread within their souls at the thought of a Mini-Scaramouche wreaking havoc amongst the populace.

#lexsssu writes #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact scaramouche #genshin impact scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x y/n #genshin scaramouche #genshin impact smut #crossposted on ao3

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suicide-bullet · 2 months

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reader is religious, euronymous fucks her woooo!!!

fem reader + oc, if u want a specific description request pls! corruption kink, degradation kink, praise kink too, pet names, name calling, blasphemy, freaky smut, cheating, hair pulling, dom!euronymous, sub!reader, stranger to lovers.

y/n walked into the unfamiliar store, her blonde curls bouncing with every step. her short, black mini skirt riding up, as she adjusted her leather jacket. her crucifix lay on her chest, bouncing atop of her breasts. for a religious girl she certainly showed a lot of skin, as her mother would say. the bell rang, the long haired man at the counter spun on his feet. she stood to the left of the store, flicking through the albums.

she looked around, spotting many upside-down crosses, making her grimace. y/n walked towards the counter, giving the man a smile. euronymous looked her up and down with a sly smirk, "you sure you're in the right place, little lady?" that same smirk soon turned into something else, when he spotted that necklace. she rolled her eyes, "i'm looking for an album for my boyfriend. it's his birthday tomorrow."

euronymous stared into her soul, a mix of anger and jealousy spread across his face. why did he like this girl? she was just one of those 'egotistical god whores.' he wondered how she felt about the churches, something inside of him urging to ask.

"he mentioned a name, scorpio or something." she fiddled with her black-painted fingernails. euronymous raised his eyebrows at the small girl, "scorpions?" she nodded, her eyes lit up. "yes! that was it, thankyou." euronymous chuckled, "your boyfriend is a fucking poser." her eyebrows knitted together, "what?" she spat. "you fuckin' heard me." he spoke slowly, rage clear in his voice. his eyes longed on her chest, on that necklace. "you one of those goody christian whores?"

she stayed quiet, he leaned forward. "you deaf or somethin? answer me." he demanded, making her knees buckle. "i'm not a whore." she snarled, igniting a fire within him. "don't fuckin' talk to me like that." y/n scoffed, "you can't tell me what to do." she remarked, he grabbed her by her hair, pulling her behind the counter, in front of him. he grabbed her necklace, holding it in his clutch. "you're a good girl, hm? a saint, an angel." he spoke, looking into her brown orbs. "yes." she whimpered, looking up at him.

he could smell her from beneath him. mixtures of floral, cocoa and vanilla. on the other hand, he smelt of cigarettes, cologne and strangely blood. "then why are you here? can't you see? i'm a satanist, baby." she grimaced yet again, "you need jesus." euronymous grabbed her neck, "why you always got a fuckin' attitude? your boyfriend doesn't fuck you hard enough, is that it?" y/n shook her head, "my boyfriend fucks me just fine."

"oh, sweetheart. he fucks you? your little god wouldn't be so happy about that now would he?" euronymous teased, she pouted her lips, tears pricking in her eyes. "maybe you need to repent for your sins, i can help you with that." he grabbed her waist, rubbing against the soft skin, his lips latching on to her neck, she let out a quiet moan. "no, stop. this is wrong, i, i don't even know you. and, and i have a boyfriend." euronymous continued, she didn't fight it, letting out whimpers as he travelled down her neck.

a pool of slick formed in her underwear, as she smashed her lips against his. his hands cupped her face, he bit down on her lip, making her them fall apart. his tongue entering her mouth, her own fighting for dominance. "atta' girl." he mumbled, wrapping her legs around his waist, holding onto her thighs, placing her onto the counter. his hands groped her skin, ripping her black fishnets. "fuck." y/n moaned, her bangs sticking to her now sweaty forehead. he smirked, rolling her skirt up onto her hips, looking down at her deep red, lacy thong. "such a good girl, all for me." he gently moved her thong to the side, dipping a finger into her wetness.

"fuck, you're so wet already. jesus." he blasphemed, his thumb circling her clit. she moaned out in pleasure, reaching her arms out to land around his neck. her nails scratched up and down his back, making euronymous groan. he shoved two fingers into her aching hole, making her let out a downright pornographic moan. "shit, oh my god." euronymous smirked, "there's no gods in here, baby. just me." he curled his finger inside of her, hitting that sweet spot that made her toes curl, and her eyes roll back.

"shit, please. please. i need you." she begged, her hands tangled in his hair. "say it again. say my name, euronymous." he said, she whimpered. "please, euronymous. i need you." he rubbed her clit, driving her over the edge. "awh, that's just not gonna cut it, sweet girl. what do you need? use your words." he teased, she groaned. "your cock. please." she pleaded, and he smiled.

he unbuckled his belt, unzipping his black jeans. she moved a hand down to her pussy, he immediately swatted it away. "no, you fucking slut. stop. do i have to tie you up? hm?" she shook her head, "good girl." he pulled his dick out of his underwear, stroking it a few times, precum coated the tip. he then ragged her hair, making her yelp. euronymous bent her over the counter, guiding his dick towards her cunt, dragging it between her folds. "euronymous, please." she begged again, he slapped her ass, slipping into her hole. "fuck, you're so tight." she moaned out, his length filling her up.

he instantly began moving, drilling into her pussy, giving her no time to adjust to his size. "oh my god!" she screamed, as he roughed the flesh of her thighs, before his hands gripped her hips violently, for sure leaving handprints. "yeah, that's right bitch. i'm your god." he groaned out, one of his hands gripping onto the necklace, pulling it. she felt an unfamiliar feeling in her stomach, one that her boyfriend could have never given her. "shit, fuck. euro- i'm close." he pounded harder into her, abusing her pussy. "don't fuckin' cum till i say you can." he commanded, she whimpered and whined. "shut the fuck up!" he yelled, gripping onto her hair.

tears pricked her eyes, sobs racked throughout her body. "oh you gonna cry? you think that's gonna make me feel bad? shut up and fucking take it, whore." she gasped, he slapped her ass again, as she felt a knot form in her stomach. "please, i can't! s'too much!" he felt his own orgasm taking over him, as she clenched around his dick.

"fuck, go ahead, baby. cum for me." euronymous insisted, his dick twitched inside of her, as they came in unison. he groaned into her ear, kissing down her neck, leaving multiple hickeys. "good girl, you were so good for me." he whispered sweet words into her ear, rubbing his hands over her waist and hips. he pulled his clothes back on, before pulling her panties back up, and pulling her over his shoulder. "what are you doing?" she managed to whisper-yell out. "m' gonna clean you up." he responded, she sighed softly, as he lay her down on the basement couch.

he wet a flannel, cleaning her thighs up, his cum still oozing down them. he grabbed one of his t-shirts for her to wear, ushering her to stand up, so he could slip it over her head. he sat lay down next to her, his head on her chest, listening to her heart beat. "you did so well, sweetheart. i'm so proud of you." he spoke, reaching her hand up to his lips, gently kissing her knuckles.

"y/n, where are you?" the two heard a voice shout from upstairs, "you can't fucking leave me, you bitch!" he continued. euronymous' eyebrows knitted together, his jaw clenched. "you just let that cunt speak to you like that?" y/n shrugged, a frown visible on her face. "no, fuck no. you're a sweet girl, y/n. i wont let anything happen to you, okay? you're not going anywhere with him, ever again." euronymous stood up, "ronymous' baby, where are you going?" y/n questioned, following after him.

she stopped in her tracks, hearing the yells of her, now ex, boyfriend, and the yells of euronymous. let's just say, her ex never stepped foot in that store again.

i love writing for euronymous, pls send requests!!!

