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sincerelyneo · 30 days

Note

will you be reposting the jeno fic you had on your old blog? it was my fave 🥺

here it is <3

fireproof | l.jn

“‘cause no body saves me baby the way you do”

💿now playing: fireproof by one direction

❯ summary: Your brother Jaemin loves throwing parties when your parents aren’t home — but you hate it. In an attempt to escape the loud music and sweaty bodies you try and head out. But there’s no way your brother’s best friend, Jeno, is letting you wander around the streets so late.

❯ pairings: jeno x fem!reader

❯ genre: smut, brother’s best friend, college!au

❯ words: 8.4k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, smut, masturbation, minor mentions of drug use, drinking, marking, slight protective brother jaemin, begging, spanking, mentions of marking, unprotected sex (don't do this!), oral sex (m/f receiving), fingering, reader uses she/her pronouns, jeno fucks his best friend’s little sister.

a/n: i changed the title hehehe

This party fucking sucks.

You’re not even drunk. The vodka is watered down, you're sure of it. Your friends ditched you about half an hour ago — disappearing with some of the guys they had been speaking to and seeing.

"Come to the party with us, they said." You mimic to yourself into your plastic cup. "It'll be fun, they said."

You scoff taking another swig but pull your face at the awful taste that lingers in your mouth. There are better things you could be doing on a Saturday night, you think. You’re almost positive you saw a new show released on Netflix today. Or better yet, you could be reading some sort of erotic novel that would spice up your Saturday night more than this shit.

But the thing is, this party is at your own fucking house.

Your brother is throwing it.

Every time your parents go away for one weekend he can’t help but jump at the opportunity to trash the place. You don't see why he can't just have a few of the boys around, have some beers and then call it a night. But no, that isn't exactly Jaemin’s style.

Of course, he has to invite a bunch of random weirdos that seem to be snorting cocaine off of every surface in this house, and smoking whatever kind of weed they could find. And sure, you’re not impartial to a good night but this... this is not your idea of a good night.

At all.

Sighing, you push through the masses of people, seeing the sweaty bodies that are dry humping one another or eating each other's faces off so much you feel like you’re going to throw up at the sight.

Stopping in your tracks, you reach into the back pocket of your denim jeans to pull out your phone, seeing that it is half-past midnight. If you know Jaemin — and you did — this was only the beginning of the night. The party is definitely far from over.

Fuck sake.

You put your phone back in your pocket and continue to manoeuvre around the bodies in the hallway. Your stomach growls and you think about how you're drinking on an empty stomach. The only thing open at this time is a Mcdonald's but you don't necessarily want to be that person that sits in McDonald's by themselves on a Saturday night.

Still, you head for your front door and try your luck at an escape. As you reach your hand out to grab the door handle you smash headfirst into a body. Well to be more specific a chest. A hard chest.

"Ow, fuck!" You lift your hand up, rubbing your forehead.

"Sorry little Na, didn't see you there." You immediately recognise that voice. The deep slowness in which he talks. It’s the only voice that has a straight hotline to your core.

Yeah, you couldn't ever forget that voice.

You stop rubbing your head and slowly look up, following the lines of his muscled chest that you can see through the tight white t-shirt he's wearing with a pair of denim jeans and converse. Yes you had already checked him out tonight, but you’re only human. And when your eyes meet that sharp jawline, hollowed-out cheekbones and those damming brown eyes, you involuntarily clench your thighs together.

You shun yourself because you know you can’t have him. And that’s the reason why you hate him.

He's your brother’s best friend.

Lee fucking Jeno.

The worst man on this planet. for many reasons like for one he’s insanely hot. Like too hot. Who on this planet even needs to be that hot? But to make it worse he knows he's hot. Girls are always flying off his arm fueling his ego. He's also selfish and arrogant.

But the reason you hate him the most, the reason you despise him so much, and avoid him at all costs is because of the burning need — it's past being a want it's a fucking need — to just devour him. Every part of you screams out whenever he is in the same room.

And you hate it.

You have zero control over your words and actions with him — and he knows it with how much you’ve embarrassed yourself in front of him over the years. Your cheeks tend to grow red without your permission, and oh does he love to point that out.

Ever since your brother brought him home in his first year of high school, they have been inseparable — and you’ve been madly in love.

Well, you’re not in love with the boy. You just, you know, want to rip his clothes off. And let him fuck the living daylights out of you.

"Aw, there they are." He distracts you from your thoughts.

His eyes are burning straight through you. As if he can tell what you’re thinking, how you’re feeling. And right now, you have very infuriating dampness in your panties that wasn't there 30 seconds ago.

"Those rosy cheeks, are they for me, little Na?" You swat his hand away as it attempts to reach up to caress your cheek or some stupid shit like that.

"Stop that Jeno!” You snap at him, getting angry is your default with him.

It the perfect remedy to keep him away from you, so you don't do something stupid like fuck your brother’s best friend

“Please just get out my way.”

"Such a pleasant girl, aren't you?" He winks.

He fucking winks, and your pussy screams in delight. If you were any other girl, you’d be swooning right now. You’d be on your knees begging for it.

Well, you won't be on your knees for him.

Ever.

Especially not tonight.

"Just get out of my way, Jeno,” you push him rather hard.

You knew it wouldn't make him budge if he didn't want it too but he dramatically moved out of your way of the door. You yank it open and dart through onto the front lawn. Halfway down the driveway, a sharp tug on your arm spins you around and you’re faced with Jeno... again.

"Fuck sake, what do you want?" You shake your arm out of his grip but he doesn't let go.

You give up, huffing and dropping your shoulders. The two of you are just staring at each other, so much so that you didn't even realise how close you really were. Your chests are almost touching, there is a hair width between you. And due to your height, if you looked forwards you’d be looking at the bottom of his neck, right where you see him gulp before meeting your eyes again. They seem to burn into yours, suddenly growing intense.

He is the first to look away but he doesn't just look away, no. You watch as his eyes flash down to your lips. Your breath hitches, he sees that and when he looks back to your eyes again, he flashes you a knowing smirk.

Motherfucker.

"Come back inside." He says as he throws his head to the side, signalling to your house.

"No," you all but stomp your foot.

"You're such a fucking brat, you know that right?" He growls, closing that gap so that your chests touch. There’s an electricity running through you, begging for him.

"I'm not a fucking brat, I just don't want to be here at this shitty party!”

You don't break his eye contact, chests still touching. He can sure as hell feel each heavy breath you take and probably every beat of your heart that seems to have sped up since he moved closer.

"Just go inside, go to your room, anything. Just don't fucking leave, your brother would have my balls if I let you go out alone this late at night.”

You roll your eyes at the mention of your brother. You love him, you really do, but hearing the word brother leaves Jeno’s lips reminds you exactly why he’s even here.

It’s not for you — it’s for Jaemin’s sake.

"I don't see why either of you care, you've got plenty of booze and girls to keep you occupied to not even notice me gone,” you stand your ground, trying to tug your arm once again but he still won't let go.

However, he has loosened his grip so it isn't so harsh, but it's still locked around your wrist. In fact, you’re sure you feel him drawing little circles on the inner skin with his thumb and that thought alone has you squirming no matter how much you try to ignore it.

"I think I'd always notice when you're not there," Jeno says under his breath, his face lowering to yours.

If you didn't know better then you’d think he was about to kiss you. But that can't happen. Can it?

Everything but your core is saying no. Your whole body is screaming to open up your mouth and say please. But you ignore it — you always do— and try to keep a brave face. But as he gets so close, too close, your eyes automatically flutter shut.

You expect his lips to graze yours but they don't, instead, you feel his cheek against you , only faintly, as his lips skim your ear lobe.

"I think I'd always notice when you're not there because there won't be some childish little brat moaning about not getting her own way."

Your eyes shoot open as he pulls back, laughing at your flushing cheeks. Your eyes narrow as you finally tug your arm hard enough this time that he has no choice but to release you.

"I do not moan about not getting my own way and I am not childish nor a brat,” you sneer at him.

"Sure,-" he huffs, laughing, crossing his arms over his chest. "Whatever you say."

"Why can’t you just go inside and leave me alone,” you cross your own arms over your chest.

"No can do." He stands there like some sort of bouncer, you look to your right and see the path only a few steps away. He watches you and says a low, demanding, "Don't."

But you do it.

You spin on your heel and run for it. But you only make it two steps before two large arms are wrapped around your waist from behind and you’re being sprung back into a hard chest. Jeno’s one arm sits tightly around your waist, his fingers digging into your hip and you squirm against him. To stop your wriggling, his other hand flies up to grab a hold of your throat, tilting your head back to the rest of his shoulder.

His eyes flash to his hand around your neck and he takes a deep breath that causes his eyes to flutter shut. Then you feel something growing behind you causing your own eyes to grow wide. He leans forward, lips skimming yours barely.

“I said don't." It sounded more like a growl than anything and a small whimper escaped your lips. "Are you going to walk inside or am I going to have to carry you?" He whispers still close to your mouth. If you lifted your head slightly, you’d be kissing.

"I'm not going back inside." You sternly reply, he just laughs and his hold loosens on you.

But he doesn’t free you. Instead he throws you clean over his shoulder in a fireman's lift.

“Put. Me. Down. Jeno." You scream, hitting his back, but he doesn't listen. Carrying on heading back inside your house.

Your cheeks are bright red and you stop your attack on Jeno’s back and decide to clench his shirt in your fists and hide your face in it.

"What's going on here?" You hear Jaemin’s voice and your head flies up.

"Your sister tried to escape," Jeno says laughing, bending down to lower you to the ground.

When he stood back up, you were so close your bodies touched again, your breasts rubbed against his firm chest and your nipples stiffened. His eyes glanced down to them and they darken, then he looks to you again and grabs your shoulders, spinning you around to face your brother. You automatically lifted your arms up and over your breasts to cover the obvious arousal.

"Come on Y/N, you know you can't be walking around aimlessly at night." Jaemin chastises you.

"I'm not a child Jaem," you roll your eyes with a shake of your head.

"So what? Grown ass people still get kidnapped!”

You groan, I'm going to my room."

You push past him and head towards the stairs. You turn around seeing Jeno’s smug face knowing he’s got his own way about you coming back inside.

But you won’t give him the satisfaction. You’ll just sneak out the window and have your perfect escape. He won't know.

Not like he’ll come to check — right?

You spin on your heel as you hear the sound of footsteps following behind you. Jeno’s there, eyes locked on your ass until he sees you looking back down at him and then cocks his head to the side and smiles innocently.

“What are you doing?” You spit.

"Just making sure you actually do go to your room." He flashes his infamous eye smile that has plagued your dreams since you first met him. "And that your windows are locked. Don't want you running away now do we?" he winks at you.

He’s so irritating!

With a huff, you turn around and storm your way up the last couple of stairs, making sure your stomps are extra loud. You can just hear Jeno snickering behind you and that only rattles you even more. When you reach the landing you turn immediately and head to the last door of the hallway and pull it open, stepping inside of your bedroom. You go to slam the door shut but a sneaker covered foot stops in between preventing it.

You immediately roll your eyes and groan.

"Leave me alone Jeno." You groan, leaning up against the door with your back, pushing it.

"Let me check your windows then I'll leave."

"What kind of request is that?” You sigh, running a hand through your hair.

"Just let me."

"No."

The two of you enter a stare off — one you both know he’s going to win. And he does, because you don’t even let two whole minutes pass before you’re huffing out a “Fine.”

He makes his way over to your window, making sure it's locked, then he chuckles, drawing your curtains too. The only thing lightening the room was your bedside lamp that you had an awful habit of leaving on. That, and it was the perfect deterrent to make it look like someone was in there, keeping strangers from having sex on your bed.

“All done?” You ask, breathy.

He smirks, his eyes flashing to your lips again and you swear to god if he does that one more time you’re either going to kick him in the balls or jump on him and kiss him.

You force yourself to take a step back and take a deep breath which makes him laugh.

"Well goodnight little Na, don't go sneaking out because I will know about it." He walks off to the door and before he exits you say,

"And how would you possibly know that?"

He looks over his shoulder, his eyes flash up and down your body, "I just will,” he winks then closes the door behind him.

You huff out and stomp your foot like a child. God you needed to grow a backbone and stop letting that idiot mess with you.

Storming into your bathroom you slam the door shut. You strip off your clothes and turn on the shower. Whilst waiting for it to get up to temperature, you sigh.

"Let me just lock your windows for ya." You pull a face copying him. "Want me to check that for ya?"

Once you’re done in the shower you climb out of it and dry yourself with a towel.

"He's so fucking annoying ugh," you say to yourself as you pull the bathroom door open and saunter into your bedroom naked.

You don't even check to see if anyone was in there, too busy ranting about him. And when you feel the cold draft of your bedroom it makes you realise you had just walked into your unlocked bedroom naked. Immediately, you covered your body remembering the party going on downstairs; but on first glance, it appeared no one was in there. Still you quickly grab your oversized grey t-shirt from the end of your bed, throwing it on over your head, but skipping your underwear.

Your room was fairly simple with white furniture, a wooden floor, soft pink bedding, a few cuddly toys. The bed lies against the far wall, opposite the door and you leave your lamp on to have a little bit of light to help you sleep.

Trying to fall asleep you flip over so your back faces the light. You try a few different sleep scenarios but everything keeps going back to Jeno.

And the way his hand gripped around your neck.

You flip over again, keeping your eyes shut, yet, Jeno just waltzes into your mind continuously. Like he won't leave you alone. You feel so much anger coursing through your blood, yet you have this strange pulling into your core.

You need to give attention to it — so you do. And as soon as you slip your hand under the covers, the fantasies start rolling in. Jeno’s arms around you, grabbing at your waist, your hips, your ass, your breasts.

Your breath hitches.

His tongue in your mouth, along your skin, tracing your neck and stomach, then between your folds lapping at you. Your eyes shoot open as you clench your thighs together and immediately feel the wetness.

It was just too much to ignore. This wasn’t going away. You already knew that.

You just needed some relief and then you’ll be free for the night. Jeno never needs to know and it’s not like you haven’t done this exact same thing before over him.

Your right hand finds your centre first, sliding between the folds and instantly feeling the slick wetness there. Slowly and sensually, you begin moving your fingers in a circular motion. Eyes closing instantly, flashes of Jeno now being played before you.

In your mind, it was no longer your hand but his. Rubbing your clit, sending shivers down your spine and causing a small panting moan to escape you.

Your left hand begins clutching at the sheets and as you feel your nipples peak and rub against the soft material of your shirt, you have no choice but to swiftly move your hand up and under to take hold of your own breasts and squeeze. You moan again as you begin to work your fingers faster over your clit.

Now in your head, Jeno stood before you shirtless. Seeing the ripples in the muscles of his abs, he flexes his arms, making you grow weaker. But you always felt like this whenever you saw him shirtless at the pool, or the beach.

And you couldn't deny how fucking sexy he was — you wouldn’t?”

"What’re you thinking about?"

You pause instantly, back arched, orgasm growing close and eyes squeezed shut. You can't decipher whether that voice was in your head or in real life so you just grow still and relax, trying to pretend it didn’t happen.

Your breathing which was already heavy, grows even more so, this time with panic and worry. You don't want to open your eyes, scared of what you might see because you recognised that voice.

At least, you’re really fucking hoping Jeno’s voice is all in your head, because you’re seconds away from orgasm.

"I asked you a question."

Your eyes fly open. He’s definitely not in your head.

Ripping your hand away from your clit, you pull the other away from your nipple and force yourself into a seated position with your hands splayed behind to hold you up. You scream on instinct, he doesn't so much as flinch as he stands at the end of your bed.

His eyes are dark, head low and looking up at you through his lashes. He has that smirk on his face, and his hands are fidgeting, rolling his fingers against his palm. Your eyes roam his body as your scream continues and you wish you hadn't, only because your scream turned into a moan as you spied his hard erection pushing against his jeans.

You gasp and look back at his face.

"What're you doing Jeno?" You whisper-shout, even though the party downstairs would make it difficult for anyone to hear you anyway.

Still, you didn’t want any party goers walking in on a flustered you in bed with Jeno and his very large, very prominent erection, standing at the base.

Fuck. It's so big. You can tell from how it's breaking at the seams of his jeans to be let free. Your mouth waters at the sheer thought of his dick — wondering what it looks like, how it feels in your hands, in your mouth — how it tastes.

Fuck no. Absolutely not.

You shake your head, trying to rid the thoughts and ignore the fact your core is pulsing right now, begging for one last touch so you can explode into orgasm. You really fucking needed it.

"I asked you what you were thinking about?" He says lowly, and it causes your breathing to still.

“H-how long have you been standing there?" You whimper.

He shrugs, “That doesn't matter, what does matter is-" he moves his head up, looking you dead in the eyes as he cracks his neck and then his fists in each hand. "-What you were thinking about whilst touching yourself? Was it me?"

He smirks again and you stood up, throwing the duvet off of your legs.

"Not a chance," He says sternly. You look at him again, face paling.

"What do you mean, no?" you ask, cocking your head.

"I mean don't you fucking move-" His tongue came out to lap at his bottom lip as his eyes moved down your body, down your legs.

You instantly went to grab the duvet again but he grabbed it first, ripping it from the bed and throwing it across the room. You get down on all fours, crawling to try and get it before him.

"Jeno!" You exclaim, reaching your hand out for it but it was too far away. You look up at him on all fours, and from this angle... God. You gulp.

"Give me my cover."

You try to wash away every fantasy of being in this position before him but you can't ignore the way you need his hard cock, seeping at the tip and begging for you to lick it, to suck it.

Stop. No. Not now.

His hand comes to the side of your face, pushing a piece of your hair behind your ear and you shiver at the touch.

"Lie. Back. On. The. Bed." He commands.

Your eyes flutter shut for a moment and then slowly, you move to follow his command until you are back down on the bed. You keep your legs closed and hands on your stomach.

You weren’t sure why you’re listening to him — obeying him . But something in you, some instinct is just screaming at you to let this play out, see what he wants.

"Touch yourself." He says and you blanch, your eyes growing wide and you sit up again, but one stern look from him has you lying back down again. "Touch yourself and tell me what you think of, how you feel, tell me everything Y/N."

Your name. He never bothers to call you that. Usually emphasising how you’re his best friend’s little sister with the nickname he’d given you. But honestly, you’re thankful for the nickname because hearing your actual name from his lips, all nasally and sensual, sends you spiralling.

It makes you putty in his hands. And as for your hands? Well, they slowly spread your legs wide revealing your soaking wet cunt to him. You keep your eyes pierced on him, watching how his breath hitches, eyes glued to you. The way he automatically grabs his cock through his jeans and squeezes is like a reflex. Closing his eyes only briefly before they're back on you, on your core.

You feel yourself growing red, the heat of embarrassment consuming you whole as you slide your hand down your stomach. As soon as your fingers make contact with your clit, your hips are bucking off of the bed and your back starts to curve. Building up your arousal doesn't take long. You were already half there, teetering on the edge.

Except this time your eyes lock onto Jeno’s for real whilst your fingers are moving, soft moans leaving your lips. You spy his own hand on his cock, he hasn't pulled it free but he moves his hand back and forth over his shaft. You can see the way his arms tense as he moves and watches you.

You throw your head back with another moan. Seeing him stood there isn't enough, you need something more. You need him climbing on top of you, replacing your fingers with his. His hot breath against your neck as he rubs you harder and faster.

"What are you thinking about?"

"You." You say breathily.

"What about me?"

Your eyes shoot open to stare at him, he looks tense and flustered. Just as bad as you. His hand stops moving on his cock and you make a mental note that he might've been close. Too close. And this might be over too soon.

"Your fingers on my clit, rubbing me," you throw your head back as the fantasy flashes again.

"Yes, and what else?" He growls.

"Your mouth." You breathe again.

"My mouth, huh?" He bites and your fantasy continues.

"Yes. Everywhere." You cry out, orgasm seconds away. "Your mouth on me, about to- God, Jeno I'm gonna cum,” your back arches, hips bucking, fingers moving so fast and rough.

"Look at me." Your eyes fly open at the command. "I want you to cum whilst looking at me."

And you do. The sheer dominance radiating off of him is the final straw that has you crashing down.

Your orgasm rips through you as your hips lift so far off the bed. You moved your fingers through your orgasm, riding it out but finally, your hips fell back to the bed and you let out a heavy breath.

Before you could even open your eyes again, you felt two large arms wrap under your thighs gripping your hips, and suddenly you’re yanked to the end of the bed. Your eyes snap open, and your head lifts up as you spy Jeno on his knees at the end of the bed, his mouth centimetres from your dripping pussy.

"J-Jeno,” you mumble, just the sight of him has you moaning.

You’re not sure if getting yourself off in front of him was the moment you both decided to cross the line; but now him manoeuvring between your legs, you knew you definitely had. Regardless, you know now you aren't ever going back to the dynamic you had before.

"I’m gonna make those fantasies come to life baby.”

He doesn't miss a beat. His tongue comes out and swipes a long lick up and through your folds. All common sense leaves your head as you fall back against the bed.

"God, you taste so good. I fucking knew you would."

He’s thought about this? You know you have.

He repeats the motion again, this time focusing on your clit, making sure to run a smooth stripe along it, circling it only slightly, enough to have you wriggling. One of his hands splays over your stomach, holding your hips down.

"I want you to cum on my tongue. I want to taste every drop of you,” you gulp, looking down at him between your thighs. You don't miss the dark pupils in his eyes and that daring look, the one telling you to follow his instructions.

"Jeno, oh my god,” you cry out, your head flying back as his mouth attacks your clit. He sucks it in, flicking his tongue all over in a frenzied motion.

You know he knows all the right ways to make a girl squirm. And you are fucking squirming. All over the fucking bed, you’d be breaking free from him if he didn't have his large veined hand holding your stomach down. Your stomach is now on show. Your t-shirt has risen up to just below your breasts and you see the way his eyes watch the movement as you move about, tits bouncing around.

And as if he can hear your thoughts he says,

"Take your top off."

You do it without question, lifting the hem and throwing it over your head. Now you’re laying there completely naked. His hand that was on your stomach comes up and takes hold of one breast, instantly taking your nipple between his fingers and you hear him, no you feel him, moan into your pussy.

The vibrations cause you to cry out, hands knuckling the bed sheets.

"You're so fucking hot Y/N, God." He murmurs before attacking you again, his mouth working wonders.

And that tongue. You’re so close. You can feel it.

Then you feel as he slides two fingers into you. Jeno curls his fingers inside of you, hitting some sort of sensitive spot, and as soon as his fingers massage that area inside you and his mouth returns to your clit, you explode.

You don't even know if the music downstairs would cover your screams as you fell into ecstasy. His hand on your breast doesn’t move, but the one that had been hooked on your hip moves to splay against your stomach holding you down as he laps at you, riding you through your second orgasm until you couldn’t take it anymore. He pulls his fingers out, then his mouth away from you at just the right time.

You lay there spent. Completely.

Eyes fluttering open. Jeno stood between your legs looking down at you. His cock looked painful in his jeans. You had once felt exhausted and ready to fall asleep but as soon as you saw his erection you shot up in your seat. You immediately fumble with his jeans until his hand comes to your jaw, pulling your head up to look into his eyes. He stares for a moment before blinking, taking a deep breath.

"You don't have to- I didn't do that for you to-"

"I want to. I want this." You nod eagerly,"I want you.”

You lick your lips and it's as if something snaps in him, that moment of care vanishes and he lets go of your chin.

"Well then, suck my cock,” he says, standing there and you do as you’re told.

You unfasten his jeans, pull them down and then his underwear. His large erect cock springs free instantly and without a second thought you take hold of him in your hand. Your hands look tiny against his dick.

You move your hand slowly up and down his cock, and notice how his thighs tense, then his stomach and you follow your eyes up until you meet his face. His head is hung low, eyes dark and hands clenched by his sides. Keeping your eyes on his, you lean forward and spy the precum, flicking your tongue out and taking it in to swallow down with a moan that makes him grunt.

You moved so that your face was closer to his balls, then you stroked your tongue all along his length, and felt the way he flexed beneath your muscle. There’s a cocky smirk covering your face when you move back to the top and suck his tip into your mouth.

