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nickyhemmick · 3 years

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A Very Stressed American Jew here again,

Hi! Thank you for taking the time to respond to my ask and yes, I’m someone who loves hearing as many perspectives as possible so I’d love some sources from you. I also very much appreciate the fact you are being very careful to only reblog posts that are anti Israel, not antisemetic (which is frankly a breath of fresh air, the internet has been a bit exhaustingly full of both antisemitic & Islamaphobic content these past feel days as I bet you’ve seen)

I’ve also been to Israel on a Birthright trip. We met people who ( both Palestinian and Israeli) on various sides of the conflict and learned a ton about it, from both perspectives which I was lucky to have the opportunity to do. We even went a little into the Gaza Strip to talk to these people running a pro Palestine peace movement and it was so important to me hearing those stories.

I never said they were on equal footing militarily, they definitely are not, Israel definitely has that advantage. But you are incorrect about Israel always being the aggressor since 1948,they’ve defended themselves about as often as they’ve attacked. Isreal is a small country comparatively to the ones surrounding it, so it makes sense it defends itself heavily in case of an attack.

I 100% agree that there are too many people who are compliant with the mistreatment of many Palestinians! I’m not anti #freepalestine at all! I get why that is a thing. But I also stand with Israel( but that does not mean I condone every action they take. ) Overall I think the situation is extremely complicated and some sort of compromise should be reached.

It’s just been very frustrating to see so many people reblog things on a situation just bashing Israel because so many others are doing it. Especially when then don’t know what they are talking about or using big buzz words that they don’t know what they mean, or spreading misinformation. It’s been on both sides and has been very very draining. I just want peace and some sort of solution. It makes me extremely happy you know what you are talking about and can debate politely yet happily about it. The internet has been so ‘ either agree with me 100% or you a bad person’ about this so it’s refreshing to see you are not like that.

I’ve done a lot of research into it from as many perspectives as I can get my hands on.

Some extremest Israelis are hurting Palestinians

Some extremest Palestinians are hurting Israelis

Both sides are throwing rockets at each other and it’s terrifying.

Both sides claim the other side is brainwashed

There is so much biased propaganda out there on both ends it’s hard to know what is truly happening.

I know people living in Israel who have sent me videos they’ve taken of rockets flying over there heads and I’m so scared for them. I’m so scared for all the innocent people caught in the crossfire on both sides.

Thank you for a more nuanced response and I’d love some of your sources,

A Very Stressed American Jew

Hi anon,

I wasn’t going to respond to this until after my math final tomorrow but I’ve spent the past two days thinking of your ask and the things I wish to articulate in my answer.

I am going to start here: how can you say you support Israel but say you are also pro-free Palestine (as in, you said you are not anti free Palestine). In my opinion, these two ideas cannot coexist. Simply because, the entire establishment of Israel has been on violent, racist, colonial grounds.

(Super long post under here guys)

You said you don’t support all Israel’s actions, and definitely, just because you support something doesn’t mean you can’t criticize it. However, in my opinion, if you do not support Israel’s actions against Palestinians there’s not much left to support? I admit this is a very biased view as I am Palestinian, but many things that people support about Israel have existed before its creation: as in, these are things and qualities that have existed in Judaism and are not due to “Israeli culture.” There is no Israeli culture. There’s Jewish culture--100%. But there is no Israeli culture, because Israel does not only steal Palestinian land, but Palestinian culture, too. Such as claiming Levant food is Israeli; hummus, ful, falafel, shawarma. I mentioned food from this article I know is culturally and traditionally of the Levant, and has been for centuries, it is not something that has come to culinary creation in the past 73 years.

I do not think this is a complicated issue. I said that in the previous ask and I’ll say that again. Saying it is a complicated issue is trivializing the deaths of innocent Palestinians, the violent dispossession our ancestors endured, and the apartheid they live under. I hope if anything comes from this discussion it is you removing the “it’s a complicated issue” phrase from your vernacular.

This is not complicated. A journalist reporting the death of martyrs only to discover that of them include two of his brothers is not complicated. The asymmetry of Israel vs Palestinian armed forces is not complicated, nor is the asymmetry in Israeli vs Palestinian suffering (which I will get to later). It is not complicated. Destroying the graves of martyred Palestinians (or just in general, the graves of the dead) is not complicated. Little children being pulled from the rubble, children being forced to comfort one another as they are covered in the ashes of their decimated homes, attacking unarmed citizens in peaceful demonstrations (you can find videos before this attack where they were playing with kites and balloons), destroying an international media office and refusing to allow journalists to retrieve the work they are spending every waking hour documenting but claiming it was because it was a hide out for a “Hamas base,” fathers who are trying to cheer their frightened children up only to end up dead the next day, while many Israeli have the privilege and the option to go to hotel-like bomb shelters is not complicated.

This brings me to my next point: the suffering of Palestinians cannot be compared to the inconvenience of Israeli’s. On one side, you have children who are happy to have saved their fish in the face of their homes and lives being decimated behind them to Israeli’s in Tel Aviv having to cut their beach day short to get to bomb shelters. You have mothers and fathers ready to set their lives down for their children to save them from bombs to Israeli’s enjoying their brunch only after making sure there are bomb shelters there. You have Palestinian children being murdered to blocking out the sound of sirens in the safety of your bomb shelters. (The first picture of the Palestinian child is not from footage of the recent problems). You have the baby lone survivor of a whole family recovered from rubble. His whole family, gone, before he ever had the chance to realize that he even exists, while Israeli’s decide to flee out of the country,(Translate the caption from Twitter, it checks out), or have to leave the shower due to sirens. Who is really suffering?

I won’t sit here and pretend like the thought of rockets flying over my head, no matter which side I am on, is not terrifying. It is. It’s scary to just think about. But Israeli’s have protection beyond Palestinian’s, they have sirens to warn them (Israel does not always warn Palestinian building members that it is about to be bombed), they have the Iron Dome, they have simply the threat of nuclear power (which I am not saying Israel would use, but the simple fact they have it would make me feel a lot better if I were an Israeli citizen) and they have bomb shelters. What do Palestinians have? Hamas? That smuggles its weapons through the ocean? That only ever reacts to the action Israel instigates? And yet Gazans are branded terrorists and that it is their fault that they “elected” a terrorist organization that only was ever created due to no protection from any armed country? (There are so many links I want to add in this paragraph but it is simply impossible for me to add everything I want, a lot of what I’m referring to can either be found through a Google search, or you can stalk my Twitter account, all that I am posting now is about Palestine, and will include sources of things I cannot add in just this one post.)

Look, I see myself in the genocide happening in Palestine right now. I see myself in this ten year-old girl. In this three year old girl. I see me and my family in videos of cars being attacked in Ramallah and Sheikh Jarrah (I cannot find the Ramallah video, should be somewhere on my Twitter), I see my father in the countless videos of fathers crying out for their children, of kissing the corpse of their loved ones (again, translate the Tweet, the man holding the body is saying “just one kiss”). I see my grandfather in videos like this (old footage). I see my younger brother, I see my grandmother, my mother, my aunts and uncles and cousins. I see myself and my life and my family were my father not lucky enough to get a scholarship to the UK and out of Palestine, were my maternal grandfather not been lucky enough to make it to a refugee camp and build a life in Jordan. I have an unbelievable amount of privilege to be born into the life I was born in to, in terms of I do not have the threat of bombs and violent dispossession around me, and I do not even live in the US. I have privilege and sheer luck that my parents were able to go to the US so that me and my brothers can be born, because now I have both the protection of the most powerful country in the world while at the same time being part of a people to have suffered so generously the past seventy-three years.

On the other hand, you saying that Israel has “defended themselves about as often as they’ve attacked. Israel is a small country comparatively to the ones surrounding it, so it makes sense it defends itself heavily in case of an attack,” I offer you this question: why are they using military grade guns and stun grenades in mosques to “defend” themselves from rocks? And before you mention that Hamas hit Tel Aviv, I remind you that Hamas did that due to the violence in the Al-Aqsa mosque square and the attempted ethnic cleansing in Sheikh Jarrah. The violence didn’t begin with us; the violence was brought out of Palestinians in resistance to the generations of oppression we have endured and the attack on Palestinian Muslims during the holiest night of Ramadan. Hamas has since asked for a ceasefire multiple times and Israel is refusing. New reports say there is a possibility of a ceasefire in the coming days, but Israel could have decided this a long time ago and spared many lives. (Remember, no matter what resistance we make, Israel is the one in power).

Israel has been the aggressor since 1948. Just read up about the Nakba! 700k Palestinian families were dispossessed violently. The only reason Israel was established at all was because it simply declared it was now a country and the US and many other countries recognized it as such. (Of course, there are many other historical details here, like the British Mandate of Palestine, the Balfour Declaration, the Oslo Accords and many others. I am aware of them but these are for a different post all together). My paternal grandfather was a little younger than me when Israel as a state was created. The hostility that followed was due to this independent declaration being listened to over Palestinian voices.

Here is a very, very simplified analogy, one that can also answer some people’s questions as to why Palestinians (not Arabs, we are Palestinian before we are Arab) did not like what happened in 1948 and why they refused a two-state solution (that Israel was never going to go through with anyway). (I am also aware other Arab nations got involved, and that is perhaps what you mean when you said they had to defend themselves, but my response to that would still be we didn't start it, that we only responded to it).

Let’s say you are a farmer. You have many fields of trees, ones you have taken shelter under from the sun since you were a child, or hid behind when you wanted to avoid your parents when you misbehaved. You have seen your trees grow from a seed, to a sprout, to a flower, to a large, beautiful tree with fruits the size of a fist. You pluck the fruits from one tree, and make a jam from it. I don’t know how to make jam but I know it takes a lot of energy. So, you make this jam and from it, produce a lovely, mouth-watering pie. Once it has cooled from the oven, you take it with you outside your balcony just so that you can admire the years, months, weeks and hours this one pie has taken to be created. Suddenly, a stranger walks past and yells to you, “That pie looks delicious, I want it!” And you, shocked at their boldness but ready to share, say, “I will give you a bite.” But the stranger says, “No! I do not want a bite or a slice or whatever you want to offer me, I want the pie!” And they grab it from you. You and the stranger start screaming at one another about who the pie is for, who is allowed to decide what happens to it, and who you can share it with. Then, another stranger comes by and says, “Why all the problems? Let’s cut the pie in half and the both of you can share it!” But why should you, who has spent years cultivating the fruit and grain inside this pie, share it? Why should you give up half of the 100% that you already owned? Of what you already had? So you disagree, and now a crowd has formed around you. “What’s the problem?” someone in the crowd calls. “They don’t want to share their pie!” another voice says. Then you become branded a selfish, mean bastard. Again, this is a super simplified analogy, so don’t take it too seriously, but I am trying to show you why Israel is the aggressor.

In addition, I do not know too much about the Birthright program, just that American Jewish people are sent to Israel, all expenses paid. I tried my best to find the Twitter thread but I read it so long ago, about an American Jewish person who went on their trip and they talked about the propaganda that they were exposed to on that trip. I can’t say for sure that it is true, because I haven’t been on it and never will, but that is the first thing I thought of when you mentioned your Birthright trip. Either way, I think it is still great you went and saw the country. However, I must ask you this: are the people you met ones you, yourself, sought out, or ones you were organized to meet?

Now, I haven’t been to Gaza, so I don’t know what you really saw or didn’t, but did you speak to Palestinians who lost their homes to airstrikes? Did you speak to siblings, parents or children of loved ones who had been lost beneath the rubble of buildings and towers? Outside of Gaza, did you speak to Palestinians that live in poor quarters? Ones who have been victims of an IDF soldier shooting them, or who have family members who have died from such attacks? Did they take you guys to Ramallah, to Nablus, to Beit-Imreen, to Jenin, to small villages in the West Bank, far away from Jerusalem and Tel Aviv? Did you speak to people there? Ask them their stories? Because if you did I have a very hard time believing you still think Israel is “defending” itself.

I’ve been to Jerusalem, many times, even Tel Aviv and Jaffa and Haifa. All the times I visited Dome of the Rock there were IDF soldiers with huge guns strapped to their person, standing menacingly outside the courtyard. For what? Genuinely, genuinely for what? It is nothing but an intimidation tactic. The same way we are not allowed in through the airport. If you could see the struggle some Palestinians actually go through just to get into Palestine, through the land border, you would be disgusted. I love Palestine, it is my ancestry land, it is my culture and tradition. But I always hated going to visit because I knew the way to getting there would be hell.

My father worked in Tel Aviv through the first Intifada. My maternal grandfather was forced out of his home in the Nakba and was forced to leave behind his belongings and the orange trees that have been in his family for generations. Hell, the town they lived in was destroyed! It doesn’t exist anymore except in the memories of my aunts and uncles, who never even saw it, but just heard of it from their father!

I’m not saying there aren’t Palestinians who are racist and anti-Semitic (though, tbh, I will direct you here for that) and who support Hamas in killing Israeli’s, but talking about how there are many “extremist” Palestinians who are hurting Israeli’s and in the next line say there are extremist Israeli’s who are hurting Palestinians is not correct. There are extremist Israeli’s killing, lynching, stealing the houses of Palestinians, and there are Palestinians who are fed up and fighting back. (I am not talking about Hamas vs the IDF here, I am talking about the citizens). I have not seen one reported death of an Israeli due to Palestinian violence (if you have, from a trusted source, send it to me), but I have seen countless of the other way around. I have seen images of charred little bodies, of a baby being dug out of the rubble, of a child’s body that had been so mutilated that you can literally see the insides of their body coming out. (I don’t know if it’s on my Twitter, I didn’t want to save that shit). If this was my country I would be absolutely ashamed of myself and my people and what they are doing in the name of my protection. So you have to forgive me, and forgive other Palestinians, who don’t give a fuck about Israeli’s having anxiety over rockets flying over their heads when we see these images. Where is the protection of our kids? Why does no one seem to mention them except when mentioning the poor, innocent ones in Israel? At least more than the majority of them have their parents to comfort and rock them. At least many of them will probably be saved of ever having to be beneath the rubble of a destroyed building, or digging in it, to hope to find the parts of their parents or siblings just so that they can bury them. Just the links from the start of my answer is enough to support what I am saying.

I have soooo much more I can say, like how Israel uses religion to distort the image of what’s going on (tbh, just check my Twitter for that: language is EVERYTHING), but you didn’t mention religion in any of this and so I won’t either. The only reason I decided to respond to you in such length was because you have been one of the few respectful anons in my inbox in the past few years of me being on here talking about Israel, so I appreciate that from you.

As promised, some more sources: decolonizepalestine is a good place to start if you haven’t used it already, it has reading materials, myth busting, and more. Here is a map list of destroyed localities from pre-1948 until 2017, run by two anti-Zionist Israelis. Here and here are the articles I promised of a former IDF soldier-turned Palestinian activist, I read these two last year in June and remember coming out much more informed than before I read them. I suggest looking into the writer and his organization, which, if I remember correctly, collects accounts from previous IDF soldiers. I would suggest not to follow Israel and the IDF accounts on any platform, or any Israel times newspaper, simply because they will not tell you the truth. In fairness, you do not have to follow any Palestinian Authority accounts (which I am not even sure there are), but to follow on-ground Palestinians like Mohammed El-Kurd, who has been speaking out since he was 12 (he is now 22) and he is part of the families in Sheikh Jarrah. I have noticed that this and this account have been translating Arabic headlines and tweets for non-Arabic speakers, I have just started following this person but their bio says they are a Palestinian Jewish person so I am interested in their view of things. You can also follow Israeli’s on-ground and see their perspective on things, but I would also advise to compare the Palestinian and Israeli side of things from the people, and critically analyze the language used in each case. Also, this article references Jewish scholars opposed to the occupation (I have not looked into them myself but I plan to after my exams), and Norman Finklestein is another great Jewish scholar to look into if you haven’t. Twitter is better than Instagram and Facebook, so I would stick to getting live-info from there, Twitter does not censor Palestinian content as much as Insta and Facebook so you’re more likely to see things there.

I will end this by saying I personally do not see any other option for peace than to give Palestinians our land back. Whether we may be Muslim, Jewish or Christian, it has always been and will always be our land. I only hope to see it free in my lifetime.

Free Palestine.

#palestine #israel #west bank #tala gets asks #anon #whew this ask took me like 2-3 hours to respond to #pls read it even if ure not the anon #lots of good links and info #palestine tag #anon there are more reading lists in my #to read #and palestine tag tags #check my likes on twitter too if u decide btw not just what i retweet #like also: imagine palestinians around palestine and the world who are simply waiting to hear if their relatives are dead or alive or #have been striked from a rocket. like i can see my father worried abt his friend in gaza rn like any day #now he can just never hear back from him and have to guess hes dead somewhere beneath the rubble #and israelis are anxious at the rocket sounds? good for them but again that shows the asymmetry in #palestinian vs israeli suffering #and by ‘good for them’ i mean good that thats what theyre worried abt compared to palestinians #my aunt is in sheikh jarrah #my cousin lives right by the al aqsa square #again theres so much more i couldve mentioned and talked abt but theres just so much #theres so many LAYERS i wld say but not that its complicated #and definitely theres more i need to learn and read and watch dont get me wrong! i am not a fountain of knowledge by all means!!!!

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fenristheorem · 3 years

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it´s me again u.u! how about lance + begging nsfw please?

You again!? Well goodness, you just can’t get enough of Lance it seems, haha. Don’t worry, I can’t get enough either.

Writing this as a scenario because it’s specific enough to do so 😏

There is begging but it comes in a bit later, there’s a lot of build up to it lol.

*Note: This is an nsfw ask so it will include detailed sex scenes and - considering it includes begging - very kinky sex. Don’t read if you feel you won’t be comfortable with this subject. Minor swearing. Also, this starts off immediately in the thick of it, so don’t start reading until you’re comfortable (and alone) lol.

I usually write with the term Guardienne due to the neutrality of it, but it seems a bit... weird? for Lance to be saying that instead of an actual name in this case (since Guardienne isn’t an ‘actual name’), so I’ll substitute with the name Erika to give more flow(?) to the situation.

~Under the cut~

Lance + begging nsfw (+ bondage as discussed, and blindfolding because it’s wonderful - and let’s face it, Lance wouldn’t beg if he can do something about it so the man would need to be helpless):

Aged ropes - worn well from years of use elsewhere - creaked dangerously as Lance flexed his arms and tensed his body. His back arced and hips lifted slightly off the bed as he snapped his eyes shut and panted. He wasn’t entirely sure how he ended up in this situation - his thoughts were cloudy and wouldn’t allow him to think that far back and in detail, especially with the slick, velvety pair of lips that sucked delicately at the skin between his thigh and ball sac. His hardened cock twitched and he groaned lowly as her tongue lapped his skin for a moment before she pulled away.