#euronymous #euronymous x reader #dead mayhem #mayhem band #øystein aarseth #sid vicious x reader #mayhem fanart #corruption kink #degredation kink #like #female reader #rory culkin #rory culkin x reader

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eventidesworld · 2 months

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An Important Notice

Almost every time I read a fanfic or see what people say on Tumblr and Pinterest, Inej is perceived as this perfect angel with no flaws and Kaz is the one who needs fixing.

This is really annoying.

Listen, people, Inej is amazing, don't get me wrong. She's one of the best characters in all of literature and I look up to her as a role model, but she's not perfect. She is not a saint or an angel, she's a human. Even she can be stubborn and arrogant from time to time. Let's not forget how she doubted Wylan's demo ability at the beginning of SOC. Her line, "I will have you without your armor, Kaz Brekker, or I will not have you at all," is iconic and I understand the meaning, but it's still a bit hypocritical when you think about it. She's telling Kaz to make himself vulnerable but it's not like she's that open about her own vulnerabilities either.

As for Kaz, the poor baby is almost always painted in the wrong light. He's the one with all the flaws, the one who doesn't deserve anything but misery, and the one who needs fixing. Even if he's just a character, I feel bad and think perhaps sometimes the Grishaverse fandom isn't fair to him. In the books, Kaz told Wylan how he shouldn't feel ashamed of his disability, VERBALLY said that he wanted to give himself up for the Crows, and didn't allow Jesper to use Parem even though it was a very efficient way to gain the victory. He even gave Nina Matthias's share of the kruge despite having the option to take it for himself.

And for Inej, the sweetheart did as much as he could. 😭

He was dead set on saving her at the beginning of CK and stopped at nothing until she was with him again. And his line, "I would have come for you, and if I couldn't walk, I'd crawl to you." He said he would crawl, CRAWL!! Fucking crawl to her, and knowing Kaz, he so would if he had to. And then he liquidated all, not some, all of his assets, every single cent, he gave it all up for her. To fully free her from the Menagerie. In the end, he bought her a ship, found her parents, and even went as far as taking off his gloves and holding her hand for a long time IN PUBLIC!!!! At the harbour where anyone could see. In fact, he's the reason why she's where she is in the first place. He got her out, gave her a knife, and made her dangerous. He gave her the freedom to grace the rooftops in the dead of night and haunt the streets. He gave her the option to leave if she wanted. HE LOVED HER TO THE POINT WHERE HE LET HER GO BECAUSE HER HAPPINESS AND DESIRES MATTER MORE TO HIM THAN HIS OWN!!!

He's not that bad okay. I know he's very flawed and traumatized, but he's got a very big heart, he just doesn't show it. He gave Jesper a place to go, provided Wylan with protection, and allowed Nina and Matthias to reunite. He formed the plans for the Ice Court and ended Van Eck and Pekka Rollins while doing his best to ensure that the Crows would stay alive. But still, he's the only one who has to fix himself. Some fans still think that he isn't worthy of Inej. Meanwhile, Inej is the perfect, flawless angel. I thought people didn't like a Mary Sue. And Inej isn't a Mary Sue, she has flaws, she has weak points, and she has things that she needs to work through as well.

For those of you who read all this, thank you for sparing some time.

#kaz brekker #grishaverse #six of crows #inej ghafa #third army #kanej #crooked kingdom

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writerlyhabits · 2 years

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Shine and Polish

Pairing: Din Djarin x reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Request: "Din catches you cleaning/polishing his armor for him (something usually only done between courting Mandos) and gets all shy explaining the implications to you send tweet"

Warnings: mild language, mature themes, Din in sweatpants, I think that's it?? Idk it's a short one

AN: I want to formally apologize to all of you who sent Din requests to my inbox that have been sitting there for a while, I promise I see you, I just had such a hard time finding the right motivation and inspiration for these pieces. Hopefully I can get the others pumped out in a decent timeline as well 🤞 Thanks @deceiverofgodss for bullying me into working on this, ily 💛 I hope you guys enjoy!

The beskar armor was a large part of his intimidation. It widened his frame – which was admittedly big enough without it – making him bulkier, heavier, a force to be reckoned with. It represented the history of warriors before him, Mandalorians through generations maintaining their reputation of being a people you don’t come back from a fight with. The dark visors and emotionless helmets only helped on that front, he couldn’t even count how many people had tried to back their way out of trouble with one silent look from him.

Each beskar’gam was unique to the Mandalorian wearing it, and they take special care to make sure it looks as intimidating as wearing it makes them feel. Some go out of their way to paint their beskar, symbolizing their journey with specific colors and designs of their heritage. For Din, it’s keeping the pure metal shined and polished – it turns heads and sends a whisper through the crowd at the mere sight of him.

It takes a lot to keep it that way.

He’d had to get his new armor after the Mud horn, but getting out the mud caked into the rest of it had taken much longer than he cared to admit. Being swallowed by the Krayt Dragon and then walking through the Tatooine desert had left him scrubbing the dried goo from crevices he didn’t know existed for hours after you and the kid had fallen asleep. And now, he could only imagine the hassle it would be getting all the blood that kriffing Nexu had gotten all over his armor.

Din was damn near ready to collapse when you all had gotten back to your room at the inn, but he could feel the dirt and grime that was building up underneath his flight suit. He watched you launch Grogu into the air a few times, hugging him close as you flopped down onto one of the small beds, and sending a wink Din’s way.

You were a saint. With the kid nestled into your arms and properly distracted, he began stripping off his Beskar and setting it down on the caf table. He’d have to get to it after he got out of the ‘fresher. One more glance over at you, smiling to himself as little green hands grabbed your cheeks to try and escape your barrage of kisses, and he slipped into the bathroom.

The reflection looking back at him in the mirror was rough, to say the least, but when the hot water pounded into his skin the rest of the galaxy faded away.

It felt like heaven. He let it run across his face as he tried to revive his hair, though he didn’t know what difference it would make, it would be flattened under the helmet again once he stepped out. The pressure of the water worked wonders on the knots in his shoulders. He’d have to find a way to get those out sooner rather than later. Maybe he could sweet talk you into helping… He could just imagine how your nimble fingers would feel gliding across his skin, easing his muscles, gripping his shoulders while he-

No. That was enough of that. Dangerous territory Djarin, keep it together.

You’d been traveling with Din for… well, it had been a long time now. You’d been with him through thick and thin, been there well before he’d picked up a strange bounty from an imperial imp, and fallen in love with the little green bounty just as much as he had. And after having lost the kid and gotten him back, a handful of times Din had still yet to tell you how he felt. At least, not in a way you’d be able to pick up on.

Each day that passed where he would choke on his words, he watched you instead. He knew what would catch your eye as you walked through the markets on rural planets, he knew your favorite foods and could tell what you would get for yourself – often before you did. He knew how to read your body language as well as you had come to read his, and you were so in tune with each other that it felt as if you’d known each other your whole lives.

So why couldn’t he just fucking say what he meant? Instead, he stood by your side and watched as that pretty smile formed on your cheeks, watched your eyes sparkle in the starlight, watched you smother Grogu in loving affection… All he ever did was watch.

He wanted to take your hand for more reasons than pulling you along behind him, he wanted to do it for no reason. He wanted to stand too close and put his hand at the small of your back, brush his bare thumb across your cheek to comfort you, hold you close to keep you warm late at night. He wanted to run his hands over all your curves, see your pupils blown wide as you looked up at him, feel you quiver beneath him as he-

Dank farrik, cut it out. Din turned the water ice cold to shake himself of the thoughts, pushing them back into the corners of his mind where they belonged. He couldn’t afford to think of you like that, not while he kept watching without saying a damn word about how he felt.

He took his time leaving the room that was now filled with humid air and steam from his shower. It had made it easier to clean the blood that had splattered on his helmet, polishing it to look as clean as he felt. He dressed in a fresh set of lounge clothes – an investment he’d made at your insistence, and one he’d thanked you for every time the soft clothes draped against his skin – and placed the helmet back on his head, ready to face the rest of his party once again.