"Do you like sucking my cock?" He asks, his hand threading into your hair to start pulling on the roots to yank your head backwards.

"Do you like it when I suck your cock, Jeno?" You flip the question with a smile the power in your hands. You continue working him and he flexes his hand in your hair.

"That's how you wanna play?" He grins at you.

You pretend to think for a moment, "I’m not playing anything." You move your head closer down his length, licking another long stripe hearing how he curses under his breath and thrusts his hips towards you. "I just want to suck your cock."

With that, you take him into your mouth, sliding down until you reach your limit. You can't take him whole, he’s way too big for that, but you take what you can. He coughs and splutters a bunch of inaudible words, but you just pull back up and repeat the motion, continuing to take him back into your throat.

His hand stays threaded in your hair, keeping a rough hold so that you can't pull away — not that you wanted to.

You love every second. Even as you feel him tensing, his hips moving as he thrusts into your mouth. You look up through your lashes to see his head thrown back as he moans out and hisses every so often when you drag your teeth along his cock. You can tell he likes it as the precum coats your tongue. That and the way he doesn't tell you to stop.

"Do. That. Again."

And you do, watching his head fall forwards."Such a pretty sight, my cock filling your mouth. What do you think your brother would think about this?" he smirks and your face falls pale.

You almost stop sucking his dick but he doesn't let you, slamming his hips forwards so his cock hits the back of your throat.

Your brother.

Not a thought you want to think about right now but it is something you needed to consider. This was his best friend. You’d finally gotten the man so forbidden, always out of bounds. The whole time you didn’t know that he wanted you as much as you wanted him.

You moan uncontrollably, and it must send vibrations along his cock as you feel it twitch in your mouth, his thrusts become sloppy and his grip on your hand grows tighter.

"Fuck, Y/N, I'm gonna cum." He grits out. "Are you gonna let me cum in that pretty mouth of yours?"

You look up at him. You can't speak so you try to nod.

"God, you’ve always been the death of me," He thrusts several more times as you slide your tongue all over his length and tip.

You do it a final time as you take him to the back of your throat, gliding your teeth along him which must've been his undoing as you felt the hot steaming cum splatter against the back of your throat.

You pulled him out your mouth slowly. Even as he is softening he is still thick and large. You kitten lick the tip as he hisses, causing him to loosen his grip in your hair and you sit back, making sure to obviously gulp so he knows you swallowed every last drop of him. Leaning forwards, his hand comes to your chin and he moves his mouth so close to your you think he might kiss you but instead he says,

"Good girl."

You hate the way those two words made you clench your thighs together. You thought the two orgasms were enough but no, you’re ready for more. You need more.

He’s quick to remove his shirt, and as he lifts his arms his abs flex. You are point-blank gawking at him standing before you, making him smirk.

That snaps you out of it. Remembering you are sitting here, soaking wet and naked before him. You crawl back on the bed and then realise you have no duvet so you have to pull your knees to your chest and cross your arms over your knees to cover yourself.

He watches you, laughs and then shakes his head. He then moves, shoving off his jeans and underwear the rest of the way off until they both land on the floor.

"Wh-What are you doing?" You ask stuttering, thinking he should actually be getting dressed to leave.

"What do you think I'm doing?" he asks.

Can't he ever just give you a simple answer?

Then you notice how his cock has sprung to life again and his hand moves to touch it. Moving up and down the length as he cracks his neck.

"You're h-hard again?" You stutter, eyes glued to the impressive size of him.

"I'm always hard for you baby." He winks and for once, it didn't make you want to punch him.

"Jeno, we can't." You shake your head.

You’re already way past the line. Sex would destroy the whole scale. Still, the idea of him, his cock inside of you, whispering filthy things in your ear... it isn't something you can ignore.

"You want it." He says point blankly.

You gulp and remain silent. He moves onto the bed, kneeling and then crawls towards you until he is over you. His hair has fallen over his eyes — so fucking hot. "I know you want it, why try to deny it?" He cocks his head to the side, smugly.

"I-I'm not." You fidget.

“Yes, you are." He ducks his head low, burying it in your neck. You feel his warm breath and your heartbeat rackets so loud. "You don't want to want me to fuck you,” His teeth graze your neck, sending you into a panting mess as he sucks and bites.

He then pulls away and laps at the mark you know is there, the one he put there as a reminder tomorrow when you come to your senses that you did this.

"So I’ll ask again. What do you want?" He looks down at you, plump pink lips swollen and wet from his constant licking and biting them.

You’re going to let your brothers best friend fuck you. And you’re going to love every second of it.

Not wasting another moment longer to think, you grab hold of his neck and lift your head whilst pulling him to you to smash your lips together. There’s heat, fire, and explosions of electricity.

Your hands claw at his neck, his back, his sides. Anything to pull him closer. His crotch, his hard cock, grinds against your soaking hole and you groan out whilst continuing to kiss him. Both so desperate for each other. His hands skim down your body, kneading your breasts, your hips. He grabs hold of anywhere and everywhere.

His lips detach from yours, giving you a moment to see how swollen they are before they're attacking your neck. He peppers kisses along your jaw, not sweet kisses but hard and sloppy kisses. Sucking and biting the skin causing your back to arch into his chest, pushing your breasts against him, making him moan. He thrusts his hips forwards, his cock sliding between your folds, hitting against your clit making you quiver.

"Fuck, we really shouldn't be doing this." He continues kissing you down your neck, reaching your collar bones that he also decides to leave marks on.

"Jeno please," you cry out. Both of his hands move to your hips to hold you still.

"Please what baby?" He smirks before moving lower to take one of your nipples into his mouth.

"Fuck Jeno,” you cry out as he flicks his tongue over the bud, biting it harshly so you cry out again then soothing it with a soft warm suck.

"Please what baby?" He repeats.

"Fuck me. Now!”

"And what about your brother?" he brings him up again and you roll your eyes.

"Stop bringing him up," You moan as he takes your other nipple into his mouth, repeating the process.

"He'll kill us if he finds out." he grins.

"Then he can't find out," You pant out of breath as Jeno moves.

His face is so close to yours that your lips are only just touching, his chest is pushed against you and his cock sits lodged between your folds. You try to shift to gain some friction against your clit but his grip holds you still. His eyes flicker across your face then he says,

"I won't tell if you won't?" His lips caress yours in the faintest of movements. You flick your tongue out to wet your lips, but in the process he bites onto your muscle making you wince then moan, "What do you think, huh?”

There’s no room for discussion — your body won’t let you.

"I won't tell if you won't."

He doesn't miss a beat once he gets your approval. His lips are on yours as his hips thrust forwards. His cock thrusting inside of you, tearing you open as you pull your mouth away to cry out.

"Holy fuck."

He stills once inside you, making sure to push as far as possible until his pelvis meets your skin. Your legs wrap around his waist instantly.

"You feel so fucking good." He breaks from your kiss to breathe. "I always knew you would but this-" he looks down to where you are connected and he thrusts further, trying to get deeper but he can't possibly. "-this is better than anything I could've imagined."

"Move, please." You grunt trying to lift your hips to encourage some movement. His eyes fly open, dark and daring.

"Beg me." He smirks and does a tiny thrust, a teasing thrust.

"Fuck off,” you pant, trying to do it yourself but he uses his hips to pin you to the bed.

"Beg." He smiles and cocks his head to one side. "Me."

You hated his arrogance. But fuck, you want him so bad. So badly that you will beg.

"Please fuck me, Jeno." He pulls out of you and you suck in a deep breath.

"Again." He grins now.

You can't bear to look at him but looking down means watching as he holds just the tip inside of me.

"Please. Fuck. Me." You pant, half moaning, begging for him.

He thrusts so hard into you, you wince and moan out in pleasure. He hit so deep inside that you’re sure you’ll bruise.

"Anything for you, Y/N,” he whispers in your ear before sucking and biting on the lobe.

Then he's pulling out and thrusting into you. Again. And again. And again. Harder and harder each time. Faster and faster. You lose your breath, becoming a big ball of pants and moans — just like Jeno.

God, the sounds he makes. You’ve never heard someone so vocal before, but fuck it's hot. The small grunts he makes when he fucks you, the groans when you clench around his cock and feel yourself building. He moves his hands under your ass to lift it, plummeting into you from a new angle, going so much deeper.

"Your pussy is so tight. Fuck,” He says between thrusts, and gritted teeth.

He seems to have found a weak spot right under your ear that has you clenching like mad around his cock. And he loves it.

"How have you just been there in front of me this whole time? How have I stayed away from you?" He seems to be asking himself because he doesn’t press you for a reply.

He removes his lips from your neck and sits back on his heels, his cock still inside of you, slowing his thrusts and he lifts your legs up, moving them over his shoulders. His head moves from side to side, placing a soft kiss on each ankle and for one second. You’re dumbfounded as he looks at you, a daring smirk written across his face.

He wraps his arms around your thighs, locking your legs in a straight position against his chest on either side of his head, and then he begins pounding into you again. However this time, he moves one of his hands to your centre, his thumb moving closer to your clit. You feel how it grazes your nerves. He strums it once. Twice. Three times then you're wriggling around like a mess, back arching off as your orgasm tears through your body and you explode into euphoria. Again.

He rides you through it, fucking you as you clench and squeeze around him. A string of curse words come out of him, you feel him so close but he doesn't cum. He stops stroking your clit as you batted his hand away, you didn't realise you had been clenching the sheets with white knuckles until you relax your hands and feel a cramp in your palm.

Jeno slows his thrusts until he stills inside of you, his chest is moving up and down with each of his heavy breaths. You move your legs off of his shoulders, enjoying the movements as your legs feel strained too.

But as soon as your feet hit the bed, he grabs you and flips you so you land on your stomach. He pulls your hips up and slides into you again.

"Fuck!" You scream as he slams into you unapologetically. One hand holding your hip, the other trails along your back as he begins fucking you from behind. He leans over you, still ploughing, and comes closer to your ear.

"I always wanted to fuck you like this, you are always strutting around showing off, your ass? Do you like teasing me?"

You don't even know what you like right now. Mind too focused on needed Jeno to fuck you any way he pleased.

He grins, then shoves your head back down into the mattress, straightening his back and fucks you harder than you think you’ve ever have been before. You couldn't keep up with the movements, head a complete daze from all of the orgasms that he had given you.

You come to a conscious mind when a hard slap lands on your ass, it makes your pussy throb so he does it again, and again, rubbing over the area and soothing it before doing it again. Each time it makes you clench around him.

"Jeno," you cry out between thrusts.

"Yeah, baby?" His voice sounded so much deeper, which told you he was close. That and the way his thrusts grew random and unstable.

"Want you to cum in me," You moan, clenching the sheets again.

"I'm not wearing a condom," He grits through his teeth.

"I'm on the pill,” you manage to say between heavy breaths. You needed him to cum in you now.

He shakes his head, "Last thing I need is to get my best friend's little sister pregnant." And that was that because he thrust a few more times, then pulls out, and instantly, all over your ass and back you felt a hot liquid splatter about.

As soon as his grip left your hip you fell straight down onto the mattress, and your body was thankful for it. Everything hurt. He'd destroyed you. Fucked you, well and truly. And you couldn't stop the smile on your face.

"I'll go get a cloth." He said through some heavy breaths then climbed off of the bed and went to your bathroom. He emerged a moment later, used the warm cloth to clean up his mess although you notice him take a minute to look at it.

"Admiring your work?" You asked him through a laugh, he looked at you and shook his head chuckling.

"Trust me, if I could take a picture I would,” he wipes it away. Then he returned to the bathroom to throw the cloth in the hamper but as soon as he stood in the doorway of you heard three loud knocks on your bedroom door.

"Y/N? You in there? Have you seen Jeno?"

You shot up in bed, suddenly not tired or spent. Jeno’s eyes grew wide too.

You lifted your finger to your lips and gestured to Jeno to stay in the bathroom. He didn't hesitate as he shuts the door.

Jaemin would fucking kill him and you, without a doubt. Only moments ago you had his best friend’s cum covering your ass.

"One second," you shout, jumping out of bed and grabbing your T-shirt. Then you rush over to the door, paint on your best sleeping face and yawn whilst opening it.

"Oh, you were asleep?" Jaemin stood on the other side, hands braced on either side of the door frame.

You fake another yawn. He looks behind you and you turn too, fearful Jeno was standing there but then you spied your duvet cover on the other side of the room. Jamein frowned and looked back to you.

"I was hot." You shrug.

"Shit sorry," He quickly says. "I just can't find Jeno anywhere.”

"He’s your friend not mine.”

"I don’t understand why you two hate each other," He rolls his eyes and you can't help but scoff at the irony.

Hate wasn’t exactly the word you’d use for the guy that was just 8 inches deep inside of you.

"Well, he's probably off getting high or fucking some girl.”

“Better not be in our parent’s bed again,” he huffs, and your eyes go wide. “Fuck, he better not be doing it in my bed either,” he says to himself.

And with that, he storms away heading for his room. Chuckling, you shut the door and Jeno emerges from the bathroom, a towel now wrapped around his waist and he stands there facing you.

"That was close."

"Too close." You sigh.

He dresses himself as you climb back in bed, getting your duvet back on and covering yourself with it. He walks over to the door and pulls it open, peeking outside to check the coast is clear, then once he does he turns to look over his shoulder at you.

"Our secret?" He says.

"Our secret." You nod and he steps out, not looking back and shuts the door.

You lie back on your bed, head falling into your pillows and laugh.

But then you shake your head processing it all, moving your hand to cover your mouth, looking at the ceiling.

You just fucked your brother’s best friend.

#jeno smut #jeno x reader #nct smut #nct x reader #nct dream smut #nct dream x reader #jeno scenarios #nct scenarios #kpop smut #nct hard hours

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robocoplesb · 7 months

Note

Hey! Thanks for answering my question<3

I saw that you have smut posted but if you don't want to write that I can request something sfw.

I'm also taking requests so feel free to message me <3

Request;

Can I have a Nikki Sixx smut where reader is Nikki's soft spot and he's an asshole to everybody but her, so when she's being a brat at soundcheck for the Dr. Feelgood tour he just takes her back to his dressing room and gives her some softdom punishment? Like praising and thigh riding and stuffs?

Thankies!! ^^

I HATE EVERYONE ELSE IN THE WORLD BUT YOU, nikki sixx.

warnings: smut, thigh riding, blowjob, kisses, jealous!nikki, longfic (?), you and nikki have a long term relationship, praise, degradation, punishment.

author's note: hey bae! apologies for the delay. this is probably the longest thing i've ever written, i hope you don't mind. i don't have that much experience writing smut so I'm sorry if it didn't turn out the way you wanted! also, really liked your blog:) good read, kisses<3

“— do you think...like...he's okay?” — tommy asked you, almost static as you two watched nikki argue with a random sound crew guy.

“— uhum.” — you muttered, with a carefree expression. you knew better than anyone how stressed nikki was lately. you were probably the only person who understood him, who understood how important that album was to him and how he was really trying. during the recording of the album, you waited for him at home late at night, just to listen to him and be able to help with what was possible.

even though vince, tommy and mick thought you didn't care much for his sudden humor outbursts, you were always keeping an eye on him. did you know that most of the time, he just started yelling at people on pure impulse, but still wanted to prevent something worse from happening.

and, well, the boys loved you like you were part of their “family”, from the moment they met you as nikki's new girlfriend, a few years ago, they knew you weren't like the others. you kept pace with nikki, but were still very responsible and decided, and that was exactly what he needed. the thing is: not even all that affection they had for you was able to make them not be confused by how nikki was with you compared to others. it was obvious to everyone that you were the love of his life, yet they still couldn't understand how he could be so sweet to you while being such an asshole to everyone else.

and that was exactly what tommy was thinking about when he didn't even notice the bassist approaching you two. but you notice, you took a deep breath and smiled as your eyes followed nikki's figure, relieved because he dropped the argument.

tommy winced, noticing the annoyed expression on nikki's face as he walked. before he could start thinking about the thousands of shit nikki would shout at him at that moment, he saw nikki's expression change instantly as he walked towards you.

“— hey, princess.” — he says to you as he passes by you two, not forgetting to leave a peck on your lips.

honestly, for the drummer, there was no logical explanation for what happened between you and your boyfriend. he starts to consider bringing the idea of always keeping you around to vince and mick, thinking it was the easiest way to deal with nikki.

tommy turned to where you were sitting next to him, wanting to tell you a joke about it, but you weren't there. he quickly scans the stadium and stage, trying to find you. he can see you running after nikki to the dressing room before the two of you disappear behind the curtains.

★

the boys were about 20 minutes waiting for nikki, they had agreed to meet in the stage in ten minutes, for soundcheck, but all they knew was that, according to tommy, you and him disappeared somewhere backstage to make out. mick, visibly irritated, prepared to grab his guitar and head back to the dressing room when the bassist finally appeared. he seemed calmer, it was evident for the stupid smile on his face and (your) red lipstick stains on his neck. the guitarist wants to punch him for how calm he looks even though he knows he is 20 minutes late.

by the time he arrives at his position on stage, you sit in another corner of the stage, a little away from the musicians.

"— so, are we starting this shit or what?"

they went through five songs before the first break (which happened because vince said he wanted to go over some more lyrics again). nikki slung the bass over her shoulder and looked at where you were a few minutes ago, recording the soundcheck. he remembers seeing you there at the beginning of the last song, but now, you weren't there anymore.

he looked back and saw tommy walking to the dressing room. he shouted, getting the drummer's attention.

“— tommy, have you seen yn around here?"

“— nah, man. she must have gone to get some water or something” — he said quickly and went back on his way.

nikki imagined the same and didn't care too much at first, walking to his own dressing room. at least, he didn't care too much until he saw where you were. or better, who you were with. when he looked at the door, a plate with his name carved behind you and a very familiar man. evan-fucking-decker. he stood there, watching, trying to figure out the possibility of evan decker showing up backstage at a mötley crue concert and meeting you.

so, evan was like a roadie for the band for a few years, a long time ago. things kind of ended with him when he and nikki had an little intense argument. years later, at a festival, they met again, but this time you and nikki were already together. your boyfriend was at least surprised when you and the blonde recognized each other. when you were alone again, you told him you met evan as teenager, at summer camp, and that you stopped talking after he confessed liking you.

normally, nikki didn't give a shit about things from the past, like relationships and stuff like that. however, nikki remembered one time talking to evan late at night, drinking and talking about their lives. he remembered evan telling about a girl he fell in love with when he was younger. he remembered the whole story, actually, including the part where he said he hoped to meet her again someday, maybe get a second chance. maybe that memory made him think he noticed something different in evan's look at you. after that day, you met a few more times, always at music-related events, but nikki always looked sulky when he saw that man's face. until today, you didn't knew why.

“— sixx! it's been so long!” — fuck. did he really have to talk to that guy?

nikki fakes his best smile as he walks up to you both, putting an arm around your waist and leaves a kiss on your cheek.

“— hey, evan, didn't know you would be here today!” — he said, trying to sound as friendly as possible as his hand lightly squeezed you waist.

“— ah, my friend is helping with the production. decided to stop by to visit an old friend.” — evan looked at you as he spoke, blushing a little.

you laughed as nikki tried very hard not to open that dressing room door and lock himself in there with you until he left. the feel of your head resting on his shoulder may have been what calmed him down.

“— so, hm..you are...like..” — he said, looking a little nervous when he noticed how close you and nikki were.

“— yes! for three years. you didn't knew?"

nikki thanks you for answering before him. for him, it was amazing the way evan's expression changed from excitement to disappointment. he wanted to laugh, looking like a bully kid at school.

“— no..hm, i heard something about it but i didn't believe.” — he said, kinda awkwardly .

“— why not?” — you asked, laughing, like it was a joke.

“— ah, you know...” — he chuckles — “— you are kind of opposite spirits.”

you got confused. in fact, one of the reasons you were attracted to nikki since the first time you saw him, it was how you felt he was the first person who shared the same thoughts as you. how you felt understood.

before thinking of an answer, you turned to your boyfriend, noticing how silent he was. something nikki didn't know about you is that you could read his thoughts just by hearing his voice on the phone. you always knew how he was feeling, and although there were few times he got jealous of you, did you notice his grip on your waist, almost possessive, and the look at evan, almost murderous.

you thought it was funny, and it was a good opportunity to get rid of the boredom you was feeling all morning. you quickly say goodbye to evan, pushing nikki into the dressing room.

“— finally.” — he says, taking a deep breath and sitting down on the couch. “— i can't stand that guy.”

you laughed as you closed the door. you went to the couch too, sitting on nikki's lap.

“— i can't believe you're jealous of a guy i haven't seen in almost three years.” — you said in a mocking tone as you settled into his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“— apparently, three years wasn't enough for him to forget you.” — he rolled his eyes, trying hard not to give in to your touch.

“— why are you so affected by this?” — you asked as looked into his eyes. “— i didn't even remember his name. i'm not his friend since i was 15. i thought you were more confident..” — you smiled, teasing him.

“— and i thought you were smarter.” — he said seriously, making you start to get annoyed at his childish behavior. “— honestly, he fucking asked if we are dating, when he knows we are, because you said it when he met us at that festival. he was literally waiting for you to say no so he could take you to the nearest bathroom and-”

“— fine! fuck it, i understood!” — you interrupted him, putting your hand over his mouth for him to stop talking — “— fucking gross, sixx.." — you said a little disgusted, wondering how he was going to finish that sentence.

he gently grabbed your wrist and removed your hand from his face. “— well, that's exactly what he wants, whether you like it or not. and, you know, i'm generally not a big fan of guys who want to try their luck with my girlfriend.”

you smile and hold back your laughter "— i'm not going to argue with you because you look really cute when you get all possessive." — you get closer, leaving a few kisses on his face.

and nikki tries to maintain that tough pose, but when he feels you so close, after 20 minutes away, and knowing that now he will have to spend at least an hour without touching you, it seems like pride just disappears. nikki has always been like this with you, but only with you. it was physically impossible for him not to treat you like a goddess 100% of the time. and he saw you like that, as a point of light and comfort in his mind, he absolutely adored you.

you giggle against his skin as you feel his fingertips caress your hips. you pull away and stare at him for a moment. god, nikki was the most beautiful man in the world, you were sure of that.

his redemption to your charms is sealed by the gentle kiss he leaves on your lips. he feels like he melts with the artificial strawberry taste on your lips, pulling you closer until it's impossible to deepen that kiss any further. but it was still gentle, the way he held you by your waist, or how he smiled when he felt you moan softly against his lips, it was gentle.

you wish it had lasted longer. in fact, if you had known that the conversation with evan would take up so much of the time that you and nikki could have been making out on the couch, you would've said goodbye before. but you only realized when mick's angry voice sounded through the dressing room.

“— seriously, sixx, feel free to get into yn's pants AFTER the show ends, preferably”

you realize that nikki is ready to shout some childishness at mick, but thinks it's not worth it. you two would have more time after soundcheck, right?

before he says anything, you grab his face and kiss him again. less time consuming, sweet enough to make him forget whatever he was going to yell at mick.

you get off his lap and he kisses you one last time before going back to the stage. a simple goodbye that can't hide how much you both wanted to not care about any of that and can simply extend that moment.

★

"— who's that?” — nikki heard tommy ask, but didn't even bother to answer.

actually, tommy didn't care, but he was a little worried about nikki. he saw the bass player standing still for the last 10 minutes after the sound check was over. he thought nikki was going to run into his arms, but he was just staring at you talking to some random guy from afar.

“— ...nikki?” — tommy put his hand on nikki's shoulder, surprised when he felt the bassist walk away abruptly in your direction. confused, he just turned around to sort out his own things.

so, contextualizing, maybe you felt a little bored after a long 20 minutes of lying on the couch and listening to the band practice. I mean, not that it was boring. you loved life on the road, and loved accompanying the boys on tour, but you just didn't do much more than watch the boys all day before going back to the hotel.

it started as a silly joke, you thought nikki didn't even notice. you told evan that you were sorry for saying goodbye so hastily, he just laughed and said he understood. you said a few things to see if he would continue the topic, which he did without hesitation. so, you weren't sure how long you had been here, briefly listening to everything evan was saying, nodding your head to pretend you were paying complete attention as you let yourself catch your eye on nikki on stage from time to time.

you caught him staring a few times, which was the only reason you stayed where you were. you thought it was funny that nikki thought nvan liked you, because besides thinking it was stupid, all you could think about was how impossible it was. he was a nice guy, but wasn't even close to being your type.

