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musicforastylesrestaurant · 5 months

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Santa’s Grotto.

my masterlist || ask me anything <3

my blurb masterlist is here!

authors note - long hair harry makes me feral ngl, so enjoy him taking his son to go and see santa:)

word count - 1.3k

in which, harry takes his two year old son, sebastian, to go and see santa because your at home sick from the flu, but it doesn’t go aswell as he hoped seeing as all little kids appear to have a phobia of the man dressed in red.

At eighteen, Harry Styles embraced the profound reality of parenthood when his son, Sebastian Robin-Edward Styles was born. Sleepless nights became a routine as Harry devoted himself to the care of his newborn. The dim glow of nightlights and lullabies filled the early hours, creating a tender atmosphere of fatherly dedication.

The exhaustion was palpable, yet Harry wouldn't trade those sleepless nights for anything. Each bleary-eyed moment was a testament to the deep love he felt for Sebastian. The bond forged during those quiet hours of feeding, soothing, and comforting became the foundation of an unbreakable connection.

Harry often looked back on those moments when he spent time with his now two year old son, who was turning more and more into a close friend of his as the minutes of the day ticked by.

In the heart of the bustling mall, Harry stood patiently in line at Santa's grotto, his two-year-old son, Sebastian, cradled in his arms. The air was filled with the warm scent of cinnamon and the soft murmur of excited chatter as families eagerly awaited their turn. The line snaked around, adorned with festive decorations that captured Sebastian's wide-eyed attention.

Harry's long hair served as an unintentional playground for his son, who gleefully tugged at the strands while fixating on the mesmerizing twinkling lights overhead.

As they edged closer to the front, Harry observed the diverse array of families sharing in the holiday spirit. Laughter and anticipation filled the air, creating a joyful atmosphere that enveloped both father and son.

Sebastian, blissfully unaware of the world beyond the enchanting lights, continued to marvel at the vibrant surroundings, his tiny fingers entangled in Harry's locks.

The anticipation heightened as they approached the entrance to Santa's magical realm. Harry, with a loving smile, gently adjusted Sebastian in his arms, ensuring the little one had the best view of the enchanting scene.

The elves, adorned in festive attire, orchestrated the seamless flow of families, adding to the enchantment that surrounded them. As they neared the front of the line, the duo's excitement mirrored that of the other children and parents, all eagerly awaiting their moment with the jolly man in red.

As Harry and Sebastian reached the front of the queue, a friendly elf with a sprightly demeanor greeted them.

"Well, hello there! Looks like we've got a special visitor today," the elf exclaimed, a twinkle in their eye.

Sebastian, however, suddenly grew shy, burying his face in the crook of Harry's neck, his tiny hands clutching onto the strands of his father's hair.

Harry chuckled warmly, gently coaxing Sebastian to face the friendly elf. "S’okay, buddy. S’nice elf just wants t’say hello."

He lifted Sebastian slightly, revealing a bashful smile on the toddler's face.

The elf, undeterred by Sebastian's shyness, continued to engage them, "Santa's been eagerly waiting to meet you, little one. What's your name?"

Sebastian mumbled a soft reply, his words muffled by the safety of Harry's neck.

The elf, playing along, nodded with exaggerated excitement. "Ah, Sebastian! That's a fantastic name for someone about to meet Santa. I bet you've been a good little helper this year, haven't you?"

Sebastian, gaining a bit more confidence, peeked out from his hiding spot and shyly nodded.

Harry joined the conversation, appreciating the effort to make Sebastian feel comfortable.

"He's been such a good boy, especially with all the twinkling lights and holiday cheer around here." Harry answered, brushing some of his son's curls out of his face.

The elf grinned, "That's wonderful to hear! Santa loves hearing about good boys like Sebastian. Well, it won't be long now before you get to share all your wishes with him."

As they chatted, the atmosphere in Santa's grotto remained festive and lively. The elf skillfully transitioned the conversation to holiday traditions, asking Harry and Sebastian about their favourite parts of the season.