With you, he was prepared for anything. He loved your wild spirit, a shining beacon of your warmth in a galaxy that was otherwise cold and unkind. What he wasn’t prepared for was to see you sitting on the floor with his beskar in your hands, half of the pieces on the caf table having been cleaned and polished.

It was times like these he was thankful he was hidden behind the helmet, because his cheeks were burning in an incriminating shade of red.

“I like your pants, Din,” you smiled, only looking up from his shoulder piece to give him a playful smirk. And was that..? Of fucking course it was the one with his signet. Cause that’s what he needed right now. “Those the really soft ones I convinced you to get on Naboo?”

“I- yeah… they’re uh, nice,” he managed, feet rooted to the spot, unable to take his eyes off of the way you were being so delicate with his armor.

“Oh, they’re nice. Well, aren’t you chatty.” Any other time, he might’ve laughed. Currently, his brain was rewiring itself. His lack of response must have been noticeable because now you were setting your rag aside and giving him a concerned look. “Is everything okay?”

If ever there was a loaded question, that would be it.

“Yeah, just fine.” A cock of your eyebrow told him that you didn’t believe him, but he couldn’t seem to get any words of consolation out of his mouth. A few more beats of silence passed, Din tried swallowing the lump in his throat a few times, and then he saw something in your expression shift. You were figuring it out… Your focus shifted back down to the shoulder piece in your hand, drifted to the others on the caf table beside you, and found his again with worry in your eyes.

“Have I done something wrong?”

“No,” he was quick to assure you. “No, you haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Are you sure? I haven’t broken some sacred bond between you and your armor?” His heart was hammering in his chest, but you were still able to get an amused huff out of him, which you had told him were barely audible outside of the helmet. He shook his head to answer your question, and in response, you set the now shining shoulder piece back with the rest of his armor. “Will you tell me what’s going on then? You’re freaking me out.”

Maker, where would he start?

He took a deep breath and decided to take a seat on the floor across from you, leaning against the side of the table. He bent his knees so his feet were flat – grounding him, in a way – his arms rested on top of them. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, possibly giving the appearance that he was relaxing, giving his body a rest. It couldn’t have been farther from the truth.

“When a Mandalorian cleans another’s armor, it’s a representation of trust,” he started, figuring it would be better if he led with an explanation instead of a blunt answer. “The one removing their armor becomes vulnerable, unprotected by their beskar; they are trusting the other with that vulnerability. And as the other polishes the armor they’ve been trusted with, they help prepare them for battle.”

“That’s beautiful,” you whispered, and only then did he dare look at you. A soft smile graced your cheeks, very visibly put at ease at not having made some great offense to his creed.

“It’s… a very common courting ritual.” Your eyes widened, and your lips parted in realization. Din didn’t know if he wanted to grab you, pull you into his lap and tell you exactly what had been on his mind the second he saw you with his armor… or if he wanted to run from the room until you could both forget about this entirely.

He was on the verge of opening his mouth to take it back, to assure you it didn’t always have to mean something that significant – even if that would be a lie – but you beat him to the punch.

“Tell me more,” you lilted, head tilted in curiosity. “What else do courting Mandos do?” His nerves would have done well with a very large glass of spotchka to have this conversation, though having a sober judgment was probably in his best interest.

“Mandalorians are big on hidden meanings, a lot of what we do tends to symbolize something bigger.”

“I’ve noticed,” you smiled, easing his nerves enough to get another small laugh out of him.

“In a way, it’s somewhat similar to any other relationship. Building trust, getting to know each other, spending time together. The difference is in that underlying meaning, our rituals intended to show how together you both will honor the Resol'nare.” He paused to give you a minute to take it in, stop him if you needed further explanation, but your evident eagerness prompted him forward. “They usually represent how you will contribute to the community together, how you will provide for one another. How you will rear children together.”

That last statement made his heart skip and sent an electric shot through his body – and to a part of him that didn’t need to be present in this conversation.

“I guess that makes sense, there’s no Resol’nare in a non-mando relationship, but you still try to figure out how a life together is going to look,” you agreed. “Are most of your rituals like this one? Providing acts of service to your partner?”

“A good many of them, yes. Polishing armor, cleaning weapons…” You were too clever for him to get away with this, he saw the slight tilt of your lips as the same realization hit you both; he always cleaned your weapons for you. Even after he’d taught you how to clean your blaster, he would hold out his hand and make some kind of excuse about it being easier since he was already cleaning his own.

He could recover from this. “Some gift handcrafted weapons, and if their bond is strong enough, those weapons will bear the other’s signet.” He’d yet to give you a mudhorn, that one was easy. Given, there weren’t very many items that had a mudhorn on them in passing, otherwise he might not have been able to resist the temptation. But while he was in the clear, he watched the slight drop in your demeanor.

“Are you allowed to so openly wear someone else’s signet?”

“Not on your armor. But with a weapon, it is a gift that you may carry the other’s signet while courting, not necessarily that you may wear it as your own.” You nodded in understanding, and he waited for that slight knowing smile to come back to your cheeks, and was surprised at his disappointment when it didn’t. He was in the clear, you wouldn’t suspect him…

And maybe he didn’t want that anymore.

“That one is more formal, but there are others to do with hunting and providing,” he said quickly, acting on instinct to try and reel you back in. “A basic, instinctive display of protection; bringing meats and hides from your hunt, preparing their favorite foods…” He couldn’t find the words to continue anymore when your gaze met his visor and softened. You figured him out, and his heart may have been beating in his ears, but he was no less confident in his quiet admission.

“Din?” you asked gently, and he said your name in acknowledgement. “Have you been flirting with me?”

“Yes.” The sparkling smile that spread across your cheeks sent a warm feeling through his body.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I needed time. That was the only way I knew how to do anything about it without making a fool of myself, or ruining one of the few good things that I have,” he smiled, and you turned away from him to hide your own flustered expression.

“That’s not fair! I didn’t know that’s what you were doing,” you laughed.

“That was the point,” he smiled, and you shook your head exasperatedly as your gaze settled back out into the room. He followed your line of sight, landing on the child as he sat happily in the cocoon of blankets and toys you had crafted for him on one of the beds.

Din felt a familiar ache as he watched his foundling, one that longed for these little domestic routines with your mis-matched family. He tried to ignore them because of the desire for you they had a tendency to inspire, despite the fact that no matter what he liked to call you, the three of you were a family in your own way. And yet, this time felt different. It felt comfortable.

He caught your movement in his peripherals, turning his head slightly to find you grinning curiously at him. “Now that I know… how do you feel?” He took a second to inhale before he responded, steadying himself.

“That depends. Other than your piqued interest, I still don’t have an answer to how you feel.” He was sure you saw right through him; he wasn’t an ignorant man, he could assume how you felt based on your response. But he’d done enough of that. Besides, it was your turn to be the one spilling your guts.

“Well… I’ll tell you that now I know where I’ll pick up dinner tonight.”

“That’s not what I-”

“The cantina we passed in town, they have that soup I know you love,” you started, quick to cut him off and make him see your damn point. “I don’t know if it counts because I didn’t prepare it, but that’s the best I can do for now. You’re just gonna have to read between the lines, Mandalorian.” He only stared at you for a few moments, taking in your growing smile, warm and mischievous in a way that was so unique to you.

You were flirting back at him.

You liked him.

Instead of finding words to reply, having used up his usual quota, Din shifted in his place on the floor to reach out for you. Your soft laughter lit up his entire body as he pulled you closer, and you slid into his lap with ease. He could no longer deny himself with your half-spoken admission, giving in to the part of him that needed to have you close as often as he could manage.