In fact, you weren't so sure you thought he was that nice when you felt something akin to relief at being pulled away from him. the weak grip of nikki's hand on your arm, pulling you back to the dressing room, makes you laugh as you look at your boyfriend's serious expression.

“— baby, what's that?” — you say, laughing softly, knowing that nikki's temper wouldn't last long.

and he doesn't answer you, just opening the door and slipping into the room with you again.

"— no, sincerely, what the fuck was that?" - he lets go of your arm, sitting on the couch while rubbing his temples.

"— it was your girlfriend talking with someone, stupid” — You said, testing his patience. you weren't trying to be mean to nikki, you were just interested in the consequences that would bring you.

“— oh no, don't act innocent. you weren't even paying attention to what he was saying!"

“— how do you know? you weren't there!” — you say, holding back a laugh.

ge leans back on the couch, looking at you. “— because not even when you try can you take your attention away from me, right?"

you smile and cross your arms, walking towards him. you slowly sit on his lap, searching for any trace of calm on nikki's face. the depth in his greenish irises is what makes you want to go all the way. you feel his hand go up from your knee to your thigh, you place your hand on top of his, caressing the tips reddened from the bass.

“— you are terrible at teasing” — you both laugh as you adjust yourself on his lap, facing him.

“— really? it's not how you reacted...” — you smiled mischievously as you felt his hands running around your waist.

you know you have what you wanted when you feel the hunger of his lips against yours. the desperate way he squeezes your waist, pulling you closer, wanting more. you moan against his lips during this, feeling the pressure of his leg against your intimacy as he guides your body closer to his.

you immediately feel like you should have held in that fucking moan, because the next one is even louder, when nikki purposely presses her thigh against your clothed pussy again. despite the layers of your clothes, the warm feeling that spreads through your body is not light and it makes you want to cry knowing that he would still tease you for a while longer.

"— that's what you were thinking this whole time, baby? all needy...” — he laughs. you try your best to focus on what he was saying, but you just can't. you feel your body needy, fighting for more contact with nikki's, at a point where it's all you can think about.

you run your fingers along the zipper of his pants, trying to undo it, but is interrupted by nikki's hand patting yours, scolding you.

“— uh-huh...not yet” — the smile he gives you says enough, he wants to see how far you'll go for this. honestly, you could kneel down and beg at that point, but along with the excitement, your ego stayed with you at that moment. "— i won't touch you yet, pretty thing. i want to see how you will relieve yourself now.”

"— nikki-” — you pant, not sure if you can handle his teasing right now.

“— what, honey? did you think i was going to give you everything so easily?” — he took your hand from his crotch, bringing it to his lips and leaving a chaste kiss. “— you will show me that you deserve it first. actually, we both know you don't, hm? but I'll give you what you want anyway, I'll just make you beg a little”

and that's exactly what he does, in that way that he knows turns you on. the cynical look and that provocative smile that never leaves his face as he follows your every move.

he has fun with it all. you let out a whimper of dissatisfaction as you grip his shoulders, revolted by the idea of having to reach your own climax even when your fucking boyfriend was beneath you.

you started with quick movements, using all the strength your sensitive body had at that moment to continue the movements up and down nikki's thigh.

you're sure that with every inch your sex travels against his leg, you get more wet. you try to hold back your moans, wanting to show some control in the situation, but it is impossible. you feel small at nikki's look, frustrated with how he was managing to control himself.

he controls himself well, biting his lip while an arm is around your waist, he looks serene despite the fact that he's holding himself back from ruining you on that couch.

and it was hard to control himself while you looked such a beautiful mess on him. the messy hair, the lip gloss smudged on the corner of the mouth, the shirt strap falling off your shoulder (which made him groan softly when he realized you weren't wearing anything under your shirt)

he could feel the tightness in his own pants as you moved more intensely, listening to the pornographic noises you made. he was sure he could hear it outside the dressing room, he just didn't really care. it wasn't like you could just let yourself care about it now, too busy pleasing yourself.

you pressed your face against nikki's neck, slightly muffling your moans, not like it helped. your whimpers turned into long moans, full of need. nikki understood why your moans became even louder against his skin, noticing how you are trying even harder to move.

“— what, princess? got tired of rubbing yourself like a little whore on me?" — he said mocking.

panting, you hold onto him tightly when you stop moving, feeling your pussy dripping with excitement. he leaves a slap on your ass before grabbing it, his big hands not being gentle at all as he brings his lips closer to your ear.

“— that's what you are, right, baby? my desperate little whore..."

you nod your head. “— i am.” — you whisper. It's funny to see how you struggle to hold onto his words, all to show yourself as his possession.

that's how he made you feel. his. his girl. his whore. all his. and this feeling you gave him, the feeling of possession, of having you, it was the purest confirmation that he was yours just the same.

"— you are, huh?” — he laughs. nikki's hand goes behind your neck, making you look at him. his gaze is deep as he brings his thumb to your lips, slightly parting them to stick a finger in your mouth.

you moan as you run your tongue against his finger. he trails kisses from your chest to your neck. then from your neck to your cheek, stopping at your earlobe.

“— get on your knees for me, princess.”

he takes his finger out of your mouth, lightly patting your cheek before leaning in to kiss you again. he kisses you hungrily, deeply, you reciprocate with the same intensity.

when his lips leave yours, you both know what's going to happen. he leans back on the couch as he watches you get off his lap and kneel between his legs. he smiles at the sight, stroking your hair as you look at him.

"— such a beautiful little thing..."

you don't want him to notice that you blushed at his comment, quickly turning her face and looking at his pants, undoing the zipper. his cock was visibly marked by his already tight leather pants. you hurry to take off his boxers.

you push the tip to your lips, giving kitten-licks while stroking the rest of his length. the moan that nikki lets out sounds relieved. he closes his eyes at the warm feeling of your tongue touching his member.

it doesn't take long for you to take all of him in your mouth. your hands rest on his thighs as you hum against his dick, feeling the tip going deeper, your tongue running from the tip to his balls. you were trying to take it slow, not choke, but your boyfriend didn't contribute much.

despite the loud moans, he wanted more. you were caught off guard when he grabbed your hair to press your face against his crotch, making you gag. you close your eyes and let out a soft moan that is muffled by his cock, trying your best to take deep breaths through your nose, the tip hits deep in your throat. You open your eyes when he softens his grip on your hair, pulling you back before rubbing the dick against your lips.

you moan and lick everything he puts within reach of your tongue. he lets you take a deep breath before pushing his cock into your mouth again, again and again.

“— fuck, that's a good girl. such a good girl for me, princess. taking me so good..."

you hear him moan as he fucks your mouth. you roll your eyes in pleasure at the sensation, feeling a little saliva drip from your mouth to your chest.

“— i'm going to cum so hard in that little mouth.” — he says, feeling the orgasm getting closer and closer. "— my fucking little slut, waiting for me to put you on your place.”

and you like being treated like that, you both know. going from a princess to a whore, making you feel even wetter every time he degrades or praises you.

all that hits you is nikki's loud, hoarse moan as you feel something hot running down your throat. he finally lets go of your hair as you feel his taste invade your senses. it's something fine between sweet and savory, but you couldn't say you don't think it's delicious.

“— so good, princess, so fucking good..." — he says breathlessly. you feel a hand caress your cheek before patting nikki's thigh, inviting you to sit there again.

you gather some strength in your body before practically throwing yourself on nikki's lap. he laughs and hugs your waist before pulling you closer, kissing you again.

he kisses you gently, making you whimper against his mouth every time he makes a move to deepen. the kiss is long, it allows nikki to feel his own taste in your mouth. when he pulls away, you lay your head on his chest.

the tip of your nose rubs against his neck, smelling a soft scent of men's cologne that comforts you and turns you on even more.

“— love you so much, my baby” — he says docilely as his fingertips run from your thighs to your crotch. “— did so good for me”

nikki's simple validation can make you groan, pleased with yourself for taking away his bad mood. “— love you more.." — you say as you lift your head to look at him, your noses touching.

your next kiss is still slow, but not like the other. it's wet, almost sloppy and you both can feel that sexual tension burning through your skin. you moan against his lips when you feel the tip of his finger passing between your legs, caressing your pussy through the fabrics.

“— needing some attention, right, princess?”

he feels your head bump against his shoulder as his hand runs down your pants. fuck, you're going to make a huge mess before this show even starts.

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bluemari23 · 4 months

Text

main masterlist

this is going to be my main masterlist where everything is going to be organized☺️

I write for whichever member I choose to. this is my blog and I reserve the right to write whatever I wish.

IMAGINES

SEVENTEEN

8:32 | choi seungcheol

where you feel insecure during a cuddly morning with your boyfriend

lemon tart | choi seungcheol

a new cafe for a much needed date brings out tons of giggles and plenty of kisses

soul glow | choi seungcheol

you attended your first concert, waiting a long time to see your ult group perform. unable to recognize a soul bond taking place, you leave early, leaving seungcheol to scramble to find you.

soul haze || choi seungcheol

soul glow pt.2

you had just gotten home after leaving the seventeen concert early, only for your phone to start ringing with what you think is the biggest joke of the century. it turns out, that maybe you left too early.

anything for you | choi seungcheol

where he can tell your feelings are becoming too much again and he decides to keep you with him for the day

new _world || choi seungcheol

the night of your 18th birthday left nothing to be desired; waking up to no hint of any soul bond left you one of the unbonded. almost eight years later, however, you find out that you are very much not unbonded, and that your soulmate is someone who you admire. very much.

darl+ing you || choi seungcheol

new _world pt 2

You were on your way to South Korea, leaving your life behind to follow your soulmate back home. Your anxiety runs amok, and Seungcheol tries his best to get to know you better.

don't wanna cry || choi seungcheol

you had been ignored and neglected again, on the night of your soul bond anniversary. you were tired and felt defeated. and it took just that for your soulmate to snap out of his funk and remind you of why you were soulmates.

BTS

muscle tension | park jimin

you feel a little stressed after a family visit and your husband helps relieve some tension

cake cake cake | jeon jungkook

your boyfriend eats the cake for a party and thinks he can get away with it

hey soulmate | min yoongi

your first day on the job doesn’t turn out the exact way you envisioned

inspiration | min yoongi

you had been called to your soulmates studio for "inspiration" and walked into an unexpected but not unwelcomed situation

remember our touch || bangtan

you try to push away your bad memories and your soulmates help you replace them with good ones.

ATEEZ

warm and soft | kim hongjoong

your soulmate knows exactly what to do when he can tell your stuck in your head, needing to just feel him against you.

dancing like butterfly wings || park seonghwa

you’ve been feeling a little down lately as you experience another flare up, and not wanting to feel like a burden, you try to to hide it from your soulmate.

festival love || kim hongjoong

you wait patiently for your soulmate to finish his practice rehearsal for the famous festival so you can go spend the day together before his performance. Things don’t necessarily go as planned but everything turns out alright in the end.

dazzling light || kim hongjoong

your soul bond activates at a concert and you seriously doubt your actually going to be able to meet them, not when they are on the stage and more than likely can't see the soul light that surrounds you.

HEADCANONS

BOYFRIEND BTS

bts and how they would kiss their s/o

bts and the place they like to kiss you the most

bts and how they would react to being jealous

bts and how they would react to their s/o being shy with other people

bts members and how they would react to their foreign s/o being the 8th member of bts (poly)

bts members and how they would react to their non-idol s/o (poly)

bts and how they would react to their s/o falling asleep in their lap

bts and how they react to their s/o's natural hourglass figure

bts and how they react to their small/petite s/o

bts and how they would ask you out after you've been friends for a while

bts and how they would react to their girlfriend trying to hide their pots flare up

bts and how they react to your niece/nephew saying their name

bts members and how they would love their plus-size s/o

bts when their independent soulmate suddenly wants to be babied

hybrid!bts when they are clingy with their mate

bts: sacrifice you or the world

BOYFRIEND SEVENTEEN

bf!seungcheol and how he loves his plus-size s/o

These works nor any part of their content may be republished, reproduced, translated or used in any manner without the express permission of purpleyoonn. These are works of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

#bluemari23 #masterlist #main masterlist #oneshots #imagines

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inkwolvesandcoffee · 2 months

Text

First Times (Poly Relationship w/ John & Ghost Headcanons)

I spent the morning exploring Hackney, which is rich in breweries. While wandering about, I got to thinking, what if…

John starts working at a brewery when he retires from the army?

OR!

He starts a micro brewery/pub with Simon, who retires around the same time.

🍺 The two men set to work immediately to acquire the proper licenses and a premise. Fortunately for the both of them, they’re quite handy and so know how to create a lovely, albeit very manly, space without too much interference from contractors. After all, why hire others for work you can do yourself?

🍺 Honestly, the business is a dream come true for John. Owning a micro brewery was his Plan B should things not work out with the army. However, it’s because of his former employment, he’s become a better business owner. It’s through the development of his leadership and risk-assessment skills he managed to secure the rank of captain.

🍺 For Simon, the brewery is an unexpected ambition, a new dream to follow. While he lets John do most of the marketing (because Simon can’t be arsed with social media… being social in general), he’s mostly pre-occupied with the creation of new and improvement of the already existing craft beers.

🍺 The business steadily grows as word gets about town. Soon, it’s not only the local Hackney residents who pop by, but also people from other boroughs.

🍺 Including you.

🍺 Come from Inner London, the people of the area find you somewhat of a posh puppy, a bit of a toff. It’s this view of you which makes them wonder what on Earth you’re doing in East London, this artsy and not as affluent part of the city.

🍺 Nevertheless, you’re a sight for sore eyes if you ask Simon, who’s your old neighbour back from the few years you lived in Manchester after moving there with your parents.

🍺 Though gruff and distant in the beginning, Simon gradually warmed up to you. Despite never opening up emotionally, you two did develop a strong amiable bond. Maybe because you were the only one to greet him on the street, to ask about his career after catching a glimpse of the dog tag around his neck, to welcome him back each time he was deployed.

🍺 To show sincere interest in him.

🍺 Your parents weren’t a fan of you socializing with the giant in the skull balaclava, but they never told you off for it since you two always seemed to have a good time. Moreover, they rarely saw you smile unless you were with him. So they let it slide, prioritizing your happiness over their prejudice.

🍺 It was only in the spring before you moved without telling him where to and he was deployed yet again, Simon realized he had feelings for you. Nonetheless, he put them aside or, rather, suppressed them until they numbed. He had nothing to offer, fifteen years your elder and terribly haunted.

🍺 So imagine his surprise and absolute delight when you stand in front of him, prettier than he can remember. “Been a while, hasn’t it?”

🍺 “Y/N,” it’s the only thing he can say, finally out loud after years of uttering it in silence.

🍺 “Who’s this fair lady?” John slides up next to Simon, arms crossed as he takes you in. His sea blue eyes darken when they meet yours. “How can we help, miss?”

🍺 The way he practically purrs the words sends a pleasant shiver down your spine. Yet, you conceal the effect he has on you behind a steady voice. “I saw the notice on the window, about the open position. Has it been filled in the meanwhile or can I still apply?”

🍺 “She’s a good one, John. Hardworking, trustworthy, kind. Fast learner too,” Simon says pensively.

🍺 “Got experience in the field?” John asks.

🍺 “Studied psychology, during which I mostly focused on the effect of marketing on the human psyche. Also run a food blog and Instagram”

🍺 “Thank Simon properly before you leave. I trust his judgment and seeing he knows you best, I’ll take his word for it.” He slaps his business partner on the shoulder. “Drop by tomorrow and we’ll discuss your contract. I’m looking forward to working with you…”

🍺 “Y/N.”

🍺 “Y/N...” John repeats thoughtfully. Then he hums and heads off.

🍺 Thus begins a series of firsts and connections as you settle down in Hackney.

🍺 Over the course of a few weeks, the locals come to see you as one of their own as you show them you simply aren’t some girl with rich parents, a spoiled princess, but a young woman trying to make a life for herself with her own hard-earned money via helping at the counter and striking up conversations.

🍺 John and you grow closer too. He admires and respects your eye for detail and aesthetics, though sometimes he feels a little awkward when you’re trying to direct him for the occasional TikTok. Nevertheless, it’s your creativity that keeps drawing him in, igniting the need to keep getting closer to you. What also helps is you bringing him coffee or reminding him to take breaks (both with a kiss on the cheek later down the line).

🍺 Loves to review the content you create together, especially when you’re in his lap while doing so.

🍺 On your mutual days off, John drags you all over London to visit bakeries and cafés. Never had you thought him a foodie, though it’s a pleasant discovery since there’s always something new to experience on the food scene. Moreover, he loves helping you out with your own blog, not just the one you created for the brewery.

🍺 These days, you’re teaching him photography and are taking baking classes together. Although, you might as well go on your own to the latter because he’s a terrible baker (unlike Simon, who’s self-taught and surprisingly good, like, sale-appropriate why-doesn’t-he-have-at-least-a-micro-bakery good).

🍺 Your bond with Simon mostly rekindles via being his guinea pig. He knows how brutally honest you can be in your feedback, which he thoroughly appreciates. Outside work, the two of you frequent bookshops, have picnics in the major parks in London, and visit the city’s oldest cemeteries. The latter is a bit of a morbid idea of a nice outing, but you appreciate the silence and romantic sense of decay in the air.

🍺 It isn’t long before you take up residence in the apartment the two men share, which leaves the other residents of the building wondering about your relationships to one another. Although, they can guess at the nature of it seeing the “noise” at night. As I said, lots of first including a relationship with two men older than you.

🍺 But aside from the plethora of sensual moments, there are also plenty of tender (and domestic) firsts. For example, Simon accompanies you to your first tattoo appointment. When, the next day, you’re struck by tattoo flu, he takes care of you. Of course John doesn’t force you to come to work nor Simon for that matter, who you clearly need at the moment (despite claiming otherwise). Henceforth, you’re both granted PTO until you’re back on your feet.

🍺 Speaking of the former-captain, John is your very first kiss. You and him went out for pizza (Simon preferring to stay home and read). On the way to Hackney Wick, beneath a bridge heavily decorated with graffiti and sheltering a few barges, he put his hands on your cheeks and crashed his lips into yours. He tasted of tobacco and white wine, laced with the sweetness of tomatoes and basil. That night, he made love to you.

🍺 Another first.

🍺 Simon prepared breakfast the next morning, serving food to ensure John and you wouldn’t succumb to exhaustion later in the day. Nor him, for that matter, because while he doesn’t get jealous and loves sharing you with his best friend, he sometimes wishes you wouldn’t go at it till early in the morning when the next day is an ordinary work day.

🍺 You’re there for them when either of them suffers from night terrors or combat stress. Simon is more prone to the former, whereas John is to the latter.

🍺 You accompany Simon to therapy too after he’s been diagnosed with PTSD. At first he didn’t want to go, refused it even, until he finally relented after another episode of flashbacks and coming to his senses while shaking in your arms.

🍺 Life with John and Simon isn’t always easy nor romantic.

🍺 But bloody hell, do they make it better.

#CoD #CoD x Reader #John Price #Ghost x Reader #Simon Riley #John Price x Reader #Simon Riley x Reader #Simon Ghost Riley #Captain John Price #Captain Jonathan Price #Captain John Price x Reader #Ghost CoD #CoD MW Ghost

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pedrito-friskito · 1 year

Text

strawberry wine - joel miller x fem!reader

before - part one

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3

it’s summer in austin, and you and joel meet for the first time.

a/n: the joel miller brain rot is real and your advocate is here to help! masterlist will be up shortly, special thank yous and shout outs to @psychedelic-ink @allfoolsinluv and @gnollengrom for letting me scream about this fic in your dms 🤍 I have thought of little else for the last 48 hours

word count: 3.4k

warnings: MY BLOG IS 18+, MINORS DNI - this part is not explicit but other parts will be, masterlist has further warnings, but no real warnings for this part except a lot of fluff?? and banter?? and I’m obsessed kthanksbyeeeee

✨I no longer have a taglist - if you’d like to be notified of new works/chapters, follow @friskito-library and turn notifications on!✨

You meet Joel Miller long before the world implodes.

It’s 2001, you’re fresh out of college, relocated to Austin, Texas where your parents have taken over an old hardware store that once belonged to your grandfather. Nowhere else to go and nothing else to do for the time being, you spend most of your time in the store, stocking shelves and chatting with customers, learning the different things the store keeps on hand, what has to be shipped in special order. It’s not much, but it’s something to do; you’re just happy to be back with your family after four long years at college. Sure, you came home for holidays when you could, but it wasn’t the same.

It still isn’t the same, not really.

The house you live in is foreign to you, not the same roof you grew up under. The people are the same, your parents clearly happy to have you back, your little sister overjoyed to have someone in her corner again. Austin is nice, the weather warmer than you’re used to after four years in Michigan, but it’s a welcome change. Summer seems to go on forever, and your weekends are spent basking in the sun, finding new places to explore, wandering the shops that neighbour the hardware store and beyond.

And then one day, everything changes.

You’re stood at the end of one of the aisles, fixing a stubborn display of plaster tubs that won’t stay upright, when you hear the bells over the door chime, announcing the arrival of a customer. You don’t stray far from the display, calling out a good morning! and returning to your work. Your sister is perched behind the register, flipping through an old magazine, and you hear the tell-tale squeak of work boots on the linoleum, the sound now all too familiar to your ears.

The boots move in your direction, but you pay the sound little mind until it grows closer. Most people who come into the store know what they’re looking for, and your parents had been careful to keep everything in the same aisles and shelves they’d been on for the past decade, so as to not disrupt the regular customers. From the corner of your eye, scuffed, dark boots step a little closer, and your eyes drag over from the display, taking in the man before you.

You try really hard not to let your eyes linger everywhere, but it’s hard. He’s…well, he’s hot. Dark hair, dark eyes, patchy facial hair that really shouldn’t work as well as it does. Long legs covered in dark jeans, a t-shirt that’s definitely seen better days and is straining against his broad shoulders and thick arms. It’s a classic look you’ve come to associate with every guy who works construction in Austin, but right off the bat, you know there’s something different about this one.

“Hi there,” he says, his southern drawl not as intense as some other folks you’ve talked to, but still there, coupled with a little quirk to his lips, an almost-smile that makes you instantly desperate to see the full thing.

“Hi,” you breathe out, curling your fingers around the metal shelving in front of you, abandoning the plaster display.

“I’m lookin’ for a quarter-inch drill bit,” he spits, nearly stuttering the request out. You’re stuck still for a moment, absolutely enamoured by the man before you. And it makes your own lips twitch, the way his cheeks flare red and he drops his gaze after a moment, rubs a hand over the back of his neck. “I’m also assuming you work here but I now realize you don’t have a name tag or anything so I’ll just—”

You clap a hand over your chest dramatically. “Shoot. Must have left the stupid thing in the back.” He lifts his head, eyes going wide, the almost-smile returning. “Follow me.”

He follows you like a little lost puppy a few aisles down from where you were standing. He’s taller than you, by nearly a head, those broad shoulders almost blocking out the harsh fluorescent lights overhead. You may or may not let your hips swing a little harder as you walk.

“Any specific brand you’re looking for?” you ask over your shoulder, coming to a stop in front of the pegboard that holds bits of all sorts of sizes. “Or just a quarter-inch?”

“As long as it fits in my drill,” he answers, and you turn to the board, scanning for the right size. You can feel his eyes lingering on you, and you’re basking in it. When you find the right one, you pluck it off the hook and hand it to him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you say, shoving your hands in the back pockets of your jeans after he takes it from you. “If it doesn’t fit, just bring it back and I’ll make sure you get the right one.”

The corner of his mouth twitches and he looks between you and the little package a few times, tapping it against the flat of his palm. His lips part, like he’s about to say something, but then your sister calls your name and your head snaps up.

“Come on up to the front when you’re ready,” you say, feeling a little bold and touching his arm as you step past him, “and I’ll cash you out.”