Harry shared stories of their family traditions, and before they knew it, it was time to approach Santa's chair.

The elf gestured toward the magical seat, "Sebastian, are you ready to meet the big man himself?"

As Harry and Sebastian entered Santa's tent, a festive air surrounded them. The scent of evergreen and cinnamon filled the space, and the anticipation was palpable.

Santa, with a hearty chuckle, welcomed them, "Ho, ho, ho! Well, hello there! Who do we have here?"

With a gentle smile, Harry bent down to encourage Sebastian onto Santa's lap. However, as Sebastian neared the red-suited figure, he clung tightly to Harry, his eyes wide with trepidation.

"S’okay, Seb. Santa's a friend," Harry reassured, attempting to ease his son's nervousness.

Sebastian, unconvinced, buried his face in Harry's shoulder, his tiny hands gripping onto his father's shirt. Santa, with a twinkle in his eye, chimed in,

"Ah, a little shy, are we? That's perfectly normal. How about we start with a high-five?" He extended a gloved hand toward Sebastian, hoping to initiate a connection.

Despite Santa's friendly gesture, Sebastian's anxiety escalated, and a whimper escaped him. Harry, now kneeling beside Santa's chair, continued to comfort his son,

"S’alright, buddy. Y’don't have t’do anything y’not comfortable with. Santa understands." However, as the tension lingered, Sebastian's anxiety reached its peak, and tears welled up in his eyes.

Santa, ever understanding, offered a warm smile, "No need to worry, little one. Sometimes meeting new friends can be a bit overwhelming. How about you tell me what you want for Christmas?”

In a last-ditch effort to salvage the moment, Harry took a seat on the chair next to Santa, with Sebastian on his lap. However, Sebastian, caught in the throes of a full-blown meltdown, wriggled and squirmed, attempting to escape the clutches of the man in the red suit.

The cheerful atmosphere of the grotto seemed to fade as Sebastian's desperation escalated.

Harry, his patience wearing thin, held onto his son, attempting to soothe the uncontrollable distress. The once-anticipated visit to Santa's lap had turned into a struggle, and Sebastian's tears mirrored the disappointment in the air.

The twinkling lights and festive decorations, which had captivated Sebastian earlier, were now lost in the midst of his overwhelming emotions.

Despite Harry's attempts to offer comfort, Sebastian's distress showed no signs of abating. The scene unfolded like a poignant tableau of a well-intentioned holiday moment gone awry.

The contrast between the joyful ambiance and Sebastian's emotional turmoil painted a bittersweet picture, one that highlighted the unpredictability of childhood emotions in the face of holiday expectations.

With Sebastian in the midst of a tearful meltdown, Harry looked apologetically at Santa, a mixture of frustration and regret etched on his face. "M’sorry. M’thought he'd be excited, but it seems like s’all a bit overwhelming f’him."

Santa, with a warm and understanding smile, nodded reassuringly. "No need to apologise,. Happens more often than you might think. Children, especially the little ones, can find meeting Santa a bit overwhelming. It's all part of the holiday experience."

In a gesture of comfort, Harry gently lifted Sebastian from his lap, cradling him in his arms. The tears continued to flow, and Sebastian sought solace in his father's embrace, burying his face in Harry's neck.

The soft strands of his long hair became a source of comfort as Sebastian clutched onto them, the rhythmic playing a small distraction from the overwhelming emotions.

Harry, his heart heavy with empathy, whispered reassurances to his son, "S’okay, buddy. Everything s’okay."

He swayed gently, attempting to ease Sebastian's distress. The bustling grotto faded into the background as the connection between father and son took center stage, the soothing hush of whispered comforts filling the air.

Sebastian's cries gradually softened, but he continued to hold onto his father, finding security in the familiar embrace. Harry, understanding the need for patience, remained steadfast, allowing the moment to unfold naturally.

Feeling the weight of Sebastian in his arms, Harry looked down at his tear-streaked face and whispered, "Shall we go home and see Mummy?"

Sebastian, still clinging to his father, nodded in response, his small thumb finding its way into his mouth. The simple gesture revealed a longing for the familiar comfort of home and the soothing presence of his mother.