Thanks for reading!! If you’d like to be notified when I post a new fic, be sure to follow @writerlyhabits-library + turn on post notifications! 💛

Speaking of, if you wouldn’t mind answering my survey about what you think of my library/taglist system? It’d help me figure out how to reach you guys best. I’d really appreciate it!

#din djarin #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #anonymous #anonymous request #din djarin fluff #kam takes forever to do shit #kam writes #my writing

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nobodyfamousposts · 1 year

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why is everyone always hyping up Ms. Mendeleev as this amazing teacher who takes no bull when she really isn’t? in evil illustrator, Mendeleev sees Chloe picking on Nathaniel and even physically rips his sketch book out of his hands and embarrasses him in front of everyone. but not only is Mendeleev more focused on him drawing in class, she only scolds Chloe but doesn’t punish her for being disruptive. in Marinette’s flashback, when Marinette arrives to class late looking downtrodden, she yells at her in front of everyone instead of waiting until the end of class to talk to Marinette privately. she doesn’t ask her what’s wrong, she doesn’t shut down Chloe’s offensive comments about “looking more depressed than usual” and “she wants to design clothes but can’t keep hers clean”, and she yells at Marinette for accusing Chloe of putting paint on her seat by stating that she had no basis to do so. this woman sure does yell a lot doesn’t she? Mendeleev has zero empathy for her students and has no business being a teacher. if we’re going to call out Damocles and Bustier, she deserves a call out as well.

No no, you have a point. I find I want to argue with you because I'm one of those who likes Mendeleiev substantially more compared to the other teachers, but that's just it: when compared to the other teachers.

Other than Damocles as the Principal, Mendeleiv is one of only three teachers we've been introduced to in the whole of the series. Well, until the Art teacher in season three, but even he has the same issues as Bustier and Damocles of admonishing the other students while saying nothing against Chloe.

Chloe issues aside, Bustier's teaching methods are "nice", but notably useless and not age appropriate. She was shown teaching the class about a fairy tale, and not even a specific one. Just about how a Prince saves a Princess with a kiss, with "true love" being the lesson rather than the literary implications or analysis in what I can only assume is a literature class.

Then there's D'Argencourt, and do I really need to get into this guy?

So I think part of the reason here is that of the very few teachers we've gotten any focus on, Mendeleiev is the only one who has actually ACTED like a teacher. Not the nicest teacher, no, but at least A teacher.

She was admittedly harsh in how she went about things with her students, but she had valid points and reasoning behind what she did.

Nathaniel in Evilustrator was drawing in science class, a subject he is struggling in.

Rose was spraying perfume in class without consideration to the hazards it could cause. Someone could have a health issue. Plus...y'know...the canon problem of the perfume being VERY FLAMMABLE.

And she's the only teacher who has at any point at least scolded Chloe for her behavior. Which given how everyone seems to bend over backwards to appease her or admonish her victims, that's saying something.

Plus out of all the school staff who have been akumatized, Mendeleiev had the most sympathetic reason. Then there's her aborted storyline in the New York Special. So she comes off as a teacher who wants to be liked and do right by her students, even if her way of going about her interactions seems harsh, and I think that's the aspect that the fans have taken notice of.

It stands to reason we've all had a teacher like her in our lives. Strict. No nonsense. Didn't let us get away with anything. And it also stands to reason that having that teacher in real life made us dread that class.

So yes, Mendeleiev is no saint. But she at least IS a teacher who ACTS like a teacher. A strict teacher who takes no excuses and seems more impartial (at least when compared with Damocles and Bustier who make it quite obvious they're under Chloe's thumb even if it's in different ways and for different reasons). She could do with some education on empathy and communicating with her students. But she's still at least doing her job as an educator to teach them.

At least until the writers ruin her just like they ruin everything else because they saw what the fandom came up with and decided we can't have nice things.

#ml salt #ml analysis #ms. mendeleiev

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irradiatedsnakes · 1 month

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hi so i’ve been following you for a little (mostly because of dinosaurs and mechanisms) but i’ve been curious about this and don’t really know where else to ask, how do you find dinosaur references? i’ve been wanting to start drawing some dinos again but really have no idea where to go for references or inspiration.

my go-to's are skeletal references and 3d models!

for skeletals, the gold standard is scott hartman's. he's done sooo many and they're all very good- you can find them on his website here. https://www.skeletaldrawing.com/

i do think his life reconstructions tend to be on the shrinkwrapped side, but his skeletals are great.

for skeletals, gregory s. paul is another great resource. if you can find a physical or digital copy of the princeton field guide to dinosaurs, it has skeletal references for a LOOOOT of dinos.

greg paul's life reconstructions should also be taken with a grain of salt- shrinkwrapping and pronated hands abound. his taxonomy is also notably controversial (he's the lead author on that tyrannosaurus regina/rex/imperator paper from a while back..), so double-check the genus/species names you're referencing.

(he also has the princeton field guides to marine reptiles and pterosaurs, but i haven't read those so i can't comment. haven't heard great things about the pterosaurs one, though- if you want pterosaur references, go for pteros.com, pterosaur.net, and mark witton's "pterosaurs" book)

now for 3d models- skeletals are all well and good, but if you're not drawing a dinosaur from the side their usefulness can be limited. sketchfab is my go-to to find 3d reference. i look for skeletons/skulls from museums that have been digitized, mostly-

but i'll also look for full reconstructions, just reference them in the same way you'd reference any other art piece (with care).

i also sometimes use the video games saurian and prehistoric kingdom? they both allow you to spin around the models of their animals, and their reconstructions are both super good.

lastly is to reference the work of other palaeoartists! this especially fits in for the inspiration part.

here's a few awesome palaeoartists around the internet (tyhank you to billymayslesbian for helping me put these together!)

mark witton

fred wierum (aka fredthedinosaurman)

john conway

alphynix (here on tumblr under the same name)

julio lacerda (this hatzegopteryx image is one of my favorite palaeoarts ever tbh)

joschua knüppe (here on tumblr at knuppitalism-with-ue, i'm especially a fan of his work recreating classical paintings with extinct primates)

and for more cartoony/styilized work:

miquel camiodraws

johan egerkrans

abby howard (here on tumblr at abby-howard)

natalia jagielska

greer stothers (here on tumblr at pangur-and-grim)

nev (saint-nevermore here on tumblr, this picture is one of my favorite palaeoarts of all time)

for some more books, check out all yesterdays by darren naish and john conway, which takes a highly speculative look at reconstructions of prehistoric animals, mostly dinosaurs.

also look at mark witton's the palaeoartist's handbook, which is exactly what it sounds like and i think could be VERY helpful for what you're looking for.

#dropitdoeeyes

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jiminsass-istant · 4 months

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IT'S NOT ABOUT THE HICKEY

This post was triggered by an anon moving around in these spaces trying to explain away the hickey/bite moment as something trivial. I will save my thoughts on the hickey for the end of this post.

First of all, to that anon- Get off your high horse. Not being a shipper doesn't make you superior. You are probably one of those cringey people cancelling queer armies on tw!tter these days. Now readers, sip your drink as you read this short think piece-

OT7 Captains in the fandom bubble:-

I really don't get the superiority complex of so called OT7s who love to live inside this cute little bubble they have created for themselves or as they call it nowadays:- " a curated tl". Cancelling people everyday and actually driving people away from the fandom. Every bio says "multis, solos, shippers dni". What are you afraid of? Little pixels? I have personally followed solo fbs of all members and boy the things I have found! They can get extreme at times, but it takes 2 minutes to fact-check their claims and draw your own conclusion.