He watches you walk away, too.

“I need coffee,” your sister declares as soon as you’re within view of the front counter. “You want anything?”

“Nah, I’m good,” you reply, stepping behind the register, righting a cup of pens that’s fallen over. She slips down from the stool, flipping her magazine shut, and brushes past you, just as a now familiar deep voice reaches your ears.

“Thanks again,” tall, dark, and handsome says, approaching the counter with the drill bit and a tub of plaster from the display you’d been fixing in his hands. Your sister steps around him as he walks up, and turns to look at you over his shoulder, her jaw dropped, giving you two thumbs up. Your cheeks flare with heat, but you ignore it, taking the bit and the plaster when he sees them on the counter. “Are you new here?” he asks, and then rubs his hand up the back of his head, turning sheepish again. “Here being Austin, I mean. Haven’t seen you around before.”

You can’t help but grin back at him. “New-ish. Moved back at the beginning of the summer after I finished college. My parents took over this place after my grandfather died, and I can’t afford rent in the city, so here I am.” You ring up his purchase, tell him his total, and he fishes for his wallet, digging in the front pocket of his jeans. “For now, anyway.”

He presses his lips together as he pulls a twenty out of his wallet and hands it to you. “Maybe I’ll see you around again sometime.”

You punch in the right amount, letting the register drawer hit your hip as it shoots open. “Maybe you will.” You hand him his change, and as you press the bills and coins into his waiting hand, you offer your name with it.

“Joel,” he says by way of answer, and your chest puffs a little with the knowledge. “Miller. Joel Miller.”

Your grin widens. “Well, you have yourself a good day, Joel Miller. Hope I see you soon.”

He takes the bit and the plaster and takes a step backwards, walking directly into a display stand holding rolls of bright green and blue painters tape, sending it toppling to the floor. “Ah, shit, I’m sorry,” he grumbles, and you step around the counter, dropping to your knees, catching the tape as it rolls in a million different directions.

“Don’t worry about it,” you tell him earnestly, righting the stand and getting back to your feet. “Now I have something to do.”

“You sure?” he asks, straightening, his cheeks burning red. “I’m sorry, again.”

“Don’t worry about it, again,” you laugh, gesturing towards the front door. “I’ll see you, Joel.”

“See you,” he replies, tacking your name onto the end, and you have to ignore the way the sound of your name on his lips sends a prickle up the back of your neck.

You watch as he walks out the door, the bell ringing again as he departs, getting into a pick-up truck that has definitely seen better days parked at the curb. He scrubs a hand over his face as he starts the engine, and then turns and looks at you through the glass, lifting a hand in a wave before he pulls away from the store. You lift your hand to return the farewell, and your sister walks through the door a moment later, two coffees in her hands, pushing one into your grip even though you said you didn’t want one. You sip it anyway.

“Who was that?” she asks, bumping her hip into yours.

“Joel Miller.”

He comes into the store nearly every day for a week. Always looking for something new, another drill bit or packages of nails and screws, a hammer, rolls of tape. He’s a carpenter, you learn, and goes bright red when you hint that must mean he’s good with his hands.

Your conversations are always brief, but sweet. He asks what you went to school for, admits he never got past a high school education, laughs when you tell him he seems to be doing pretty well for himself despite that. He shows up one morning with coffees for both you and your sister, and a box of doughnuts, earning a squeal from your sister and a bright thanks Joel from yourself. One afternoon, he’s in a hurry, having run out of drywall screws, cursing that he left his wallet at the job site, and you wave him off, all but pushing him out the door with a new box.

Then Monday rolls around, and you find yourself watching the door, waiting for the bell to signal his arrival. Every time the bell does ring, you jump, stepping out of whatever aisle you’re in, checking to see who’s walked inside.

“I’m sure he’ll come by tomorrow,” your sister says when the clock hits two and there’s still no sign of him. “He’s probably just busy.”

“I know,” you say, brushing it off best you can.

The rest of the day passes like molasses, the minutes ticking by so slow you’re half sure the clock on the wall is broken. You even go so far as to check the batteries, earning a laugh from your sister. You curse yourself for flinching every time the door opens, doubly so when your father arrives to take over for the evening and you jump so hard you drop the stack of sandpaper boxes in your hands. “Sorry, honey,” he laughs, helping you pick up the boxes. “Long day?”

“Something like that,” you reply, putting the sandpaper on the right shelf before heading for the counter to grab your bag. “See you at home!”

Your father waves without looking, but calls your name before you can walk out the door. “Someone’s at the house, just so you know. Your mother’s home, of course, but I hired a guy to look at the back porch, asked him to fix the light in the hallway too.”

“Shouldn’t you be able to fix that yourself,” you joke with a smile, “since you own a hardware store and all?”

He just waves you off. “Get outta here.”

You laugh, pushing the door open, the bells jingling above your head as you step through. It’s just before dinner time, the sun starting to hang a little lower in the sky. The inside of your car feels like a sauna when you slide into the driver’s seat, and you blast the air conditioning, turning up the radio loud enough you can hear it over the noise. It’s a quick drive from the store to your house, and you’re too distracted by the song that’s playing on the radio to notice the rusty pick-up parked at the curb.

If it makes you happy, it can’t be that bad.

Your mother is sitting in the kitchen when you walk through the door, calling her hellos, and you dump your keys and bag before bee-lining for the bathroom. The house is all one level, one bathroom shared between the four of you, and you flick on the light, turn on the shower, strip down quickly. The warm water is a balm for the long day, the tension that had been sitting between your shoulders melting away beneath the spray.

You wrap yourself in a towel afterward, collecting your clothes from the floor before flicking the light off again. You’re still humming the song from the radio as you open the door, wiping a drop of water from your cheek and—

“Joel?”

“Shit!” he mumbles, dropping the screwdriver in his hand. He’s standing right outside the bathroom, balanced on a step-stool. Fixing the light; you remember what your father had said. You’re instantly flushed, starkly aware of the fact that you’re basically naked except for a towel, dripping water and your underwear is basically dangling from your hand. “I’m sor—fuck!” The stool wobbles and out of instinct, you grab for him, planting your hand on his stomach. He’s reaching over his head still, and the bottom of your hand meets bare skin, his t-shirt riding up slightly.

“You good?” you ask, pressing your lips together as he balances himself. You move your hand, carefully bending your knees and picking up the screwdriver from where it landed on the floor. “Here.”

“Thank you,” he says softly, taking it from you, jaw working as he chews the inside of his lip. His cheeks are as red as your whole body feels. “Sorry, I’m—”

“I should go!” you say quickly, and side-step him, bolting out of the bathroom doorway and straight into your bedroom, the door slamming shut behind you. Your clothes tumble to the ground as soon as you’re inside, clapping a hand over your mouth as the towel nearly slips off of you. “Oh my god.”

You open the store by yourself the next day, your sister claiming she has the flu, your father with a golf game he can’t miss, and your mother with ‘far too many things to do around the house’. You don’t mind it; it’s usually quiet in the mornings, with the exception of the week of Joel, where he’d shown up at nine o’clock nearly on the dot each day.

Once your father got home last night, you’d all but interrogated him. Turns out, Joel had stopped by the store late the night before, walking in just before closing, and he and your dad got to talking. When the subject of the creaky back porch and the broken hallway light came up, Joel had offered his services, and your father had accepted.

A minute after you’ve flipped the sign from closed to open and unlocked the door, a now-familiar pick-up truck pulls up to the parking spot outside the curb. You inhale sharply, nerves and embarrassment in your gut, and you turn away from the door, heading towards the counter, you back to the door as it jingles open.

Joel Miller calls your name. You nearly freeze, but continue your steps until you’re safely behind the counter. You hear his boots squeak on the floor as he approaches, but you can’t bring yourself to lift your head until he’s standing right in front of you, saying your name again.

“Morning, Joel.”

“About yesterday,” he says instantly, a hand reached into the space between you, landing in a loose fist on the countertop. “I had no idea that you were—that it would—” He blows out a breath, ducking his head before meeting your eyes. “I’m sorry, is what I’m tryin’ to say.”

“Y’know, I usually make a man buy me dinner before he sees me half-naked,” you say, the line rolling off your tongue before you can stop yourself. Joel balks, and you clap a hand over your mouth, nervous giggles pouring out of you. “Oh my god, that was cheesy, I’m sorry. And it’s okay, for the record. I should have checked the hallway before I walked out.”

He laughs, you laugh, and the idea sparks in your mind. Your hands move of their own accord, reaching for a pen and a scrap of receipt paper. You scribble out your phone number, accompanied by a little smiley face after the last digit.

“Here,” you say, pushing the paper across the counter, nudging his hand with your own. “Why don’t you take this, and maybe we can see each other someplace besides the paint aisle or outside my bathroom.” When he doesn’t answer right away, that sick feeling of rejection crawls up your throat, and you nearly snatch the paper back. “Or we could just pretend it never happened.”

“Can’t do that,” he murmurs, and his voice is so low and inviting you can’t help but lean across the counter slightly. His eyes dart to the clock on the wall and he curses under his breath. “Shit, I’m gonna be late.” He grabs the paper, folding it up and tucking it into the pocket on his t-shirt. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Okay,” you reply, nodding, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as he touches his hand to yours, fingers glancing over your wrist before he pulls away. He steps backward again, eyes not leaving yours. Thankfully there’s no display in his path for him to topple over, but he only looks away when he reaches the door, that almost-smile you’ve been chasing since the first day you met spreading into a full-blown grin that sends butterflies shooting through your stomach. “Bye, Joel.”

“Bye,” he replies, your name a near-whisper afterward.

As soon as the door shuts, the tinkle of bells echoing, you slump across the counter with a squeal. The bells ding again a second later, and you shoot upright, schooling your face into a normal-looking smile and greeting the customer that’s just walked through the door.

It’s nearly ten o’clock that night, when your phone rings.

You’re lounging in bed, a book propped against your knees, Sheryl Crowe crooning out of your stereo. The robotic ring makes you jump, and you hit the answer button quickly, lifting the phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Sorry, I know it’s late,” Joel says, and you smile, sinking deeper into the pillows. “Had a long day, and I almost didn’t call, but I really wanted to.”

“I’m glad you did,” you reply, letting the book fall shut on your lap. “What made your day so long?”

It’s easy conversation, the two of you chatting for a good hour. He talks about the job site he’s been working at, his brother that works with him, how his truck nearly broke down when he went to leave, making him late to get home. The call only comes to an end when you’re both making each other yawn, mumbling apologies every time.

“I should let you get some sleep,” Joel nearly whispers, his voice so soft through the phone you barely hear it. “Didn’t mean to keep you up so late.”

“I’m sure you can make it up to me,” you quip, rolling onto your side, keeping the phone pressed to your ear. “But I like talking to you, just for the record.”

“I like talking to you, too,” he replies, and you can hear the grin in his voice. “Just for the record.”

“Are you making fun of me?” you ask, faking shock. He laughs.

“Nah, I just like the way you talk, darlin’,” he says, and the pet name makes you shiver. “I’ll let you go.”

“You didn’t ask,” you say quickly, and he pauses, dead air on the line for a moment.

“What?”

“I said you could make it up to me,” you tell him, rolling onto your back, glancing out the window at the moon, big and white in the dark sky. “That was your opening to ask me out.”

Another pause, and you’re holding your breath, chewing your lip.

“Have dinner with me on Friday?”

You hum, beaming into the phone. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Joel barks a laugh, the biggest one you’ve gotten out of him yet, and you smile harder. “You’re trouble.”

“You’re the one having dinner with me,” you shoot back, and he laughs again, softer this time. “Goodnight, Joel.”

You can tell he’s still smiling. “Goodnight.”

#my fics #strawberry wine #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #the last of us #the last of us fic #the last of us spoilers

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woso-lover234 · 16 days

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Hello, I’ve recently discovered your blog and I love your writing! Your fluff is so good!

I was wondering if you were willing to write arsenal / alessia russo x (platonic)reader?

Where reader is new to the team and the youngest (maybe 15-16) and is very shy and quiet but she feels very safe and calm around Alessia so she tends to stand or sit around her but since she’s new she is scared alessia doesn’t appreciate her being around so much and the older girls like Leah, Katie, Beth realize that and so they talk with alessia about it only to realize Alessia thinks it’s adorable that reader finds comfort in being around her so from now on Alessia will purposely stand next to reader during training and just give her hugs and encourage her which helps reader’s confidence and they see her start to come out of her shell and Alessia ends up as reader’s mother figure

I know this was kinda long so if you don’t want to write it, it’s totally okay! Have a nice day <3

Alessia Russo x (platonic) reader- physical touch

You weren't new persay but you were new to the senior team having only played with Arsenal academy since you were 10 and climbing the ranks and now at 15 (almost 16) you had been invited to join the senior team for trainings and hopefully if Jonas thought you were doing well enough get some game time. It was really scary for you to move up and it showed considering you weren't really a shy person but for some reason ever since joining the team you had sunk back into your shell but meeting, playing and training with your idols does that to a girl. The people you were playing with now were professionals and some of them a decade older than you which means you had to start taking it seriously which meant no time for mucking around. You didn't know anyone aswell which made the transfer from academy soccer to professional soccer so much harder for you knowing you were leaving behind some of the girls you had climbed the ranks with at the academy and though they said they were excited for you you couldn't help but feel left out in this new team.

Someone who you had taken a liking to was Alessia Russo who had just transferred from Manchester United around the time you made your move up and through you didn't know her well you thought she was a calming presence and always seemed to help when you were feeling anxious even if she didn't know it, just her presence made you feel safe and relaxed. Due to this you often found yourself sitting at the same table as Alessia for lunch though you made sure to not be directly next to her so she didn't think you were following her or trying to force something on her but you sat close enough that you could feel the calm aura she brought. You also stood near her in the line for drills as she encouraged you when you completed them while also giving you little bits of feedback for you to improve on. When it came to game days you often walked out with her and Kyra as you had become a bit close with the younger Australian who had also transferred around the time you came up and often used her as an excuse to walk with Alessia as she calmed you before a match. You understood why Kyra walked out with her now.

The team had started to notice your liking of being around the striker and some of them like Katie, Kyra and Beth had started calling you her shadow. That made you back off, scared you had overstepped the boundaries and that Alessia might think you were weird. Alessia however liked having you around and she found the fact you liked being around her but not making it painfully obvious and she would be glad to take you under her wing as an upcoming striker.

"Hey less" Katie called out across the training pitch and alexia turned to her "where's your little shadow gone?" she asked and alessia furrowed her eyebrows. You had been more distant with alessia in hopes of not coming across to the girls as clingy or obsessive but alessia genuinely didn’t mind and enjoyed your company as much as you enjoyed hers but she had never had to go to you to get that as you always came to her so she hadn’t expressed that she liked being around you and mentoring you.

“I don’t know she’s been a bit closed off from me recently” alessia sighed and Katie gave her a sad look as Leah and Beth came over seeing alessia look a little down

“What’s up with you?” Beth asked as she made it next to the blonde striker and nudged her shoulder with hers

“Y/n” she sighed as the other players shared a look they had been waiting to have this conversation with alessia but you were always round her so it was hard for them to do it without upsetting you. They had to make sure alessia was ok with you constantly following her and wanting to be around her and by alessia reaction it seemed she did as she looked genuinely heartbroken you hadn’t come near her today

“It’s ok less I think the comments people were making scared her a bit because she realised she wasn’t as sneaky as she thought she was” Leah said comfortingly as she placed a hand on alessias shoulder

“yeah sorry about all the comments I’ll tone it down” Katie said apologetically as alessia finally cracked a smile

A bit later during training everyone was instructed to get a partner and you were shocked to see that alessia had come up to you.

“Hey y/n/n can I be your partner?” She asked as you nodded shyly “cmon then” she said as she took your hand and led you further onto the field to get started. It felt like a weight was lifted off of you and you were no longer suffering the feeling that you had been to much to fast for alessia as she now initiated coming close to you which proved she actually did like being around you. Everyone noticed the big smile on your face throughout training and couldn’t help but smile too knowing the kid of the team had found her mother figure and that now nothing would separate the two of you unless it was Kyra forcing her way into alessias and your personal space for the pitch inspection which you didn’t mind.

Once you’d finally found your footing in the team you started coming out of your shell and hanging around with Kyra more and alessia less considering you had moved in with the blonde and spent a lot of time together at home watching movies and shows. You and Kyra had gained the annoying little sister tag for your constant need to annoy your team mates and designated team mums aswell as pulling pranks to keep the girls on their toes but they wouldn’t have it any other way.

#alessia russo #woso imagine #woso #kyra cooney cross #woso fanfics #leah williamson #beth mead #katie mccabe #arsenal wfc #arsenal

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teatreeoilll · 4 months

Text

|| Temptation (Satoru Gojo X Reader) ||

(Reposted from my old blog which I don't have access to anymore (thanks Tumblr), if you liked it reblogs or likes would be appreciated to get me back on track since I've lost all my followers and half my work :(

While hoping to be reinstated in the Jujutsu world, you meet with the teacher you had a crush on in your school days.

I wrote this while drunk, I think that says it all.

Image credits to user blueparadis.

"Why'd you call me Sensei?" Gojo chuckled, his long fingers reaching his blindfold, holding it up to let one eye peek from under it. You take a seat across from him. "I was only your teacher for a year, and that was ages ago."

He was right, of course, but the air of his office and the familiar smell of the chrysanthemum bushes outside the window had brought back too many memories of your last year at Jujutsu High; your mind had no trouble flashing the images of late nights and talks with your then best friends.

2009

"I think I might fail this year," you'd laugh, covering your mouth with your hand, thinking it would hush your uncalled-for remarks you'd whisper in the middle of training sessions, "I mean what is he, a few years older than us?"

On weekend nights, the few students in your grade would gather in one of the rooms, trying to muffle the 'tsssk' sound the opening of the drinks they managed to smuggle for these occasions would produce. At most of these gatherings, the tougher subjects would be tactfully avoided, no talk about missions and curses, or mentions of horrible past incidents were allowed.

There wasn't much left to chat about after the rules were unanimously established, and so most nights your classmates would group together laughing at the feelings you've managed to develop for your new teacher. The running joke had always made your cheeks flush red. "Oh, Gojo-Sensei, your eyes are so blue!" A boy from your class would make a lousy impression of your voice that would always elicit laughter from the group, "Oh, Gojo-Sensei, could you tutor me?"

Even at that age, you liked to think that no one apart from your friends could observe the crush you've steadily developed. However, especially when hearing your whispers, your teacher had always felt that was an insult to his self-proclaimed skills of deduction. Gojo would make sure to pause his enthusiastic explanations to put a large hand on your shoulder just to watch you blush, and your classmates giggle. He was far too determined to take advantage of each lesson to bask in the feeling of your attentive gaze.

present day

"I'm sorry," you mutter, "Old habits." His limbs are sprawled on the shiny leather of the chair as he talks ; "Are you thinking of returning to the Jujutsu world? If so, I think there are more suitable people to talk to." He noticed your gaze shifting downwards, he didn't mean any harm with his words, but you couldn't help but feel unwanted in the room.

"I'm sorry to be a bother, I just thought that -" "Ah, I'm sorry. You probably just came to visit your old Sensei you used to crush on." He snickers. Getting up from his seat, he walks around the large desk, just to put a hand on your shoulder the way he remembered would make you blush. "What? I -," You struggle to find the words, your gaze still fixed on your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your dress. "I - I never had a crush on you."

Your words seemed to him as a personal challenge. The determination to make you admit it excited every cell in his body as he kneeled before you, the grin widening on his face when he grabbed your fidgeting hand to hold gently, the sudden touch making you raise your eyes to glance at him.

He hardly changed, you thought, his mannerisms still as shameless as they were back then, his touch still making your stomach flutter. "Nothing to be ashamed about," He declares, "It was your last year, and this young, attractive man comes in -" "Gojo Se-" you stop yourself from saying the word that so easily excited him to go down this path, "Gojo, I'm really only here to talk my reinstatement."

His thumb moves slightly over the back of your hand, the walls of the room closed in on you when the heat from his hand runs straight to your head. "Sure," He lets out another small chuckle before putting on a serious expression, "Just as soon as you'll admit it."

He watches your brows furrow. "I see you've learned nothing. The first rule of Jujutsu is that honesty makes you more powerful," The snarky comment makes you cross your arms. You yank your hand back, and the chair scratches the floor under you when you get up.

"That's childish," You inhale a sharp breath, but his immaturity, as most spiteful characteristics, rubs off on you. "Might you be so stubborn because you're the one who had a crush on me?" You spew, stunned at your own unsophisticated comment.

"Who says I didn't?" He gets up from his knee to face you once again, his unwavering enthusiasm makes it hard to control your pent-up urge to both pull him to you, and shove him away. Huh?

"Never mind that," He suddenly says.

"What do you mean, never mind that?" You cock your head to the side, confused at the sudden change of heart he displayed. "I don't need you to admit it anymore," You watch the corners of his mouth twitch lightly before widening back to a broad grin, "You already did, little tomato."

Your hands shot up to feel your own cheeks, the heat radiating to the palms of your hands. You were sure you looked like you'd just run a marathon. "Alright, little tomato, you can ask about the other things now," He smiles, leaning back on his desk. A thought crosses your head that even Alexander the Great didn't beam like that when bringing the Persian Empire to its knees.

"Don't call me that," you protest. With each response he'd evoke from you, he'd find himself more captivated, seizing the moment to push himself off of the desk only to stand closer to you. "Why not, little tomato?" He'd found himself too fond of the new nickname, his face so close to yours you couldn't ignore it if you tried. His blindfold sat peacefully at the crook of his neck, his hair splayed on his forehead, eyes agonizing to look at; looking half at you and half through you.

The childish-like oblivious manner of your feelings had disappeared as soon as his lips brushed on yours, the pit of your stomach spinning and swirling at the fantasies you thought you'd left behind years ago. He snorted a little when you pressed your lips against his, his hands impulsively gripping your thighs.

He groans between the kisses; "I really see I've taught you nothing, little tomato," He murmured, "The second rule is never letting your opponent know he's got the upper hand."

#jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x y/n #satoru gojo X reader #satoru gojo #satoru x you

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nptnewr · 11 months

Text

The Dog Days are Over

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Reader Soulmate AU

Chapter 1:

a/n: this is my first-ever series! special thank you to my friend @fixfoxnox for encouraging me to finally write what I want! another special thank you to @hioreh and @vlkyriesgf my two best friends who’ve helped me!

Reminder: I do not give permission for my work to be translated or reposted here or on any other site, even if you give me credit. Reblogs, comments, and asks are encouraged! do not follow me unless you are 18+, all ageless or blank blogs will be blocked!

Pronouns Used: They/Them

Summary: It’s a short time off for task force 141 when Ghost bumps into you at your bookshop. It sends a spark through both of you, but Ghost quickly shrugs it off and leaves. However, when he gets back to base, ready to sleep before a new mission he feels a body next to him in bed. He immediately grabs a knife only to find out it’s you with wide eyes and a trembling body.

Word Count: 2.2k

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Typical COD MW2 Dialogue & Violence | Slow Burn | If I have missed any let me know!

The rain pours down from the clouds above while you make it to your bookstore to open for the day. It’s been raining for a week now, however, that’s not too uncommon for your shop’s location. Your umbrella barely kept the rain at bay while you made your way to the door of the bookstore. Making sure to shake out your umbrella, you tie it together before putting it on the coat rack by the door.

Looking beside the door, you turn on all of the lights to the store watching as the place lights up, coming to life before your eyes. You quickly turn your sign in front of the door from closed to open. When you begin walking to your desk at the side of the shop you notice two large boxes behind it. They must have come in during the weekend while you were out.

You take a box cutter from the top drawer of your desk, slowly cutting the middle of the first box. Pulling the cardboard apart, you can see the many books stacked inside the boxes. As you shuffle through the books you notice most of them are children’s books, but one catches your eye. It’s titled “How To Find Your Soulmate”, the book immediately made you laugh softly. Flipping the book over the description simply spoke about how to touch someone’s arm or leg discreetly. This caused a small smile from you as you place the book back.