Released now from the rippling pleasure, he breathed out and relaxed, nearly ashamed at how sensitive he had become. Sure, he was prone to succumbing to sensual physical touch quite easily, but he rarely displayed this much sensitivity at this intensity. It seems like she must have caught him on a good night.

The female pulled away to gaze at the man underneath her - lacking all articles of clothing and looking more gorgeous than ever as a thin layer of sweat slowly manifested on his skin. Powerful, scarred arms reached up towards the headboard, wrists bound tightly in musty old rope that seemed to be just barely withstanding his strength. It was faintly frayed in a few areas, and hopes that it would last the night passed through her mind. Lance broke the last one they used; it was thinner and was braided differently than the one they were using now, but newer than this old rope. However, the vendor at the market selling rope was closed today, and her their patience couldn’t last through the night, so they had to make due with the dubious old rope she found way deep in the guard’s stores until tomorrow came, where she could buy another stronger rope. Fortunately this one seemed to be holding for now, but it was completely unknown on if that would remain.

Her eyes trailed over Lance’s wrists - not rope-burned thankfully, but definitely unable to escape unless the rope broke. His circulation looked fine based on his skin tone, and as her gaze trailed back down again she couldn’t help but admire the thick veins that wound down his forearms. She threw a glance at his burning icy eyes - narrowed in a glare of pleasure and irritation - as she climbed over him, straddling his abdomen before flicking her gaze to his parted lips and then back to his eyes.

“What do you want?” Her voice was a low, husky murmur as she stared enticingly into the dragon’s eyes, shifting to rest her hands on his broad chest and accentuate her naked breasts.

His gaze twitched as she did so, but he didn’t leave her eyes as he narrowed his further and growled deep within his chest, almost so that she could feel the reverberation underneath her palms. The dragon’s answer was clear.

“What do you want me to do?” She asked again, her head tilting slightly and hair spilling over her shoulder.

Lance’s nostrils flared slightly under a heaving a breath when she adjusted her hips, resting her weight on his abdomen and shifting in a continuous rotating motion, just a mere few inches away from where he’d like to feel her slickness instead. Every movement downward allowed the tip of his cock to brush against her rear, just enough to create some sort of tempting friction that sparked another wave of feral impulses to flow through him and buck his hips. The woman above him quickly lifted her weight off of him at this, narrowing her eyes slightly and giving a faint coy smile.

“Erika.” He growled her name, impatience rising within him.

She had been continuing her teasing ministrations for nearly an hour based on his internal clock, starting from foreplay, then pinning him down - at his will - and tying him up.

That’s how she got him like this.

He remembered clearly now when she brought him down on the bed and gently traced along his arms, bringing them over his head to hold his wrists together as she dug around in a bedside drawer. Lance humored her by submitting and laying obediently as she began tying his wrists with the rope, and then tying that to the headboard - only to realize too late that she could tie quicker and stronger than he thought when preoccupied with teasing her neck, and he found himself genuinely bound without easy escape. He had glared at her as he struggled against the restraints for a minute while she backed away, reminding him of their consistently unused safe-words as she reached under his knees to wrap her arms around and grasp at the top of his thighs before pulling. Once leaning up and struggling faintly with the knot, he found himself completely against the bed sheets with his arms gently taught above his head, and Erika made sure to keep him like that by placing her hands on his waist immediately and resting her weight on him to keep him from pulling himself back up. She made quick work of his pants from there, and the rest is history.

Now, leaning teasingly above him, Erika’s skin crawled with anticipation as she recalled her victory. Rarely could she get Lance bound without his true obedience to the matter, so having this powerful man underneath her truly by her own accord made him seem that much more feral and dangerous - which made her feel that much more powerful. Technically he could use their safe words to get out of this - their first rule is to always obey the safe words, it overrules all other rules - but she knew he wouldn’t. He would make his resistance interesting by actually using his wits to escape, not taking the low road and using the safe words just because he feels taken down a notch by being so easily bound while being completely aware of her game.

However, he didn’t seem to want to play her game. That would make sense; he’s not one to beg, but Erika set her ambitions on hearing him plead, so by the oracle that’s what’s going to happen.

She smiled at his low growl before taking her weight off of the hands on his chest, turning back to the drawer she pulled the rope from - she still had a few other techniques to disarm him further...

“Not in the mood to ask, huh? I’m sure that’ll change.”

Lance’s gaze flicked over to the dark, thin cloth she held in her hand, and then to her playful grin as she looked back at him. He could do nothing to resist her as she used both hands to place the cloth meticulously over his eyes and around his head, tucking the loose ends behind him to keep it in place.

“Not too tight?”

Erika gently tested the tightness of the blindfold by slipping a finger between the cloth and his skin, finding it loose enough to provide comfort but tight enough to keep him effectively blind.

Lance openly bared his teeth and snarled at her from deep in his throat - not the first time he’s done that, usually when he’s angered or irritated in ways he doesn’t know how to express, but occasionally to humor her. It was a mix of both irritation and humor that drove him to snarl this time.

“Oh dear! I suppose I should beg for you not to hurt me?” Her voice was a coy, amused teasing that drew a mean but genuine smile from Lance as they both shared a hushed laugh.

“Only if you don’t want me to hurt you.” He purred.

Erika hummed in response as her weight shifted above him.

“I don’t think there’s a lot you could do right now anyways.” Her voice was silky and light as she teased him, and the only warning Lance had was her weight settling between his legs again before she licked a path up the middle of his sac until the base of his cock. He gasped a quick moan, the smile dropping from his face before he clamped his mouth shut and bit his lower lip.

This woman would be the death of him.

Erika held his shaft with two fingertips of one hand as she brushed her lips up his length, stopping just before his head before ghosting her way back down. She moved to the soft, sensitive skin between his thigh and sac again - this time on the other side than she was before - and gently sucked a small portion of the skin into her mouth, licking and attentively sucking to assure she wasn’t being too rough to the point of pain. The hand that wasn’t holding his twitching cock rested on the inner of his thigh as she moved again, pressing a firm, wet kiss to the curve of his sac. The muscles under her hand tensed as she did so before she pulled back slightly.

“I can keep at this for a good, long time you know. Are you sure you want to be that stubborn? I could relieve you, all you need to do is ask nicely.” Erika drew the words out tauntingly, watching the dragon’s facial expressions as she spoke and hoping he would give some hint that he would crack and yield to begging.

However, Lance refused to give in so soon. He knew he was in a bad position; he couldn’t move, couldn’t see, and now he feared opening his mouth for any reason lest he somehow ended up pleading instead, but he refused to go down without a fight. Instead, he took a steady breath and willed himself to relax as much as possible again, mentally steeling himself to avoid any possible temptation of pleading for her from entering his mind.

All of his mental preparation, however, fled from him when he felt her fingertips brushing his inner thigh, before warm, silken lips took one of his balls into her mouth as her tongue gently lapped at his skin.

Fire rolled underneath his skin as he tensed again, impulsively flexing his arms and pulling down before they came to an abrupt halt as the rope reached it’s limit. A shaky, rumbling breath made it’s way from his throat as electricity surged through his veins and settled at the base of his cock, sparked from the persistent restraint that rendered him helpless. In this moment he never wanted to break a restraint so badly, so he resolved to pulling further against the ropes, encouraged by the faint creak of either bed or rope, until he couldn’t find it within himself to apply more pressure while under such states of intense desire.

Erika glanced up as she swirled her tongue around the tender skin, her own skin shivering momentarily as she watched Lance’s display of strength against his restraints. She sucked harder at him - testing the limits - as the thrill encouraged her, wondering how long this could continue for before the ropes broke under the might of the ice dragon. Did it even occur to him to perhaps use his ice to freeze the rope and snap it? Was he fully aware, but wished to prove that he could escape without the use of his dragon ability? Erika watched with anticipation as she teased him, awaiting his next move. How wonderful it was, doing something so lewd to such a powerful man as he fought for control under the weight of his own rules.

She adjusted herself again, gently releasing his skin from her mouth before teasing her lips around his other ball, only to back away again a few short moments later.

Lance huffed a shaky breath as he relaxed slightly, the ropes binding him loosening just a bit when he did so.

“What do you want me to do, hmm? What do you want me to do next?” Erika watched Lance closely again as she spoke, once again attempting to assess where his level of self-control was.

Lance parted his lips, unknown but desperate words lingering at the tip of his tongue, before he resorted to shaky breathing. He knew she could keep at this game for a while, keeping him at the edge of pleasure and infuriating him just enough so he would eventually buckle and give her what she wanted, but he still wasn’t ready - he had a bit of composure left.

However, the one small gesture told Erika exactly what she needed to know. She kissed along his lower abdomen, nipping lightly once in a while, before dipping back down to his ball sac, taking the first ball gently into her mouth to tease again before letting go and taking the one she neglected into her mouth. Lance’s back arched slightly in response and he bucked his hips when she began tracing her tongue over the sensitive skin. Her hand caressed his cock, thumb rising to pass over his slit where precum was dripping, and stroked once as he bit his lip and tensed against his restraints again.

Erika released him from her mouth and moved to lean over his cock, running the tip of her tongue from his sac, up his throbbing shaft, until she felt the ridge of his head before backing away again.

“I need you to beg for me, Lance. Tell me what you want me to do.”

She spoke knowing he was probably drowning in relentless waves of pleasure from her bold actions, hoping it would weaken his resolve further. For assurance that her tactic would work, she immediately leaned back down after speaking and ran the flat of her tongue over his cock head, tasting the salty tang of precum as she passed over his slit.

Lance grunted, a minor desperate note in the sound, and rolled his hips, gasping faintly when he felt her lips brush his head momentarily. However, Erika quickly pulled back, taking both hands off of him and refusing to initiate skin contact.

“Lance,” she started, her voice a lewd murmur. She knew exactly how far to push him now. “If you want that you need to beg. Beg to feel my lips sucking you off.”

Erika traced a finger over his cock head before leaning back down and running her tongue underneath the ridge, brushing her lips over his head in a soft kiss as she laid her hand on his abdomen and dragged her palm lower, towards his sac.

Lance bit his lip and groaned again as Erika gently took his sac in hand and squeezed softly, before she pulled away and held his cock in her palm instead. She teased one of his balls into her mouth again, adjusting properly as Lance’s hips rolled when she stroked his cock, and swirled her tongue around it before sucking lightly and pulling gently back.

“Fuck, Erika, please!”

The words escaped Lance before he had a chance to argue against himself, caught agonizingly in the desperation of wanting to feel her lips around him again. Tight coils settled in his lower abdomen as his cock throbbed in her palm, and the precum that was slowly slickening her touch on him only encouraged his desire to feel her lips sucking him off.

“Please what?”

Erika pulled gently away from him to speak, brushing her lips over his skin still and flicking her tongue out to lap at his cock when she could.

“I...” The dragon hesitated, not knowing how to find his words.

Erika leaned back down momentarily and sucked the flesh of his sac into her mouth, purposely excluding his balls, before releasing again and dragging her tongue from his sac, between his balls, up to his head. Lance jerked momentarily against his restraints and released a faint growl as he bucked his hips, and Erika humored him by complying to his wishes and wrapped her lips around the head of his cock, swirling her tongue and lightly sucking as she pulled steadily back to release him again. Lance’s hips rose off the bed to keep his cock in contact with her lips as she pulled away.

“Fuck, alright! I need you to suck me off! I need to feel you!”

His hips rested against the bed as Erika pushed him back down, bobbing her head once to take him further into her mouth. Her tongue ran along the underside of his shaft as his cock throbbed, precum seeping out of his slit to mix with her saliva and help slicken him. Lance moaned as he rolled his hips, enjoying the warm wetness of her mouth before she pulled away again.

“If you beg more I’ll swallow.”

“Only if I can watch.”

She smiled as she leaned up and grasped the blindfold, and with a flick of her wrist the blindfold drifted off the bed and towards the ground. Her eyes met with Lance’s piercing blue eyes - weighed heavy with lust - for only a moment before she leaned back down and took his cock in her mouth again.

Lance’s gaze followed her as she bobbed her head, gently sucking and swirling her tongue around his head when she came back up. One of her hands came to the base of his shaft, encircling her thumb and forefinger around his base and squeezing. He groaned and slightly rolled his hips, embracing another wave of warm electricity that came cascading through his veins as he tilted his head back and closed his eyes.

Erika pulled back for a moment, tilting her head to the side to lick along the dry skin further down on his shaft before taking his head in her mouth again. She eased herself further down, slowing as she felt his head press against the back of her mouth, but persisted and relaxed herself so she could take more of his cock.

Lance gasped quietly as Erika swallowed him, pulling against his restraints before releasing a loud groan.

“Fuck yes. Let me cum in your mouth, please let me cum in your throat.”

Lance’s voice was low - laced with the rumblings of a growl - as his abdomen tensed and breathing increased to a light pant. He rolled his hips as gently as possible, asking for more without making her too uncomfortable to the point of pulling away.

Erika released his base and took the rest of his shaft into her palm, slowly backing off to allow herself a moment to relax as her hand followed the direction of her head movement. She swirled her tongue around his head and stroked his shaft, pulling away momentarily to drag her tongue up the middle of his sac and take one of his balls into her mouth again. The pad of her thumb swiped across his slit, spreading more precum as he groaned, before she gently pulled her mouth away with a gentle tug and took his head into her mouth again.

Her hand stroked his cock at the same pace that she bobbed her head, continuously going deeper every time, and licking the sensitive underside of the ridge below his head when she came back up, until his head was pressing against her throat again. She gently squeezed his shaft once as she relaxed herself and took him further into her throat again, giving herself a moment to adjust before moving slightly.

Lance groaned as she took him into her throat again, abdomen tightening and hips rolling like earlier. He panted, casting a glance at her to make sure she wasn’t displaying signs of distress, before gently bucking his hips. Erika held steady, meeting his gentle movements with further advancements of her own as she stroked with her hand what she could. Lance squinted his eyes shut again, a small shiver rippling through him as he felt his oncoming release.

“Let me... please! Yes, like that!”

He panted his words and arched his back as Erika tightened her throat around him, applying more pressure to the underside of his shaft with her tongue and pulling back slightly for a moment before swallowing him again.

Lance struggled against the restraints again - tensing and pulling so hard he was sure that he’d break something - before the impending wave of fire rolled through him. He bucked his hips a last time, a shout escaping him as he released himself.

Erika held still as Lance’s cock throbbed in her throat, a strong, salty taste making itself apparent a few moments later as the dragon panted and slowly relaxed. She gently pulled back after a few heartbeats - keeping in mind that he would likely be sensitive now - before glancing up and locking her gaze with a sated blue gaze. Without a moment’s hesitation, she swallowed and licked her lips, as promised, and Lance narrowed his eyes slightly.

Her gaze broke from his and she leaned off the side of the bed, taking his discarded shirt from earlier.

“You can clean yourself up, right? I need to wash myself off quickly, I’ll be back in a minute.”

She tossed the shirt casually onto Lance’s chest and rose tediously from the bed, testing to make sure she could stand after so long in an odd position.

“Uh... wait!? I can’t...”

Minor alarm laced Lance’s voice - a rare thing to hear from him - so Erika immediately stopped all she was doing and looked towards him, remembering now that he couldn’t, in fact, clean himself up. He was still restrained.

“Wait, you really can’t break out of that!?”

Sure he was restrained, but the last rope he broke was much stronger than the current one, and not as frayed as this old one. Apparently the little old rope could stand to a dragon’s strength.

He merely gave her a look; a raised eyebrow combined with a half amused glare.

“Your ice-”

“Hey, I can answer that question while you unite me.”

Lance watched her stubbornly, a twitch at the corner of his mouth signaling the beginning of a small smile.

Erika rolled her eyes.

“Your ice can’t freeze it then shatter it or something?”

She was sure he had that ability, so why didn’t he just do that? Regardless, she went to untying him, gently loosening the ropes around him and affectionately brushing her hands along his arms to soothe any pains the rope could have caused from his fighting, until he was completely free.

And then she was grabbed by the waist and pinned on the bed.

“What-”

“You really think you can tie me up, blindfold me, and then ask me to beg for you without there being consequences? I think it’s only fair that you know what that feels like now.”

Lance already had both her wrists pinned under his large hand and was setting to work with the rope, and Erika couldn’t help but fight the anticipating grin that slowly overcame her as she realized what that would entail for her.

She hoped for a moment that the rope would break, and then decided against it. If begging for Lance came along with his tantalizing teasing, she certainly couldn’t complain.

~I hope you like this! I don’t entirely know how to talk teasingly so the dialogue might not be the best, but otherwise I think I wrote pretty well. 😂

Thank you for asking, darling! ❤️

Have a request? Ask them here!

But first, please read the rules list for asks!

#eldarya #Eldarya ANE #eldarya lance #Eldarya Lance ane #eldarya lance headcanons #fenristheorem writing #askfenris

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violetsoju · 3 years

Text

overdrive

iwaizumi hajime · fluff · 1.7k

summary: iwaizumi seriously needs to get work done, without his mind going into overdrive

a/n: the product of spending too many nights in the library because i can't get work done back in my room

The reason why Iwaizumi doesn’t like studying in the library open space is because there’s too many people.

High school students hogging seats that are evidently not enough to cater for the university’s own students. Half-zombified students surviving on energy drinks sprawled on the table, escaping reality by taking a catnap. Students with earbuds stuck into their ears, tapping away on their phones or watching videos under the cool air-conditioning instead of the scorching heat outside. Or those who Iwaizumi wonders how they even got accepted into university because they’re clearly illiterate, making sure everyone around them knows what’s on their mind despite the big red ‘quiet please’ sign hanging on the wall next to them.

“It’s distracting.” he grumbles. “How am I supposed to focus with so many people roaming around, not to mention the background noise I didn’t ask for.” The endless flow of people rolling before his eyes has him rubbing his temples in distress.

“It just means that you’re not focused enough, Iwa.” Your eyes never leave the laptop before you, fingers swiftly tapping on your keyboard.

He shoots a glare to your direction. “Why don’t you try sitting in my position and see if you’ll say the same.”

A scoff sounds in the air. “As if it’s not the same on my end.”

Iwaizumi should be used to squeaking noises on the polished concrete surface, given the years of spending most of his youth living in the school gym. But the shuffles and squeaks behind him now has his jaw clenched tight, fingers coiled together.

“Admit it. You’re just distracted by me.”

Two pairs of eyes lock. One with a glint of tease and mischief, one with a glint of exasperation and fatigue.

“As if.” You smirk at his response, clicking your tongue knowingly as you trail your eyes back on the bright laptop screen.

As if you’re the reason why he’s distracted. What absolute nonsense.