I follow wholesome ship pages too, they are a great way to not miss out cute moments between various duos. If you are blocking them out, you'll be swept into whatever the OT7 decide the important interactions are. 🤷

Have y'all watched 'The Social Dilemma' on Netflix? I would actually want all bts fans to give it a watch. A very prominent tech figure admitted that she follows a good number of Tw!tter accounts that disagree with her to ensure that she gets to see all sides and all opinions. When you deliberately 'curate' a timeline to feed only your opinions, to make a 'safe' space that doesn't trigger you, without letting new thoughts penetrate it..THAT! That's the beginning of a cult.

Army is not a cult for defending BTS or for calling out billboard and other big authorities, but army is indeed a cult with the way they move against people within the fandom.

I said what I said.

With a curated 'OT7 captain' timeline, you start internalising things about the artists that the people you follow want to believe:-

1. All true army are OT7 and non shippers. 💫💫

Sure some of them are. But biases exist for a reason, right? If you think people don't run their bias's playlist more than the other 6, you are so deluded. Spotify wrapped'23 was a prime example. With the solo era, the rise of solo fanbases was unavoidable.

2. Your favourites are spotless, impeccable people. 💌💌💌

They are so not. They date, they make mistakes, they hurt people (like we all do). Heck, they might even offend certain groups of people, unknowingly or knowingly. Being ignorant is also a flaw.

3. Everything they say on camera is true.🙊🙊🙊

Everything they say on camera is what they want you to know. As Park Jimin of BTS, as Kim Namjoon of BTS and so on. And yes, your perception of them should be built based on their words alone, but it doesn't mean that you purposefully stay blind in a way that serves your personal projections onto the members. As Jimin once said " please take our words as they are"(Festa 2022). Read between the lines, and you get- "please do not make assumptions about us, please do not project past or future narratives onto us." No matter how much it makes BTS look like a saint, DO NOT paint them as perfect human beings just because they are your idols.

Once you get into the fandom bubble, you start rejecting all opinions that threaten to puncture that perfect bubble. In that process, you end up never getting to know about how some member promotions were horribly managed, how company delayed certain stuff, the obvious company agenda and different business strategies for different members. It's not about victimising members, but calling out the company when they make obvious mistakes. You do not see when hate against a particular member gets aggravated to the point it affects streams and sales.

And musical preference? The way the fandom just collectively decided that if you hate any song except 'ON ft Sia", you are basically an anti. I have no words.. I'll come out and say: I don't like DNA. SORRY JIMIN. Sure it's a great concert song, or maybe at a party, but it's never making it to my down-time personal playlists. Cancel me?

Top Social Artist?

This is my personal opinion. BTS having a huge presence on social media is both a boon and a curse. While it ensures that new fans are made everyday, the bts social media presence is an uncontrolled monster right now. Millions of insta, YT channels- most of them spreading a superficial image of BTS. It's for this reason, there are so many 'fans' out there who just love BTS for the few members and their visuals. I can guarantee you that they don't even know how streaming works, but they'll be sure to have an insta name like "mrs.jeon jungkook". If you made it to this part, I don't need to tell you how certain ships inducted their shippers through these very channels, spreading misinfo about the group dynamics and a completely manipulated idea of the boys, as if it's not real life, but some shitty bl drama.

While the company is obviously doing nothing about this mess, it is YOUR duty to focus on what's important as a fan and participate in projects that plan to counteract this mess. ( Of course only if you have time)

So..what does the hickey have to do with all this?

When you finally grow out of your perfect pure breed OT7 agenda, who considers this group of men a picture perfect family who can do no sin, you'll be ready to view the hickey/bite mark as a normal functioning member of the society who's in touch with reality.

Did I just write "pure breed"..

Let's say the hickey/bite does not actually mean anything intimate in a romantic sense. Sure. Even I think it was probably not an exclusively romantic thing. And this is coming from someone who ships them, but I do not see them as 2 people who are dating each other (because I don't claim to know their personal lives).

An older person biting the neck of a younger person long enough to leave a mark is NOT A NORMAL LEVEL of skinship. For friends, for family, for brothers. And this goes for Korea as well as at a global level. Not only k-jikookers but also k-armies had raised eyebrows when that happened. If you didn't raise your eyebrow at this, you need to go out more, have a social life, hang out with long term friends, idk.

But I'm sure if it was a man and a woman, you would have already declared that they are f@cking.

If you have observed jikook through the years, they have had an abnormal level of skinship that even surpasses skinship within their own group. Reminds me of the Butter photoshoot behind, where JK's hands so naturally slid under JM's crop top, like it was a usual thing. Now if one of them reacted differently or in a goofy way, I'd still brush it under the rug. But what had me scratching my head was the indifference. How close do 2 people have to be, for someone to SEARCH for familiar skin to touch?! Let's not forget how JK always touches JM's neck like a habit, massaging, holding, or just caressing, usually a little inside the collar.

Now if they were a man and a woman, you would have already declared that they are f@cking.

If you don't at the very least, acknowledge that it's an abnormally high level of skinship, and that jikook are at the very least, a highly interdependent, symbiotic, close, 2 souls-1 body entity, the closest duo in bangtan..then you are the delulu here. 🫵

I would advice such anons to stop visiting shipping spaces if you are bringing nothing to the table. (As I always say, opposing views are always welcome as long as you bring receipts and not hate). Maybe spend some time talking to real life people, couples, friends, you know?

#jikook #kookmin #fandom culture #bts army #bts #bangtan sonyeondan

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jacevelaryonswife · 1 year

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What a wicked thing to do (to make me dream of you) | Part I

Aemond Targaryen was a shitty snob and you were determined never to see him again, however, he didn't seem to share the same feeling.

∴pairing: modern!Aemond Targaryen x nanny!reader

∴warnings: elitism and slight angst.

part II

Aemond Targaryen was a man of sophisticated and understated tastes, an assiduous collector of books and historical objects, a connoisseur of aged wines and gothic aesthetics. He was quiet, observant, polite, intelligent, handsome, well dressed and very intimidating. Because of these — and other — characteristics of your boss's brother, Rhaenyra Targaryen, your relationship with him was almost nonexistent. Not that the others were too close to you, but there was an intrinsic fear that snaked through your body when he was in the same room as Aemond.

The Targaryen mansion had a modern architecture with mostly surrealist paintings, although works of other artistic currents could be observed along the corridors and rooms. It was not your first choice of work, but the decision to look for a job during the graduation vacation was totally based on the high cost of living in another country. It all started with an exchange scholarship that turned into an irresistible proposal for a master's degree, which made you look for some options to stay comfortable and safe. Your first job was at a lovely flower shop that sold flowers in temperate climates, a dream come true, but when the offer to work as a nanny for two children in a mansion a few days a week with an alarmingly high salary, besides, your friend, who was friends with Rhaenyra's eldest son made strong recommendations of you (even though you don't have that much experience with children), fuck you agreed without a second thought.

Your employers were kind, though neutral, and when the family was together in full some unusual situations happened. However, along with your vacations came those of Aemond, and gods, it was almost suffocating to be in the same place as him, because although his qualities were attractive, the Targaryen knew how to be pretentious, arrogant, acidic, hot — tempered and indifferent — the last of the defects was almost always directed at you, while the others were restricted to his older brother Aegon and his uncle Daemon.

Otherwise, while you struggled to remain invisible, hanging out with the incredibly wealthy and dysfunctional Targaryens, Hightowers, and Velaryons was smooth and functional. Until one day everything changed. It was not uncommon for you to observe the paintings arranged impeccably on the gray wall, however, a well-known work caught your attention: Saint-Georges majeur au crépuscule, by Claude Monet. It was always a painting that captured your attention for a long time, apparently, the orange tone involved you more than enough to make you not notice it’s arrival, not that it was very easy to notice, since it was quite silent. But then, stopping in the middle of the hall, the owner with gray hair and violet eyes announced his presence with a simple question.

“Do you like it?"

Your indiscreet jump and hand directed to your chest didn't do much to hide your surprise (or fright), feeling too embarrassed to continue maintaining eye contact.