Lots of people, including your friends, were ecstatic to find their soulmate. A person you were destined to be with for the rest of your life. You could find them in any part of your life, all it took was one touch. Someone that you touch on purpose or accidentally sends a spark down your body. After that spark, you suddenly gain a special ability. You and the person you touch, or your soulmate, can teleport to where each other is. The only downside to this is that the teleportation happens randomly and leads to some of the most embarrassing stories you’ve ever heard. You will never forget your friend's story of ending up next to the urinal of her soulmate.

Most of your friends have found their soulmates over the years. Some were random touches in the hallways at school or the shaking of the hand at a work meeting. However, there were rare times that someone purposely asks to touch someone else to see if they were soulmates. It’s quite a new occurrence and is seen as quite taboo for the elderly to experience. Usually, a person will hold their arm or wrist to the person they want to touch it.

You’ve always been curious about who your soulmate could be, but it’s never been a huge part of your life. Studying was a bigger part of your life than a love life ever was, not that you hadn’t had your flings or partners from time to time. By the time you were twenty-five, you had already established this bookstore by yourself. But, it’s not that you didn’t yearn for a soulmate, a life partner to lean on for comfort and love. You just trusted the process and certainly didn’t want to rush anything.

You look at the cardboard box in front of you, cracking your back slightly before picking it up. Walking through the different aisles in your bookstore, you make it to the children’s section. You begin picking up the smaller books from the box and placing them in their proper location. The box is about half empty when you hear the bell connected to the front door go off signaling the arrival of a customer.

“Be there in a moment!” You call from your place in the children’s section.

Placing the final book on the shelf, you walk towards the front of the store and see a tall person looking at the mystery section. Their stature made you take a step back to get his size into your vision fully. You note their clothing is all black, including a mask that covers their head, or at least most of it. You’ve never been someone who judges, but there’s no other reason someone wears all black including a mask unless they are here to rob you, right?

“Excuse me, can I help you?” You’re hands shake slightly as the person turns around to you.

You now see that the person, the man, in front of you has a balaclava with a design on it, something that looks like a skeleton’s mouth. The man grunts once, nodding his head at your question.

“Do you have any books you suggest? Lookin’ for a mystery novel.” The man’s voice is gruff and slightly muffled due to his balaclava.

“I have a favorite, do you prefer any authors?” You ask, trying to keep your voice even.

“Nah, I rarely have enough time to read anyway, anythin’ is fine with me.” The man’s face stays stoic.

You stiffly nod your head hoping that he won’t notice your nervous nature around him. Looking through the books you shift through the authors until you find the book that you pick out. You hand the book to the man and watch as he scans over the cover. You gave him one of your favorite mystery books. There is no noticeable change in expression on his face as he turns the book and reads the back.

“Looks good.” You smile at his words, glad you could help him.

“Ready to check out?” You look at the man and he nods his head.

You grab the book and guide the man to the register at the back of the store. Quickly jumping behind the register you take the scanner from its place and scan the barcode on the man’s book. When you go to give the book back to the man your hands touch and in a split second you both drop the book.

The sensation you feel when you touch the man is unlike any other you’ve ever felt in your life. It feels better than when you have hot soup on a cold day or when you bake your favorite treat. It feels like a jolt of euphoria running from your arm to your toes, it’s almost euphoric enough to send you off your feet. You can still see the man in front of you, but suddenly you feel nothing but comfort and safety when you look at his eyes. His eyes remind you of one word. Home.

Ghost is completely thrown into another universe when he touches you. Suddenly the stoic man is feeling emotions he’s never felt before. He feels his emotional guard slip for a moment as your hands make contact. Brought back to his childhood, Ghost is reminded of what it feels like to be loved, to be saved, and to have someone care. As he stares deeply into your eyes he sees a future, and more importantly, he sees hope.

Ghost slips his hand away from yours quickly, his hands clammy as they search his pockets for something. He ignores you completely, every one of your questions and exclamations goes on deaf ears as he searches his pockets. Pulling out a significant amount of money he slams it onto the counter without giving you a second glance. He grabs his book swiftly from the counter and marches for the door.

“Stop! Please, c’mon work with me! I mean, we are soulmates, can I at least know your name-”

Ghost ignores every plea as he reaches the door of the bookstore, throwing it open. Before he can set foot outside of the store, he feels a hand wrap around his wrist. The hand can barely wrap around half his wrist, he turns around only to see you glaring at him.

“Just…tell me your name.” You sigh as you try to get any bit of information that you can.

“...Ghost.” His voice is a low grumble.

Ghost snatches his hand from you pushing his way through the door. He knows he shouldn’t be such a pussy when it comes to this, but he can’t help it. You could never see him again, that was something he promised himself as he walks from the bookstore. Although he felt longing in his chest after being apart from you for just a few seconds, he has no doubts that this is the right option. The man would rather be shot in each leg than speak to his soulmate right now.

Pulling his rain jacket’s hood over his balaclava, Ghost sets off to his temporary apartment. As his feet splash in puddles that appear on the street he can’t help but let his mind wander. He had secretly always wanted a soulmate, but once he joined the military, he swore that if he found his soulmate he would never contact them. It was too much risk, too much emotion involved.

Ghost never learned much about soulmates from anyone growing up. He had learned the basics from school, but he’s long forgotten anything he’s learned. Once he felt that tingle in his body it reminded him of what his teachers taught him. That feeling was unmistakable.

Taking his shoes off at the front door’s mat, he unlocks his flat with his key before heading for a shower. As Ghost waits for the water to completely heat up he undresses, taking his balaclava off last. He looks at himself in the mirror noticing the dark circles under his eyes.

Stepping into the shower, Ghost lets the warm water rush over his body. The water washes over his face as he tries to focus on the feeling instead of his thoughts. He’s set to leave for the base in a few hours and he would rather just forget about this soulmate fiasco. The last thing he needs during this next is Soap up his ass about a soulmate.

Ghost gets out of the shower, wrapping a towel around himself. He hears his phone go off and he moves towards the bedroom and looks at whos calling him. Price’s name shows up on his screen and he answers quickly.

“Captain,” Ghost answers, putting the phone on speaker as he puts on underwear.

“Ghost, are you comin’ to base tonight?” Price’s voice echoes from the phone’s speaker as Ghost gets dressed.

“Yes sir, I’ll be there in half an hour.” Ghost responds quickly, buckling his belt.

“See you then.” The phone call ends swiftly.

You stare outside of the bookstore’s window for the last time before turning the sign from open to closed. You were hoping, praying to whoever was listening that Ghost, as he calls himself, would come back through those doors. That never came though and you doubt he would be back anytime soon. However, you did get a few confused stares from a few old ladies coming in to buy books as you whipped your head around when they walked in.

Now you just have to wait, you will probably teleport, you just don’t know when, or where. Your mind wandered throughout the day, wondering what his job was, where he lived. You hoped that you didn’t teleport somewhere you were not welcome. The worst part about this was that it seemed that your soulmate didn’t even want to be yours. Were you that bad?

You sigh as you open and close the door to your shop, locking the door before beginning your walk back home. It was a rather quiet night, so the walk home was quicker than usual. A bath was necessary after the day you’ve had and it’s never felt better. The suds on your body wash away the stress and worry from the day's events.

Climbing into bed, you turn on some soft music to drown out your thoughts as you lay down. It didn’t take long for sleep to take control of your body, slowly sending you into a dreamless night.

That was until you felt something touch your arm, then you feel something on your neck. You move slightly, pushing whatever it was away until you realize you can’t, and that you live alone. Opening your eyes, you begin to scream when you notice a hand is over your mouth covering it. You look up and see that someone is hovering above you with a knife at your neck.

“Who are you?” The blonde man hissed at you.

You try to speak but your mouth is still muffled by his hand. After a moment, you realize who this must be. It’s Ghost, and you’ve just teleported to him in your sleep, and he’s holding a knife to your neck. Ghost gets closer to you before his eyes widen and he pulls both his hands back.

“Ghost?!” You squeak.

“How the fuck did you get here?” Ghost demands his face nearly touching yours as he gets as close as he can to you a knife still in his palm.

“We’re soulmates…you know, teleporting is a common symptom of being soulmates.” You try not to sound as scared as you feel.

“Teleporting?” Ghost mumbles, it looks like he has no idea what you are talking about.

When Ghost looks at you again he looks at you fully. He sees your lips trembling and your body shaking, you look like you are about to break down.

“You have to get out of here, now.” Ghost says firmly.

“Where is here? Where are we?” You sound almost frantic at this point.

Ghost decides to keep quiet when you ask that question, only staring at you.

“Ghost, where is here?” You repeat your question.

“Military base.”

“What the fuck.”

------

Tagging everyone who requested this (let me know if you want to be on the permanent tag list!) ~ @dreamstateunii @sketchscientist @zeyzeys-stuff @mysardencut @lukneetoonz @cloudyyjanee @edenstarkk @dwkfan

#simon riley #simon riley x reader #cod #cod mw2 #cod x reader #ghost #ghost x reader

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hayatheauthor · 1 year

Text

How To Set The Scene Without Info Dumping

Accidentally writing a manuscript full of info dumping is every writer’s worst nightmare. Info dumping can distract your readers from the heart of your story and destroy their immersion. Unsure how to accurately describe your story’s setting without info dumping? Here are some tips to get you started.

Tip One: Pace Yourself

It’s important to have the right pace when you describe your story’s setting. This helps ensure you give your readers an accurate mental image of your setting and characters without boring them with too many details.

One easy way to accomplish this is by dividing your information based on the scene.

For example, if you’re writing a scene where a new character walks into the room and find yourself info dumping their appearance, try dividing bits and pieces of their description. Start with a simple description of their general characteristics, maybe their clothes are a certain colour or their face looks worn and tired.

Only move on to describe more details once your scene progresses. Your protagonist could maybe notice how their green eyes glint in the sunlight when they take a seat on the chair beside the window. Or they could unbutton a very expensive coat when they take a seat, with the clothing indicating their status.

This technique can also be employed for layouts and room descriptions. Maybe your protagonist walks into a very expensive ballroom with large bay windows but only notices the breathtaking view on the other side of the glass when they take a break from their dancing.

Tip Two: Only Mention What’s Relevant

If writers always only wrote about what was relevant to their story’s plotline, info dumping wouldn’t be a thing. It’s easy to get excited when you’re writing your WIP. After all, there are so many different things you want to show your readers to make them understand the complexities of your tale. But writers can often find themselves info dumping because of this.

Here’s something you probably didn’t want to hear: your readers don’t need to know everything about your book.

It’s an annoying truth, but something you need to come to terms with when writing.

As mentioned in my previous blogs posts, it’s important to know how much of your worldbuilding should be shown in your book and when to mention which parts of your worldbuilding.

For example, saying a new character had a tortured look in their deep grey eyes that reminded your protagonist of the rumours of their childhood might be intriguing, but it’s important to consider whether or not that little piece of information is relevant to the current scene.

If a piece of description or information isn’t relevant to what’s going on in your current chapter then consider cutting it out to eliminate any info dumping. This is especially important during fast-paced scenes such as fights or emotional revelations.

Tip Three: Set A (Word) Limit

If you’re really struggling with info dumping then try setting a limit to restrict how much you write. Go back to any parts of your WIP that you think have a bit of info dumping and check how many words or paragraphs that part has, then set a goal for how many words/paragraphs you want it to be. Paste that particular text into a different document and start snipping away at unnecessary information or wordy areas until you reach your desired word or paragraph count.

You can also do this for scenes that are overly descriptive. Following the previous examples, if you have a scene where your protagonist walks into a new room or a new character makes an appearance then try cutting out bits of the initial description and relocating them to a later part of your scene in order to meet your desired word limit.

Tip Four: Get Poetic

Do you know when people don’t mind long descriptions? When they are poetic and paint a vivid image in their head. These types of descriptions can help immerse your reader before you move into the heart of your scene.

It doesn’t have to be long or overly dramatic, but a good piece of description can help you set your scene without accidentally info dumping.

However, this tip should be used sparsely throughout your book in order to ensure you don’t constantly break your reader’s immersion. It’s important to ensure your poetic descriptions actually tie into the heart of your chapter. For example, don’t go describing a character’s hair poetically if that character only showed up to tell your protagonist something.

I hope this blog on how to set the scene without info dumping will help you in your writing journey. Be sure to comment any tips of your own to help your fellow authors prosper, and follow my blog for new blog updates every Monday and Thursday.

Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks?

Are you an author looking for writing tips and tricks to better your manuscript? Or do you want to learn about how to get a literary agent, get published and properly market your book? Consider checking out the rest of Haya’s book blog where I post writing and marketing tools for authors every Monday and Thursday.

Want to learn more about me and my writing journey? Visit my social media pages under the handle @hayatheauthor where I post content about my WIP The Traitor’s Throne and life as a teenage author.

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mcflymemes · 6 months

Text

8 IDEAS FOR GETTING MORE ROLEPLAY INTERACTIONS remember to always be respectful and read rules before reaching out!

cater your space down to the most active, most interactive blogs on your dash, and always try to follow new people to broaden that group. if someone isn't liking your posts or sending memes, maybe it's time to part ways! that's all right! it's okay to softblock them and find others who are more engaged and more interested in your blog and your character/s.

memes. reblog them... and dear god, send them! if you see a blog on your dash reblog a meme... send some in! send a handful! especially if the two of you have never interacted, sending memes shows them you're interested and want to create some fun dynamics! please don't be nervous about doing this - you know how excited you get when you receive memes... and they'll probably feel the same way!

send spontaneous headcanon questions, asks, or compliments. everyone loves a good (not anonymous) message in their inbox. ask about their character! ask where their ideas came from! how do they write so beautifully - what books do they read to help inspire them? what music do they listen to when they write? maybe compliment their graphics! compliment their writing style! this is a fantastic way to create connections and show an interest in others, who will then in turn show an interest in you.

follow your mutuals' mutuals. if you keep seeing a certain blog writing with your mutuals... follow them! see what happens! they've probably seen you on their dash, too, so you already have something to bond over. maybe you can incorporate your dynamic with a mutual into one of your new threads?

send an IM. this is the one that rarely ever gets used, but i find it the most effective way to start something fun. if you follow a new blog and you've got an idea for a plot with them... send them a message! "thanks for following me back! i love your blog already! would you be interested in plotting?" start a chat with them and come up with something fun!

do not put all the burden on the other person. too often people are so excited to plot... and then expect the other person to do all the work. when you plot with someone, have ideas. come with options. offer to send them memes to start something off. ask questions about their character. would your character even like mine? what dynamic will they have? should we do a pre-established relationship and avoid the awkward first meeting threads? have ideas ready!

don't guilt. "no one wants to write with me." "no one likes me." "i don't have any threads." "no one ever sends me memes." "i guess all my followers hate me." "i'm just gonna delete my blog." these are not fair to say. these statements are harmful, both to you and to your friends, and i can guarantee that these statements push any potential interactions away. these are normal feelings to have, and it's terrible that you feel these things, but posting about them to guilt your followers does not create an environment conducive to creativity and harmony.

most importantly, remember that people have lives. people have jobs, families, pets, responsibilities, health struggles, and other irl things that might prevent them from putting all of their enthusiasm or time into writing with you. if plotting or interactions don't work out with one person, move on to the next.

#rp help #rpc help #rp psa #rpc psa #roleplay help #roleplay psa #roleplay advice #rp advice #mcflymemes #mine

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mads-nixon · 6 months

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Hey Mads,

I saw your requests are open. Could i please request a Dating Eugene Roe headcanon? Thank you 💕

Dating Eugene Roe Headcannons

Eugene Roe x Reader

Masterlist

A/N: My first ever BoB fic was about Gene, so he holds a special place in my heart. Thanks for requesting! I loved writing these!! this is about the fictional portrayal of easy company on the show. nothing but love and respect for veterans on this blog!

So you and Gene meet in Aldbourne when Easy first gets moved there in September of 43' (you meet in october).

You're sitting in a coffee shop reading in the corner, and he thinks you're easily the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.

Being a shy guy, Gene doesn't say anything to you the first time he sees you. He just subtly glances at you from his spot across the shop.

Turns out, he isn't as subtle as he thinks and you totally notice the staring but don't mind it because you think he's very handsome.

You come into the shop every saturday morning, and every Saturday morning, he's there as well. After a few weeks of sneaking glances, you decided enough was enough.

You walk over and introduce yourself to him, and BOY does he go red when you say that you've noticed him.

Despite the awkwardness of the beggining of the conversation, things fall into a steady rhythm, and you find yourself enjoying his company.

Gene's very soft-spoken and respectful (the BEST listener in the whole company if you ask me)

You get to know each other a little bit, and when you have to leave, you write down your address on a table napkin with a grin, telling him you're free the next day at 6.

The next day, he shows up to your house at 5:55 with a bouquet of roses, wearing his dress uniform. He offers you his arm, and the two of you are off to Swindon for the night.

It ended with a sweet kiss under the stars at your porch (there was no light on because of the black-out being in effect)

from there, it was history, and you soon fell for the cajun medic, and he fell just as hard for you.

Whenever he gets weekend passes, the two of you go for day trips to Swindon or London, strolling down the streets softly talking.

In London, you take him to Crystal Palace Park, where you lay out a soft blanket and have a cozy picnic. Your head lays on his lap, and he gently runs his hands through your hair as he talks about his family back home.

You LOVE hearing the different stories of his grandmother and her healing abilities. It only makes sense that Gene would become a medic to help people, following in her footsteps.

As his training continued and the concern of Sobel leading the company grew, Gene began to bottle up his anxieties and distance himself from you slightly.

I feel like Gene is the type of guy who wouldn't want to tell you his problems because he doesn't want to add to your plate, so he suffers in silence.

You confront him about it and he sighs before telling you everything about Sobel and how incompetent he is. (you hate him with a burning passion...possibly more than Eugene does, but it's close.)

Sunday dinner with your family becomes a weekly thing as time drags on. Your dad was hesitant to bring an American into your house, but he likes Gene more than he ever would have thought.

I'd like to think that Eugene buys you small trinkets that reminds him of you (idk where this came from but it's in my mind now)

OKAY...JEALOUS GENE IS HOT, MAN

we all know he can get fired up (after moose get's shot, he rips Dick and Harry a new one), but what gets him really fired up is when he's jealous

Some nights when you're out at a pub, men will make passes at you despite him sitting right there...boy it grinds his gears.

I have a feeling he would just sit there silent because if he opens his mouth, he knows he wouldn't be able to control himself (imagine his *angry* look after Sobel screws up the training mission in curahee) .

You notice and reach out for his hand over the table, trying to calm him down. "I'm going to get us some drinks," you squeeze his hand before getting up.

Gene's eyes follow you as you waltz across the room, and he takes a deep breath.

His gaze falls to the table for a moment, and when he turns back to you, he sees red. There's a British soldier at the bar who's all up in your personal space and is getting closer every second. Eugene can see the discomfort all over your face.

He shoots up from the table and quickly makes his way over to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you behind him as he faces the guy.

"Do we have a problem here?" He asks, looking down at the man with fire in his gaze.

The Brit cowers instantly, taking his drink off the table before walking away. "No, sir."

Even through the man was super annoying, seeing Gene like that is incredibly hot, and you turn him around and kiss him.

He calms down pretty quickly after that.

Whenever they have to leave for Upottery, you share a sweet goodbye filled with tears (a lot from you and a few from Gene), and promises of writing.

You keep in contact through letter for the whole duration of the war, and the second he can leave after it's over, he comes straight to Aldbourne and asks you to marry him.

Tag List: @liptonsbabe @footprintsinthesxnd @bucky32557038ww2 @flowers-and-fichte @merriell-allesandro-shelton

message or comment if you want to be added to the tag list!

#band of brothers #hbo war #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers imagines #eugene roe #eugene roe x reader #eugene roe imagines #eugene roe headcannons #band of brothers headcannons #hbo war headcannons #gene roe #eugene doc roe

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thatguywhofedme · 1 year

Text

Influencer to live piggy

I was browsing tumblr, looking through the same pages I followed, wishing the feeder in those stories and images was feeding ME into a food coma

I mean, I'm already gaining steadily by stuffing myself as much as I could, last time I weighed myself I was 225 lbs and that was a year ago

That's when I got the idea, why not make my own blog showing off my body, this will surely get the attention of a feeder who would like to stuff me silly

I instantly created my profile and decided to call myself deathbylard, thought this would be pretty clear as to what my blog would be about

After a couple of months, everything was going well

Everyone was loving my big belly, thickening thighs and fat juicy ass, I was now 274 lbs and was finally getting noticed, that's when he messaged me

His profile name was feedyoutodeath, little did I know it was literal

We began chatting and the more we talked, the more we discovered we had tons in common and when we decided to ask each other where we live, we surprisingly lived close by

We decided to meet at an all-you-can-eat buffet, I was waiting at a table when I heard the door open and recognized him instantly

He got to my table and told me how beautiful I looked and if I was ready to eat

I told him to fill me up while rubbing my belly

He instantly got to the buffet and came back with four plates full of the greasiest food he could find

He sat in front of me and began feeding them to me

There wasn't a lot of people, but the staff had a full view of someone getting fed mouthful after mouthful, getting messier from each bite

After I had miraculously ate everything, I was so full I couldn't get up from the chair and my big belly was in full view, bright red and hard like a bowling ball

He helped me from my chair, but not before whispering in my ear "I hope you enjoyed this little lunch of yours, because there's only going to be even more each time we see each other my little piggy"

I was so fucking turned on

We kept seeing each other at least twice a week if not more and he had me on a strict diet consisting of the most fattening and unhealthy food he could think of

After a year of this, I had BLOWN UP, I was so fat I needed a cane to walk the few hundred meters I could do without sweating and getting out of breath, my belly was going to my knees and my ass needed two chairs to support it

We decided to put me on the new scale he had bought me, it had a capacity of 750 lbs

When I got on the scale, I could hear it creak under my weight and after a moment, it beeped to signal it had finally weighed me

My feeder got under my belly and gasped, I asked him how much and he got behind me while groping my fat ass and whispered "614.57 lbs, you're officially my prized hog and only going to get bigger you massive pig"

He slapped my ass HARD, grabbed me by my hand and got me to the bedroom where I knew I was going to need another shake and a good fucking

During this time, my tumblr had exploded in popularity, I was getting so much attention from my huge body and they simply couldn't get enough of it

Some would even say that they wanted to be my feeder and would make me even bigger, but I knew they were only words and not actually fattening me up, I already found the one to do this perfectly

I told my feeder and decided it was time for him to take care of me and my blog while I relaxed and let myself go completely

I knew I was in good hand, being able to pig out while gaining as much weight as I wanted and getting fucked anywhere at anytime, what's not to love

I moved in with him and was surprised by the setup he had for me, bariatric bed with every life support machines I could need including a heart monitor, a fridge beside my bed, a 5 gallon jug high up from where my head would be and a trough !?!

I knew I was a pig, but that was a whole new level and I was simply loving it !!!