But if you’re not, why did he reply so hastily, mouth working faster than his brain, as if he was trying to hide something? As if someone broke the passcode to his closely-guarded safe that safeguards his hidden stash of valuables and treasures?

Is that why he firmly insists on studying in the quiet area, all the way in the deep end of the library, where one is confined to a study pod each? No random humans lurking in sight, just a laptop screen, and three mounted walls enclosing the small yet breathable space. The cries of help from keyboards being murdered mercilessly by the rapid finger smashing filling the air.

A space where everyone has their minds shackled to the device before them, head swimming in overloaded information too much for poor brains. A space where the only distraction is the faint cries only audible to oneself screaming this is too much.

That’s the space Iwaizumi needs to be in. And that’s the only distraction he needs.

Or the only distraction he can afford to have.

Because the rest are definitely too much.

One, in particular, is definitely too much.

His eyes act on their own will, something he can’t hold rein of.

It captures every small detail of the figure seated opposite him. You, to be specific.

The way your brows furrow together in complete concentration. He’s sure that you’ll be the one having wrinkles earlier than him, despite your constant nagging of how he shouldn’t crumple up his face in disgust at the sight of couples making out on campus in broad daylight.

The way you heave out heavy, long sighs every half an hour, like a fire-breathing dragon spouting flames from its mouth. Not as scary as Godzilla though.

The way you rest your temple against your knuckles, gradually tilting sideways like the Leaning Tower of Pisa as your elbows slip further. It’s a miracle you don’t lose balance at that angle.

The way your hand travels downwards towards the side of your neck, knuckles planted behind your ears to keep the weight of your head in place. Sometimes they’re curled together in a straight neat line. Sometimes they trek little lower, tucked under your jaw near to your ear. Sometimes just a finger is all you need to support the mass above your shoulders. Iwaizumi has honestly lost count of the number of poses you can make, which he has to admit, are better than those watch or jewellery models plastered on glossy magazine pages.

When your fingers wrap the side of your neck, or when your fingers splay across your neck and collarbone, he wonders if he can cradle your neck with his hand like a snug pillow. He knows how small your hands are compared to his large ones, how soft your palms are compared to his calloused ones, worn from years of practice. He wonders how it’ll feel against your smooth bare skin.

He wonders if he has his fingers wrapped around the nape of your neck, closing the gap by pulling you towards his chest to feel your heartbeat thumping against his, would your breath hitch, shudder under his touch from the sparks ignited from the sudden difference in skin texture, or would you melt into his touch, into the warmth of his palm that’s just a quarter of the fire in his burning heart that’s set ablaze by you?

When you part your lips to apply lip balm onto your dried lips caused by the low humidity, he wonders which lip balm you’re using today. Is it the normal original one? The peach flavoured one? Or the manuka honey one?

He licks his own dehydrated lips although he knows it would make it worse. When you smack your lips to even out the wax-like substance, he wonders how it feels like, how it tastes like. Does it really taste like peaches? Or like sweet honey dripping from your eyes at the sight of food?

He could find out by reaching out his hand to borrow it from you. But he wonders how it would feel like from your lips, how it would taste directly from your lips.

It’s a childish thought, but using a lip balm that has touched your lips on his is like an indirect kiss. High-school Iwaizumi would be a blushing mess at the thought. But Iwaizumi is all grown up now. If he were to want a kiss, he would want a direct kiss. Lips on lips. Flesh on flesh. Nothing in between.

But he remembers that his lips are slightly dry and chapped, which would be such a turnoff to mould it with your moist plump ones. But what better way to moisturise one’s lips with another?

When you tap your lips, deep in thought – as if taunting his previous thoughts – he wonders if he’s ever met anyone who does that instead of tapping their chin. And when you jab your thumb on your lower lip, knuckles brushing your upper lip, he wonders how your lips feel like. He has wiped away food stains from the side of your lips numerous times, but it was always the napkins that had the honour of gracing your skin. Are they as soft and plush as they seem?

Are they as dreamy and kissable as they seem?

He wants to find out for himself, to feel for himself. He wants to trace the curves of your lips with his fingertips, to feel each line carved on your lips, to memorise each slope and dip of your lips. If he can’t use his sense of taste to recognise your lips, at least he’ll know it’s you with his sense of touch.

Oh, just when he thinks that you look good in a certain lipstick colour, you prove him otherwise when you appear with a different shade the next day. It’s funny how all the shades of red and coral displayed look disturbingly identical in the shops you drag him into, but he can tell at first sight that they’re a different shade when it’s on your lips. He always finds it amazing how you blend different tones together to make your already desirable lips more alluring. It isn’t the colour that brings out the extra shine in you; it’s you who brings the pop of colour alive.

And he wonders how that pop of colour would look like on his bronze skin tone.

When you run your fingers through your hair in frustration, he wonders how it’ll feel like if those were his fingers. He’d run through them gently, soothing them out affectionately. He’d comb through each strand of hair with his fingers delicately.

He wonders how it’ll feel like with your fingers running through his hair, featherlike fingers caressing his scalp tenderly. It’s such a soft gesture that melts even the toughest of hearts. He wonders if you would tug his hair, if you would curl your fingers over his short cut. Would it be in playful manner? Or a desperate manner? Most importantly, when, why and where you would do that.

Let’s not get started on how your tongue peeks out the side of your mouth, running along your sharp yet cute fang teeth that could shred one into pieces. Or when you stick out your tongue teasingly at him when you catch him staring.

What’cha looking at? Eyes on the laptop, not me.

It’s a cute harmless gesture for you, but god knows how it’s a gesture drives his mind into overdrive. Something you're not ready to know about, yet.

There are too many wondering thoughts, thoughts deemed unnecessary and distracting when he’s with you. That’s why he insists on having a barrier wedged between the both of you, especially when he needs to get actual shit done. All he can see now is the crown of your head, and your sneakers beneath the table that are a few inches away from his. That’s all he needs and can handle on his plate right now.

Right now, there’s more important things to be done. Not that you’re not important. If you’re not important, you wouldn’t be driving him up the wall with such subtle movements and gestures.

Important things that require his attention right here, right now are things like the two thousand essay that’s due tomorrow. The e-mail from his professor regarding the group assignment progress that he has yet to reply. The mini army of tabs armed with journal articles waiting to be read.

Like any other day, Iwaizumi hopes and prays that his mind will cooperate with him to set gear into the right direction. If he could put off pouring his heart out for so many years, then these crazy yet valid thoughts could wait too.

He knows they’ll be worth the wait too.

#iwaizumi hajime x you #iwaizumi hajime x y/n #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi x y/n #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime fluff #iwaizumi fluff #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu scenarios #iwaizumi scenarios #hq imagines #hq scenarios #haikyuu fluff #iwaizumi headcanons #iwaizumi hcs #iwaizumi oneshot

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whump-me-all-night-long · 3 years

Text

The Jewelry Box: Diamond's Origins

So, this takes place approximately twelve years before Amber is brought to the Jewelry Box, when Diamond wasn't quite Diamond yet.

Taglist: @newbornwhumperfly @unicornscotty @itsleighlove @whump-scribbles @getyourwhumphere @skunkandgrenade @penny-for-your-whump @lektric-whump @just-a-whump-lover @thelazywitchphotographer @restrainthenmaime @angstyachesplus @lilbitwhumpy @leaderofthebeanarmy @aquard-skaii @whumprincess @thatgaysnail @finaldreams1106 @reveriedeludesme @kemonoinuzuka @circlingravens @whumpasaurus101 @spicy-wendigo @femmewithadhd @wafflestakethecake let me know if you want to be added/removed!

CW: power dynamics between a boss and employee, implied family abuse, misgendering (which is quickly corrected), idk what else to add, there's just a very possessive feel between Diamond and the Jeweler in this one, so let me know if I need to add anything else!

---

Shit. Dakota quickly sped through the halls, counting the numbers on the gold-embossed plaques as they went. 323. 324. 325. As they hurried, struggling not to trip over their own feet, their hands tightened on the still slightly steaming cups of coffee they held as their shoulder raised, making sure their messenger bag wouldn't slip off.

Finding room 327, Dakota used their elbow to open the door. Slipping inside, they felt every head turn towards them, a dark red flush creeping into their cheeks. They took fast, precise steps towards the head of the table, where their boss waited, a small smile on his face.

Reaching him felt like it took a million years, every eye on them. Their traitorous hands trembled and they had to remember to take deep, even breaths. Finally, though, they reached him.

Setting the coffee down, they took a step back, squeezing their own so tightly their knuckles turned white. They turned to sit down in their chair, set along the wall, behind the boardroom table, where the rest of the interns and assistants sat.

One of the men sitting close to their boss, Mr. Johnson, who had been watching them closely, cleared his throat pointedly. “Young man-” he started but Dakota’s boss interjected.

“Not a man,” he said, voice leaving no room for arguments. Dakota’s cheeks must be permanently stained red, they thought distantly, as their shaking hands grabbed their notebook and pen out of their bag. They slouched down in their chair, letting their wavy, white hair fall in front of their face. They also wondered if it would be possible for them to sink into the ground and never reappear.

The other man frowned, before trying to begin again. “Young lady-” he once again started before their boss sighed, looking up from the papers in front of him.

“They’re not a lady either, Johnson,” he said with a pointed look. “Now, are we going to sit here and discuss my assistant’s gender identity or can we proceed with the meeting?”

As the rest of the people gathered at the table began speaking, each trying to raise a different issue, claiming it should be first on the agenda, Dakota’s boss leaned back in his swivel chair, meeting their eyes with a kind smile.

“Thank you for the coffee, darling,” he said, quiet enough that only Dakota could hear. “You truly are a lifesaver.” They gave him a tight smile, ready to focus on taking notes, distracting themself so they didn’t have to think about what that man had said. He stared at them for another moment before adding, “Don’t let what Johnson said get to you. He’s a grade A asshole.”

A real smile dawned on Dakota’s face. “I know.. but, thank you, Mr. Spencer,” they murmured back.

Mr. Spencer smiled at them for another moment before turning around and calling the meeting to order.

After the meeting, Dakota stayed in their seat, watching as the rest of the people trickled out, chatting and scheming, until it was only them and Mr. Spencer left.

With a heavy sigh, Mr. Spencer turned around in their chair, leaning back and surveying Dakota with weary eyes. “Well?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Dakota glanced back over their pages of notes, written in small, cramped handwriting. “You were right,” they said with a timid smile. “Norris and Hernandez are definitely planning something. The two couldn't stop looking at each other the entire time, especially whenever someone brought up the budget for next year. According to their history, they'll most likely try to get more funding for the hands-on experience with the, the pets.”

Dakota cleared their throat, glancing up at Mr. Spencer. He was staring at them with a smile on his face, eyes twinkling. He cleared his throat. “Darling, you're quite miraculous, you know that, right? I've never seen someone able to read people so naturally and precisely.”

Dakota felt their ears heating and smiled, looking down. “Th-thank you, sir,” they replied, fiddling with the sleeve of their sweater, frowning slightly as they noticed a fraying edge.

Mr. Spencer noticed their gaze and stood, offering them a hand. “Come, I have something for you in my office.”

Taking his hand without hesitation, Dakota stood, grabbing their bag and following him out.

Back in his office, Dakota glanced around, feeling awkward being inside the neatly organized area, despite going in there several times a day. They were much more used to their desk, placed in the antechamber, where they could putter around all day. They also did tend to spend more time walking around the enormous building, delivering this and picking that up, than anything else.

They watched Mr. Spencer pull out a large box from beneath his desk. Setting it on top of his desk, he looked up at Dakota.

Clearing his throat, he said, “Now, Dakota, I want you to tell me if I'm crossing a line here. I, well, I've just noticed that you haven't exactly had very many resources available to you right now, due to your family situation.” Dakota looked down, shame burning through them.

Suddenly, Mr. Spencer was in front of them, lifting their head with a finger. “It's nothing to be ashamed of,” he said in a gentle voice. “Not everyone is lucky enough to have a supportive family. I'm glad you were able to get out while you could. However, I do know that that's caused lots of stress on you. So I thought this might help.”

He stepped back, gesturing to the box. Nervously, Dakota stepped up to the desk, slowly taking the lid off. Inside were clothes, fashionable and business-like, neatly folded. They jerked their head up, staring at Mr. Spencer in shock. “I- I couldn't,” they stuttered. “This, this is too much.”

He smiled at them, placing a reassuring hand on their back. “You can,” he replied. “And if it's a matter of price, you can just consider it a business expense. What kind of businessman would I be, if my assistant wore the same few outfits? You know appearance is everything here.”

Dakota nodded, giving them a bigger smile. “Thank you, then,” they conceded, picking up the box.

Mr. Spencer smiled back, settling back down at his desk. “You're very welcome, darling. Just make sure you have your full report from the meeting drawn up and given to me tomorrow morning.”

Dakota nodded, slipping out of the room and back to their desk. Setting the box down, they woke up their computer and pulled out their notebook. They quickly set to work on the report, knowing they'd have it done by the end of the day. Mr. Spencer knew it too.

A few hours later, back in their shoddy one-room apartment, Dakota set the box of clothes down at their small kitchen/dining table, opening it up and beginning to sort through the clothes.

Their eyes widened as they took in each article. These were… definitely not what they were used to. The clothing was slim-fitting, all silks and cashmeres, tasteful and expensive. Nothing like the darker, oversized, nice sweaters they typically wore.

But, well, Mr. Spencer had been so kind to pick these clothes out for them, and they did need more high-end, business-appropriate clothes. And now that they looked at them, they couldn't help but admire them, picturing themself in them, a smile creeping onto their face.

The next day, Mr. Spencer sat in his office, leaning back, reading through the thorough report his darling Dakota had placed on his desk before leaving last night. As always, it was in-depth and full of all the wonderful little tidbits they'd picked up on that nobody - not even himself - had noticed.

At a knock, he looked up, beginning to smile when he saw Dakota standing in the doorway, holding a cup of coffee. They were wearing one of the outfits he'd picked out for them: a form-fitting, silky, silver shirt worn atop slim black pants.

“Good morning, sir,” they said in greeting, stepping inside and placing the coffee on his desk. “I was just dropping off your coffee and making sure you got my report.”

He smiled, nodding and taking a sip of the steaming drink. Perfectly done, as it always was when his darling made it. “Yes, I was just going over it. It's very helpful, thank you.”

Dakota nodded, almost glowing at the praise, before stepping back and turning to leave when he added, “And might I add, you look really good, Dakota. I'm glad you liked the clothes.” They blushed and left with another incline of their head.

Mr. Spencer turned back to the report, glancing at his desktop, where a new proposal was drawn up. At the top he'd written The Jewelry Box. And he had just the perfect idea for the first Jewel.

#the jewelry box #the jeweler #diamond darling #power dynamics #family abuse #misgendering #which is quickly corrected #this is more whump-adjacent #and just sorta has a creepy feel to it

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clairdelunelove · 3 years

Text

Ocean Blues

armin arlert x f!reader, young!armin x reader, timeskip!armin x reader

genre: fluff, romance, mutual pining, angst

warnings: slight spoilers?

synopsis: some cozy comfort with armin as the two of you venture to the beach and admire the sea. The day is filled with shy glances, damp clothes, and sweet treats- as he tries to make you forget that he has to leave. It’s days like these that he adores. Unbeknownst to him, these memories would later come to haunt him in the future.

a.n: in honor of armin’s appearance in season 4, have some angst with our favorite blond boy!

“This is beautiful.”

The confession leaves your glossy lips in a lingering breath that dances out and mingles with the salty air. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, a smile crosses your face as the cerulean waves crash against the golden sand. It’s quite reassuring how empty the spot underneath the concavity of a beachside hill was and occupying the area seemed too fortuitous.

Hauling the beach bag over your shoulder, your feet stay rooted to the spot that overlooks the entirety of the ocean. The sun setting within the horizon casted a glow that rested upon the fluffy, rare clouds that were scattered across the sky.

“It really is.”

Nestling your toes between the layers of soft sand, your gaze flicks to the sudden exhale that’s emitted beside you. Cerulean eyes, combating the water’s hue, meet yours as he slowly exhales. His jaw slackens instantly upon noticing the tinted blush on your cheeks, causing his lips to curl into a joyous grin. The indirect compliment goes straight to your heart as you sputter out a halfhearted rebuttal before veering closer to the water. Immediately, the blond calls out to you while lugging the rest of your personal belongings and his gentle chuckle rings true to your ears.

With a quick pivot, you note the haphazard way he’s heaving around the obnoxiously colored beach umbrella, picnic basket, and blanket while trying to closely follow behind you. A laugh bubbles in your throat as he suddenly yelps when the blanket rolls out of his grasp. Placing the belongings beside you, the male hurriedly arranges the set up when he notices your watchful gaze. He works quickly to gather the pastel cloth and shifts to lay it in a specific way.

“So if the wind direction is north and wind blows north to south,” Armin’s caught muttering his thought process as his slender fingers tug the blanket over the sand, “it should be shifted this way.”

Outstretching his hands, he gestures for you to sit on the covering so you’re comfortable and you do so with a grateful grin. The sand provides cushion when you plop down, fingers itching to scoop a handful up. Grains of glimmering white and beige slipped through the crevices of your hands.

Armin cautiously settles next to you, eyes trained on the soft features of your face, “is this alright?”

“It’s perfect.”

Shrugging off his navy cardigan, he folds the article of clothing and tucks it neatly in your beach bag while casting a relieved smile to you. It’s the type of expression that causes his furrowed brows to relax, the crease on his forehead disappearing with the action. He moves to fold his white linen sleeves and cuffs the worn fabric with calculated mobility.

You tuck your legs inward, resting your chin upon your knees to languidly stare at the ocean. The crashing waves chase after each ripple while concocting a foaming aftermath that sizzles on the sand. Faintly, seagulls squawked in the distance as their habitual flying pattern took up the evening sky.

“So,” he suddenly speaks up while fixated on the same breathtaking view, “this is the ocean.”

Small puffs of warm air leave his lips, intermingling with the chilly weather. The comment comes out in measured breaths. You can’t help but note that his tone is oddly bittersweet in the romantic moment and an unfamiliar tug pulls at you. Doubts, anxiousness, and heartache recurrently clawed at you in the previous weeks.

“I couldn’t imagine being able to see this before I left.”

At the remark, he thumbs at a broken seashell that’s barely visible within the sand by him. The creme colored shell is partially jagged yet smooth when overturned in his grip and he runs a finger over the sleek surface. Moving to settle closer to the male, you carefully rest your head against his shoulder while listening to his soft breaths.

You’d perceived that as a result of his sensitivity to nervousness, Armin’s breathing evolved into gasping whenever the situation was too overwhelming. Interlacing his fingers with yours, you gifted him a reassuring hum before gazing at your interlocked hands.