“Yes I like it.”

“Claude Monet, 1908, one of his best in my opinion,” he said.

“I know,” you replied faster than you intended, but with the tall man's curious look, you had to add, “I don't have artistic background or understanding, but I'm quite fond of impressionism.”

You clasped your hands together as you stared at the picture ahead, feeling like you might succumb right there. You didn't want to feel like a fool, so you silently listened to the guttural “hmm” he let out in response.

The lack of dialogue along with your flaring nerves made you say goodbye to him with a brief and hurried “Excuse me.”

Your memory does not include when you felt that way with someone, although it was a recurring feeling since you started working in an environment far beyond (financially speaking) your reality. You hated running away like a scared mouse, however, the feeling wasn't mutual to Aemond, who was almost delighted with your reaction.

That was the first time he noticed you, even if it was an unusual situation. He almost felt guilty about the way you ran, but who was he kidding? He liked your bewildered eyes and frightened expression, too nervous to face him or converse the way she had with Aegon, Jacaerys, and Helaena. A pretty girl, he thought, with fast-fashion clothes and unfinished nails, yet pretty, and a bit of an art knowledge. It was no exaggeration to say that from that day on, the second son of Viserys Targaryen took more notice of your presence.

You weren't the only helper in the house, but your job was restricted to stay with the kids, which made Aemond's peeks easier, as there were specific days and places where your silhouette would be restricted. He didn't know why of such sudden interest, you were just a maid. Yes, you attended the same college as him and had some publications in scientific journals, but still, what was it magnetic or different that attracted you?

Worse still, was he so indiscreet that Aegon caught wind of it and confronted him about it? Seven hells.

“So, did you miss something in the nanny's ass, bro?”

“That question could be asked of you,” he replied.

“But it is being done to you.” When the lack of response hit him, Aegon insisted, “What happened to the exemplary son and mama's boy? What will mom think when she hears you were about to eyeball our good maid?”

“Fuck off, Aegon,” he complained irritably, embarrassed actually. But he was Aemond Targaryen, losing a point to his older brother was not an option. “You should learn a thing or two from her since even the motherfucking babysitter can have some cultural understanding and you don't…”

“Wow, and they say I'm the idiot,” Aegon replied.

“You know what I meant.”

“Exactly, and that's why I meant what I said. So is it unusual for a nanny to be cultured? Please, that's why you don't have any friends.”

“And that's why I'm academically successful and I don't have to deal with you."

“Being a fucking snob? For sure."

“I wasn't being- you know what, take what you want, just get the fuck out of my face,” Aemond snapped.

“As you wish."

Although you both thought you were alone, by an unpleasant choice of fate you ended up listening to the entire conversation and imagine your surprise? It was something you hoped would happen eventually, but how small is it for someone to define a person by their profession or social class? You shouldn't be saddened that apparently your job as a nanny makes you culturally inferior in the eyes of Aemond Targaryen, but a few humiliated and embarrassed tears fell from your eyes before you silently withdrew.

That day your service was finished faster than usual, leaving the mansion discreetly and hastily. Other stray tears negatively graced your face along the way home and during your rest period. Thoughts about quitting your job were running through your head.

Bullshit, you needed the damn money.

But what is the cost?

Among other questions, the only thing you knew was the distance you would keep from Aemond Targaryen from then on, not even a stolen look, fear or secret admiration, all you felt for him was disgust. You hated snobs, and apparently he was one.

For the next few days you did your best not to meet him, or give him a look, though from what he had said about his condition earlier it was unlikely the Targaryen would mind his presence to notice any difference. Otherwise, you had no problems doing your chores and dealing with some other family members.

However, much to his mistake, Aemond continued to watch you as you played with little Aegon and Viserys throughout the manor. Again, he didn't know the source of the interest, but that afternoon (two weeks after it happened) when you spent too much time in the library with the little ones, he decided to act.

This time you noticed someone enter silently, making your heart sink. Somehow your subconscious suggested that the presence corresponded to the one you tried so hard to avoid, yet that didn't stop you from continuing to read a children's primer from the fancy wooden shelf without letting on your knowledge that you weren't alone.

He didn't know if you were oblivious to his presence or if you ignored him on purpose, so he decided to make himself seen.

“The section you're clearing contains the history of Old Valyria, from rise to fall," he began unrequitedly. “Have you read any of them?”

“The fall of Old Valyria.”

“The Untold Version?”

“More Believable Theories.”

“Hm.” In no time you turned to face him, generating a certain discontent in the platinum. Your answers were quick and dry, without trepidation or fear, intriguing him. “There are a few books by Septon Barth that I recommend reading, most notably Dragons, Wyrms, and Wyverns: Their Unnatural History.”

“Thank you,” was all you said.”

He really didn't like that. Were you purposefully ignoring him?

“I can borrow mine if you like, it's in better condition than the one in the library," he suggested.

“I appreciate your kindness, but you don't have to."

“No problem."

“I don't intend to read,” you said, “I have no such fascination with dragons. Besides, maybe a nanny like me doesn't understand Septon Barth's far-fetched text.”

Oh fuck.

The silence that followed didn't stop you from continuing your service, while Aemond didn't take long to associate what you were referring to.

“Aegon told you?”

“No, I was close at the time.”

“…didn’t mean to put you down.”

“Really? It seemed that my condition as an employee did not allow me to have a cultural background, as you say. Not that I'm the most cultured person in the world, but yes, I understood perfectly what you meant.”

He sighed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you-"

‘I’m working, sir, if you have nothing else to say I would like to continue my work."

The shortness of breath that hit your body in the first conversation you had with him was replicated in the Targaryen upon hearing his response, almost paralyzed in place.

“I really didn't mean to offend you. I just understand that not everyone has access to the education and culture that money can offer.”

“Indeed, money restricts most of the population from having a quality education, but it does not mean that only the rich represent the apex of knowledge and holders of all culture, I can cite some examples from my life that contradict this.”

Aemond Targaryen was a shitty snob and you were determined never to see him again, however, he didn't seem to share the same feeling. Nobody ever spoke to him like that, not even his ex Alys. He was studying History at Citadel University, top student in his class, yet how could he be so blind and elitist?

“But that doesn't matter, as next week we won't continue to live together."

Fuck fuck fuck fuck. The vacation had come to an end. No, he couldn't let you go like that, he didn't want to keep such a negative image about himself.

“I-I… fuck I'm not… I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I was stupid, I shouldn't have said that—I shouldn't have thought like that. Your thinking is correct.”

“Good for you.”

He knew better that keeping trying wouldn't get him anywhere, so he decided to lower his head and silently withdraw from his presence. You didn't mention anything to Rhaenyra when you said goodbye to her, as all in all, one negative moment couldn't define all the positive experience you had. In the end, even studying at the same institution as Aemond, its departments and buildings were different and far from each other, besides that you very much doubted to attend the same social cycle as him.

Although that fact was reassuring, that week the slender platinum figure did not leave your mind, always churning your stomach in disappointment and anger during the flashes of your last conversation. You agreed that only time would make you forget that inconvenience, but what you didn't know was that for Aemond such a mistake was unforgivable, and worse, you, the simple nanny, couldn't get out of his head.