I was getting so turned on, that's when he got in front of me, put a pair of pig ear and a pig nose, he began force feeding me two boxes of donuts and said

"this will be your world from now on, you'll be in this bed or on all four eating like a true pig, only able to eat, get fatter and be my personal at home piggy

I've put cameras in your room for everyone on your blog to enjoy, they'll be able to see what a real fatty looks like and witness your disgusting diet, you'll be the star like you wanted from the start

I will make you the fattest person on earth and will continue making you fatter until that little heart of yours gives out for good, that's the only moment I will allow you not to stuff yourself until you pass out from eating too much

You better be ready because all of this starts right now"

I answer by putting my walker to the side, struggling to get on all fours and oinking like a real pig

He got into the kitchen and came back with a trolley full of my favorites, took all of them and throw them into the trough no matter what it was

"eat" is all he said

I obliged and began to stuff myself while moaning and grunting

He got behind me and forced my head deeper

"I don't want you to only eat at a normal speed, real pigs finish all of this in not time no matter what, so you better eat more before I force this funnel down your throat again"

I gulped and began eating faster, I didn't care if my mouth was full, I needed to eat faster to satisfy my feeder, that's what I was always best at and I wasn't going to disappoint him, not now or ever

Six years have passed and I was now permanently planted on my bed, hooked up on life support, my blood vessels being clogged up even more by each fattening feast that entered my greedy mouth and needing multiple pills for my diabetes, blood pressure and cholesterol medication just for me to be able to live a little longer each day

I was so fat now my ass was almost reaching the side of the massive California king size bariatric bed, I needed a crane fixed to the ceiling to move me so I could be taken care of

my body was now slick and sweaty all the time from the exertion of being in this massive body, my love handles, rolls of fat, underboobs and my swollen fupa were always sweaty from having lbs after lbs of fat creating a crease of unable to support all the humidity my body was creating, my three massive chins were coated with grease and crumbs from the multiple meals and shakes I needed in a day, it was the same story for my massive chest and enormous belly that now reached my toes all made it hard for me to breath, all my fat was ridden in cellulite all over, especially in my massive juicy ass and my belly was also covered in bright red stretch marks showing my feeder's technique of feeding me the trashiest food with no mercy for my weakened body while crushing my organs and I was really struggling to breath now, even my oxygen mask was barely able to feed me air and if I wasn't huffing I was wheezing like a pig while sweating like I had run a marathon

My feeder as kept his words, he made me the fattest person alive and we couldn't be happier about it, last time we checked my weight via the built in scale it said 1658.93 lbs

And just because I weigh this much doesn't mean we don't have sex, on the contrary

With the help from the crane, he would lift me up just enough to go under me and begin fucking my hearts out until I came again and again

He would also let me know how much he love me and my massive body, he would go on top of me while trying is best to avoid my massive swollen fatty liver that has gotten no rest in my years and unrelentless feeding and kiss me all over, sometimes he would concentrate a little more on my thighs, other times it would be my sagging ass, enormous thighs, my belly of course, he couldn't get enough of it and any other parts of my body really, he truly loves all of me

That doesn't stop him from teasing me by saying something like "look at what we did to your body, you surely are the fattest fuck anyone would have ever seen and there's absolutely nothing you can do about it" or "you know you're going to die on this bed and there's absolutely nothing you can do about it, all you can do is enjoy yourself while it last until your fat coated heart is tired of supporting your body and you get your fourth and final heart attack" he loved to tease me in the meanest way possible and couldn't simply get enough of it

Although, when I was horribly full, feeling like my stomach would explode at any moment, he would get mad and play with my oxygen tube until I agreed to getting stuffed even more

And if I was being an extra good hog, he would up the pressure on my feeding hose so more and more delicious lard shake would go to my stomach and make me even fatter by the second

Oh speaking of which, my viewers also couldn't get enough of me

I now had millions and millions of followers who would log in just to see myself get pumped even more full of lard and get even fatter by the day

I was able to watch all of this happening on the TV my feeder put in front of me

He wanted me to see all the damage we had done to my body and everytime I looked at myself from the live feed, I still couldn't believe I was this impossibly, enormously fat blob who was only good at swallowing lard shakes and letting it all transform into new fat cells that will make me even bigger and unhealthy than I already was

By the way my heart was slooooowly beating, I knew I wouldn't have long until my body gives up

I had reached pretty much all my goals but don't think for a second I don't have any objectives

I still need to get fatter and keep growing for my feeder

I'm always going to be his personal pig and only live to satisfy his need to force feed me the most unhealthy and greasiest food and shakes imaginable

I'll always want more and more and EVEN FUCKING MORE !!!!

Oink Oink !! 🐷

#death feedee #death feederism #death feedist #immobility #immobile feedee #extremely obese #fatter #feederism kink #death feeder #help me get fatter #get me fatter #fatty getting fatter #make me huge

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rollingsins · 1 year

Text

three’s a crowd, part one

summary: you hadn’t expected this. to fall in love. with not one girl, but two. you hadn’t expected to ruin their friendship. love triangle au.

pairing: emma myers x reader, jenna ortega x reader

warnings: language.

word count: 3k

a/n: first part in my love triangle fic as mentioned earlier on my blog! let me know your thoughts and what direction you want me to take with this. few ideas but I’d love to hear your thoughts! :))

A dream job, that’s what this was.

You could barely believe it the moment the call came in. You were going to be on a TV show - you were going to be on Wednesday.

It was the second season of production; you’d been a little nervous at first, coming into a pre-established cast, but everyone had gone out of their way to make you feel comfortable.

There’s Hunter with his fluffy hair and boyish smile. Joy, so friendly, so warm as she hugs you. Georgie with his accent and long, James Dean-esque haircut.

“We’re so happy to have you.” Joy says, smile warm. She’s gripping onto your arm, “Fresh blood.”

“Seriously.” Hunter says as he hugs you, “It’s good to have you. You’ll love it here. We’re like a family.”

“Have you met the girls yet?” Joy asks. She looks over her shoulder, as if trying to scout them.

The girls can only mean two people. You shake your head, a little nervous. Jenna was the show’s star, you had no idea what she’d be like. And Emma was playing your love interest. You’d never had a love interest on screen before, and the show hadn’t bothered with a chemistry test. You wondered if you’d like her. Found yourself thinking with butterflies in your stomach how you’d have to kiss her.

“Thick as thieves, those two.” Georgie murmurs, “Never one without the other. I’ll find them.”

He slinks off somewhere. Hunter takes your arm, walks you around the set.

“We’re having a get together tonight.” Hunter tells you, “You should come. It’s like a pre-season celebration.”

“I’ll be there.”

Georgie’s back, this time, two girls follow him.

It’s Jenna, you recognise her immediately. She’s gorgeous, is your first thought. Long dark hair, dark eyes, freckles dotted across her face. It’s all you can do to stop your jaw hitting the floor.

“I’m Jenna.” She’s hugging you. When she pulls back, the other girl is stepping forward.

“I’m Emma” Pretty blue eyes, short, shoulder length blonde hair. You take the hand she offers, smile, a little shy.

“Hi.”

She’s also gorgeous, you think. In fact, the entire cast is gorgeous. Without thinking, you blurt it out.

They all laugh. Hunter nudges your shoulder.

“Good start. You’re going to fit in great.”

Your first day is a blur of meeting new faces, trying to remember your lines and cues. When it’s all over, you’re standing in front of the door to Hunter’s hotel room, a bottle of Grey Goose in hand.

Hunter ushers you in.

Georgie and Joy are on the balcony, sharing a vape between them.

Jenna and Emma sit on the couch, speaking in soft voices.

They’re holding hands, you can’t help but notice. Your eyes linger. Wonder why you’re a little disappointed.

“What do you want to drink?’ Hunter’s voice snaps you out of your reverie.

“Vodka-soda.”

You mingle a little. Hunter tells you about his husband. Joy shows you how to mix a perfect margarita. Two or three drinks in and you’re out on the balcony, taking a breather. You don’t even notice someone behind you until you hear Emma’s voice.

“You all good out here?” She asks.

You turn, look at her. She’s so pretty. Is all you can think. Her blue eyes glimmer in the moonlight.

“Fine.” Is what you say. “Just thinking.”

She slides in beside you, nudges your shoulder.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

You bite your lip.

“I’m nervous.” You tell her, “This is my first real acting gig.”

She hums. Brings her glass to her lips.

“You’re doing great.” She says, “You have nothing to be nervous about. I was nervous too, my first time. It gets easier.”

“Thanks.” You say. Your eyes flick to the room - Jenna’s nowhere in sight.

“Where’s Jenna?” You ask. Emma looks over to you.

“Bathroom, I think.”

“Is she your girlfriend?” You blurt out before you can stop yourself. Immediately you regret it. The drink has made you a little too bold.

Emma laughs.

“No.” She says, eyes sparkling. “She’s like my sister.”

Oh. You lick your lips. Your stomach flips. Elation rushes through you. The thought of them together makes you sick to your stomach, though you’re not exactly sure why.

Emma’s watching, her eyes curious.

“Why do you ask?”

You shrug. “No reason.”

You take your drink in hand, scoot back over to the hotel room before you embarrass yourself any further.

Shooting begins. It’s only been a little over a month, but it feels like you’ve known these people for years.

There isn’t a single actor you don’t like; any one of them can make you laugh until you cry, and within weeks they start to feel like five of your new best friends. Not so surprisingly, it’s Jenna and Emma you feel closest to. Jenna’s there everyday, and despite the fact it’s her show, and you’re all essentially just set pieces to make her look good, she never treats you as though you are. She’s with you in the trenches, her calves just as sore from standing all day, laughing and joking along with everyone else.

Emma’s a sweetheart, more thoughtful than you’d ever thought she’d be. She brings in cookies sometimes, showers one of the crew, Georgia, with flowers and gifts on her birthday. The three of you slip into a familiar routine. Every morning going to make-up together, goofing around on set. Then you’d hang out later, sometimes in each other's trailers, sometimes in each other's hotel rooms.

The three amigos, Hunter called you once. It had a nice ring to it.

Only, this week you hadn’t seen that much of Jenna. She was shooting constantly, sometimes fourteen hour days. It left you and Emma alone a lot of the time. Just hanging out, watching Netflix or cooking dinner together.

“Kind of like a couple.” Joy had teased one night over drinks, when you’d mentioned it.

Your head had shot up and immediately your cheeks had tinged red.

“We’re not a couple.” You’d clarified and Hunter and Joy had shared a look, “We’re not.”

“Not yet.” Hunter had sing-songed, before darting off to pour himself another drink.

In truth, they weren’t entirely wrong. There had been something weird, a certain vibe between you. You brushed it off. It was because your characters had romantic tension, you figured.

But sometimes you’d catch her looking. Wondered maybe if there was something more to it.

The thought of dating Emma made you feel strange. Fluttery, a little, in a good way. But also in a bad way. In truth, lately you’d been a little confused. Something was holding you back, but you weren’t quite sure what it was.

It’s another one of those nights tonight.

You’re in Hunter’s hotel room, again, sprawled across the couch with a vodka-soda in hand. Jenna isn’t working tonight, she’s sitting across from you. It’s nice to be with her again. You missed her. Her wry, sarcastic humor. Pretty eyes that sparkle back at you, as if you’re sharing some inside joke.

You’re a few drinks in, just you and her. Hunter’s gone to fetch ice. The others will be here soon, Jenna tells you, looking at her phone. You settle into an easy conversation.

Somehow, you’re on the topic of boyfriends.

“I never asked-” Jenna says, taking a long sip of her drink, “Do you have a boyfriend? A girlfriend?”

You feel your own cheeks heat.

“No.” You say, maybe too quickly, “Do you?”

She shakes her head. Circles her fingers around the rim of her glass. She has a strange look on her face, one you can’t quite read.

“Do you have your eye on anyone?” She asks. Her voice is weird, weighted. Like the question is a trap.

She’s observing you. Under her steady gaze you feel like a lab rat.

“No.” You say, “Maybe. I don’t know.”

“Thanks for clearing it up.” She leans back, still watching. A small smile tugs at her lips, she’s teasing you.

“Do you have your eye on anyone?” You throw back to her, leaning forward. She licks her lips. Your stomach flips. Part of you hopes she doesn’t respond. Your chest feels tight at the thought.

“Not fair.” She says, “I asked you first.”

Your heart thumps. She’s leaning back into her seat.

“Is it Emma?” She asks, suddenly, “Do you like her?”

“I think she likes me.” You say, truthfully. You wonder if she can hear your heart pounding in your chest. Your blood has turned cold.

“That’s not what I asked.” She says. The playful teasing is gone. She’s weirdly serious.

You swallow. Shrug, trying to appear non-committal. You wonder if she can see through it.

“I don’t know.” You say.

“You don’t know?” She asks, a little perplexed.

“No. I don’t know.” You say, “I mean how do you know if you like someone? It’s complicated, right?”

Jenna shakes her head, “Not for me. When I like someone I know it. Right away.”

You tilt your head, annoyance fluttering through you.

“So who is it then? This person you like so much?”

Jenna says nothing. Watching, like she always does. You’re starting to get irritated with her stoic silence.

The buzzer rings. It startles both of you. You rise, almost glad for the tension break, and open the door.

It’s Georgie, smiling wide, a bottle of Gin in hand.

“Joy’s on her way.” He declares, prancing past you and helping herself to a glass from your kitchen shelf.

“Awesome.” You hear yourself mumble, a million miles away.

He looks back at you, eyes twinkling, as if he knows something he shouldn’t.

“Maybe you could invite Emma too.”

He pours himself a healthy glass. Tops up Jenna’s cup before clamoring onto the couch and nestling into her side. Your jaw tightens as you watch them, and suddenly everything makes sense.

You decide to invite Emma after all.

It’s just a text.

Bunch of the cast is over, you should come hang, would love to see you xx

You stare at it for a while, wonder if it’s too flirty. Or not flirty enough. Or even flirty at all.

Jenna and Georgie chat quietly on the couch as Hunter goades you into taking a tequila shot.

Then another. You look down at your phone. The liquid courage is enough for you to hit send.

“Where’s Emma?” Hunter asks, leaning over to you. He’s tipsy, presses his weight on your shoulder.

“I invited her.” You say, prying the tequila bottle out of his hand.

Hunter and Joy share a knowing look.

You catch it, irritation blooming in your chest.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Joy sing-songs. “I’m sure she’ll be here soon. If you invited her.”

“You two are annoying on tequila.” You tell them, looking over to see if the other two are better company. They’re talking quietly. Seriously. You stare at Jenna, trying to make out her expression. She’s as hard to read as ever, the tequila doing nothing for your perception.

Your mind wanders. You wonder if Georgie knows Jenna likes him. You imagine Jenna telling him, stuttering over her words, the composure she keeps so carefully guarded shattering in a moment of vulnerability.

You imagine them kissing, and your stomach writhes with something snakelike. Disgust, perhaps. You swallow the lump in your throat. Reach for the tequila bottle.

Your phone buzzes in your hand. It’s Emma.

Would love to. Excited to see you too. Be there in 5 xx 😚

“Emma’s coming.” You mumble to Hunter.

He smiles wide. Makes a kissy noise.

“God help me.” You mumble.

You don’t know whose idea it was to go swimming at midnight, seven or eight drinks in, but here you all are.

Joy and Georgie are the first ones in, stripped down to their underwear. Hunter follows, fully clothed, too drunk to care.

You hang back, awkwardly trying to pull your jeans off. Emma hovers next to you. Pulls her shirt over her head. It’s been awkward since she arrived. You’ve been awkward. Avoiding eye contact, answering every question with a jilted, one syllable answer. It’s much easier to talk to girls over text, you discern. It’s less stressful.

“Hurry up!” Joy yells over at you. “The water’s amazing!”

Emma pulls her jeans down. You look away. Jenna’s close, settling herself into a nearby pool lounger. She’s still nursing her drink.

“You’re not going in?” You ask her.

She shakes her head.

“It’s too cold.”

It is cold. You notice more so now you’re in your underwear. You cover your chest with your hands.

“Come on. Live a little.” Emma teases. “Come in with us.”

She’s stripped down to her underwear. Kicks away her jeans. She’s a few drinks behind the rest of you but you could never tell.

Jenna smiles.

“Maybe in a bit.”

Emma turns to you. Her hands brush your bare shoulder.

“Coming?” She asks, her voice a little softer.

You nod. “Right after you.”

She flashes you a wide smile. And with a running jump, cannonballs her way into the pool.

You linger. Suddenly the pool is less appealing. You eye the empty seat next to Jenna. Sidle over to her and lie back, watching as the others splash each other.

“Aren’t you cold?” Jenna’s voice sounds from beside you. You glance over at her. Lay your head back against the recliner.

“A little.”

Not a little. A lot. You’re shivering. You wonder if she can tell.

“Take my jacket.”

“Then you’ll be cold.” You say.

“Then we’ll share.” She says, shrugging herself out of her jacket. “Come here.”

You shuffle closer without a second thought. She tugs the jacket around your shoulders, her arm lingering. You feel her rub your arm, trying to warm you up.

“You’re freezing.” She says, quietly. “You should put your clothes back on.”

“I’m going swimming.” You protest. Your body hums pleasantly with the drink, the heat of her body blanketing you nicely from the cool autumn night. You sink into her, rest your head against her shoulder.

She smells nice. You think as you lay there, her arm around your shoulders. Woody. Like cinnamon and burning logs toiled together. You should ask what perfume she wears.

“You smell like a fireplace.” Is what comes out instead. She turns to meet your gaze, a smile tugging at her lips.

“You smell like tequila.” She says, her eyes twinkling.

You grimace. Tuck your head back into her shoulder.

“You’re warm.”

“You’re drunk.”

“Tipsy.” You correct her. “And so are you.”

She hums against you. “Yeah. So am I.”

A roar of laughter draws your gaze to the pool. Hunter is trying to climb onto Joy’s shoulders, each attempt has him falling backwards into the pool.

“I know.” You say, trying to keep your voice light. Causal.

“You know what?”

“Who you like.”

Jenna stiffens against you. You reach for her hand, entwine your fingers, trying to soothe her. You want to be her friend. You want her to know she can trust you with this. You’ve thought long and hard in the hour and a half since you found out she was into Georgie.

You’re going to try, for her.

“It’s okay.” You tease. “Your secret is safe with me.”

You look back to the pool, eyes lock to Georgie.

He’s handsome, you have to admit. You can see why Jenna likes him. You ignore the sharp flash of jealousy that churns within you.

You tilt your head, press a kiss to Jenna’s cheek.

“I’ll help you get him.”

Jenna stares at you for a long moment. Careful eyes watching.

“Him?”

You tilt your head to Georgie. Jenna blinks, but doesn’t say anything. You nudge your shoulders together.

“He’d be an idiot not to like you back, you don’t have to worry about that.” You say. “And then maybe we can go on double dates.”

“Double dates?” She seems confused now. You squeeze her hand, look over to Emma.

She’s smiling, hair slicked back, wet, so pretty in the moonlight. “You, me, Emma and Georgie. What do you think?”

For a moment, you worry you’ve offended her. Her body is tight against you, expression serious. But then she relaxes. Flashes you a tiny, Jenna-like smile.

“Sure.” She echoes, looking out to the water. “Double dates. With you and Emma.”

Hunter’s gone. Face down on the pool recliner. One too many tequila sunrises.

“I’m going to take him up.” Jenna says. She slips out from beneath you. Leaves you with her jacket. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You’re not coming back?” You ask, crestfallen. The cold has already crept back in, the warmth from her body gone. You wrap yourself tighter in her jacket.

“I’m a little tired.” She offers you a small smile. “Goodnight YN.”

You watch as she goes, cradling Hunter against her.

Emma’s approaching, towel in hand. Drying her wet hair.

“You never made it in.” She says. She seems a little disappointed.

You bite your lip. “I know. I’m sorry.”

The crowd is filtering out. Jenna and Hunter are gone. Georgie’s helping Joy clear the empty bottles. You hold out your hand for Emma to take.

“Walk me back to my room?”

Emma walks you back to your room. You haven’t let go of her hand. It’s sort of awkward - you’re making it awkward because you’re so nervous.

“I’m sorry if I’ve been weird tonight.” You say, chewing your lip, “It’s just-”

“You haven’t been weird.” She reassures. Bless her, she isn’t a good liar. Your fingers tighten around hers. Her hair is slicked back, still wet. Her eyes, so blue sparkle back at you. Your stomach flips.

“I think I like you.” You say.

Your heart hammers, quite unpleasantly.

“You do?” She sounds unsure. You nod. Entwine your fingers.

She smiles.

“I think I like you too.”

And then she leans down and kisses you.

She’s a good kisser. Is what comes to your mind at first. Firm but tender. Her hand tilts your jaw up to her. She doesn’t try to slip her tongue in right away, like the boys you’ve kissed before. When she pulls away, her pupils are blown, and her lips are red with your lipgloss.

Your heart thuds. She flashes you a lopsided smile.

“I’ve wanted to do that since the moment I saw you.” She admits, voice deep. Honest.

You want to do it again. Tell her so. Let yourself be swept up in her.

And ignore the tiny, Jenna-sized hole in your heart that tells you to stop.

Next part

#jenna ortega x reader #emma myers x reader #wednesday #fanfiction #jenna ortega x you #emma myers x you #love triangle fic

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kazoosandfannypacks · 7 months

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The reason that so many new tumblr users don't reblog content or make many posts is because they're conditioned by other social medias to think that your role is either that of a content creator or that of a content consumer. Since they don't think they have the potential to write/draw/edit/ext. they think their only role is to consume the content others make (and are unaware that there's no algorithm to make likes worthwhile.)

But what they also don't get is that tumblr isn't about creating or about consuming it's about community. One thing that makes tumblr so distinctly unique from other websites is that it's easy and encourged to make friends with people you'd've never met otherwise. Tumblr is about connecting you with people with shared interests, interests nobody else you'll probably meet in your life will share with you to the same extent.

When you get locked into the creator/consumer mindset, you tend to ignore that reblog button- so your blog has no content, and no one knows who you are, and no one follows you, and you've got that one-sided, outsider relationship with the blogs you interact with. You don't have a community, you don't have a connection, you just get content- and that's alright, but it's not really the spirit I've noticed in tumblr.

On tumblr we reblog posts, so our followers can know what we like and remember we're still here. On tumblr we reblog posts, so the people who worked hard to make them can see that someone likes their work enough to want to be identified by their enjoyment of it. On tumblr, we reblog posts, and we write little notes in the tags so that our followers can see how our mind works, and we share ask games just so we can get to know each other better, and we make posts about silly little things that happened in our day, and we share each others' fanfiction and bad posts just to say "OP, how could you do this to me?"

I think it's kind of whack that so many social medias now days have become "give content/get content" places, but the one site where it's almost a written rule that you don't know people is the one where you build the richest connections with people- but I'm so glad I've found tumblr to be that community.

I don't know if anyone else feels this way (and maybe the new blogs are aware and don't want to build connections and that's why they aren't posting anything) but new blogs (and old blogs alike!) don't be afraid to reblog posts. Don't be afraid to give us updates about your day (in ways that keep your personal info private!) Don't be afraid to hide a little bit of yourself in the tags. In the end, it's actions like these that help you find your people- and that is a wonderful thing.

#tumblr #kazzy has opinions (rare)#tumblr is a webbed site

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wardenparker · 7 months

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The King's Queen - chapter 6

Javi Gutierrez x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Prince Javier of the Balearic Islands has always known that one day he would have to follow in his father's footsteps to be the caring and steadfast king that his people deserve. What he did not know is that he would be stepping into the next phase of his life alongside a woman he has never met before - and amidst a rocky sea of unusual circumstances of every kind.

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 11.4k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: arranged marriage, age gap, classicism, cursing, food and alcohol, mentions of American politics, deceased parents* So much more fluff with no apologies in sight. But also, discussions of death/deceased parent, investigations, and medications. Summary: A stressful breakfast is followed by even more stressful meetings for King Javier, but the sharing of a drink together each night is becoming tradition. Notes: Warning tags are DELIBERATELY VAGUE this week, my darlings. If you want a full disclosure of tags, containing spoilers, feel free to slide into my DMs before you read.

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5

The two days that pass seem to be in a push-and-pull relationship with time. Appointments drag, the clock seems to tick slower and slower every moment, but then the second that you have time with Javi time flies past you in a blink. A few guests have arrived to stay at the palace during the official week of mourning so your meals have been more formal, but you’re starting to settle into the routine. Today is different, but it will be good. Today your brother is arriving, and you practically run to the breakfast room after Flores helps you dress in an appropriate black dress with subdued jewelry. To go out you’ll need a hat and veil, but that will wait. For now, you’re eager to see Javi again after having spent another night in his arms in your bed.

Javi has already had a meeting. Three of them, in fact. Finding it highly irregular to have Lucas demanding an audience before breakfast, he had told his man to have him come to his dressing room. Discreetly staying behind to attend the meeting as his cousin had raged that the King’s body has not yet been displayed for his state funeral.

“Good morning.” His eyes light up when he sees you rushing towards him with a smile on your face.

“Good morning, mi amor.” It doesn’t matter to you that other people are in the room already, you walk directly to his arms and kiss his cheek. “How has your morning been?”

“Interesting.” He murmurs quietly and glances over at where his cousin is making himself comfortable at the breakfast table by demanding hotter tea.