“Do you,” it was your turn to abruptly speak, “have to go?”

The blond’s head whips in your direction and stares at the top of your head while he’s unable to utter an answer. His lips move as silence is the only known form of language to him at the moment. Internally, his heart drops at how broken your voice sounds at the inquiry and he desires to push away the logic that clouds his judgement.

“Enrollment for the Training Corps starts tomorrow,” Armin mutters while his thumb lovingly caresses the back of your hand.

It’s the same explanation you’ve received for the past three months and he evidently aspired to keep it that way. Nestling into the crook of his arm, the hollow of flesh there indicated the limited muscle mass that the blond’s readily going to exercise once he’s a member. A small smile flashes on your face, inwardly overjoyed that perhaps the male would finally get some type of proper nourishment if he’s enrolled in training.

Rolling up your frayed sleeves, a crooked grin dances on your lips, “I know you’ll make it.”

“As a member?”

He seems bewildered at how resolute and strong your voice sounds at the statement. If he’d have known better, the blond greatly doubted his ability to physically outperform most of the recruits that were willing to try out for the member position. Scrawny physique, due to malnutrition, was one of his traits that he’d been self conscious about before he met you. Usually, others were bound to protect him from the onslaught of swinging fists and raucous cursing.

“Yes,” you quell his racing mind, “and as a commander.”

Armin commits a double take, almost getting whiplash in the process, and his mouth drops to indicate how flabbergasted he is by the comment. Smiling brightly, you reach out to dramatically close his opened mouth with a tap of your index finger. His brows amiably furrow while he sheepishly smiles at your compliment.

“You must be kidding,” the male responds in a higher pitched voice.

“I’m definitely not.”

Resolutely closing his eyes while shaking his head, he actively dismisses his capabilities of being a leader. The blond could barely even defend himself on the streets so becoming commander was pushing it. Yet, your jaw was set as earnestness consumed your entire being.

“That’s so absurd,” he runs a hand through his hair and presses his lips together, “that I’m willing to bet anything that I wouldn’t become a Survey Corps commander.”

Eyes tracking the movement, you can’t help but let your own fingers reach out to swipe a blond piece of hair away from his face. He sputters at the intimacy, reeling back with an arm drawn over his face, but quickly regains his composure with an awkward chuckle. At the dramatic scene, you both can’t help but freely laugh. His hair seemed to catch the darkened hues of light, illuminating it to appear golden. You always adored his bob hairstyle, one that he grew up with, and decided to cast a wager on a consistent ideal to prove how confident you were in his abilities.

Tousling the hair framing his face, the bet is uttered by you, “and if you do become one, you’ll have to cut your hair.”

At the mention, Armin draws a hand up to brush away his bangs. Tilting his chin, he seems to ponder the gamble with an intrigued raise of a brow. The blond didn’t mind the length of his hair, quite honestly, and just kept the bob because it was all he’d ever known. He relied on consistency. If the options were weighed then he wouldn’t lose anything too drastic in the situation.

“I can take you on that offer, since,” his lip quirks up in an amused half smile, “the possibility of a Titan attacking is higher than me actually becoming a commander.”

“You have to cut it though,” you reiterate as your gaze broke away from his, “even if I’m not there to see it happen. I’ll know one day.”

It would be a long while before the male would actually become in a position of power since climbing the ranks was it’s own adventure. Plus, you were both extremely young to genuinely make a difference. If anyone had an ounce of striving for change, it would be Armin starting his life in the Training Corps.

He nods, exuding endless loyalty that men would envy, and continues brushing a thumb against your hand. There’s a particular type of happiness that veils his eyes when he stares at you once more. Perhaps it’s the bubbling joy of looking forward to reaching for the commander position or just the notion that you hinted that the two of you would continually stay together despite his absence.

“We’re going to get in so much trouble! Where’d you get that from?”

Stabbing the confectionary through a wooden stick, your lips curl into a mischievous grin that invokes the male to shake his head at your sly ways. You’d taken a trip to the town’s open roofed bakery and paid a visit to the place by giving their products a try. In your parents’ words, borrowing was always an option if the reward was great. Armin’s wide smile was acknowledgement that there was no risk without a reward.

“This is basically why I wanted to meet up with you today,” you mentioned while your fingers continued sliding down the marshmallows to properly align on the stick.

The blond blew out a breath onto the kindling, settling back on his heels when the fire roared to life. He runs his arm over his forehead to gather the beads of sweat underneath his bangs. His white linen shirt laid wrinkled upon him, a rare sight, as the sleeves were bunched up at the ends. The brown trousers were folded up his calves to display the sand that stuck onto his wet skin. Your own skirt was tied at the end to hitch up the fabric to avoid the waves of water. There had been obvious evidence from both sides that the two of you finished a session of splashing in the ocean water.

“Is that,” he scoots closer to your seated position by the fire, “chocolate?”

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, not expecting two sweets to be implemented in the highlight of his day. The town’s rations were highly strict recently and confectionaries were not even uttered to be given to the lower division families. Ironically, the two of you were treating the dark chocolate like it was an unlimited treasure.

“Yeah,” you breathed out while handing Armin a stick of marshmallows, “I wanted to try something new so just put them near the fire.”

The makeshift fire that the male set up laid blazing in intermingled colors of crimson and orange. He constructed the fire directly on the sandy beach, placing it near the water’s waves during high tide. Heat radiated off the bonfire in strong flickers, casting a dewy glow to Armin’s skin as he heeded to your instructions and held out the stick close to the fire.

Once the marshmallows were roasted to a golden shade, your hands quickly reached to your beach bag to pull out the rest of the necessary ingredients. Stacking the remains of some muffin crumbs, chocolate, and Armin’s roasted marshmallows, you squish the dessert between your fingertips. The white confectionary oozes out, leading the blond to curiously glance in your direction.

“Try it.”

Prodding the treat towards his lips, Armin’s gaze flashes toward it and then at your giddy smile. He adores every fraction and angle of the way your soft features gleam. Each wave in your hair, every freckle on your nose, and the tint of your lips didn’t go unnoticed by the vigilant male. Accompanied with the sunset casting a halo above your head, there wasn’t a sight in the world that he’d rather fixate on.

Nibbling at the corner of the makeshift s’mores, he hums in approval as wide eyes connect with yours. Your knowing laugh aids him in properly chewing with a full mouth of the sweet treat. You share the same dessert, taking a bite out of the opposing corner, and crunching in delight. The savory chocolate is a delicacy that you haven’t tasted in months, causing nostalgia to rush through you.

“I wish we could always stay here.”

Muffled by his mouthful of the dessert, Armin’s melancholy utterance is barely registered in a serious tone. Yet, you could tell in the sharp glint in his blue eyes that the notion clouded his thoughts. His fingers find purchase in yours, a gesture that you’d greatly reminiscence when he left to the Training Corps and the blush that bloomed on your cheeks was a clear indicator. Perching on your knees, your arms reach over to envelop the blond in a gentle hug. It’s clearly awkward, by the clunking of your knees hitting his and how your hands are still interlaced with his, but he doesn’t seem bothered by it all.

“Come back to visit the ocean,” you whispered as your muffled voice drifted to his ears, “I’ll always be at the ocean waiting for you.”

“Waiting for me?”

“Always.”

Hot tears pricked at the corner of his eyes, threatening to slip as your fingers desperately dug onto his linen shirt. It stung that your only school classmate, childhood best friend, and innocent crush would depart while focusing on his own success. You were stuck in Wall Maria. The repetitive cycle of your district life was just beginning and a hint of jealousy clawed at you.

“I promise I’ll come back to the ocean,” Armin murmured as his fingers soothingly played with your hair, “and cut my hair if I become commander.”

“Promise?”

Lifting yourself off his chest, you peered up at Armin’s tear stained cheeks and let out a broken chuckle. Your own eyes were tinged red as your lower lip trembled at each remembrance of the memories you made with the male. Drawing a thumb over his cheek, you allowed the blond to reserve the rest of the night to memorizing each determinant of your beauty. The sad smile, scars, and flaws were the winsomeness that he would take in every battle.

“Promise.”

He never did see you again.

The onslaught of destruction that the Titans brought to demolish Wall Maria was too massive to the districts below. Havoc, chaos, and terror were the only images that you were able to witness before your final breath. Yet, your mind was full with the fleeting touch of Armin’s hand in yours and his joyous smile that stretched across his composed features. You didn’t regret ebbing away from the constraints of life since he was the last vision you saw.

The male, grown and stronger in his years now, was a prisoner in the endless phase of guilt. Each day was a struggle to regain the confidence he once possessed and lead a new army into the depths of uncertainty. Nevertheless, Armin did visit the ocean in hopes of seeing a glimpse of you. He hadn’t. Still, years after the first incident, the blond ventured to the ocean again.

Curling his toes against the soft sand, he ran a hand through his newly cropped hair. The commander badge, clipped on his Survey Corps uniform, glinted in the dusk hours. Alike to when you were both young, he decided on picking a time that was eerily close to that fateful day. You would’ve had no doubt that one day Armin would make a fine commander. He tugged his leather boots along with him, trailing the edge of the ocean as a bitter half smile curled on his lips. The waves crashing against the sand were almost loud enough to muffle his strangled sobs.

Yet, a promise was a promise.

#snk armin #aot x reader #armin arlert #armin arlet x reader #young!armin #timeskip!armin #fluff #angst #spoilers

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tryingsomethingoutidkyet · 3 years

Text

Ham Hocks: 100 follower celebration

Ok so I may have accidentally found some writing inspiration . It is currently 4am and the smoke is clearing out of my house. Let’s see if this turns out well.

WORDS: 1.4k

Warnings: Fire (not really, but almost)

Pro hero! Sero x College!Reader

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Let’s get one thing clear, you can cook, you can. It’s just that you were tired. Which is justified. You had been working for the past two weeks non-stop on a project for your college class that you’re more than willing to admit you invested an unhealthy amount of time into completing, so much so that you hardly had a break.

It’s not that you didn’t want to take a break either, in fact, you thought you’d be done by now. And you would’ve been if your project partner actually did his half of the work instead of lying to you about how much he was getting done every time you checked in with him, only for him to tell you the week before the project was due that he hadn’t actually gotten anything done besides putting his name on it and yes, it was too late to switch partners. Which is how you got stuck gathering weeks of research, siting sources and linking articles into a few days of effort in order to get a passing grade.

It was about 12am and you had just finished the final page of your work, thankfully having gotten both halves of the project done without any other issues. You even had time to attach a detailed note to your professor about who did what exactly. Yes it was petty, but you did everything yourself and you refuse to allow the very reason you had been up for the past few days, surviving on an aggressive amount of coffee and maybe 8 hours of sleep total to get the same grade as you.

After completing your project you find yourself suddenly aware of all the needs you’ve deprived yourself of for the past few days. You were hungry and tired and you just wanted to take a shower that was longer than 5 minutes. So that’s what you set out to do.

After completing your project, you find yourself suddenly aware of all the needs you’ve deprived yourself of for the past few days. You were hungry and tired, and you just wanted to take a shower that was longer than 5 minutes. So that’s what you set out to do.

It didn’t work out that way

You had scoured your kitchen for a quick meal and unfortunately came up with nothing. Dealing with the project kept you so busy you guess you forgot to buy food. The only thing you had in your freezer was a pack of fatass ham hocks and those take forever to get done. You contemplated sleep for dinner tonight before finally deciding to put them on the stove. “I’ll just sleep in tomorrow.” You reassured yourself as you headed to the shower.

Coming back from your shower at about 1am, you sat on your bed turned on the tv to distract yourself while you wait. There was nothing on considering how late it was, so you decided to leave it on the news.

Now onto some exciting hero news. Pro hero Cellophane was seen today taking down a pretty big villain…

“At least I’ll stay up for this.” You say to yourself as you adjust on the bed, trying to find a comfortable position. You had been a Cellophane fan for a while so seeing him finally getting recognition for all his hard work was pretty exciting.

The anchor lady continued to talk about the rising star pro-hero and his defeat of some creepy villain that looked like a science project gone wrong.

You weren’t really paying attention to the news anchor as she spoke, preferring to focus your attention onto the footage that played in the background of your favorite hero.

Honestly, you don’t even know how you became a fan. It’s not like you were always big on heroes. You couldn’t name more than a few but somehow, the human tape dispenser had caught your attention from the very start of his career. He always seemed to go out of his way to help civilians, no matter how small their troubles may have been. Which should be normal for a hero but seeing as how the pro hero Screamy Mc Anger Face is sitting at #2 on the hero charts, you really held an appreciation for Cellophane.

It also didn’t hurt that over the years of you being a fan, this man has gotten more and more attractive. He had gotten taller, and now according to the tape man himself, was sitting at a good 6’2. His jaw had become more shaped and his form had filled out a little as well thanks to his years in the hero business. He had let his hair grow out a little more and seemed to mainly keep it in a ponytail for his hero work. He was truly the most attractive man you’ve ever seen.

You were so caught up in your thoughts of Sero you hadn’t even noticed you were falling asleep.

You didn’t get much time to rest, however as you were being pulled out of your slumber by someone roughly shaking you. Your eyes shot open and met with a set of deep brown pupils that seemed so familiar although you didn’t quite know why. Allowing your vision to adjust, you see that they belong to someone you’d found yourself admiring for a while. “Oh, I must be dreaming.” You say to yourself as you roll over, fully intending to get the most out of whatever this was you were being blessed with. You loved when god blessed your dreams, at least you thought it was a dream.

Only until you felt yourself being lifted into some pretty solid arms. “Ok definitely not a dream, y/n.” Your eyes shot open once again, very much awake this time. The Sero Hanta was carrying you. But why? You were trying to wrap your head around the situation, but it was hard to focus. There was a loud screeching that had filled your head and you couldn’t see much further than Sero’s head due to the thick smoke in the house. That was when it clicked: My ham hocks

Before you knew it, you were out of your apartment complex and being placed feet first onto the cold ground. After a quick look to see you weren’t physically injured, he began to speak.” It doesn’t look like anything more than smoke; I checked the whole house.” He stated before gesturing toward your smoking apartment. “I’m going back inside to open the windows and turn off the alarm; wait here.” He walked off into your apartment. Sero Hanta was just standing in front of you. Sero Hanta was just carrying you. Oh my god oh my god oh my god.

When he came back, he was holding a few of your items in hand. “It looks like you’re just gonna have to wait it out, so I got you a few things from inside; I hope you don’t mind.” He says handing you one of your jackets, a pair of fuzzy slippers and your phone. “Thanks.” You say, slipping on the items before focusing your attention on him. He was so much hotter in person. How is that possible?

“So… how’d you get in my house?” He looked surprised. “Oh, wow that sounded rude, I’m sorry.” You say nervously “It’s just that as attractive as you are, I’d rather not have a stalker. Wait that’s not what I meant- “he cut you off with a chuckle. “No, it’s fine. I guess I just wasn’t really expecting that question. I was coming back from patrol and I saw smoke coming from over there.” He says gesturing toward your open kitchen window. “So, I climbed through. Thankfully, your room door was closed so no smoke was able to get in. You’re a pretty heavy sleeper, by the way.”

“Yeah, not really” you sheepishly reply, “I had a big project for class that kept me up for a while, so I guess my body just kinda went into a coma.” You were less nervous now “Honestly I’m surprised my neighbors didn’t hear all the noise.” Despite everything that happened, they hadn’t made a peep. “Well, it is 3am. At this point they’re probably all dead to the world.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize it was so late” You say, checking your phone. “You probably want to get home, so I won’t keep you.” You had felt guilty. He spent today battling villains and now he couldn’t go home because somebody couldn’t stay awake long enough to keep their sad meal from turning into an almost house fire.

Sero didn’t seem to mind standing there with you at all, however. “No, it’s fine.” he reassured, “I really don’t mind. Besides, you’re pretty attractive yourself.” Wait-

He grins and continues “ Also, I was hoping that while I was getting your number, you could tell me what it was you were cooking in that pot, because I couldn’t figure it out.

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Thank you for 100+ followers!!! idk why y’all are here but you are and I appreciate it.

#sero hanta #sero x reader #sero x y/n #sero simps hmu #pro hero sero #really this is just a story of how I almost died but with Sero

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wallwriterstuff · 4 years

Text

S’Language Lessons || Alec Volturi x Reader ||

This is just a fun little thing based off of this post ----> Reckless <---- by the wonderful @cullens-stuff

Words: 1584

Warnings: None!

Summary: You meet your mate Alec on a dark night where he’s forced to save your life, but the age gap seems to be creating a communication barrier between you.

You really shouldn’t have been on the street that night.

The reports of mysterious deaths in your neighbourhood had skyrocketed recently and the news was full of grim articles about exsanguinated corpses and bodies with missing limbs. There was no pattern, no connection between the people that had died; in short, everybody was a target, and everyone was a suspect. The people in your apartment block now bowed their heads and hurried on by instead of waving or nodding in greeting. People on the street stared holes in your head if you lingered too long on street corners or outside store fronts. You really shouldn’t have been out that night but you didn’t have a choice, not once your electricity went kerplunk. You were right in the middle of a paper, due tomorrow of course, with your laptop ready to die in the next hour and your meter needing a top up you had no choice but to venture out.

Getting dragged into a dark alley hadn’t been the plan, and you knew you were very fortunate that they’d come along when they had. Whoever had you moved too fast to see, their grip on you harsh and cold. You were covered in bruises and a few scrapes by the time you were flung to the ground, screaming bloody murder and seeing two of everything till your vision cleared. Your attacker had turned out to be a red headed male wearing grungy clothing with vibrant red eyes, but he looked far less threatening writhing on the floor in agony. You’d been absolutely frozen, too afraid to move when you saw the bright, crimson eyes pinning him to the floor, a sadistic smile on the little blonde’s face as she asked someone called Felix to take care of ‘that’. Since you assumed ‘that’ was you, a burst of adrenaline got you running. How he’d gotten around you to hem you back into the alleyway you weren’t sure but Felix’s giant frame was very much blocking your exit.

“You aren’t the BFG, are you?” you’d stammered, brain short circuiting. It had made the big guy tilt his head as he prowled closer, and you’d whined softly in terror. “Come on man, truce?” you pleaded. There was a cold touch on your arm, the tickle of soft hair against your temple and something cool and slender skimming your throat.

“Enough. She’s coming with us.” The voice was almost as cool as the breath that brushed your cheek, and everything had gone black pretty quickly after that. Your paper suddenly seemed very…inconsequential. Who cared about tectonic theory when you had discovered vampires existed? Actually…you did. You wanted to finish your degree, so with a bit of begging on your part and some organisational skill from the secretary, you had special circumstances and your course was to be complete online. Come the spring you’d have your degree in hand and be a college graduate, then you’d have absolutely no unfinished business with your professors and tutors, you could vanish without a trace and start living out eternity in Italy with Alec.