— ewan taglist: @schniiipsel @aemonds-fire

#aemond x you #Aemond Targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #prince aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #modern aemond #modern #modern aemond targaryen

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morinuu · 4 months

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☀︎｜tamaki x female reader drabble. you're a client and jealous asf. pining for tamaki lol. angst? maybe. mention of nsfw but nothing's reealllyyy happening. also u have ear piercings & you know haruhi's a girl.

your hands trembled a bit as you stared at the butter knife in held between your fingers, stopped mid-action from spreading the jam on your bread any further.

ouran had the tendency to make you feel lonely, rejected. generally... unhappy.

although there was one thing existing within the grand corridors of ouran that shone like the sun, blinding, immediately burning all of those emotions away. a tall boy whose smile seemed contagious, never failing to make your chest feel fuzzy and warm, as if you'd met a saint before entering heaven.

his blond hair almost radiated a halo surrounding his head, one you could never help but stop and admire.

but you knew you wouldn't be entering heaven, not when you couldn't defeat the disgusting, vile jealousy that sat in your throat whenever his hands would pat her head. or when his words would compliment her 'cuteness! purely adorable manners!' and whatever else he found just delightful on her.

so maybe he wasn't actually burning the negative emotions away. perhaps he was replacing them with others, and not with better ones.

it took a while before you realised tamaki suoh had been waving his hand in your face to bring you back to the conversation.

"miss yn?"

you blinked your thoughts away and looked back at the boy in front of you. with a quick cough to clear your throat, you nodded at the boy and finished spreading the jam on your toast.

"sorry, what were you saying?" you asked with a gentle voice, trying to seem unaffected by the thoughts occupying your brain viciously.

you didn't want to think you disliked haruhi, because she wasn't a bad person. nor had she done anything wrong. she wasn't the problem.

tamaki was.

he and his stupid amethyst-like orbs that sparkled in the sun under the cherry blossom trees during that shitty event the host club was partaking in. his long slender fingers that didn't hold a single scratch on them, proving just how little they'd physically struggled. his delicate pale neck that would be painted a bright pink whenever haruhi did anything.

he was the damn problem.

because you wished his eyes would stare down at you lovingly instead, while his pretty fingers swiped up your folds and played with your clit, his neck and ears flushed because he was rutting his hips on you, panting because of you.

haruhi wasn't to blame if tamaki refused to smear your lipbalm by kissing and licking your mouth in the changing rooms before he had to entertain another client.

so why was she such an irritating sight?

"is everything okay, dear? you haven't finished your tea yet and our date's almost over. that's unusual for you." he frowned slightly and moved a bit closer to you, brushing your hair out of your face to caress your cheek tenderly, as though you were to break.

you always would take the opportunity and lean into his palm, closing your eyes a bit to pretend that any of it was real. he made it seem real every time. and every time you fooled yourself without failure.

'he remembered my tea order!' last week.

'he noticed my haircut!' the month before.

and all those other small, teeny tiny specks of attention he paid to you - they all contributed to your delusions.

"everything's fine, tamaki. i'm just a bit tired. thank you for asking." you assured him and thrived in the feeling of his warm hand on your cheek for however many seconds he'd keep it there before inevitably having to stop.

you wished you could lean just a bit more to the left and peck and bite his fingers as softly as you could.

"if anything is on your mind, remember you can always share it with me, darling. you know i care for you." his hand moved up to caress your ear, the pad of his fingertips tenderly playing with all sorts of different jewellery you'd inserted throughout the surface, before it moved down to your jaw and finally completely separated from your face to rest back on his lap.

oh how you hated (or, tried to at least) his gentle stare and angelic voice that spewed lies in your face shamelessly for money.

that same stupid voice that suddenly got honest and passionate only for the first-year girl disguised as a petit boy.

'liar.'

you shook your head and gave a polite smile, repeating to him that "everything's fine" because you'd rather have the earth swallow you whole than admit your stomach was twisting and turning with raw, sinful envy.

tamaki opened his mouth to say something else, but just before his melodic voice could escape his throat, a yellow dress worn by his next client came into view. 'oh, right. end of appointment.'

"until next time, dear." he chuckled a bit before kissing the back of your hand as farewell.

he might've been called a prince in his club, but your type was always 'the dickheads' as your mum called them. in an ironic way, it made complete sense.

you stared at him walking away while trying to finish your aforementioned tea but to no avail. it was too bitter on your tongue, despite it being your favourite drink of choice, and you couldn't help but feel guilty. because you knew the reason you couldn't stomach it anymore wasn't because it'd gotten cold.

but because just before he went to sit with his next client, he went to check on haruhi.

because he would never turn to look at you the same way - or at all really.

it felt like he belonged to her, with her, and your pathetic attempts at getting closer to him were just an example of you being impudent.

you knew tamaki would never be yours.

and you didn't hate haruhi, but you really fucking wished she would disappear.

#ohshc #ohshc fanfic #tamaki suoh #tamaki x reader #tamaki suoh x reader #haruhi cameo lol #haruhi fujioka #ouran high school host club #ouran host club #angst #ohshc x reader #light angst #fanfiction

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resowrites · 11 months

Text

Upstairs, Downstairs - oneshot (request).

Summary: Henry gets sick and becomes the patient from hell…

Pairings: AU!Henry Cavill x Wife!OC

Warnings: fluff, banter/British humour, language, dialogue heavy, nondescript OC body type/appearance, hastily written/lightly proofread.

WC: 1186

A/N: My work must not be copied, reposted, or translated elsewhere. Likes, follows, reblogs and comments are thoroughly welcome and appreciated! Gifs/pics not my own. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for visiting!

Upstairs, Downstairs - oneshot.

She could hear Henry groaning as she mounted the stairs. Carefully she balanced the tray bearing some toast, her Nintendo Switch she was letting him borrow, and more painkillers. She entered their bedroom as quietly as she could, though Henry still stuck his head up to inspect the food he thought he could smell from the kitchen. "Did you cut the crusts off?" At this, she pursed her lips and dropped the tray onto the bedside table with a clank. The noise made him wince and she couldn't help but smirk.

"Yes your majesty, as well as some more painkillers and my Switch if you're up to playing it." But one look at Henry suggested that was unlikely, his eyes were screwed up against the pain despite the room being in total darkness.

"Tablets please."

"Oh darling, is your headache really no better?" She carefully helped sit him up and handed over the painkillers along with a glass of water.

"It's a migraine." She couldn't help but roll her eyes.

"No it isn't, it's just a bad headache--"

"It's a migraine!"

"Henry, I suffer from migraines myself, you're barely able to move. Now take your tablets and rest, you'll feel better in another hour or two. And it'll serve you right for staring at yourself in the mirror so long--"

"I was shaving!"

"Well try it blindfolded next time, that might resolve the issue permanently."

"Charming, and it wasn't that that did it, I was concentrating too hard painting my Warhammer--" she quickly interrupted, not wishing to get Henry started on the subject of Warhammer.

"Yeah that's fascinating, now take your tablets please."

"You know, this is not very good nursing… you're not even wearing a uniform!" She rolled her eyes again.

"Don't be a perv. And if you want a nurse, hire one. Though at this rate only a saint would cope."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He handed her back the glass and rested his head against the pillow, his eyes closed despite still talking.

"It means I've had to run around after you like a blue-arse fly and I'm nearing the end of my tether. Now have some toast--"

"In a minute, chat to me first." Henry patted her empty spot on the bed.

"Henry, you need to either have something to eat or go to sleep. I'll wake you at dinner, that's if you can still manage to eat…" He opened his eyes just in time to catch her smirk, but his expression suddenly grew more serious.

"… Don't leave." She burst out laughing.

"Henry, you're not a baby! Besides you need to rest."

"But I'm bored!"

"I am not here to entertain you, mister! I have a mountain of ironing to do as well as dinner to prepare." Henry's face became forlorn and for a moment she was genuinely worried. "Here, let me take your temperature…" She removed a thermometer from her pocket and held it up to his mouth.

"Warm it up first." She looked up to the ceiling and held her breath. When she tried again, Henry pulled away slightly.

"Make an aeroplane noise…"

"Henry, I really am losing my patience! Now let me take your temperature or I'll put this thermometer someplace it'll definitely feel cold!" He harrumphed but opened his mouth all the same.

"You know those tablets are no good, they didn't work when I took them earlier--" she shushed Henry, determined to get an accurate reading on the thermometer.