With a shared understanding, Harry began to make his way out of the festive grotto, holding Sebastian close. The twinkling lights and holiday cheer gradually faded as they exited, leaving behind the whirlwind of emotions that had marked their encounter with Santa.

As they stepped into the crisp winter air, Harry tightened his grip on his son, ready to bring him back to the warmth and familiarity of home.

Sebastian's thumb remained in his mouth, a silent signal of the need for reassurance and comfort. Harry, with each step, whispered words of comfort, promising the solace of home and the embrace of Mummy waiting there.

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yan-lorkai · 2 months

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Hello!This is my first time ever requesting.I don't know do you accept these kind of y/n,but may I ask for a Ciel Phantomhive x reader?Where the reader is giving Lana Del Rey vibes and enjoy writing poems and song for both herself and Ciel.

(I don't know if there is any chance that you know who Lana del Rey is.But if you do or you are willing to get to know her then I will very much appreciate it!Thank you!)

☆*: A/N: Oh... I had written this and left on queue quite a while to be posted, queue didn't posted. I'm sorry darling, so I just go ahead and post this now. I had tons of fun writing this bcs I used to listen to Lana's song a lot when I was younger, still do sometimes. I hope you like it! :3

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ There was something special about you that enchanted him from the first time you met and the more he got to know you, the happier he was to spend time in your presence. From the way you dress to the way you act and talk, you were so peaceful to be around, so serene and graceful. Ciel likes to observes every little detail and he is enchanted by everything that makes you, well, you.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ When he found out you writed poems and songs he was curious and asked you about it. If you aren't comfortable with the idea of sharing them, he wouldn't pressure you but he was so lucky that you wanted to share with, you were happy to have a second opinion on them. Ciel loved your voice when you read all the little poems and songs you written about yourself, about him and about life, about your dreams and hopes. And alone in his office he often remember them when he need some extra motivation to finish his work just so he can seek you out to hang out a little.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Hearing your sing was a blessing, a sign that there was still something to work for, to make England safer just so you could live happily and unaware about life's difficulties. He liked to watch your face change from expression to expression, liked how your tone changed when you sang. By the way, I think he would love born to die, once upon a dream and dark paradise.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ He asks Sebastian to play the piano or violin just so you can get some instrumental following you. He isn't much of a dancer but if you wanted, Ciel could lead you on a waltz. Sofly, almost as sofly as your voice, magic as your songs, unique as your poems, wonderful. He loved this aspect of you, the poems, the songs, everything and he is very happy you shared everything with him.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ While he'd love to have you sing only for him, if you want to pursue a career in the industry, then he'll put in a word for you and arrange some meetings. And when you become famous, because he knows you can do it, he happily goes to your concerts with a smile on his face.

#yandere kuroshitsuji #yandere black butler #yandere ciel #yandere ciel phantomhive #yandere ciel x reader #ciel x reader #ciel phantomive #ciel phamtonhive x reader #yandere ciel phantomhive x reader

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wisted-twunderland · 10 months

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TWST boys go to Disneyland!

Heartslabyul

Ace: Is an absolute fiend on the teacups and knows which one spins the fastest (the orange diamond) and how to really get it spinning.

Deuce: Gets spun too fast on the teacups by Ace and throws up. When he feels better he enjoys being the Pilot on Smuggler's Run.

Cater: Documents the whole thing on Magicam in real time. He gets all of the classic shots, like the selfie in front of the castle, holding up the Dole Whip in front of the Tiki Room, etc.

Trey: Spends a lot of time on Main Street sampling all the different confectionaries. Also sits with Deuce after he throws up.

Riddle: Will ride the Alice in Wonderland ride and talk about all the historical inaccuracies to anyone who will listen.

Savannaclaw

Leona: He's been dragged here too many times with his nephew and made to ride all the kiddie rides, so he'd rather skip the whole thing and nap in the hotel room. But when he is inevitably dragged to the park, he enjoys the atmosphere of Adventureland and eats an unreal amount of meat skewers from Bengal Barbeque.