Your current research wasn’t going too well though. What you had thought was good information had turned out to be utterly irrelevant - unless you wanted to rewrite a whole chunk of your paper that was - so you scrunched the paper you’d been scribbling your notes on in one hand and lined up your shot with the wastepaper basket. You never kept it near your desk, it was way more fun to keep it across the room to launch your paper into it like the next big NBA start whenever you got the chance. You reared your arm back, eyes narrowed on your target, and when you were sure your shot lined up, you threw it.

“Yeet!” you crowed, eyes wide as you watched your paper ball sail through the air. Alec knocked and entered at exactly the same time, his eyes tracking the scrunched up ball as it smacked the wall and fell into the basket below. Arms lifting, you grinned and span your chair around with a cheer. “And Y/N sinks it like the mvp I am!” you stopped spinning to face Alec smugly, one ankle crossed over your knee and your hands linking behind your head. “Here for an autograph?” you asked with a wink. Alec’s eyes rolled as he crossed to sit on the edge of your desk.

“I see the studying is going well.” He observed, eyes tracking over your pages of notes and the twenty plus open tabs on your laptop. You heaved a sigh.

“It’s…going.” You answered evasively. Alec didn’t comment, his eyes drifting back towards the wastepaper basket target you’d set up for yourself. He was very quiet, the expression on his face contemplative. Your eyebrows rose a bit and you settled back in your seat to watch him. His side profile was glorious, you had to admit. His jawline was a little rounded, soft with his perpetual youth, but his cheek bones were high and his lashes long and dark around those deep burgundy eyes. The light coming in from your bedroom window was shattering against his skin, refracting off of him like he was a human disco ball. He looked absolutely ethereal like this, an inhuman, impossible being on the edge of your desk that for whatever reason, wanted crazy little you.

“Y/N, you recall we discussed my age once, yes?” he asked finally, turning his eyes back to yours. Your heart skittered since he’d caught you so openly staring at him, and the small twitch of his lips made you certain he’d heard it.

“Yeah, I remember you’re an old fogey.” You teased, trying to play it cool. Alec’s nose wrinkled briefly.

“Perhaps it is my age, but I do not understand your language.” He admitted. You pursed your lips, trying hard to fight the smile threatening to break out. You failed epically, a slight giggle escaping you.

“Sorry, I just…you all speak so formally around here, it’s no surprise you don’t know slang.” You said. Alec sighed.

“Humans have become so lazy with language, even the words they do use correctly are rarely fully enunciated,” He retorted wryly, “Though I suppose it is what happens when time passes. Things evolve. Will you teach me?” You blinked in surprise. Alec wanted to learn slang? Oh…oh. He waited patiently for you to answer him while your mind reeled with all the possibilities, a wicked smile spreading across your face.

“Where do you want to start? Slang or text speak?” you questioned. Alec actually squinted.

“Is there a difference?” he asked, sounding more wary now. You all but cackled in delight and sensing the sudden shift in your mood, he held his hands up to placate you. “Perhaps we can start with the words you used earlier. What is yeet?” You pushed to your feet and shook your head vehemently.

“It’s not yeet, it’s yeet!” you threw an added emphasis on the ye part and pretended to throw another ball into the wastepaper basket. Alec frowned.

“Ye-e-et?” he tried. Your head tilted.

“Okay we’ll work on pronunciation later. Definition of the word…erm, well, it’s just something you yell when you throw something like I did earlier, you know? So, here-“ you scrunched up some more paper from your notebook and handed him the ball, “-you can yeet it into the waste basket.” You demonstrated for added effect, and after taking a moment to scrunch up the paper a little more, he reared his arm back.

“Yeet!” he sounded a little vicious, enough to make you shudder, but his expression was expectant when he turned to look at you, like a puppy wanting praise. You had to introduce him to a high five then, and you had no idea what sort of a monster you’d made until you had settled in the common room a little over a week later, snuggled in a blanket so you could curl up against Alec without fear of catching pneumonia anytime soon.

“It’s a classic Felix! Of course we should watch it.” Demetri sounded exasperated, no doubt bored of the argument the pair had been having since early afternoon about what movie to watch tonight on a rare night off. Jane sat primly in her favourite armchair across from them, looking thoroughly bored with their dramatics. Alec sighed, tightening his grip on you.

“Demetri don’t be such an old fogey.” He chipped in. The room fell utterly silent, your own head swivelling to look up at your mate. You were shocked he’d used it so causally, and given the look on his face it had surprised Alec too.

“I beg your pardon? I am a what now?” Demetri questioned, looking confused as to whether or not he should be offended. Alec opened and closed his mouth slightly, looking to you for help getting out of this one. You bit your lip, hand moving up to smother your smile.

“Chillax D, it’s a compliment.” You grinned. Demetri frowned, eyes searching your face suspiciously for a moment before he sat a little straighter, chest puffing slightly.

“Hear that Felix. I’m a fogey. You should listen to me more often.” He chastised. You barely contained your laughter, Alec’s own frame shaking silently. His lips brushed your ear as he leaned down to whisper a single word in your ear.

“Lol.”

You burst out laughing. Maybe teaching Alec slang hadn’t been such a bad idea after all?

#twilight #twilight imagine #twilight x reader #volturi #alec volturi fanfiction #alec volturi #alec volturi x reader #x reader #demetri volturi #volturi fanfiction

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tobi-momo · 3 years

Text

Contradicting Colors

Pairing: Model!Kirishima x Photographer!Reader

Genre: Romance, Fluff, a lil pining

Word Count: 3.1k (sry not sry :p)

Synopsis: When given a new project due within a week from your boss, frustration is all you can see before a certain someone becomes your inspiration.

Warnings: alcohol consumption (barely anything), cursing

a/n: omg its finally here!! valentines day!! im so excited to be a part of Project Runway, featuring many other amazing writers! pls pls pls enjoy this i had so much fun writing it and even though i changed the plot halfway through i made it work- kind of. this is only proofread once, so if you see any mistakes i am so sorry kaskjdsf- happy valentine's day everyone and i hope you guys have an amazing day with your friends/ loved ones <3333

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

“Yes. Yes, sir. I understand.” The volume of your voice graduating slowly as you move to balance your phone between your shoulder and your cheek, your hands moving to grab your camera, the strap in the way of you comfortably holding your phone. “Next week? How many?” You hold in a sigh as you furrow your eyebrows in frustration, not wanting your irritated expression to show through the phone. “Yes, I can do that. Thank you. Bye.” Ending the call with a low beep, you whine in frustration while you turn around, taking in your surroundings.

What were you gonna do? You had a week to send your boss a couple hundred pictures of bright, unique pictures. In the middle of winter he decides to assign you this project. ‘To show off the start of spring!’ he says. You loved your job, but couldn’t you at least have an easier task in the winter than this?

Maybe you could find inspiration somewhere in the park. Something bright and unique, huh? Shouldn’t be too hard. The fog wasn’t really helping though, masking the natural essence of the park, although you could still see happy couples walking around, hand in hand while they talk about God knows what. Young women walking their little dogs down the walkway, while others are out for their morning run. This wasn’t helping. Central Park would be an amazing place to find inspiration, you thought. No. It wasn’t. Especially with the dreary weather, you weren’t hopeful.

Boring. That’s what this was. Boring. The boring weather, the boring mood, the boring assignment, the boring-

Bright red, spiky hair pops into your vision, sticking out like a sore thumb in this weather. What is that?

The red head turns towards you, although facing his phone, scrolling through whatever occupied his screen. He didn’t seem to notice you staring at him in awe, or the fact that he just became your new inspiration. His bright scarlet hair contradicting the slow, sad, tired weather, brightening the whole scene. He looks like he would have a beautiful smile, and his build looks like he would give the best hugs.

You are thinking way too hard about this. But… you do need some pictures for inspiration, so why not ask him? He radiates sunshine through the fog, even if he was doing something so mundane as looking on his phone. Just ask him, that’s it. Just. Ask him.

Taking a step forward, you grab the strap of your camera, sliding your phone in your jacket pocket before taking the last sip of your coffee, throwing it in the metal trash bin a few feet away from you.

“Um, sir?” You ask politely, your hand raised in a half wave, hoping he understands that you are the one calling him. “Hi, I’m Y/n L/n, and I was wondering if you’d let me take your picture for an article i’m doing,” you continue, trying your best to sweet talk and not lose him. He smiles politely, but it doesn’t look genuine. It looks like he’s done this before, many times, now that you think about it.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes, bringing his hand to the back of his neck, awkwardly scratching. Shit. You lost him. “Although I’m glad you guys asked for permission this time I don’t want anymore pictures taken.”

Huh? What the hell was he talking about?

“What?” You question, utterly confused. His head reaches out around you, looking around in the bushes, round the trees, though his vision murky from the fog.

“Sorry, but you guys have been following me everywhere. I’m just on my way to work, you guys don’t need a picture of me everywhere I go.”

Who was following him? What the hell is he talking about?

“Who’s following you?” You turn your head around you, trying to find the imaginary people around you two. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“No need to act all clueless, I found out you were paparazzi, so just go home,” he says with an attitude that irks you.

Now you were mad. Obviously being patient with him wasn’t working.

“Sir, I don’t know who you are, or why the paparazzi is following you, but I am not one of them.” His eyes widen in shock, looking between yours to see a fault, not succeeding. “Do you talk to every stranger like you’re some celebrity that can’t be bothered?” His head jolts back, as if he was offended. “If this is the way you act, honestly I’m surprised anyone likes you, let alone the paparazzi.” His mouth opens in protest, words failing to find their way out as you continue to spit words at him in anger.

Something catches his attention, causing his head to snap up, his eyes squinting to try and see through the fog. He hears a couple clicks, then sighs, looking back at you.

“This project is due in a week and y-”

“Okay, I’m sorry, just, could you be quiet for a sec?”

“Quiet? With all due respect you can’t tell me wha-”

~Click, click, click~

His hands slam on your shoulder moving you forward and rotating your body; your back faced the walkway, you trying to turn your head from the giant tree in front of you. “He- hey! What are you doing?”

A bright flash blinds your vision, your arms immediately come to guard your face, your knees bending as if to try and duck from the light.

“What the hell?”

He gives you a sympathetic look, then grabs your arm, dragging you away from the lights. Or, he was attempting to.

“I told you, the paparazzi likes to follow me everywhere.” His rushed pace speeding up while he drags you with him, your hands flailing around, trying to find a grip.

“Hey, let me go!” You shout, his head shaking before leaving the park, tugging you in an alley before stopping, his hands still firmly gripping your arms, keeping you in place. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Stop talking for one second!” He interrupts you, his expression seeming a little...pissed. “I told you, the paparazzi is following me around, what don’t you get?”

“Why?” His face turns into a sort of confusion, like he expected you to know who he is.

“Wh- i’m,” he exhales sharply, frustrated. His eyes drill into yours, again scanning to try and see how you’re not understanding. Were you really this dense? “I’m Kirishima Eijiro!”

“Who?” He backs up, his head tilting to the side. Huh. You really didn’t know. That’s the first. Seriously.

Sighing, he lets out a little chuckle. You couldn’t help but giggle a little back at the situation, the whole ordeal not making you as mad anymore. A few snickers turning into having to clutch your stomach in hopes that it doesn’t cramp from you wheezing too hard. You could see Kirishima leaning on the wall to try and not collapse on the cement. Was it a sort of rush? Was it the complete obliviousness? Hell if you know, but God, did it feel good.

You understood why he dismissed you, and why he said the things he did, knowing that the paparazzi came anyways just making you feel even more stupid for not catching on quicker. His smile definitely is breathtaking, but you still needed to find out if he gives the best hugs. Maybe one day, but not while you guys are struggling to stand up.

“I’m guessing running away to an empty alley wasn’t exactly ideal for taking pictures, huh?” He pokes, calming himself down, a lot more comfortable with the atmosphere.

“Yeah, you’re right, but i’ll just find some more inspiration later,” you respond, remembering his refusal.

“Oh, I mean, you could, or I could always help you after some coffee?” He proposes, like it was a risk.

“Coffee, huh? Well, I already filled myself up on that today, but thank you,” you turn him down politely, “but maybe tomorrow? Would that be alright?”

He smiles, a soft, sweet smile that will definitely not leave your head for the next few days, nodding while standing straight up with his feet fully planted on the pavement. A cute, innocent blush creeps upon his face, his expression making you not want to leave. But alas, you were on your way to work.

“Um, I should- I should go, I can’t be late, but I’m sure that I’ll be able to find you somewhere, being the Kirishima Eijiro,” you tease. He understands, and doesn’t want to keep you waiting, so he watches you leave, his eyes trailing along your legs as you turn the corner, disappearing from his view.

Wow. You were mesmerizing. Why is it now he’s just experiencing something like that? He loved it and hated it at the same time. But now he has to deal with the publicity of what just happened. Shit. He needed to get that covered up. Before he could even dial his publicist, a notification pops up on his screen:

“Y/N L/N has followed you”

A smile of relief and a sort of excitement crawls on his face as he taps on your account, scrolling through the pictures that you’ve taken with your camera. He didn’t think you were that good but, damn, was he wrong. You were good with your colors; he liked that. Maybe him being your model could be better than he thought.

~.~.~.~

“Kirishima, no, you can’t just- don’t move!”

“What, I’m just making it better!”

“You mean you’re making it worse!” You laugh, turning your camera and pressing the shutter button as Kirishima jokes and teases, messing around like an absolute child. Which you can’t help but adore. The past few days you guys had spent together was absolute heaven, almost like you never had any problems. The stressful assignment now turned into a fun project as you two walk around the city, talking about yourselves, getting to know each other before parting to see each other on a new dawn. Him being your model was perfect, although knowing he didn’t have much time until his shows, you tried to pry yourself into his schedule. He didn’t mind it either.

“Okay, okay, what abooouutt, this!” He exclaims as he holds his arms up, flexing his muscles with a cheery grin decorating his face.

“Mm, absolutely beautiful. You look so manly,” you joke sarcastically.

“That’s good! That’s what I’m goin’ for,” he replies. You giggle at his statement, not understanding why everything he says is funny, and why you laugh every time.

“Annndddd, last one!” You shout before the shutter clicks and the light flashes at Kirishima, who is unbelievably keeping his pose perfectly. “Okay, I think these are enough for now. Thank you again, Kirishima, I would completely lose hope if you didn’t offer.”

“Hey, It’s no problem, plus, technically you asked me first- I didn’t offer.”

“I guess you’re right, but still.”

“Right, right. I get it. But this is fun so I’d rather be doing nothing else.” Oh, how you loved those words. You wanted to hear them more often. You just wanted to hear his voice more.

“Well that’s good. I-” you interrupt yourself before grabbing your phone from your vibrating phone from your pocket, a text from your boss telling you to come in late. “Oh, I guess I gotta go,” you both frown, “but I’ll see you tomorrow!”

“Wait! I uh, I wanted to ask you something.” You stop before him, his eyes suddenly not wanting to find yours. “I have a plus one to my shows, if you want to come,” his eyes widen and he quickly back pedals his words, “you don’t have to! I was just curious!”

“Sure!” You beam, absolutely delighted with the thought of going to one of his shows. You’ve seen his pictures. He was incredibly good at what he does, and you wanted to see all the seriousness of it up front.

“Really?” He hesitates, as if he didn’t hear you correctly the first time.

“Of course! I’d love to! I shouldn’t take pictures though, should I? Maybe a video? I’ve seen videos of people but I don’t think-”

“Yeah, you can take pictures, as many as you want. Plus, being at my show would help with your boss, right?”

“Mhm!”

“Great! Then it’s a date!”

His face immediately freezes, the blood disappearing from his face then suddenly reappearing like a firework, turning his face a heated red that only made you blush further.

A- a date?

“Uh, yeah,” you try to play it off, trying not to explode with seven different emotions at once, “it’s a date,” you emphasize the word ‘date’, it getting caught in your mouth and hard to come out once you grasp what you’re saying. Man, you two looked like middle schoolers.

~.~.~.~

Arriving at his show, you did not expect this many people. Well, you expected it, but didn’t want it to be true. It was like you were being trampled on trying to get into your seat. The paparazzi wouldn’t stop bombarding you and Kirishima, wondering if you were his ‘new lucky girl’. You politely waved at them, although the urge to flip them off once they got too close was starting to overflow your system. Kirishima was there to pull you aside though, telling you not to worry about them, leading you inside. He left you by your seat to go get ready; it was obvious he was nervous, but your attempt at cheering him up seemed to work.

The announcements run quickly before the stage lights flash on, the music starts, and the colored LED lights fill the runway.

~.~.~.~

You were in shock. Absolute shock. You could barely process what was going on during the afterparty, one that Kirishima took you to after the show. You couldn’t stop thinking about it. He winked at you. On. Stage. In front of everyone! You were pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to do that, but he did. And the result? You being unresponsive even two hours after the event.

“Y/n, it was just a wink! No need to get so nervous!” Kirishima yells over the music, trying to shake you out of it, trying to get you to loosen up, maybe even have a drink if you wanted, just, not stare into space with your mouth open. “Here, I am going to make you a drink, my signature, and I want to know if you like it, okay?”

You nod, your eyes coming off the crowd to his beautiful red eyes. “I don’t want to drink much tonight, tho. I have to be functional for my project tomorrow, remember?”

“Mhm, that’s why I’m only giving you a sip. I’m not gonna drink either, these parties always have some weird stuff in everything, so don’t take anything from anyone except me, okay?”

“Sure. But, do we really have to stay here? I mean, watching other people get stupid drunk is fun but the music is loud and we can barely hear each other,” you shout, him agreeing with you.

“Alright, just stay here I’ll be right back, we’ll leave soon, okay?”

He comes back in a quick minute, a small crystal glass with a pink liquid inside, sparkling as the bubbles of carbonation rise to the top.

“What’s it called?”

He shrugs, perking his lip out. “I haven’t thought of a name yet, never really intended to. Just try it.” Rolling your eyes, you bring the glass up to your lips, then turning the glass upwards, emptying the alcohol into your throat, although there isn’t much of a burning sensation like you thought there would be, more of a gross wine taste. This was champagne. He laughs at you when you completely deadpan him, trying not to smile. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I didn’t have a signature drink. I just wanted you to try the champagne.”

“Why didn’t you offer the champagne then?” You accidentally let a laugh out, still trying to be serious.

“I just thought it would be funny.”

“Well, funny you are, mister manly man,” you tease. You always thought it was cute and funny when he got super giddy when you called him manly, it’s something he likes to be told, obviously. “Let’s go somewhere else, now, shall we?” You perk up, his arm out for you to grab and hold onto as he leads you outside to his ride. He opens the door for you, then closes it once you’re in, hopping in the other side.