His gaze tells you everything it needs to, and you offer him a pinched smile. If you were wary of Count Lucas Gutierrez of Ibiza at first glance, you can readily say now that you loathe and wish you could avoid the man. He is demanding, slimy, and arrogant. A narcissist. And of course all the things that go hand-in-hand with that. Instead of remarking on it though, you nod, and take your place to Javi’s left side at the table. “I have the first meeting with the wedding planner after lunch today,” you remind him conversationally as a footman sets your plate in front of you and another immediately appears to pour your coffee. Being served is still new and uncomfortable for you but you thank both men for doing their duties. “And Sebastian is arriving this morning.”

“Is it wise to bring in a foreigner?” Lucas has obviously been listening, even if he is a few seats away. Removed from his normal seat and pissy about it. “I mean,” he gives a flat smile that is meant to be charming but there is a cruel light to his eyes. “The position as personal assistant to the queen is one of high honor. What message would it send to give it to an American?”

“That the future queen is cognizant of the importance of family and the connection between the crown and her own parents, and that is why her brother has had the appointment.” Maisie drolls, sipping her own coffee as though Lucas were no more than a fly on the wall. “He is not getting a cabinet appointment, he will be managing her calendar. They are very different things.” Additionally, Julius has already arranged a member of staff to be the support person for the approaching wedding and coronation, to make sure that cultural expectations are met. The whole thing is actually remarkably well organized right out of the gate.

“Besides.” Javi adds. “The Queen’s personal assistant is just that – personal.” He smiles at you. “Just because I was comfortable with keeping Julius on does not mean that I could not have chosen someone else. There’s not been a Queen’s personal assistant since my mother’s death.”

“It will be a very smart decision, I am sure.” Maisie nods as if to dismiss any more question of the topic and picks up her fork to start eating only after the king does.

The way that Lucas smiles makes Gabriela stiffen beside you and her head ducks down even more towards her plate. Aware that his smile is not meant to be comforting. “Of course.” He coos, syrupy sweet. “I am only looking out for the optics of your reign, cousin. It is a heavy burden to carry for anyone, especially you.”

Looking up, you frown to see Gabriela looking spurned and Lucas gleaming with slick confidence beside her. If this keeps up you’ll be seating them on the opposite side of the table at meals. “All the more reason to surround ourselves with people we trust,” you tell him with a breezy air that belies the fact that you don’t trust him as far as you can throw him.

The silence over the breakfast table is a second too long before Lucas answers. “Of course.” He agrees, waving his hand like it was the natural answer.

“I trust everyone will be prepared for the formal processional to the cathedral tomorrow?” Javi had insisted on delaying the ceremony for a proper examination of his father’s body to be performed, and as such it will technically be a day late. The examination is necessary, though, to everyone’s mind. Everyone except Lucas, but Javi will have to tell you about that later.

“It should be today.” Lucas scoffs but shakes his head. “King Miguel will lie in state for the country to mourn.”

“We will be prepared.” Maisie assures you, steadily ignoring Lucas as she eats her breakfast. “Gabriela and I will be beside you, princessa.”

“I appreciate you both immensely.” Without admitting it in front of Lucas, you are fully grateful for their presence in your first true appearance as princess. So far the country has only heard your name, nothing more.

Javi is thinking along those same lines. “I am sorry that your first appearance must be my father’s funeral.”

"There are far worse circumstances we could be in, amor." You set your hand over his on the table momentarily and give it a supportive squeeze. "I am glad you don't have to face the occasion alone."

“It has been a difficult time for us all.” He smiles softly and is happy that you don’t let Lucas get to you. The man’s anger at the examination of his father’s body surprised him and now he doesn’t know what to think. Delaying the viewing by a day isn’t too much to ask.

"Have you decided how long you will wait to crown your princess?" That thought, at least, is happy, but it is surprising coming from Gabriela. Firstly because you did not think she would want to contemplate Javi committing to you more fully, but also because she rarely speaks when her husband is present.

“I have not decided.” Javi admits. “We could do the coronation on the same day as the wedding. But I do not know if Margarita would want that.” He knows a wedding day is special, and a coronation is as well. He doesn’t want you to feel as if the wedding is overshadowed by the affairs of state.

“Apologies, your Majesty.” Maisie smiles easily, not wanting Gabriela to feel embarrassed in front of her husband. “The Contessa is eager to celebrate a new princess. We know that the wedding is still being planned.” In fact, both women are an integral part of the planning process already. “But to elevate the princessa to Crowned Princess can be done simply, no?”

“Yes, you are right.” Javi sends Gabriela a small smile. “Perhaps we should crown the princess the day after the King’s funeral? Give the people a little light in such a dark time? What do you ladies think?”

“Very appropriate.” Maisie praises, looking pleased with the change of topic. “Perhaps in the gardens? It would be lovely, and very lively.”

“When your mother was crowned, there were sweets and a string quartet.” You remember reading all about it and seeing the pictures in online archives. “Maybe…we could pay tribute to her in a small way? Use the rose garden as she did?”

“I would like that.” Javi nods, swallowing harshly as he thinks of how considerate you are. “You should wear her tiara.” He suggests. “Unless you would like to pick another. Her first tiara was always her favorite. It has been in the family for over four hundred years.”

“I will wear whatever you like best.” Sentimental value, cultural value, all of it is wonderful. What matters most to you is making the statement that you are here to support Javi as he cares for his people. Your people. “I will add a meeting with the appropriate members of our staff for this morning. That is one less thing from your plate, querido. Maisie and Gabriela will help me make sure that it is perfect.”

“Tonight, perhaps we can visit the dungeon?” He asks you with a smirk. “That is where the Royal Jewels are kept.” He explains after a moment when it’s obvious you are confused.

“After dinner?” You suggest with a smile. If you go off together after dinner then there will be no detaching yourselves from other – presumably last minute – questions or issues. You can simply climb into bed together afterward.

“I think that is a perfect way to end the evening.” Javi hums and Maisie can’t help but giggle. “Of course it is.” She announces to the table. “It’s every girl's dream to play with priceless, royal jewels.”

The entendre is not lost on you, and you almost choke on the sip of coffee you had just taken. Narrowing your eyes at her across the table, you manage to barely swallow your smirk. “I am sure the Crown Jewels will be treated with the utmost respect,” you answer, knowing that Javi is not likely to be in the mood for anything besides more cuddling on the night before his father’s funeral.

“The utmost respect.” She agrees with a small wink, ignoring the way that Lucas pouts because the conversation is not going the way that he wants.

Julius appears, oblivious to the barely contained giggles radiating from yourself and Dama Maisie, and moves to Javi's side silently. "Your Majesty," he murmurs only when he has reached the space between you and Javi at the table. "My apologies for the intrusion, but your next meeting is in a few minutes."

“I am afraid I must leave you.” Javi stands and leans over to kiss your cheek.

“Cousin, I can attend in your place.” Lucas jumps to his feet, abandoning his own breakfast. “So you do not have to worry about such things.”

There is a moment where the entire table pauses, all heads turning to look at the count in confusion. The outburst is entirely unprompted and more than that, it is unwanted. "The king can attend his own meetings, but your generous offer to help is duly noted." Turning back to Javi, you place a kiss on his cheek in turn and give him an encouraging smile. "If you are able to join us for lunch I will be very happy to see you, but otherwise we will catch up on our meetings at supper tonight. Have a good and productive day, mi amor."

He nods and along with Julius, quickly disappears out of the breakfast room. “That was odd, was it not?” Javi asks his assistant as they walk down the hall. As his father’s assistant, he would be around Lucas more when the count was working closely with King Miguel.

“I wish I could agree, your Majesty.” Julius walks half a step behind him, as is traditional, but makes sure to keep his voice low. “But it is far from the first time that the count has offered to take up royal duties unsolicited.”

Javi stops and turns towards Julius with his head tilted slightly, a frown on his face. “He was often around the palace.” He realizes. “Did he spend much time asking for additional duties from the king?”

Careful not to sound as though he is passing judgment of any kind, Julius does nod and urges the king to keep walking. “He has been desirous of a cabinet position,” he explains as matter-of-factly as possible. “For quite some time.”

“What were the king's thoughts on this?” It’s easier to think of his father as ‘the king’ right now. Allowing him to compartmentalize like Miguel had told him he would need to once he had taken the throne.

“That…” Julius pauses, recollecting King Miguel’s exact words with care. “Until he could be desirous of the position because of an urge to help instead of an urge for power, it would not be allowed.”

“I see.” The journey to the room where he was having his meeting continues as he thinks about this carefully. “Who is the meeting with?” He asks, the meetings over the past days jumbling together through his grief.

“This is the cultural attaché, your Majesty.” It does not phase him one iota that the new king seems to have forgotten — having constant demands on your attention would make any man’s memory blur. “With the sculptor who will be creating the statue in your late father’s memory. They are bringing miniature models for you to choose the tribute you think is most appropriate.”

“I see.” He knows that it is important he chooses the best one. “The meeting with my father’s doctor is later today though?”

“It will be after the attaché.” Julius replies with a nod. “I knew you would be anxious to hear the results, so it will be this morning.”

“Good.” Javi nods. “After that meeting, I wish to speak to the cabinet members. Convey the information myself.”

“Of course, your Majesty.” Toying with the king’s schedule is nothing new to his assistant. He will make whatever King Javier needs happen with the least fuss possible.

“Are we pushing anything too vital?” He is aware that he will be incredibly busy during the transition, but he wants to give any news to his cabinet personally. Most of them served with King Miguel and he felt he owed them that courtesy.

“Not if you do not mind taking a working lunch, sire.” Just because King Miguel had a habit of working through meals did not mean that King Javier would be the same way, and Julius wants to make sure he knows which rules are hard and fast for the new monarch. If meals with his fiancée are a priority, Julius will do everything he can to make it happen.

“I think that as long as you can assure that I have dinner with Margarita, then working through lunch should not be an issue.” He knows that he will have to make some sacrifices and changes, especially in the early days of his reign so he is successful.

“That is what will happen, then.” Filing away that lunch meetings are acceptable but dinner with the future queen is a priority, Julius nods and walks with the king into his office. “I will show in your next appointment, sire.”

The king’s working office isn’t a throne room like so many envision. Perhaps in the days of old, but the large office is functional. The desk is nearly three hundred years old, made from hardwood that has been lovingly polished and maintained. The heavy leather chairs that sit in front of it are meant to be comfortable and yet be slightly imposing. He had been in them many a time and can attest to that when his father was still sitting on the other side.

Julius escorts an elegant woman of around thirty into the room along with the cultural attaché that Javi has met many times at various events over the last ten years or so. Both parties show their reverence with a deep curtsy and a bow, respectively, and the woman carries a large case in her nervous hands.

“Good morning.” Javi is nervous as he shows her over towards the separate area that is less formal than the desk. The couches and coffee table were picked by his grandmother, although his mother had them recovered after he was out of his toddler phase. “Please, sit. Would you like a refreshment?”

The woman shakes her head politely and manages a smile. Her case is heavy and she sets it on the floor to open it carefully. “Thank you for making time for us, your Majesty. We know your schedule is a busy one.”

“A statue in honor and celebration of King Miguel is very important to me.” He promises as he watches her carefully. “His reign should be memorialized for the people.”

"In that, your Majesty, I believe we are in agreement." In extracting her figurines from her case, she sets them carefully on the coffee table between her and the king. "The late King Miguel, may he rest in peace, was very involved with the growth of King's College on Menorca. They have offered us a place on their campus for his tribute with your approval."

He takes his time, wondering how many hours have been put into these figurines. Picking up one and his lip trembles slightly when he sees how perfectly it resembles his father when he was a younger man. “They are exquisite.”

"I—thank you, sire." The young woman is very aware of her own abilities, but the unsolicited compliment makes her practically tremble with pride. "I was a recipient of the arts scholarship at King's College that His Majesty King Miguel, may he rest in peace, made in your mother's name after she passed. So you see...without their generosity I might never have been able to pursue my dream. And so this means a great deal to me, as well."

“Then it is fitting that you create this statue.” He’s touched by the story. “And include that story underneath your name on the plaque.”

"If I may, sire?" The young woman picks up the figurine that depicts King Miguel standing, with one hand resting over his heart and the other holding a book in its palm. He is wearing his most habitual choice of crown and there is a flower in his breast pocket. "The flower is called a Gloria cosmo," she explains, pointing it out carefully. "For Queen Gloria, may she rest in peace. And the book..." She smiles shyly. "I wondered if you might know his favourite book. It is not something that was widely known."

He smiles softly, knowing this is the one that he wants for him. “One Hundred Years of Solitude.” He answers quietly, his thumb brushing over the figure. “I think that I wish for this to be the statue, but—” he looks up at her. “I wish to ask a question.”

“Of course, your Majesty.” The artist nods immediately. “Anything.”

“I want to know how much for all of the figures. These.” He asks, biting his lip. “I want to buy them.”

“Your Majesty I could not possibly.” Within seconds she is shaking her head and motioning for him to take the figures right away. “It would be my honour to give them to you. And the final statue will have a likeness of Marquez’s masterpiece in his hand.”

“No, I must pay you.” He insists. “You have spent considerable time on these.”

“Perhaps…” A small smile graces her lips thinking that the new king might cherish these statuettes of his father, made by her own hands. “Perhaps you might remember my name when the guest list for a royal event comes up. Your Majesty is one of the only people in the world who can actually pay in exposure.”

He cocks his head to the side and he hums. "I see." He leans back and weighs the figurine in his hand as he looks towards the others still sitting on the edge of the case. "Then I will have another request of you?"

The young woman looks to the man she came in with – the cultural attaché who had worked with King Miguel for numerous years. When the man seems be as confused as she is, she simply turns back to the king and nods. "Of course, sire."

"The princess, my— the future queen, will be Crowned in the gardens the day after my father's funeral." He explains. "I would like you there. And if I may ask another favor, I would like a figurine of that moment. Her first moment wearing the Crown of Mallorca." He gives a small smile. "As a wedding present to her."

She melts in her seat, one hand over her heart in almost the same expression as the statue she has created. "It will be a momentous occasion," she murmurs, quietly in awe. "And it is a very romantic gift. I will make certain that it perfect."

"That, I must insist on there being payment." Javi tells her. "No matter how much you offer it as a gift."

"As your Majesty wishes." It will mean a great and meaningful commission for her, to have done two pieces for the crown, and she nods gratefully. "If there is anything specific you wish to be included in the image, it would be useful to know ahead of time," she tells him then, taking out the sketchbook that she had brought in case the king did not approve of any of her designs and she needed to start from scratch. "A material you might prefer, or a favourite stone of the princess's?"

"I think we should use local limestone." Javi frowns slightly and looks towards the artist with a curious expression. "Would that be too hard? Too soft? I had thought marble, but I think that it would be more symbolic that way."

"Limestone is perfect because it is soft." The young artist assures her king. "That is what makes it desirable for my craft. I will plan to use limestone as you suggest, sire. It will be a beautiful tribute to your princess." She, like everyone else in the country, was surprised to hear of a princess's existence but that surprise has become intrigue. No one ever thought that Prince Javier would settle down, and now it seems that he has found his match.

"Good." He sits back, relieved that he had chosen correctly and a small hum of pleasure comes out of his throat. "I will make sure that my assistant gets your contact information and you are formally invited."

"Thank you very much, your Majesty." She is beaming at him as she clasps her empty case shut again and stands with the older man who had shown her in. She curtsies again and it is surer this time – the nervous shake of anxiety gone from her posture and replaced with excitement.

"Come," Julius motions toward the door they had entered mere minutes ago. "I will collect your information and make sure you are added to the formal invitation lists." He will, without mentioning it for now, add this charming young woman to all of the guest lists for the foreseeable future. It will be good to have new faces in attendance and especially those who represent the next generation of the kingdom's future.

Javi continues to stare at the figurines of his father, noting the craftsmanship and the way that he can practically see his father's face in the material. Making him miss the man even more and he sighs as he picks up the entire set to bring over to the bookshelf behind his desk.

When Julius returns a few minutes later, he is nearly silent while he observes the new king at his desk, only clearing his throat when he is certain that he will not disturb or frighten the young king with his appearance. "The royal physician is here, your Majesty."

Theres a slight sense of dread that curls in the pit of his stomach, wanting to make him refuse the visit. As absurd as it is considering he had asked the doctor to meet with him. Insisted upon it. Now that the moment is here, he cannot shy away from it. A document with his father's seal is under his fingertips as he looks down, admiring the decisive signature. "Send him in." He nods, pushing down the childish fear and facing the truth to come.

Julius nods, retreating for only a moment before reappearing with Dr. Garza. The man's presence is a familiar one for Javi, as he has been the Royal family's primary physician for nearly ten years, but today he is nervous and his movements stunted. He almost looks scared. "Your Majesty," he murmurs, bowing deeply to the new king.

“Thank you for taking the time to see me.” Javi is very aware that the doctor is a very busy man and just because he is king does not mean the people come at his beck and call. His father has continuously reminded him that the monarchy was there to serve them, not the other way around. “Can I offer you a drink?”

"I think it would be best...to abstain, sire." Dr. Garza steps forward again and Julius motions for him to sit, but the doctor remains standing. "I am scheduled to examine your fiancée after this meeting and I would hate for any impairment in my judgement to lead to an undesirable result."

At first, Javi frowns, immediately wondering if there is something wrong in the short time you have been apart. Only to realize why the doctor would be examining you. "I see." He clears his throat and knows that he shouldn't argue against the tradition, knowing that you have been run through full physicals already in the US, but of course his own country would demand their own examination.

"I am sure the princess is in perfect health. It is only a matter of custom," the doctor assures him, but shifts nervously again on the rug.

"Is there something upsetting you?" Javi asks, motioning towards the couches in case the doctor wished for a more informal setting. Some do no like to feel as if they are called onto the carpet, he knows that too well.

"Your Majesty, the final examination of your father..." Dr. Garza gulps down a heavy sigh. "It yielded something...unexpected."

"Had the cancer spread?" He asks softly, his eyes betraying the hurt of losing his father so quickly after finding out about his sickness. If only there had been more time.

"Well...yes...sire." Garza licks his lips nervously and extracts an envelope from the pocket of his jacket which lists all of the official findings in medical specificity. It is his job to put those findings into layman's terms. "The cancer had spread. With what I found, I would have optimistically have given your father three-to-six more weeks. However...the advancement of his disease is not what I was referring to as unexpected."

Three-to-six more weeks. Less time than he had been told, more time than he had. Javi looks over at the figurines on the bookshelf. "What else would be unexpected?" He asks softly, unsure of much medically.

"There was a medicine found in your father's blood work that was not prescribed to him." Though Garza hesitates to use the term drug, that is technically correct. He just knows that it has negative connotations so he says 'medicine' instead. "It is a prescription medication that neither I nor any of the doctors at the hospital ever recommended or prescribed for him. And it..." Garza shifts in his seat. "It is not something that we would have recommended for him either, given that it often does not interact well with the chemotherapy medication that he was properly prescribed."

Silence fills the office for a long moment, Javi absorbing the news and feeling the way that his stomach churns. "He was...he was poisoned?" He manages after a moment. "Is that what you are telling me? The king was murdered."

"It is not strictly what I would call a poisoning, sire." Dr. Garza interjects quickly, feeling panic strangle his own heart in a moment of intense irony. "But we need to determine where and how the king obtained this warfarin. You see..." Gods help him, he has to explain this to the man's son... "It was in the bottle that he had in his pocket. But the label was different. So either the king had replaced his diazepam with the warfarin that caused the blood clots that killed him...or someone else did."

"My father did not like taking medication." Javi reveals, frowning as he looks down at his hands, trying to think of what could have possibly happened. "He took what he had to, but he – he wouldn't – there's no way he would change his medications out." It feels like his chest is tightening and he shakes his head. "I— no, he couldn't have – Julius—" He turns towards the man who probably spent more time with the King than anyone else.

"An investigation will have to be opened." Julius advises solemnly, the tightness in his voice betraying just how troubling he finds this fact. "This could only have been done by someone close to the king, so I can only imagine that the royal guard will want to undertake the investigation personally. And as quietly as possible." He shakes his head, knowing that he will be a primary focus on the investigation early on. He hardly ever left King Miguel's side for the last few months. "As quietly as possible, sire," he advises again. "Or else whoever did this may flee."

Javi's eyes close and he takes a moment, needing it to relearn how to breathe. "Make it happen." He orders, opening his eyes again to look up at his assistant.

"Yes, your Majesty." Julius motions to Dr. Garza that the meeting is over, ushering him from the room, when he returns a moment later after escorting the doctor out of the ante-office, he returns with a solemn, drawn expression. "I would not mention this to anyone beside the princess," Julius cautions, knowing that the new king has chosen his wife-to-be to keep his secrets. "We cannot yet know who was involved."

"I don't know if I can tell her." Javi admits. The truth of this is just too horrific, but he doesn't know if he can honestly keep it to himself.

"This is a heavy fact to carry on your own, sire." Julius warns, though he understands that it is difficult to process. Or to speak the words aloud. "I would offer myself to keep this secret, but I know that I will be investigated heavily because of how close I was to your father. They will suspect me immediately simply because I had access to him." Shaking his head, Julius stands in front of the young king and his voice turns firm. "May I speak freely, your Majesty?" He asks with caution.

"I don't believe that you would have murdered my father." Javi admits quietly, not really meaning to speak his mind, but he is too off kilter to guard his words right now and he would rather be frank. "You loved him, there would have been nothing for you to gain." He frowns and remembers that the other man had asked to speak freely. "Yes, please speak your mind."

"That was all I was going to say," Julius murmurs, sitting down across from the younger man with a soft, melancholy smile. "That I loved your father very much, and that all of the best things in my life were things that he had had a hand in. He encouraged me to better myself, even in his employ, and even introduced me to my wife. I—" Julius shakes his head again. "I cannot possibly express my gratitude for everything your father did for me. So no, your Majesty. I never would have wanted him to leave this world. Not ever."

He had never known that. Not that his father had caused the introduction between Julius and his beloved wife. "I know." Javi nods. "I know that you would never harm him. But I need to know who would."

"Unfortunately, there are many candidates." It is not something anyone ever likes to contemplate – the thing that would cause someone to actually commit murder – and Julius shifts in his seat to look King Javier in the eyes. "But we will find the person who did. I am sure of it."

"I will be investigated as well." Javi seems almost surprised when he realizes that. "They will look into me for my father's death."

"Yes." Again, Julius nods. "And your princess, as well. But you will both be quickly eliminated. They will only suspect you formally so that they can say they overturned every possible angle." He does not believe that the young king had any hand in the misdeed whatsoever and he knows that the guard will not believe it either.

"Perhaps it is a good." He leans forward and wipes his face with his hand. "Looking at everyone. I don't want this person to get away with this."

"I cannot imagine that anyone does." Reluctantly, Julius stands again and smooths the trousers of his suit carefully. "I will bring the Head of the Guard to you, unless you would like some time to yourself before having that discussion?"

"Give me two minutes." Javi tells him quietly. He knows that he cannot fall apart, not now. He will wait until he has time alone with you.

"Of course, your Majesty." Julius goes out, intent on ordering a cup of tea from the kitchens to be delivered to the king immediately. There are some things that are just good for the soul, and that includes tea when one is upset.

The window of the study is actually a set of French doors that lead off to the rear of the palace, overlooking the gardens. He wonders how many times his father had decided to take a stroll to clear his mind.

For a few moments he stares off into the middle distance, contemplating taking a walk himself, before his personal cell phone buzzes in his pocket. It is not often that he gets a message there since few people actually have the number, but when your name flashes across the screen it is the best possible scenario for someone contacting him.

Margarita: Just wanted to see how you're doing and make sure that you're remembering to breathe. Te amo, querido! Julius says you're working through lunch, so I will see you for dinner tonight. ❤

He smiles down at the screen, already feeling slightly relieved at the message you sent him. Not knowing how you manage to do it, but you had an uncanny knack about putting him at ease. He takes a breath and types back his own message.

I am looking forward to dinner and even more, to sleeping in your arms again. I love you.