"Mmm… slightly high--"

"See, I told you I was coming down with something!"

"No, you told me you were painting your toys--"

"They're not toys!" She sighed.

"Whatever! Anyway your temperature's only slightly up, you're not feeling sick are you?" She looked at the plate of still-uneaten toast and began to wonder.

"Well, I'd get no sympathy from you either way! Now hand me that toast." She eyed the plate again, tempted to dump it all over him. He took one large bite. "Mmm… it's cold." She turned to go.

"Then chew on it, that'll warm it up."

"Wait! I didn't say you could leave." But the bedroom door slammed shut behind her.

She smiled as she gazed around the living room, both dogs snoozing at her feet. The housework was finished and she could finally put her feet up. It was a rare treat indeed to have a Henry-free afternoon and she was determined to enjoy it. But then her phone pinged. She ignored it and turned up the volume on the tv. Then came another ping. And another. Finally, the phone rang. "What?!" Oh, Henry, I'm trying to relax! Do I really need to come up there?" The phone rang off and she threw it aside, thoroughly irritated as she stomped up the steps. When she opened the bedroom door, he was sitting lower against the headboard, his eyes still closed. "Well?!"

"I need you to fluff my pillows." Her mouth fell open.

"You are kidding?! You made me come all the way up here, just for that?!"

"Yeah, I'm slipping. It's not comfy." She could tell Henry was trying not to laugh.

"Well carry on and I'll bloody smother you! That's if I can find a pillow big enough for that big fat head!" He held a finger up to his lips.

"Shhh… you're talking too loud."

"That's it! You're on your own. I'm not lifting another bloody finger for you…" For the second time that hour, she slammed the door. But just as she was making her way down the stairs, her phone pinged again. She knew better than to read the message, but she also knew Henry wouldn't stop bothering her until she did. Apparently, she'd forgotten something. Her brow furrowed. She was sure she hadn't bought anything up, but curiosity got the better of her and she made her way back towards the bedroom. When she entered the room, he didn't respond. She took a few steps closer, concerned whether he was alright. Suddenly the bed covers were thrown back.

"BOO!!!" She nearly hit the ceiling she jumped so high.

"Oh my God, you stupid twat! You nearly made me shit myself!" She went to grab hold of the bedside table for support but Henry just laughed and pulled her into a hug. "Get off me you silly sod, what did you really want me for?!" She tried to pull free of his arms but he held tight and smiled maniacally.

"I wanted you to take the tray down…" At that moment she could have knocked him out with it. "Oh and can you pick up the remote? It dropped on the floor." Her nostrils flared.

"Anything else, sire?!"

"Just your company m'lady…"

"I take it you're feeling better then?"

"Why don't you join me in here and find out…" Henry wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"I think not! You've been a pain in the arse all day and if possible, I'd like a bit of peace and quiet."

"Madam, you should know that's impossible." She sighed, finally smiling at him. Henry was right, in their household there was no such thing.

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@elizabetharegina @fanfictionaddiction99 @luclittlepond @caffeinatedfestivalsheep @summersong69 @ushijimbo @penneferofvenerburg

#henry cavill #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill imagine

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draagu · 11 months

Text

yo! if you are seeing this these are kind of outdated

I am meaning to update these, but for now if you want the most recent designs you can try searching for any previous art. but! I do not mind at all if you use these versions for art!!

ive done it once again >:D, individuals and notes below: (long)

survivor! an all around skilled slugcat. they took on a lot of survival instincts in their attempts to find their family again. they are generally laid-back, but joke around every now and then. their left arm is severely hurt from either the fall or a scuffle with a lizard (or even a mistake bomb throw (because we all did that, right??)), but can still move, just not at its full force.

nightcat! an extremely smart coder. they are quite shy, but once you get to know them they warm up fast. they have an extreme love for things like cryptids! generally they sneak around the shadows, but occasionally they visit moon (who gave them their scarf! or maybe nsh, undecided) they have a unique talent, that being when then blush they produce little stars sparkles, which survivor finds adorable

monk is an energetic slugcat at heart. they can be calm and serious when its needed, but they love to bounce around and investigate things! once they had saw gourmand crafting a couple times and immediately became invested in becoming their apprentice. they now love to craft and are quite witty at it too. they love to tell survivor the things they learn, which survivor then takes into effect with the limited crafts they know such as bombs and lanterns they have marks on their arms from crafting accidents (they also have a couple lizard pets :D) (considering using monk to represent myself, sort of. slugsona sort of??)

gourmand is an extremely patient and kind-hearted soul. they take the time to help any slugcat they see in need. they took monk under their mentorship to teach them the wonders of crafting, though even monk has been making combinations gourmand could never imagine i tried making them look like a bread loaf (with the lines and everything, but they looked weird) though i hope the warm colors help them seem welcoming!

artificer has an extremely troubled past, the loss of their pups damaged them beyond belief. their reaction is still something im developing, but i think im going in the direction of them sort of blaming themself and becoming almost manic in a way. however! they have a happier present! one of the slugcats (undecided) had found them and worried for their wellbeing, giving them the comfort artificer missed dearly. they still struggle to open themself up to others entirely, but they are working on it they may or may not find their pups again, arti's story is still a draft here buuut they are very close to hunter and gourmand, as well as friends with rivulet and spearmaster they may not also have the best relationship with saint

hunter, a messanger sent from nsh to revive moon, is INCREDIBLY touch starved. they distanced themself from interacting much with other slugcats due to their rot, leading them to be socially anxious as well. they do, however, meet rivulet and spearmaster who help them become more comfortable with interaction. hunter then develops feelings for the both of them and wham pufferfish their bandages were painted over by rivulet and spearmaster with their respective colors :D their pupils are also more like slits compared to the other slugcats

rivulet is a very goofy fish. they have enough energy to last a lifetime. they will never stop building those around them up and creating just an overall positive energy in the room. they love to explore and meet new faces everywhere they go. one of those faces would be spearmaster, who rivulet quickly grew on. they, of course, are very close to moon! as said in hunter's bio, them and spearmaster had come across hunter and yay pufferfish the pearls on their tail represent spear and hunter, both found in shoreline their fins have a slight gradient, though its not required for art :o

spearmaster, created by and close with srs, is a more serious slugcat. their original mission had created an immediate caution instinct to any danger they sensed, and a distaste for five pebbles. they now have a distinct scar on their chest. they communicate via sign language and are very artistic, but are generally less social than the average slugcat. rivulet had helped them meet the other slugcats, but by themself they were never really good at maintaining those conversations. however, if you do get the know them, they are very loveable and soft at heart. the markings on their back sort of represent a fawn in a way, and the bracelets they wear represent rivulet and hunter :D they are also the tallest i may or may not project onto them uh

saint is tired, very very tired. the endless cycle of rebirth they face when trying to ascend has left them annoyed at best. they distance themself from the other slugcats, but they still occasionally try to get saint to join in. saint is close with gourmand they are short but very fluffy. the spots on their tail represent echoes, and the lighter parts of their fur are sort of like snow? markings? they are a little chilly idk their paws are different colors (left and right) they also take a particular connection to lotus flowers

enot is just yeah, they try their best lol. essentially like they act in the dating sim, they just want love. Though this enot isn't constantly going after it. They like to goof around more than that tbh. their design is the same as before i kinda just changed the darkest blue a little. they managed to befriend nightcat, who they goof around with every now and then

also they have eyelashes purely because I asked my friend who likes enot if they want to give them a trait and they said lashes so! aaaaaaaaaaand thats it wow

#rain world #survivor #monk #nightcat #gourmand #artificer #hunter #rivulet #spearmaster #saint #enot #goodness #rain world downpour #rain world art #rain world fanart #i think if i ever do change a design ill just edit this post

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