“So, where do ya wanna go?”

“I don’t know, actually, I guess I didn’t think of that,” you chuckle.

“Well, I know a place if you’re up for it. It’s not that far and I’m sure you’ll like it.”

“Sure, let’s go then.”

~.~.~.~

Flowers. Everywhere. Covering the field and illuminating in the moonlight. Pink round petals sticking from the center of the top of the light green stems, yellow and purple daisies rest in the meadow, their colors contradicting each other perfectly as the stars make everything glow. The clear skies make the rest of the clear visible to you, hills full of tulips and carnations. Dragonflies and butterflies roam the air, making it their home. This was magic. You couldn’t believe your eyes. How did he find this place?

“Kiris-” you stutter, turning towards him, an excited and happy look on your face, “this- this is beautiful. How did you find this? Oh my god.” You couldn’t help but chortle at the sight. It was too beautiful. He takes a step closer to you, his gaze at the grass below him.

“I thought it was perfect for your project, you know? The start of spring? These flowers and the butterflies and th-”

He couldn’t speak. His voice was muffled by your soft lips on his, your hands moving to cup his face while you screw your eyes shut. He’s surprised, to say the least, not expecting this. You tasted like champagne, but he didn’t hate it at all. He liked it, more than he thought he would. He places his hand on your waist, pulling you closer, wanting more of you. You don’t even realize how much time passes as you two stay in each other’s grip before you disconnect. The feeling in your body was euphoric, you never wanted it to go away. His hands graze up your waist and up to your face, cupping it gently before he leans in to press little kisses on your cheeks before straying away from your touch.

“Let’s take those pictures, now, shall we?”

~.~.~.~

taglist: @combat-wombatus @toosharkinternet @hitosushi @alpha3113 @katsuhera @zerohawks

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ecoamerica · 23 days

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elenamiria · 4 years

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Boyfriend Pt. 2

Javier Peña x Reader You and Javier both seem content not to acknowledge what happened between the two of you making work awkward. To solve this Javier goes back to his old habits causing you a great deal of jealousy. However when you seek out someone to push Javier out of your mind things don’t quite go according to plan.

Word Count: 6.3k

Warnings: Swearing, minor angst, drinking, smoking, fem reader, smut - unprotected sex, oral (m and f receiving), no pulling out, dirty talk, slightly rough sex, nipple play, possessive Javi, aftercare

Boyfriend Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3

Quick little note for the content, in this fic I discuss Bachata. Bachata is a dance that when danced with the right partner can be intimate and sexy however as a dance it itself is perfectly innocent, it’s a very common dance now though in the 80′s when this fic takes place it was only just rising to prominence as it was looked down on when it first came out. There’s a lot of political history behind the dance and if you’re interested in learning more about it there’s an excellent article about it here. Also if you have no clue what Bachata looks like or is I recommend watching this video before reading the fic! This is an example of great chemistry in between partners. Also thank you all so much for the support on the first part of this fic!! Everyone was so sweet, I’ll be responding to everyone later tonight, for now enjoy! I love each and every one of you who read this fic, whether or not you like or lurk - it’s all welcome and appreciated so much!! Tags: @blxwjobsforclones @fishswimbetterunderwater @aeryntheofficial @corrupt-fvcker (just in case you wanna read the next part🥺)

The second time you and Javier Peña fucked was about two weeks later. Though only after both of you couldn't contain your jealousy any more.

A few days after the car incident Javier still couldn’t stop thinking about it, about you. Your words kept replaying over in his head, ‘it wasn’t anything’, and he kept replaying his own stupid words over and over too. He should’ve said something to you about how you made him feel, about how when he saw you go down he swore his heart stopped and how when you kissed him nothing had ever felt so right before. Instead he chickened out and brushed you off like it was nothing, which is what he convinced himself it was to you - nothing.

Things had grown tense between you two where normally easy quips filled the air, leaving Steve to roll his eyes, there was silence. And when he tested the waters with a gentle compliment you simply said ‘thanks’ and went about your day. He couldn’t lie he missed the playful flirting that always flowed so naturally between the two of you and when the silence between the two of you didn’t seem to change, causing his stress levels to skyrocket, he turned back to what he was used to. That just so happened to be dealing with his feelings through sex, though not with you that would be too simple. He turned back to fucking informants, he hadn’t stopped once he realized his feelings for you but it had definitely slowed him down but now it was like a dam broke and he couldn’t stop himself.

You had been slightly suspicious when suddenly Javi was bringing more info to the table, remembering when you first arrived to Colombia Steve giving you a warning about your other partners unusual methods, but you pushed any concerns aside as you threw yourself into work. You had started bringing work home to distract you from the object of your affection who, in an unfortunate turn of events, lived directly below you. Noise didn’t carry much from below up but you were sure he could hear you moving above him, as you could always hear the person above you. So, you weren’t aware of Javier’s steady stream of lovers until a poorly timed cigarette break.

You didn’t smoke often so you weren’t sure why you couldn’t shake the need for a cig, sighing you put aside your tedious task of the night (combing through call logs for a specific number) and fetched your carton and lighter. Locking your apartment and double checking you hustled down the steps and out of the lobby, only sparing a glance at Javi’s door. With another sigh you leaned against the building and lit up, taking a deep drag you let your eyes close before exhaling. Maybe it was good to take a break, your eyes were struggling in the poor lighting and you had started to re read the same numbers accidentally, the fresh air was reviving your brain somewhat. Taking another deep drag you started to plan out the rest of your night but we’re distracted by the noise of the opening lobby door. Opening your eyes you glanced over preparing a polite smile as you exhaled but when you spotted who it was you instead choked on the smoke. Turning quickly you prayed that he wouldn’t notice you.

As you continued to choke you tried not to think about how you had just witnessed Javier shoving his tongue down the throat of some skimpily dressed beautiful girl. Finally catching your breath you were quiet just long enough to here the girl purr out “when can I see you again Javier?”

You hated the way your heart clenched at that and angrily took a deep inhale of your cigarette, though inhaling so sharply only caused you to choke again. Swearing you tried to cough as quietly as possible though that clearly didn’t work when you heard Javier call your name, clear concern in his voice. You turned to him with a shaky smile as you caught your breath. When he saw you weren’t dying he laughed softly and raised his brow questioning, “First ever cigarette?”

You laughed as you finally caught your breath though you’re eyes were watering and responded with a simple, “Nah, surprisingly it’s not”

There was an awkward pause where both of you stared at each other for a bit though you broke contact blinking quickly and before you could stop yourself you blurted out, “Should I be concerned?”

Javier frowned at you, confusion blanketing his face as he dumbly responded “What?”

That should’ve been your cue to drop the topic and your brain was screaming at you but your big mouth seemed to have a mind of its own as you gestured towards the road where the girl had just caught a cab, “You just fucked her, right? And we- ya know, but you didn’t use a...”

You felt your face grow hot and took another drag as Javier stared at you, face tight with tension. He seemed like he was going to respond before he shifted, placing his hands on his hips and questioning “You really wanna have this conversation out here?”

You felt your embarrassment growing and you shook your head as you groaned. Your hand came up to rest on your forehead in stress as you backed down, “No Javi, I’m sorry. I don’t even know why I said anything, ignore me. I’m a mess.”

“You’re gonna be more than a mess if you don’t move your hand, Jesus you’ll set your hair on fire.” Then his hand was on yours gently moving your lit cigarette from it’s precarious position over your hair. Letting out yet another groan you let your head fall onto the brick building, which hurt far more than you cared to admit due to your still healing head wound, as you whined “What’s wrong with me?!”

In your self pity you failed to notice the way Javier staying tenderly clasping your wrist, affectionate smile on his face and this time it was him who spoke without thinking, “Do you want to come over for a drink?”

He expected total rejection considering what you had just seen but when you offered a happy little grin at the opportunity he felt a warmth fill his chest. The two of you headed to his apartment and it was only then that he remembered he only had whiskey but luckily you told him that was fine. Once you had a drink in hand the tension that had plagued you seemed to melt away and the two of you were back to your usual teasing. You spent the night laughing together and sharing intimate details of your lives that you hadn’t gotten the chance to talk about at work, though it was mainly you doing the sharing. When you were thoroughly tipsy you swung the conversation back to what you had originally asked and were relieved, and secretly pleased, when Javier told you that he always used condoms. The tables were reversed when he thought about it for a second then in a panic asked you if you were on birth control to which you responded with a laughing yes.

Time flew and it was soon far past time for you to go to sleep and still get a reasonable amount before work, you knew you were going to regret your decisions when you spent the work day half asleep but it was worth any grief you would go through. When you said you should go to bed Javier insisted on walking you to your apartment despite your protests that nothing was going to happen on your return which involved walking up a flight of stairs and that's it.

When you reached your door and unlocked it you turned to find Javi standing much closer than anticipated, staring down at you with his warm brown eyes. A small gasp left your throat and your hand absentmindedly came up to play with the buttons of his shirt. You swallowed deeply when you realized how desperately you wanted to kiss him, your lips part slightly and your head tilted inhibitions lowered by the steady thrum of alcohol. It wasn’t until you felt yourself moving forward that you snapped yourself out of it. Pulling back like you were burned you bit your lip before softly muttering, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Javi.”

As you started to enter your apartment you paused, turning towards him with an enamored smile “and thanks for the drink, I had a really great time”

Javier gave you a genuine smile back as he replied, “Me too cariño, I’ll see you tomorrow”

The two of you continued this routine frequently, your body always sending you on a smoke break right when Javier was escorting out his latest ‘friend’ - you swore your brain was trying to torture you into quitting. You still felt your jealousy flare up every time but you were able to quell the flames knowing that you were the one who was over every night and you were the one bringing genuine smiles and laughs to him. It wasn’t until you saw the same girl leaving his place three times in a row that you snapped, jealousy swirling inside you. When he asked you over for a drink you brushed him off storming back to your apartment and calling up one of your only friends outside of work. She had started out as an informant, a journalist who stumbled onto a trail, but she quickly became a friend though to maintain your friendship both of you agreed to no work talk. Luckily the next day was a weekend and with minimal begging she agreed to go out with you.

At work the next day Javi could tell something was up, you were antsy the whole day and kept glancing at the clock. When Steve questioned you, “got a hot date or something?”, Javier felt himself tense but when you responded that you were going out with your friend he relaxed slightly, though he still wasn't fond of the idea. As soon as you were able to leave you bolted, stopped only by Javi grabbing your hand and a quiet reminder to be careful and then you were on your way to get ready. You chose a silky slip dress that complimented your curves and you carefully applied makeup for the first time in forever. When you were ready you called for a cab and headed to the nightclub, intending on finding someone to distract you from one Agent Peña.

That ended up being just what you did, finding a handsome stranger to dance the night away with and you invited him back to your place, determined to finally push thoughts of Javier out of your mind.

When you arrived to your building you both stumbled out of the cab, he paid as you keyed into the lobby. Grabbing his hand you pulled him into you to press a messy kiss to his lips as you backed up, this plan backfired when you tripped on the stairs and you let a burst of giggles past your lips.

Unbeknownst to you this caught the ear of a certain DEA agent who had stayed up to make sure you got back in one piece. He was about to open his door to tease you when he heard a male voice echo in the empty hallway. He cracked the door open just in time to hear you huskily laugh out “Callate la boca y dame un beso”

His heart lurched at your voice and he wished you were speaking to him instead of the man who was eagerly kissing you. He knew he shouldn’t watch but he couldn’t help it while jealousy reared its head as you broke apart and pulled the man up to your apartment. Shutting his door aggressively he sighed and poured himself a generous amount of whiskey before sinking onto his couch, contemplating calling one of the girls he had seen recently.

He could hear your footsteps above him and thankfully they grew fainter as you moved to the bedroom. Taking a deep swig he lit up a cigarette, mouth twitching in annoyance. He knew he was being hypocritical but seeing someone else with their hands all over you made his blood boil. He took a deep drag from his cigarette before freezing and exhaling sharply. He could hear your bed frame rattling.

Practically downing his drink he knew it wouldn’t take the edge off, the only thing that could soothe him tonight would be you. As he angrily puffed at his cigarette he paused, in all the time you had lived above him he couldn’t remember having to listen to you fuck someone else, had he just been ignorant to your activities or had you never brought anyone back before.

Getting up for more whiskey he sighed running a hand over his face, he was such an idiot. He couldn’t believe he let you see all of those girls leaving his apartment, though did it even matter to you? He didn’t know, part of him hoped it did but another part realized if it did matter to you then that made him a massive asshole. He was so focused on his thoughts he hadn’t realized that the rhythmic scraping noises had stopped. It wasn’t until he finished his cigarette that he realized your apartment was quiet. Pausing he listened more intensely, he thought for sure he was going to have to listen to you cry out in pleasure as you had been very vocal in the car.

Hearing footsteps and noises that were decidedly not fucking he frowned, puzzled, as he sat there until he heard what sounded like the two of you leaving the apartment. Sure enough a minute later he heard two sets of footsteps coming down the stairs and the lobby door opening. He frowned, he was sure of the noises he heard but they had only lasted a few minutes, there was no way you had gotten off that quickly. Hesitantly he made his way to the lobby and watched through the frosted glass as a cab pulled up and the blurry figures standing outside came together in a kiss before the taller one walked off.

You lit up a cigarette at frustrated tears filled your eyes. Not only had you not cum, your body still humming desperately, the whole time this man was fucking you the only thing you could think of was Javi - which was the exact opposite of what you were trying to achieve. Frustration filled your body at the thought that Javier was moving on with his life like normal and here you were hung up on a man who had no idea your feelings for him. Taking a deep drag you felt a tear slip from your eye and a moment later the door opened to reveal Javier. You frantically turned your head to the side, trying to hide what you were sure was a miserable expression on your face.

When he called your name you shook your head in response though this only caused him to worry and in a second he was at your side. His hands gripped your bare elbows tightly, voice coming out in a deep growl “Did he hurt you cariño? I’ll kill him I swear.”

You sharply turned to him, a small smile filling your face at his protective nature. You weakly responded,”No, it’s nothing like that he was a gentleman. I just...”

You trailed off not knowing what to say, I mean what could you say ‘I couldn’t stop thinking about you and thought screwing a stranger would distract me but I wished it was you the whole time’ that would go over well. So, Instead of coming up with anything productive to say you took another deep inhale of your cigarette, tilting your head so you wouldn’t blow smoke in Javi’s face.

In your silence Javier’s hand slid to your back, lightly trailing up your spine as he murmured “Did he make you cum hermosa?”

You shivered at both his touch and his voice, eyes darting to meet his darkened pools. Entranced you shook your head as his other hand came to wipe a stray tear away. He pulled you closer to him as his voice dropped to a whisper as he asked, “would you like to?”

A whine left your throat as you needily breathed out “Yes”

Then he was cupping the back of your head and tugging you into a slow sensual kiss. You responded eagerly though he kept his pace leisurely and you let out a low moan as his tongue swiped at your lips. Parting your lips he slipped his tongue in light and teasing before he pulled back, leaving you chasing his mouth. A deep chuckle left him as he gently pulled you back into your building and he took a drag from the cigarette he had stolen from your fingers while kissing you.

Javier walked into his apartment moving to extinguish the cigarette and you followed tentatively. You were suddenly nervous entering his apartment, even though you had spent most nights here for the past two weeks it suddenly felt so intimate. The last time you two had been together it was so spur of the moment there wasn’t time to think about what was happening. Now all you could focus on was what was about to happen and your mind moved to all the girls you had watched leave this very apartment, how could you even compare to all of them. You startled out of your thoughts at the sound of music, Javi having turned on his radio before making his way over to you.

You stayed frozen to the spot, staring with wide eyes as your partner walked over towards you. As if sensing your tension Javi gently took your hand in his and the other came to rest on your waist, pulling you slightly closer he began to sway you to the beat of the music.

At this you started to relax, dancing made sense and dancing you could deal with. As you softened in his arms and began to mimic his movements he allowed himself to take lead in a basic salsa. You smiled up at him with a teasing, “I didn’t know you could dance Agent Peña”

“Oh, I know how to dance” he quipped back before turning the two of you in a slow circle, when you followed without problem he started to test the waters with a few more complicated steps. As you continued following his lead he cocked his head, “Now either I’m missing something or you spend a lot of time in clubs, how do you know how to salsa so well?”

You laughed responding, “I used to dance at home, I did ballroom for a long time so I had a leg up when it came to learning. So you don’t have to hold back if you really wanna lead.”

At your words a devilish smirk lit up Javier’s face and he pulled you closer as he let himself flow to the music leading you in a spectacular array of moves, you had a feeling he just wanted to show off. It was exhilarating dancing with him, he was an excellent lead always hinting where you would go next before the move and a smile covered your your face at the freeing sensation of letting go.

When the song ended you reluctantly parted as the announcer started talking, Javi turned towards the kitchen calling over his shoulder to see if you wanted a drink.

As you were about to respond the next song came on and you instead asked, “Javi do you know bachata??”

Starting into the rhythm - three steps to one side and a hip raise then repeat the other way - you danced with yourself as Boca Rosa filled his living room. Javier had come back at your question a stern look on his face, he knew that you had definitely learned bachata in clubs and was intent on questioning just how many strange men you had danced with, until he watched the sway of your hips. The drinks in his hand were quickly set aside in favor of coming to pull you into him. You easily fell into the sensual closeness of the dance, Javi’s knee coming between your legs and you went back and forth for a few beats before a growl built in his throat. Spinning you forward away from him he then pulled you back to him so your back was pressed firmly to his chest. As you continued the basic step his hand rested on your ribs just below your chest, the other pushing your hand to swing around and rest on the back of his head. His face pressed into your neck as your hips rubbed against his, he couldn’t help the possessiveness that overcame him as he growled out, “Do you dance like this with other men cariño, did you dance with him like this?”

Grinding his hardening cock into your ass you whined when both his hands came to your hip as you swayed to the beat before he spun you away again. Once you were facing him again he grabbed your wrists trailing your own hands up your body and tugging you firmly back into him. You were practically kissing, noses bumping, and as his hand rose to bury in the hair at the nape of your neck you couldn’t help the moan that left your mouth. Your upper body swung in a half dip at the firm tug on your hair, Javi’s lips taking the opportunity to trail down your neck nipping lightly. When you came back up he teased at your lips with the quickest brush of his lips before swinging you out to the side and giving you a solo turn before he led you back to him. His leg slipped in between your legs again and in a non-bachata move pressed his thigh hard against the junction of your thighs, a pleased moan leaving your lips. You were already slick and after the mediocre sex you had earlier you had forgone underwear, clit catching as he rubbed his leg back and forth. Once he felt you creating a damp spot he pulled away hungry eyes trailing your body.