******

After breakfast, Flores quietly comes to your left shoulder and leans down. “Your Highness, the plane is twenty minutes out. Would you like to meet it on arrival? I can have one of the drivers take you in the car or in the boat if you would prefer.” She asks softly, making sure an obviously curious Lucas cannot overhear her.

“The boat would be wonderful.” To show your brother his first glimpse of the palace the same way you saw it sounds perfect, and it will be a little faster than taking a car. More direct, at least. Given the fact that you’re supposed to meet with the royal physician this morning, you can’t dally too much in picking up Sebastian.

“Of course, your Highness.” Flores loves the role of temporary assistant but doesn’t begrudge the addition of your brother to help manage your day to day affairs. She will be working closely with him and wonders what he is like. Hopefully he will be as kind as you are. “I will have the footmen travel to the airport with a truck large enough to carry back any and all personal items your brother might have brought.” She curtsies slightly and quickly backs away to carry out her tasks.

“Well, it seems as if that is my cue.” You had sat at the breakfast table with Maisie, Gabriela, and Lucas a little longer after Javi left for his meeting but it is time to get the day rolling. “Ladies, I will see you soon. Good morning, Count.”

Lucas narrows his eyes, wondering where you are scurrying off to. He doesn’t like being kept in the dark. “Gabriela.” He grunts. “Let’s go for a stroll in the gardens. It has been a while and I miss my wife.”

No one at the table believes that for a second, but Gabriela dutifully stands and excuses herself to follow him out the door. Maisie, left to her own devices until you return, decides to go and see what information she can put together on the style and color choices from the last few royal weddings as a resource for you. Reading and research are one of her strong suits and it will keep her busy for a time.

As promised, when you reach the dock, the same speedboat that had brought you across the small channel is waiting with a driver that is in a water friendly version of the drivers for all the palace cars. “Your Highness.” The swarthy man’s coloring is indicative of a man who spends his life on the water and he bows respectfully before he steps into the boat to offer you assistance climbing aboard. “The tower radioed. We will arrive five minutes before the jet lands if we push off now.”

“Thank you very much.” You are careful getting into the boat in a dress and heels but the man keeps you steady, waiting until you are seated to start off for the private landing strip at the airport. The sun is bright today but the weather is not too hot, making the breeze that blows over the water as your driver cuts through the waves seem very refreshing. If it were not for the impending funeral, you might be tempted to call the day’s atmosphere perfect. But there is much to do before perfect can even be thought of.

There’s not to be much conversation as the boat slices through the water but the driver cannot help but look back to check on the newest Princess. Curious about you and he smiles when he sees that you are soaking up the sun with your head back and your eyes closed for a moment. It seems as though you have a bit of the Prince’s spirit and that is a good thing in his opinion.

Sea air helps immensely as you try to shake off the mood Lucas left over the breakfast table, and by the time Valentino – you asked his name – cuts the boat’s engine at the dock you’re feeling much better. Sebastian’s arrival is only five minutes away and the only thing to remember is not to squeak and run down the strip to hug him. That would be…slightly less than dignified.

“I will wait with the boat, your Highness.” Valentino tells you before motioning towards the boat. “Would you like a drink while you wait?”

“If you tell me that you have a bar stashed in his boat somewhere, I shall be very entertained to see that one day.” You smile, and when the older man chuckles, you laugh with him. “Thank you, Valentino, but I am just fine. I will return to you with our other passenger in a few minutes.”

“Yes, your highness.” He smiles and bows again. There is a small bar built into the back of the control panel and perhaps the prince will show you since he loves to drive the boat around. For now, he will wait for you to return.

The jet is just taxiing on the runway when you reach it, and the difference between this morning and when you arrived a few days ago is stark. This morning you are wearing mourning clothes and a modest veil, but nothing in the world could disguise the ring on your finger or the way the guards on duty snap to attention when they see you. Your face has already been in the tabloids, so it is not exactly difficult for them to do so. Instead of saying anything you merely stand politely by, waiting for the door to open and expel your brother into the morning sun. Hopefully he’s slept on his flight. There is a lot to do today.

Sebastian adjusts his suit that he had quickly changed into. The jet had the bonus of a bedroom in it and he had been extremely grateful for the chance to try and sleep since he knows the first few days will be chaos. He will be learning a new regimen and new country in addition to dealing with a king’s death. Nodding to the stewardess, he thanks her and exits the jet, immediately looking around for his baby sister.

Stepping out into the middle of the runway once you see the familiar line of your brother’s trusty black suit, you give him a very polite wave instead of hopping forward like you want to. You’re on display now, and manners are everything, so as soon as Sebastian is in front of you, you mouth “Bow” at him silently. He looks at you with a half smirk before acquiescing, and only after that do you step forward with open arms to give your brother a hug.

It is very different having to bow to your sister, but Sebastian makes up for it with the crushing force of his hug. “God I missed you.” He admits, observing propriety by not swinging you around like he might have before. “How are you doing? How is he doing? What can I do to help?”

“I missed you too, Sebby.” The admittance and the force of hugging him is an enormous relief and you barely manage to stop yourself from giggling. “We’re doing pretty well, all things considered, but there is a lot to fill you in on. Let’s get back to the palace and I’ll get you as up-to-speed as I can until we’re alone. There is a lot going on.”

“Of course.” He nods and takes your arm. “Um…where is the car?” He asks, looking around and not seeing one.

“Did you honestly think I wasn’t going to give you the coolest arrival I possibly could?” You grin at him and steer him toward the docks, waving your arm grandly in presentation. “Valentino is taking us back in the boat, and you’re going to get the best view of the palace from the water. I promise.”

“Wow, seriously?” He asks, a boyish grin on his face as he takes in the sleek lines of the speedboat. “That’s mighty fancy, your Highness.” He teases. “All for little ol’ me?”

“Javi picked me up in it when I got here a few days ago.” And the mortification you felt at not recognizing him immediately is still burned into your brain. “But I figured…if you’re going to be working and living here, you might as well get the perks of how beautiful it is right off the bat.”

“That’s…incredibly romantic for a …how did you once put it?” Sebastian hums evilly. “I think you said that he was ‘a soulless, boring, impotent, stuck-up prick’.” He knows you were drunk and venting all your fears, but the soft smile on your face when you mention ‘Javi’ must be pounced on like only a sibling can.

“Oh my god, do not say shit like that out loud in public anymore,” you hiss, stifling a laugh because you know he’s quoting you exactly. “And for the record? I haven’t slept with him yet. I mean I’ve slept with him, like actual sleep, but his father just died. The mood is not exactly sexy.”

“But you want to.” That is surprising, considering you used to compare yourself to a sacrificial virgin having to be dragged to the marriage bed. You hadn’t been amused when he reminded you that you weren’t virginal.

“I—” Honestly you can’t even deny it, and you end up shrugging right before you get to the boat. “I really do. But I’ve waited this long. A little more time won’t kill me.”

“This long?” Your brother barks out a laugh. “He must be amazing.” He smirks. “My baby sister looks so happy.”

“He’s…really kind of extraordinary, if I’m honest.” You fluster as Valentino helps you into the boat and you settle back in your seat again. “I am happy, Sebby. I know it’s different than what I expected, but maybe that’s a good thing. Having my expectations subverted works for me, apparently.”

“Apparently.” He snorts, leaning back and watching you for a moment. “So, how are you handling it? You said you’re happy, but how’s the stress?”

"Some aspects are surprisingly less stressful than I had anticipated, others are more so." Motioning for him to sit down beside you, you thank Valentino as he sets off for the palace again without a word. "Like the first thing you'll be present for?" You murmur to your brother, lowering your voice. "Is an examination with the royal physician."

“Oh boy.” Seb pulls out his phone and opens his calendar. “Your last period was two and a half weeks ago, right?” He asks, confirming a date and then looking up at you for your answer.

"Yes, it was, and I am not going to pretend that your magical ability to always have chocolate and ice cream in the apartment at exactly the right time is not half my motivation for making you my personal assistant." That makes both of you laugh, and you get momentarily distracted by the shine of your engagement ring in the sunlight before you look back at your brother. "I'm...I'm honestly really glad you're here, Sebastian. The more I think about it, I don't know if I could do this without you."

“You’ll be running circles around me in no time, Princess.” He tells you with confidence. “You’ve always had the uncanny ability to immediately master something if you really want it. And this?” He cocks his head at you and gives you a brotherly smile. “You’ve decided that you want this.”

"I really do." It's almost a shock to your system to hear it put so bluntly, but you can't deny it. "He's wonderful. And he's going to be such a good king. Anything I can do to help him, I want to do all of it just to see him be brilliant at something so enormous."

“You will be brilliant at it as well.” Sebastian promises. “You have been born for this and now your heart is in it as well.”

"I think you'll like him." As the speedboat rounds the corner and the palace comes into view, you reach over and squeeze your brother's hand. "But first? Welcome to your new home."

“Oh wow.” His eyes widen and he has to stand, taking in the view is the magnificent palace, imagining that if it’s this stunning on the outside, it will be even more so on the inside. “It’s – you’re literally living out a fairy tale.”

"I really am." That releases a torrent of giggles from you, and you have to gather yourself up quickly to be princess-like again. Sebastian's reaction is everything to you, and you can't help but gaze up at the palace with the same awe. "Your room is technically in the staff wing but Javi let me choose the room myself. It's basically the size of our old apartment inside the palace."

“As it should be.” He decides, adopting a snooty tone playfully. “Seriously though? I’ll be fine anywhere as long as I have internet.”

"Fastest internet I've ever experienced in my life." You promise him as Valentino turns the speedboat around the corner of the cliffside and toward the dock for private palace use. For royal use. "Hopefully I'll get to introduce you to Javi's assistant fairly quickly. Julius is invaluable and I know you two have e-mailed back and forth a little but he really is just a miracle in human form."

“Who is your maid?” He asks, scrolling through his information. “Flores? She would be the one to ask about attire and things like that until I get my bearings?”

"Flores is a godsend." As the palace gets closer and closer, you feel yourself taking a surprising breath of relief. As if you had missed it for the thirty or so minutes you were gone. "You'll meet her right away. Between the two of you I really think you'll be able to cover all the bases pretty easily. And then there's my ladies in waiting for all the other bits of guidance."

“Ladies in waiting.” Shaking his head, he marvels over the way your life has changed. “I’m sure I will get to know them as well.”

"It's a whole new world here, big brother." You hum as the speedboat comes to a graceful stop at the dock. "And I think you're actually going to like it."

******

Dinner is stuffy and formal due to new arrivals in the palace. Extended family has come to the capital and will be staying through the funeral and your crowning, though they were polite enough not to interrogate you directly at the table. As soon as you could politely get away, you took Javi's arm and happily let him lead you away to have a cocktail together on your balcony. Another pitcher of that delicious Clover Club Cocktail and two glasses will be waiting for you to unwind with.

Every step towards the seclusion of the balcony that he has been sharing with you brings a little nervousness for Javi. It's a good possibility that it would become a tradition, one that he would enjoy immensely and tonight his heart is heavy with the knowledge that he has. Although he knows he needs to tell you, it's not something that he wants to start, keeping secrets. But how does one tell them that they will be investigated for a king's murder?

"You seem distracted, querido." It's just a small observation, but he had seemed to have a dark cloud over his head all through dinner. "If you do not have the energy to go to the vault after your day I will more than understand."

"No." His expression clears and he sends you a smile as he reaches over and pats your hand. "I feel as though the happiness of the moment will be much needed in the coming days." He admits softly. "My apologies if I have been negligent in attention."

“Not at all.” You shake your head and sip your drink, but turn to give him your full attention on the balcony. “Can you tell me what is upsetting you?”

"I met with my father's doctor today." He tells you quietly, looking down at his drink and sighing. "There will be an official inquiry in King Miguel's murder."

"Murder?" Hissing the word on the quietest whisper you can summon, you feel like your heart has stopped beating and it's a miracle you don't completely drop your cocktail. "My god. Javi, I'm— are you okay?" Setting the glass aside, you immediately reach for him to offer the comfort that you've already learned he craves. You're very alike in that way. "They're certain that it was intentional?"

"He— his medications were in purposefully tampered with. What was in the bottle was not the prescription and my father did not like taking medicine to begin with." Javi explains.

"Shit..." The word drags out as you shake your head, and you take a moment to breath as Javi leans into your arms out on the balcony. "I'm so sorry, love. So, so sorry." What else do you even say? His father was intentionally killed. Assassinated. It's completely beyond belief.

"They— they are going to question you." He decides you need to know everything about it. "Question me. I would rather they insult my integrity than for someone to get away with taking the last few weeks I had with my father away from me."

"Of course they will." You nod, albeit slowly, and gently squeeze his arms as he leans against you. "They should question everyone who had something to benefit from your father's death. Of course that includes us." Perhaps it is a particularly American point of view, but you don't even consider it an insult of integrity. It's just being thorough, and you can't even imagine a world in which this investigation is not thorough.

He sighs softly, relieved that you understand. He had been worried that you wouldn't, and resist an investigation, which would only make them look into you more. "They will exclude us quickly. It was never a secret about my desire to not be king."

"I imagine they will look into me much more deeply." A fact which, again, does not bother you. In fact you're fairly surprised at how unbothered you truly feel. It isn't even for Javi's benefit. "If the people do not know that their kings have arranged marriages already, they will find out soon enough."

"You have just arrived, and had few meetings with the king." Javi is sure they will clear you out of their questions. You did not kill his father.

"Javi." With one hand on his cheek, you offer him the most reassuring smile you can possibly muster in this moment. "I did not kill your father, and I had absolutely no reason to want to hurt him. But the investigation has to treat me as an equal suspect to everyone else, which means they will look into me in every way. And that definitely includes how you and I met." A few days is no time at all, and it will not take them long to clear your name from the list, but it still has to happen.

"I know." He leans into your touch and presses his forehead against yours. "I love you, Margarita. I don't know if I would be this calm if you weren't here."

"I love you, too, querido." It is deeply, earth-shakingly true, and you lean in to press a kiss to his cheek. "We will get through this, and we will see the person responsible punished." Somehow you're certain of that, and it's a strength that you'll have to draw on in the weeks or even months to come. Depending on how long the investigation takes. "And in the meantime, it is our job to set an example for the people. To give them good things to look forward to despite the gloom."

"Which is why we need to keep our plan to visit the dungeon." Javi insists. "Our plans should not change because of this."

"Then how about we have a drink and go downstairs?" You suggest, wrapping one arm around his waist. "We can have our second glass when we come back up, before we crawl into bed?"

"That sounds like a perfect ending to a rather stressful day." He admits quietly. "Although one day, I swear you will be tired of me."

"I find that highly unlikely, handsome." Picking up your glass again, you raise it to him in a small salute and take a sip. "I don't remember Cinderella ever getting tired of Prince Charming in the fairy tales."

"That's because the movie ends at the 'happily ever after'." Javi jokes. "You don't see where Prince Charming snores or does other things in his sleep. Or chews with his mouth open."

"What else do you do in your sleep besides cuddle me?" Deciding to turn the conversation to something distracting like silliness, you raise one eyebrow at him and smirk. "And get morning wood, of course."

“I don’t know, I’m asleep.” He cannot believer that his face does not burst into flames it is so hot. “And I— I apologize again for that. I should not have pressed it against you.”

"You don't need to apologize." He had been embarrassed by it this morning but you waved it off, and now you simply smile. "Honestly I might have been more upset if it wasn't there," you tease gently. "At least I know you were having good dreams."

“I dreamed of you.” He admits, reaching for your hand. “And I know that if it was under different circumstances, I would ask to touch you.”

"There's no pressure for it to happen until you're absolutely ready," you promise him, watching your fingers lace through his as he holds your hand. "But when you're ready, I can all but guarantee that I will be, too."

“You want me?” Perhaps it shouldn’t be surprising, but it is. Surprising in the light that he’s aware of his own appeal but had thought that it would be something that was admitting later on, after time was spent together.

Charmed by the sweet softness of his reaction, you nod gently and shift slightly closer to him on the balcony as you sip your drinks together. “Badly,” you admit with a laugh. “But I’ll happily wait as long as you need. There really is no pressure.”

“There’s pressure.” Javi snorts, grinning when you do giggle. “But I want our first time to be free of the black cloud over us right now.”

“So maybe I should say that there’s no rush,” you clarify. “I had my appointment with the royal physician today, by the way. Officially not pregnant. But I knew that already.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through such an exam.” He apologizes, picking up your free hand and kissing it.

“The doctor was very polite, and it was done quickly. Honestly? I wish all gynecologist exams were a simple ultrasound and a pee test.” Given what they really are like, you just shrug and offer Javi a smile. “And now it’s done. So the decision of when to take the next step is purely up to us.”

“I want it to happen naturally.” Javi admits quietly, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you close. “Not because of anything but that you and I want each other.”

“It will be. Whenever we’re ready.” You’re certainly not about to pressure him, and you tilt your head back to kiss his cheek softly. “But until then, I do like waking up in your arms.”

He hums, happy that you enjoy being close to him because your presence calms him down and he has slept through the night when he hadn't expected to sleep at all. "Let’s go look at every woman's favorite thing." He teases. "Jewelry."

“I’m not even going to debate you on that.” The two of you finish your first glasses together and he leads the way – down into the bowels of the palace to the vault where the Crown Jewels are kept.

"The dungeon was converted around the time of my great-grandfather." Javi tells you as the stone walls start to slowly get closer and the electrical runs in conduit since it was obviously added after construction. "The security has improved, but I don't think anyone really wants to break into a dungeon. For obvious reasons."

"They would if they knew what was down here." There are soldiers posted along the long hallway – palace security wearing a badge of special significance, and you follow their lead by returning their small nods of acknowledgement on your way to the main door. A broad man with an unmoving expression takes one look at the pair of you and moves to unlock the door with an elaborate code.

"Anything and everything in here can be worn." He explains. "Although some are used for special occasions only."

"Good lord..." You murmur, gasping softly as you look around the twinkling room at all of the gems winking back at you in their soft, golden lighting. "I didn't think there would be so much!"

"It is a lot, isn't it?" Javi asks as he looks around, trying to see it through someone’s eyes who has never seen it before.

"I mean it's beautiful, it's just...a whole lot." Your hand is still in his, and you tug him forward a little so that you're both fully inside the middle of the room. "Do you want to show me your mother's tiara, querido?"

Of course he does. “It is over here, with my father’s— my crown.” The lights shine on the pair as they sit on crushed velvet pillows.

There is a trio of headpieces under the brightest light in the dungeon. King Miguel's preferred crown sits beside a more petite version of its magnificence, and beside that there is a glamorous tiara of countless carefully carved diamonds in a combination of shapes and sizes to create a repeated teardrop pattern that takes your breath away.

"It's gorgeous," you sigh, equal parts afraid to go anywhere near it and wishing you could reach out and touch it.

“Perhaps you should try on the others first.” Javi offers, pushing a button on the wall so that it slides open and rows of tiara’s and crowns appear. “So you can say you didn’t just choose the first one.”

"I don't think anyone could blame me for choosing the first option, but I'm also not about to protest looking at more tiaras..." It's such a surreal thing to say, and you cling a little more tightly to Javi's hand as he walks you over to the wall that just popped open in every conceivable way. "Do you have a favourite?" You ask him, eyes drifting over the large collection. "Besides your mother's, I mean?"

“I do.” Javi moves over to the case and selects a specific on. It’s too elegant for his more causal dinner suit. The sapphires that are in the middle shine like fire, surrounded by the diamonds. “This one.”

"Oh wow..." In the back of your head you have a feeling that you're probably not going to be able to manage full sentences which each of these gorgeous pieces of jewelry, but you inspect the twinkling sapphires and diamonds in his hands with wide eyes. "I—I can wear whatever one you want," you promise him, knowing that the moment you are crowned will be caught on camera to be added to Balearican history books. "As long as you're proud to be putting it on my head, the tiara can look like anything."

“Whichever one you wish, my Princess.” He murmurs, smiling at the awed expression on your face. “They will all look lovely atop your head.”

"I can't believe I actually get to wear one of these," you admit with a sheepish grin. "That you actually want me to wear one. With everything that it means..."

“There is no one else I wish to wear it.” Javi murmurs softly. It’s true, even as much as he had cared for Gabriela, you have come to mean more. His father had been right that he would move on after she and Lucas had been married.

"I love you, too." Even murmured into the darkness, it is such a relief to mean it so deeply. For almost your entire life you were terrified that it might not happen, and now here you are. Completely in love with him in a mere two days.

“You will be a queen who is beloved by her people.” Javi predicts with a smile. “And her king.”

“I truly hope so.” Although it might be awful to admit, in this moment, that his love currently means far more to you. It is only because you have not yet had a chance to really be a part of this kingdom — only of his life.

“So, do you have anything that speaks to you?” He asks curiously. “My mother said her favorite tiara spoke to her. She wore others, but that was the one she wore most.”

“I think something a little less grand calls to me,” you confess. It is almost like the feeling tells you that modesty will be an immense virtue in this case. There is one on the second shelf that is composed of small, winking diamonds and scrolling gold so that it almost looks like curls if you think about it on someone’s head. It is delicate and elegant without being too small or understated. “Wearing your mother’s tiara for the crowning will be the most appropriate, but I believe that this one,” you point it out carefully. “Might be my favourite?”

“Elegant, understated and sophisticated.” Javi takes the crown from the shelf with care and he smiles down at it. “Try it on?” He asks, looking up at you.

“Is that…okay?” It seems like the sort of thing that belongs untouched in a museum even though you know logically that these things are just incredibly expensive and elaborate jewelry. Jewelry that is meant to be worn.

“Margarita, all of these jewels are to be worn by the royal family. Which you are now a part of.” He reminds you. “It is perfectly okay. If you wanted to wear a tiara while in your pajamas and drinking wine, it would be okay.”

“That sounds like the most decadent idea you could possibly have.” And you can’t help but laugh at it, feeling light and giggly at the image.

“Perhaps.” He chuckles. “You might like to have a party like “The Princess Diaries 2.” He jokes, remembering the Princess sleepover party that had actually seemed pretty cute.

“A bachelorette party of preteen princesses?” That makes you laugh again, and you eye the tiara in his hands. “I didn’t think real princesses had bachelorette parties.”

“Real princesses can have any kind of bachelorette party they want.” Javi reveals. “There is normally a press blackout on those days. And it’s held somewhere that is discreet.”

“Hmm.” Pretending to think very hard about it, you end up grinning. “So not Vegas, then? I would never consider Vegas discreet, although they do say that whatever happens there, stays there.”

“I have always wanted to visit.” His eyes widen at the thought and he grins. “Although I’m sure you would want to go to Monte Carlo.”

“Is Monte Carlo better?” The way his eyes widen makes you want to promise you’ll take him to the States immediately, but you know that that is tricky. Especially right now. “I don’t know anything except that it’s supposed to be very fancy.”

“It is. But it’s less…flashy than Las Vegas? At least that’s what I’ve heard. I’ve been to Monte Carlo many times and I’ve enjoyed it a lot.”

“I guess we’ll have to see what we want to do.” You will encourage the thought constantly, though, knowing that he has spent a long time being denied things. Adventure within reason should not exclude some safe travel destinations. “Both of us.”

“A— a joint thing?” He asks in surprise. Delighted surprise, but surprise.

“It can be whatever we want.” The gentle reminder that he makes his own decisions now does not go awry, and you don’t harp on the fact that it’s because his father has died, either. “We can certainly do something together if that is what you want.”

“I think that we should decide when it comes. First we have to get through the other pressing matters.” Javi tells you, guiding you towards the mirror that is gilded and has been in the family for years. “Now, see what you will look like wearing your tiara.”

It seems like the air is sucked out of the room when he turns you to face the mirror, and frames himself against your back to set the delicate tiara on your head for the very first time. Its scrolls and shimmering diamonds look brilliant in the low light, winking back at you in the gilded mirror and making you look nearly ethereal. Before this moment you would have said it was silly to talk or think that way, but here you are – standing in front of a mirror and gasping at the image in front of you so earnestly that you actually might shed a tear.

“Beautiful.” He whispers, his fingers trailing along your shoulders to rest there. “The Princess that will become queen. My bride to be. My margarita.”

______

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