“Turn around, bend over the couch arm.”

His tone left no room for debate and you were eager to have him take control after your dance. You could feel your skirt rising as you bent over the couch and you were certain at your angle it was barely covering your wet pussy. You heard a sharp exhale and then large hands were sliding up the back of your thighs. Letting out a small whimper as Javi pushed your dress up over your hips you were unprepared when a hot breath hit your cunt and a yelp flew from your mouth. His hands came to grope at your ass, harshly grabbing handfuls as his mouth covered your lower lips. His experience was obvious as he absolutely devoured your pussy, nipping sucking and licking in all the right ways. Trying to hold back the noises that were pushing at your lips, the sheer amount of noise you were involuntarily producing was embarrassing, you only allowed small whimpers out. At this a loud clap rang out as Javi brought a hand down on your ass, instantly soothing the sting with gentle strokes of his hand. He pulled away slightly to growl out, “Let me hear you hermosa, you sound perfect”, before diving back into your pussy intent on making you cum.

Your mouth fell open in pleasure letting your noises flow freely and when a hand came to play with your clit your noises grew to pleas as your orgasm rapidly approached. Whining you arched back towards him, burying his face further in your cunt and another slap to your ass had you falling apart as the overwhelming pleasure mixed with the slight pain. Javier’s name flew out of your mouth as you almost sobbed from the pent up release, you ground back against his mouth and you felt him moan into you. He continued to play with your clit prolonging your pleasure as you heard him undoing his belt.

He finally pulled away once he was satisfied he licked up every bit of your cum and started unbuttoning his shirt. Hazy with pleasure you stood, wobbly in the heels you still hadn't removed and turned towards him to assist in removing his clothing.

As his shirt was ripped off you bit your lip and moved closer in order to pull him into a searing kiss, body heating again at finally being able to see him bare before you. Before he could deepen the kiss you pulled away trailing your lips down his neck, down his sternum and finally allowed yourself to nip your way down his stomach.

Landing on your knees before him you tugged his zipper down before pulling his pants down. You were surprised when his cock sprang free, it seemed you weren’t the only one going commando tonight and you licked your lips at the way his cock bobbed in front of you. Biting your lip your hand rose to stroke him gently, the other hand teasing at his balls.

A moan flew past Javi’s lips as you kissed his tip and what sounded like a low whimper came from him as you licked up and down his length getting him nice and wet before you finally took him in your mouth. Teasingly you kept a slow pace, only taking his tip, until a hand buried itself in your hair and Javi’s deep voice commanded ‘enough teasing, cariño’. You gave him the best innocent look you could when his dick was in your mouth before starting a faster pace, this time taking as much of him as you could. He was long and you couldn't fit him all in your mouth, hand stroking the portion left out, choking slightly whenever you would eagerly take him too deep. Whenever he hit the back of your throat his hips involuntarily bucked forward and stuttered gasps flew from his mouth. You knew you would absolutely hold yourself there, choking on his thick length as long as you could keep hearing those noises he was making. You kept your pace for a few minutes, varying how long you held him in your mouth sucking lightly until you bobbed your head again, before he pulled you off and you looked at him confused, his eyes were practically black in need as he purred out, “When I cum it’s going to be in your tight little pussy hermosa, are you wet enough for me?”

Reaching a hand between your legs he groaned in appreciation to find you absolutely soaked for him. Pulling you into a deep kiss he backed you up to the couch though rather than setting you down right away he allowed his hands to slide under your dress and gently tugging it over your head, moan leaving his throat as you were fully exposed to him. His hands traced your body reverently as he soaked in every inch of your skin, your name leaving his lips delicately before he whispered “You’re so beautiful, you know that cariño?”

He captured your mouth in another passionate kiss as he lowered you onto the couch, making sure your head was resting comfortably as he situated himself in between your thighs. Once you were settled he teased the tip of his cock up and down your slit, thumbing at your clit, drenching his cock in your juices. Your back arched slightly desperate for him to stop teasing, instead a small smirk found his face as he tapped his cock against your clit sending sparks down your spine. Your hands grasped at his arms as a pleading look crossed your face whining his name out desperately.

Both of you moaned as he gave in and slid his hard length into you, pushing until his hips were flush against yours and you were filled to the brim with him. You were convinced you would never see anything more beautiful than Javier Peña throwing his head back in pleasure at the way your walls clenched around him and the way his neck tensed made you want nothing more than to suck a mark into his tanned skin.

He started pumping into you slowly but every thrust was deep, hitting spots in you that you were certainly no one else had ever touched. His hands stayed on your thighs, squeezing slightly as he steadily pumped into you, and his dark eyes roamed your body savoring everything you shared with him. His whole face twitched in pleasure as his hand relocated to rub lightly at your clit and your walls clenched around him, the sight of his hard length disappearing into your soaking cunt causing his breathing to become ragged.

Before the sight could make him cum prematurely he leaned down to capture your lips as he picked up his pace, the thrusts were still deeper strokes than fast ones but it was effective, your orgasm building quickly within your lower stomach. Your hand buried in his hair as he broke the kiss to groan out lightly and you nuzzled into his neck, nipping lightly before sucking slightly. This caused Javi's hips to stutter as he whimpered your name out, voice raising slightly and your body buzzed in pleasure at his broken sounds.

You sucked a mark into his neck, biting gently, while he picked up the pace and as your tits started bouncing in time with his thrusts he arched his neck in order to suck a nipple into his mouth. He swirled his tongue around your nipple and as it hardened he lightly tugged it with his teeth, you whined at his treatment and he repeated his actions on the other side. Your walls fluttered around him more rapidly now as his hips slapped up against yours, cock slipping in and out coated in your juices as he neared his peak as well.

Pulling away and sitting up straight Javier watched you as you got closer to to your orgasm, the new position allowed him to rock deep into you even faster. He shifted your legs so the one pressing into the couch back was now resting on his shoulder as he pounded into you. As soon as the leg was secure his hand flew to lightly grip your neck, not cutting off your air supply but just resting there reminding you that he was in charge, his neck straining at the exertion as he slammed in and out of you. As your back arched in pleasure a growl left his throat as he pressed, “He didn’t fuck you like this did he? He can’t fuck you like I can cariño. After this you won't be able to fuck anyone without thinking of me.”

His words lit your body up as you cried out for him, writhing as your pleasure started to reach its peak. Sensing this his hand tightened slightly in order to slam his cock into your drenched cunt even faster, breath coming out in harsh pants, his other hand grasping at your tits playing with your nipples. As he thrust into you he ground out, “You have such a tight little pussy, you take me so well cariño. You’re absolutely soaked filthy girl and all for me, who does this cunt belong to? Tell me baby”

His words sparked your submissive side and you cried out “You Javi! I’m all yours, my pussy is all for you Javier!”

You squeezed him tight as you teetered on the edge though you couldn’t quite tip over it, desperate you grabbed his hand that was rolling your nipple lightly and pushed it towards your clit before grabbing his wrist and squeezing tight nails digging into him, desperate for an anchor. Javier breathed out rapidly as his hand shot down to your clit and firmly tapped with his fingers. The light sting mixed with his firm commanding words of “Cum for me hermosa, cum all over my cock and I’ll fill up your tight cunt” was enough to shove you over the edge.

You were vaguely aware of hoarsely screaming his name as your back arched high, eyes squeezing shut. You grew impossibly tight around him and his hips stuttered as he began to coat your walls with ropes of his cum. He pinched lightly at your clit and your walls fluttered rapidly, a heavy shocks shooting through your body, milking his cock as he spurted into you. You saw white at your prolonged pleasure and you felt something wet at the corner of your eyes, which you realized were tears of pleasure as you started to come down.

Both of you stayed frozen, chests heaving as you fought to regain your breath, his hand moved to rest on your sternum lightly tracing your collarbone.

After you both became aware of your surroundings after floating down from your highs he gently eased your leg off of his shoulder and you had a feeling you were going to be sore. A dazed smile came over your face as you softly pulled him towards you to share a kiss. You couldn’t hide the affection that shone in your eyes as you took in his blissful face. As you shared another kiss he stroked your face softly before sighing into your lips, pressing his face to the side of yours he spoke your name hesitantly.

“If you ever need to...blow off steam like this again you come to me.”

His words made your heart beat faster but not wanting to get your hopes up you muttered jokingly, “you’re still inside me and you’re worried about next time?”

You tried to turn your head to look at him but he gently held your face in place before speaking quietly again. “I’m serious, if you don’t want to let me know but, if you want me, I need to hear you say you’ll come to me.”

You could tell that he wasn’t comfortable with this conversation, he had said once emotions weren’t his strong suit, so you responded quickly. “I’ll come to you Javi, as long as you’ll have me.”

You felt like there was something else he wanted to say but instead he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips and your eyes slid shut happily. Slipping his softened cock out of you a whimper left you as you felt his cum start to leak out of you.

Javier swore at the sight, cock twitching in interest and he wanted nothing more than to gently finger his dripping cum back into you but he pressed a kiss to your forehead and whispered “Let me clean you up hermosa, I’ll be right back”

He disappeared before returning with a cloth to gently clean you up, pressing soft kisses to your inner thighs as he worked, he couldn't help but lick one stripe up your pussy tasting himself on you and causing your whole body to shake as an aftershock flew through you.

Pulling away he grabbed the drinks he had discarded earlier and took a swig before offering one to you. You accepted it, throat hoarse from all the use it got - you prayed Javier’s walls were decently soundproof. Shifting up you let out a groan when you realized how tired you were. At your noise Javi looked at you and gently grabbed the blanket strewn across the back of the brown couch covering your shoulders with it and questioning softly, “Are you alright? Do you need anything?”

You shook your head shooting him a another smile, “No, I’m just tired is all. I should probably head to my apartment”

You absolutely hated the idea of leaving him so soon but you didn’t want to impose and so you stood on wobbly legs, cursing the fact that you were still wearing your heels, but before you could get anywhere you were stopped.

Javier gently grasped your wrist and his eyes softened, other hand raising to smooth down some stray hairs on the side of your head before his deep voice met your ears, “You can stay if you want”

You froze not believing what you were hearing and then he spoke again so quiet you barely heard it, “Please stay, I don’t want you to go”

Your heart soared and you smiled broadly nodding happily. You sat back down in order to take off your shoes and as you did Javi’s hand continued to play with your hair. As you smiled sweetly up at him he felt like his heart was going to burst, seeing you with someone else had pushed him to his limit. He knew he was going to have to tell you how he really felt but as he guided you to his bedroom he let a smile cover his face, he could get it right this time.

Seeing you in a spare shirt of his and pressed up against him sleepily pressing a kiss to his chest he knew he wanted more with you. He wanted you to be his girlfriend and for the first time in a long time he could see a life beyond Colombia, settling down with you and if you wanted starting a family. Pulling you closer to him he drifted off into sleep Javier knew he would have to ask you to be his girlfriend, but for now you agreeing not to see anyone else was enough.

#javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña smut #javier pena x reader #narcos fanfic #narcos smut

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thepropertylovers · 3 years

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Are You Having Trouble Falling Asleep Lately?

The past few weeks, almost every night, we crawl into bed, turn off the lamps, say I love you and good night, and go to sleep. Well, in theory…

The truth is, I’ve been having the hardest time falling asleep the lately. I’m tired; my body is physically exhausted by the end of every day, but for some reason, I can’t fall asleep. My mind starts racing the second my head touches the pillow and I’m thrown into a vortex of thoughts, dreams, anxieties, worries, to-do lists and about a million and one ideas. Do you know what I mean?

The thing is, I never used to have trouble falling asleep. I was always passed out before PJ. But these days, a few minutes after we get into bed, I hear his heavy breathing begin, a signal he’s fast asleep and already dreaming (side note: I love listening to him breathe while he sleeps; it’s so peaceful to me). And while he is sound asleep beside me, my mind starts racing.

Some recurring late night thoughts:

-Did I give Jolie her evening medicine?

-Did I give Riah his evening medicine?

-When is the new season of Locke & Key coming out?

-Ooooooo we should wallpaper the walls above the moulding in the laundry room

-I wonder when the pandemic will finally slow down

-Did Allan have homework to complete?

-We have two things to shoot tomorrow that are DUE tomorrow. How are we going to have time do to all of that?

-The house is a wreck.

It’s exhausting, but apparently not enough to make me actually fall asleep.

Though my trouble falling asleep isn’t necessarily directly related to the pandemic, there has been an increase in insomnia across the country (world?) since the covid pandemic began. In fact, a national survey from the American Academy of Sleep Medicine (AASM) found that almost 60% of Americans are experiencing some form of insomnia due to the pandemic.

According to Fariha Abbasi-Feinberg, MD, a sleep medicine doctor in Fort Meyers, FL, and member of the AASM's board of directors, “The rate of insomnia in the general population is normally about 10% to 30%, so it is definitely double what it's been in the past. Some people are worried about getting sick from the virus, but there are a lot of economic anxieties, a lot of societal anxieties now. I feel like the stress level of the country in general has just been elevated over the last year.”

One thing I’ve found that works for me? Randomly, singing the songs to Taylor Swift’s album Folklore in my head. I’m not joking. I start at the beginning of the album and I work my way to the very last song, and the crazy thing is I never make it to the end! I usually fall asleep around song five or six. Sometimes my thoughts interrupt my singing halfway through a song, but they don’t usually last long.

So there you have it. Do you have trouble falling asleep, too? How do you deal with it?

PS: if you’re looking for ways to help you fall asleep at night, here are a few helpful articles:

11 Ways to Shut Off Your Brain Before Bedtime

9 Things to Do When You Can't Sleep Because Your Mind Is Racing

Strategies to Fall Sleep Peacefully

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f1 · 2 years

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Hamilton expects tough weekend as floor damage cuts his race simulation short | 2022 Hungarian Grand Prix

Lewis Hamilton expects a difficult weekend for Mercedes after cutting his race simulation run short in practice due to damage. Mercedes endured a difficult start to the Hungarian Grand Prix weekend on Friday. They were only the sixth-fastest team at the end of the day’s two practice sessions. George Russell ended the second session eighth, nine-tenths of a second off the pace. Team mate Hamilton was just under two-tenths of a second slower in 11th place. “The car’s a bit of a struggle today,” said Hamilton in an interview supplied by Mercedes. “It’s crazy how it swings so much from track to track.” The team were “just trying to figure out how we can get the car working” around the twisty Hungaroring, he said. “At the moment it’s a little bit loose and not doing what we want it to do. So a difficult day.” “For some reason, at this track, it’s not working as well. But I think once we got it right the gap’s about the same as last weekend so around a second.” Hamilton described his car’s handling as “unstable” twice on his radio during the session. He eventually cut his race simulation run short and later revealed he had picked up damage on his W13. “I didn’t get to run at the end because I sustained some damage on my floor so I lost a lot of downforce,” he said. “After that it was pretty tricky for the long-run pace. It’s going to be a tough weekend but we’ll give it everything, see what we’ve got.” Russell said it was “definitely not our smoothest Friday so far” for the team which scored its best result of the season to date in France a week ago. He encountered problems with high power unit temperatures in both sessions. However the coming days are expected to be much cooler, which should help the team reduce overheating, and rain is forecast throughout Saturday. “It’s a bit of a strange one because we think it’s going to be wet tomorrow for quali and conditions on Sunday are going to be drastically different. “So we were trying quite a few things with the car, using it as a bit of a test session because, to be honest, you can try and optimise everything today, but there’s no use of that at all for the rest of the weekend. So even though it’s a very tough day, I think it’s probably being a productive one.” Nonetheless Russell said the team “were definitely a little bit further away than we probably would have expected.” “A couple of issues here and there, but I think tomorrow it’s going to be a totally new day and Sunday will also be a very different day,” he concluded. “So not all lost yet.” Advert | Become a RaceFans supporter and go ad-free 2022 Hungarian Grand Prix Browse all 2022 Hungarian Grand Prix articles via RaceFans - Independent Motorsport Coverage https://www.racefans.net

#F1 #Hamilton expects “tough weekend” as floor damage cuts his race simulation short | 2022 Hungarian Grand Prix #Formula 1

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amelialincoln · 3 years

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Never Know

-continuation of last weeks episode

Link noticed from the moment his girlfriend got home that something was wrong. He assumed it was about work, not taking her crappy mood personally. She’d snapped at Bailey for complaining about his dinner again before storming upstairs to answer Scout’s cries on the baby monitor. Bailey came close to tears in response, explaining to Link that he hadn’t meant to upset her, he just missed his mom’s cooking. Link didn’t know what to tell him other than Amelia didn’t have a good day at work. They’d ended up watching Bailey’s favourite Christmas movie to make him feel better before putting the kids to bed. Link was surprised that Amelia didn’t even come and say goodnight.

“Hey,” he whispered from their doorway, not wanting to wake Ellis. She’d made him read five stories to make up for not being able to come and cuddle with him and Amelia in their bed and Link had done his best to slip out as quietly as possible once she’d fallen asleep.

“Hi,” she responded, not looking up. She was cradling Scout in her chest, Link could see the reflection of tears in her eyes.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked, knowing that that’s what she needed. He moved to sit on the bed beside her, kissing their baby boy softly on the forehead as he gurgled drowsily.

“Mer woke up today,” she started.

“Amelia that’s great--”

“Link,” she interrupted, the pain in her eyes stopped him. “She was awake and she was good until she wasn’t. She stood up and then collapsed. Apparently her STATs are declining again and she’d barely conscious. Richard chose to have her intubated.”

“She didn’t want that,” was the only thing Link could think of to say.

“I know.” She shook her head helplessly. “But it’s his choice and I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to help her. She just seemed so good and then she wasn’t. And I know that the kids are going to ask for her, and that’s not their fault, but I don’t know how much longer I can try to convince them that she’s going to be okay. I barely know myself.”

“She’s a fighter.” He tried to offer her some support.

“I know, I always pitied myself for all the shit I’ve been through but hearing her stories makes me feel somewhat normal.” She almost laughed. “But this can’t be the end of her story. Her name is on the freaking hospital. If she goes, we’ll all die with her.”

“That’s a little dramatic.” Link forced a smile, pulling Amelia’s small frame into his chest. She shrugged, the idea seeming completely rational in her eyes. “Can I drive you to a meeting or something?” He asked. “I feel like I’m not helping.”

“I signed up for one tomorrow at noon. You have to book now, cause of the virus.”

“So you’re just supposed to already know if you’re going to have a shitty day?”

“Yeah, exactly,” Amelia grumbled. “Thank you though.” She leaned up and they shared a lingering kiss.

“This guy needs to sleep though,” he chuckled, pulling the sleeping baby out of her grasp.

“But he’s making me feel better,” Amelia whined.

“I’m also pretty good at that,” Link grinned, receiving an eye roll. He placed Scout in the crib that they’d moved back into their room. They’d had him sleeping in Mer’s to get used to being away from his parents but Amelia had called earlier that day to let him know that Mer would be coming home in the next couple of days and he’d decided to move Scout back. He threw on pajamas while he was up before crawling back into bed. Any topic of conversation he tried to bring up wasn’t appealing to his girlfriend and eventually they ended up falling asleep, a little too far apart for Link’s liking.

Amelia was a notoriously late riser. Always pulling on articles of clothing last minute, sometimes even in the car. That brunette cherished every moment of sleep and Link didn’t quite share the same mindset. He spent most of his childhood in a bed and usually so stressed that he would lie awake at night for hours. Eventually he got over the insomnia but to this day has never been one to linger in bed, unless it was for an activity that he and Amelia were barely undertaking at the moment. Though with them both having the day off, he doubted she’d leave their bedroom until at least nine. So when Amelia came trudging down the stairs at seven the next morning Link almost spat out his coffee in surprise. Scout gurgled happily to see his mother, through sips of a bottle.

“You should’ve waited for me to feed him,” Amelia grumbled as she entered the kitchen, her chest always especially sore in the mornings.

“I didn’t expect you to be up for another couple of hours.” Link shrugged, he knew Amelia was going through a lot but her grumpy attitude was starting to drain him.

“We’re doing a group Facetime. Since Maggie and I both have the day off Teddy and Richard want to let us know how she’s doing. Though I doubt Maggie will be up.” Link raised his eyebrows. “Winston got here last night,” she explained.

“Ah,” he replied, removing the empty bottle from Scout’s pudgy hands. “Must be nice.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Her voice was filled with irritation, most likely due to the technological difficulties she seemed to be experiencing from her phone.

“Nothing,” Link sighed. He moved to glance at Amelia’s phone screen. “You’re on mute, babe.”

“Oh.” Teddy’s voice echoed through the kitchen. “Thanks. Where are the kids?”

“All on the Ipads, in their rooms, doing schoolwork.”

“Okay,” Amelia breathed a sigh of relief as she sunk into the dining room chair beside him and let herself become absorbed in the facetime call. Link stood up to finish the dishes from breakfast this morning. Normally Amelia would tell the kids to pick one thing to have but Link couldn’t bring himself to tell Bailey he couldn’t have eggs and Ellis she couldn’t have oatmeal. Zola was also obsessed with smoothies...it was a lot of dishes.

“What do you mean she’s murmuring things about Lexie?” Amelia’s voice brought him back to reality. “Is she hallucinating?” His girlfriend’s voice was getting more and more anxious. “I can come in if you think it's neuro.”

“We don’t know what it is,” Teddy responded, he could tell that she was trying to calm the worried sisters down. “That’s all I have for today. Her lungs are doing better now that they’re resting on the vent. I think that was a smart move. I’ll see you both again at the same time tomorrow for another update and I’ll try to text you if anything changes.”

“Okay, thank you,” Amelia muttered. Link could hear Maggie respond the same before Amelia hung up the phone and placed it on the table in front of her. Link turned to find her with her head in her hands. Her hair was tied up in a loose ponytail with strands falling out, framing her face. He’d forgotten how petite she was until about a week after giving birth. Not that she had even gotten that big when she was carrying Scout. Right now, curled up in the chair with her knees pulled into her chest, she looked almost childlike. He found himself wondering if she was eating enough. He moved to her side and placed a tentative hand on her shoulder. Amelia glanced up at him, brushing the tears from her cheeks. She looked broken. Link almost winced at her expression, as if her pain was being transferred on to him.

“I’m sorry.” Was the only thing he could say.

“It’s okay,” Amelia rested her chin atop her knees. “We’ve just always had a rocky relationship.” Her voice faltered. “If I don’t get to tell her I love her before she dies I...”

“I know,” Link sat down beside her, as she trailed off. “And I know that she knows.”

“And I don’t think I can handle losing anyone else.” She grimaced at the idea, allowing Scout to wrap his fingers around her pinky.

“Well you’ll always have me.”

“Nah, at this point we’re just waiting for cancer to take you out,” she joked, pushing a rather large strand of hair behind her ear.

“I mean I haven’t been getting my regular scans since COVID so I’m sure the first one I’ll get after all this will just light up like a Christmas tree.” Amelia’s eyes darkened. “Hey, I’m kidding.”

“Don’t just look at me. You’ve got this guy to stick around for too.” Link turned to Scout who had been desperately jutting his arms out in his father’s direction, begging to be picked up. Link chuckled, scooping the wiggling baby up into his arms and blowing a raspberry on his exposed stomach. Scout squealed in delight, wrapping his arms around Link’s neck and placing a wet kiss on his cheek. Amelia watched the interaction with a bittersweet smile, the topic of their conversation still looming heavily over them.

“Next time you’re at work you should get scanned.”

“It doesn’t really work like that, babe.” He was still absorbed in Scout’s babbling, repeating some of the baby’s gibberish and receiving lots of giggling. “They’re only taking emergent stuff right now.”

“Well this could be--”

“Mia,” Link sighed, placing the baby down. Scout pouted comically and banged his fists against his highchair. “I’m not emergent. That’s a good thing. Before every scan I had growing up I already knew if it was going to be a good one or a bad one. If I’m in rough shape I can usually tell. There’s symptoms and I’m always on high alert for them, okay?” Amelia nodded.

“Sorry, I just have bad odds.”

“I have great odds. I beat it the first time. I have an amazing wife and baby and job. Your bad odds and my good odds will just cancel out and we’ll have very average odds together.” He was confused as to why Amelia was looking at him like he was crazy. “I mean that might be far fetched but--”

“Wife?” Her heart had skipped a beat. “You have an amazing wife?” Link’s eyes widened before placing a kiss on her forehead and practically running out of the room.

“I dunno what you’re talking about. Definitely don’t want to get married. Haven’t been thinking about it at all. That’s way too soon. I’d be crazy for even thinking about that.” He stopped at the door and peered back at her. “I mean unless you wanted to.”

“Your unbelievable,” Amelia shook her head in amusement as Link left the kitchen. “Your daddy is unbelievable.”

#amelink #amelia shepherd #amelink fanfiction #amelinkfanfic #amelink fanfic #Atticus Lincoln #greysanatomy #notlinkbeingflustered

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zukoskataraa · 4 years

Text

a request i got a long time ago! sorry this took soooo long, hope you guys like it!

prompt #19: i’ve missed this

“Will you be home for Christmas break?” Zuko asks his girlfriend, Katara - who he was currently facetiming, as he lays down on his bed and places his laptop on his stomach.

“I’m not sure yet.” Katara replies, not bothering to look up at Zuko as she was busy writing down notes.

“Oh.” Zuko says, disappointment evident in his voice. Katara looks at Zuko, for the second time during their ongoing 38-minute facetime call, and gives him a sincere look.

“Hey, I don’t wanna say yes when I’m not sure yet, because you’ll get your hopes up. And then you’d be disappointed if I can’t actually be there. Finals are next week and I still have some projects to work on over the break. Sorry, Zuko.” Katara says, and Zuko shakes his head, running his fingers through his hair.

“No, no. Don’t worry about it. I understand, Kat. I just… I miss you. So bad.” Zuko says, and Katara giggles.

“Aw, well aren’t you cute? I miss you too. A lot.” Katara says and Zuko smiles.

“I miss you more. Anyway, I don’t wanna take up too much of your time. I know you’re still busy, and I shouldn’t have called.” Zuko says.

“Hey, no. Don’t worry about it, baby.” Katara says, and Zuko’s cheeks turn a shade of light pink at the pet name. “You don’t have to apologize for anything. I’m always happy to talk to you.”

“Thanks, Kat. I gotta go, I have to go out and buy some food. Study hard, but don’t forget to rest, okay? Talk to you later, future doctor.” Zuko smiles, winking. Katara blushes.

“Will do, Zuko. Bye.” She blows him a kiss and ends the call. Zuko sighs, thinking about Katara. They had been in a relationship since they were freshmen in college, and fast forwards five years later, where Zuko was in his fifth year of architecture - he failed two subjects last year - and Katara had graduated with nursing as her pre-med, and was currently in her first year of medicine, and got into her dream medical school which was across the country.

Zuko was happy for Katara, he didn’t want to hold her back from her dreams. He knew that she always wanted to become a doctor, and he would let her pursue her dreams, even if it meant having a long distance relationship. The first few months were hard, with them having different timezones - thus not being able to talk to each other properly. But once they got used to it, they would talk whenever they could, which meant just staying on call while Katara studied and wrote notes, or when Zuko had plates to finish. It had been five months since the couple saw each other in person, and Zuko was hoping that he could see Katara during Christmas break. But that didn’t seem to be the case. Or so, Zuko thought.

A week had passed by since Katara told Zuko that she might not make it home for the break, but nothing had changed between the two. They still talked, but Katara could tell that Zuko was feeling down.

“So, it’s the last day of your finals tomorrow, right?” Zuko asks, writing down some important details from the article he was reading. Katara hums.

“Technically, later. Since it’s already Friday here. But yeah, I have physiology in the morning and parasitology in the afternoon.” Katara says, her voice tired.

“You should focus on studying.” Zuko says. He didn’t mean to sound cold, but that’s how it sounded like to Katara.

“Zuko, are you mad?” She asks as she stops writing down her notes. Zuko looks at her, eyes wide.

“W-What? No. I’m not. Sorry. I’ve just been swamped with a lot of research and homework. I didn’t mean to sound angry.” Zuko says. The both of them have had sleepless nights the past week, with Katara studying for finals, and Zuko writing papers. The amount of caffeine the two had consumed the past few days was, in simple terms, a lot.

“It’s okay. Sorry if I jumped to conclusions.” Katara says. “I should go.”

“Y-Yeah. Sorry again, Kat.” Zuko says. “Make sure to rest, okay? Don’t push yourself too hard.” Zuko says, his voice filled with love.

“Will do, Zuko. Love you.” She blows him a kiss and Zuko smiles.

“Love you too, Kat. Bye.” He ends the call, cursing to himself.

Katara sighs, groaning. She was tired of studying, and as much as she wanted to sleep, she still had to finish reviewing. She grabs her phone and calls Sokka, her brother and Zuko’s best friend.

“HEY SIS WHAT’S UP?” Sokka answers on the first ring, his voice a little too loud, making Katara flinch and laugh.

“Hey, Sokka.” She stifles a yawn, and Sokka grunts.

“Isn’t it like 2am there? You should get some rest kiddo.” Sokka says and Katara sighs.

“I’m only one year younger than you. And yeah, I’ll sleep after um, you know the plan, right?” Katara says, grabbing the airplane ticker inside her planner, and Sokka snorts.

“Of course! It’s gonna be the sweetest thing ever. I just don’t know why you just won’t tell him. Why does it have to be a surprise?” Sokka asks and Katara shrugs, even though she knows he can’t see her.

“I-I don’t know. I just want to see how he’d react. Like you know in movies where when the guy surprises the girl at the airport? The girl cries and runs to him and all that?”

“Katara, this isn’t a movie. But, I understand where you’re coming from. I’m actually excited to see the look on Zuko’s face. And I’m excited to see you as well, I guess.” Sokka says and Katara laughs.

“Gee, thanks Sokka. I feel the love.” Katara says and yawns.

“You need to sleep now, kiddo. Call me later when your exams are over, okay?” Sokka says.

“Yeah. Sure thing. I gotta go. Bye.” Katara hangs up, yawning. She smiles as she fiddles with the plane ticket in her hands, and places it back in her planner. She couldn’t wait for Sunday.

“How were your exams? You aced them, right?” Zuko asks, smiling. Katara giggles as she sets her phone on her desk and places her bag on the floor.

“They were difficult. But, I hope I passed.” Katara says and Zuko shakes his head.

“I know you passed! It’s you after all, Kat.” Zuko says and Katara smiles.

“Aw, thanks. I hope those sleepless nights paid off. Now I can rest and sleep all day. Well, aside from the paper I have to pass when the break is over. But other than that, I’m free!” Katara says and Zuko chuckles.

“You definitely deserve a break. I envy you, actually. I still have to pass this paper that’s due tomorrow, as well as 5 plates, which I’m not yet done with. Well, I finished four of them. The last one, I’m almost done with. Ah, sorry for rambling.” Zuko says, embarrassed and Katara giggles.

“No, it’s alright. Your rambling is always cute.” She says and Zuko blushes. “Oh, I have to call Sokka. Talk to you later?” She asks, and Zuko nods.

“Yes, yeah. Bye, Kat.” Zuko smiles and Katara’s heart melts.

“Bye, Zuko.” She blows him a kiss and ends the call. She calls Sokka, who answers right away.

“Hey, Kat!” A different voice answers.

“Suki!” Katara squeals.

“Yup! Sokka is in the bathroom, so I picked up instead.” Suki explains.

“I can’t wait to see you on Sunday!” Katara says and Suki laughs.

“Same here. It’s been so long! We are definitely hanging out when you’re here. I’m not letting Zuko keep you all to himself.” Suki jokes and Katara giggles.

“Hey, Suki, who are you talking to?” Sokka asks in the background.

“Katara.” She tells Sokka. “I’m handing you over to Sokka now.” Suki tells Katara.

“Hey, sis.” Sokka says, sitting down beside Suki.

“Hey. Sunday okay? 10am, you pick me up at the airport, then we go to Zuko’s place.” Katara says. That was the plan, she hadn’t thought of anything else, because complicated plans weren’t needed.

“We can’t hang out before going to Zuko’s place?” Sokka asks and Katara laughs.

“We can hang out the next day, I promise.” Katara says.

“I’m taking you up on your promise.” Sokka replies and Katara giggles.

“Yeah, sure. Anyway, I gotta go. See you on Sunday! Bye.” Katara hangs up, sighing.

She grabs her suitcase and starts to pack her clothes and essentials. She was hoping she wouldn’t have to pack too much stuff, considering she’d only be there for two and a half weeks. When it’s 6pm, Katara is almost done packing, aside from the things she still needed to use before leaving, like her laptop and charger. She gets up and goes to the bathroom, and runs the water in the bath. A warm bath after a stressful week was what she needed. She grabs her phone and opens her playlist, the smooth sound echoing in the bathroom. She takes off her clothes and sighs as she sinks down in the tub, the water easing her muscles. She smiles, thinking of Zuko.

“We’re almost there. Are you ready?” Sokka asks Katara, who was smiling brightly.

“Definitely! Thanks again for doing this, Sokka.” Katara says. Suki smiles as she continues to cling onto Katara.

“Don’t mention it, sis.” Sokka says.

“Don’t leaveeeee” Suki says, hugging Katara even tighter and Katara laughs.

“We’ll see each other again tomorrow, Suki.” Katara says, hugging Suki back.

“We’re here.” Sokka says as he slowly pulls up in front of Zuko’s apartment. Katara sighs, biting her lip.

“You can let go now, Suki.” Katara says and Suki does as she’s told, and Katara gets out of the car. Sokka and Suki follow her, and Sokka gets Katara’s suitcase in the trunk. Katara looks at Sokka and Suki, shaking her hands in nervousness. “What if he doesn’t want to see me? What if he hates me for lying to him? I should just go home.” Katara says and Suki takes Katara’s hands in hers.

“Kat, relax. Deep breaths. He’s gonna be ecstatic that you’re here, I promise.” Suki assures her best friend. Katara looks at her and nods.

“Go on, Kat. Give him the surprise of his life.” Sokka says. Katara nods as she walks up to the door. Sokka is standing by the car and Suki is hiding at the side, her phone recording the whole thing. Katara takes a deep breath and knocks three times on the door, biting her lip. A few seconds later, the door opens to reveal Zuko, his hair disheveled, bags under his eyes. Katara looks into his eyes and smiles, and Zuko widens his eyes, taking the time to process what he was seeing.

“Katara?” He asks, and she nods, smiling. “Oh my god.” He says and in an instant, Katara is in Zuko’s arms, her legs wrapped around his waist, heads buried in each other’s necks. Zuko can’t help but get slightly emotional. They pull away a minute later, and Zuko carefully puts Katara back on the ground. Zuko’s thumb caresses her cheek, and she smiles.

“Hey, don’t cry.” Katara says, leaning up to wipe away a tear on Zuko’s cheek. Zuko chuckles, sniffling.

“Sorry. I just… I can’t believe you’re here.” He says as he engulfs Katara in another hug, burying his face into her hair. “I’ve missed this. I’ve missed you.” He whispers and Katara smiles.

“I’ve missed you too, Zuko. More than you know.” She pulls away and leans up to give Zuko a quick peck on the lips. She tiptoes and whispers into his ear, “There’s more of that later, but we have to get rid of our guests first.” She winks and Zuko chuckles.

“Affirmative.” He replies and takes Katara’s hand in his. Suki comes out from hiding, smiling.

“See! I told you he’d be ecstatic.” Suki says and Katara laughs.

“Of course I’d be ecstatic. I finally got to see my girl after 5 months.” Zuko says and Katara blushes. Sokka walks up to them, Katara’s suitcase in hand, as well as her bag.

“Here you go Kat.” Sokka says. “Nice to see you, Zuko.”

“Dude, we saw each other yesterday.” Zuko laughs and Sokka chuckles.

“That we did. Anyway, me and Suki should get going. See you guys tomorrow.” Sokka says and Suki waves goodbye at the couple. Zuko grabs Katara’s suitcase and hauls it into the apartment. Katara closes the door, and Zuko sits on the couch. Katara walks up to him and sits on his lap, straddling him. Zuko raises his eyebrows, amused, and chuckles as he puts his hands on her thighs.

“You should have told me you were coming home. I would have thrown you a surprise party or something.” Zuko says and Katara giggles.

“I wanted it to be a surprise.” Katara says, wrapping her hands around Zuko’s neck. “Were you surprised?” She asks and Zuko nods.

“Yup. How long have you known that you could come home for the break?” Zuko asks, his thumbs tracing small circles on Katara’s thighs.

“Uh, when you first brought up the topic.” Katara says, biting her lip. Zuko looks at her, surprised. “I thought that I might accidentally say it whenever we talked because of how tired I was. Like it might slip out of something.” Katara explains and Zuko chuckles.

“Well, I’m glad to have you here, back in my arms.” Zuko says, smirking. He leans close to her, his face inches from hers. The was a glimmer of mischief in his eyes, and Katara’s breath hitches in her throat. “And I know you’re tired. I am too, but just to be clear, we won’t be getting much rest today.” He says as he crashes his lips into hers, and Katara gasps at the sudden contact. Today would be a long day.

masterlist | AO3

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