Ruggie: Doesn't go because it's too expensive. Nah I'm just kidding, he goes, but he definitely packs all his own food. Goes through the bakery tour and the Ghirardelli factory tour for the free bread and chocolate until he's told he can't have any more free samples.

Jack Howl: He likes Frontierland best, because it's the least crowded (and the cactus landscaping is exceptional).

Octavinelle

Azul: He's not big on rides, but he really enjoys scouring the historical showcases at the front of the park. As the owner of his own up and coming mega-conglomerate, he is eager to glean any information he can about the park and its rise to fame (and fortune).

Jade: He's very eager to get a selfie in from the yellow mushroom in Fantasyland, claiming its because of its historical significance. (Did you know it used to be a ticket booth?)

Floyd: Rides any and all of the roller coasters as many times as possible. Is not above pushing past little kids to run to the next ride.

Scarabia

Kalim: Is as excited as any kid there. Wants to see and do everything, and cries at the fireworks at the end of the day.

Jamil: Spends most of his time trying to keep up with Kalim and make sure he drinks some water once in a while. Enjoys the music and the parade more than he lets on.

Pomfiore

Vil: Enjoys the park from under a sun parasol, UV shades, and a high SPF sunscreen. He HATES that Snow White's Scary Adventure has been turned into *~*Snow White's Enchanted Wish*~*. The kids of today are WEAK.

Rook: He is hunting aiming to meet as many characters as possible and get them to sigh in his hit signature book.

Epel: Makes it his goal to sample every kind of candy apple in each of its differently decorated forms (Poor bear apple, Mickey ears apple, marshmallow apple, baby yoda apple, etc). Also a roller coaster fanatic.

Ignihyde

idia: Rides Buzz Lightyear's Astro Blaster's over and over trying to beat the all time high score (it's his). Knows where all the best targets are and can turn the cart with one hand while shooting with the other. ("This is the OG of interactive rides, even though Toy Story Mania may be more modern, this ride paved the way. At the time getting your picture taken and sending it to friends via email was unheard of but this ride blah blah blah blah...)

Ortho: Enjoys Pirates of the Carribean for its theming and "primitive robotics". Likes Great Moments with Mr. Lincoln for the same reason.

Diasomnia

Malleus: Will purchase and consume a Mickey shaped ice cream bar at every opportunity (He knows where all the ice cream carts are by the end of trip). He finds Fantasia amusing and says that the dragon is a "passable likeness".

Lillia: He's amazed at how much the park has changed since he was last here ("Star Wars Land? That area used to be a petting zoo.") Enjoys Haunted Mansion and startling Sebek in the queue.

Sebek: "We need to make sure we use our Lightning Lane at precisely 3:30, and then we must get to Goofy's Kitchen immediately after for our character dining experience, after which we must reserve our spot for the fireworks..." He's extremely concerned with getting the most out of the trip and ensuring that Malleus has a good time (Malleus doesn't care).

Silver: Enjoys the Sleeping Beauty walkthrough, as it is dark, full of vintage charm, and uncrowded. Falls asleep before the fireworks ever start.

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elly99 · 4 months

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Just Another Night

The queue to check in was long at the hotel you were staying.

When you had been told about this city, this was not quite what they were saying.

But what was that Saying exactly, if not the misconceptions of the majority?

Who say it's the city of romance, love and, like, beauty?

They'd probably never been to Paris, really.

Because it was hard to picture all of that, taking an overpriced taxi.

Or the metro that you were certain doubled as a sewer.

And seeing the swarms of tourists along Champs-Élysées lining up to buy bags or whatever.

So what was it, really? What did everyone come here to find?

And what was it you were expecting an ideal night in Paris to be?

Well, if we're talking about Ideals, only one name comes to mind.

And of course it's her. It's Kim Minji.

So you imagine that Ideal. You imagine her just ahead of you in the queue.

And she happens to be here, right now, in the same city, at the same hotel, because she's here to see you.

Wait, no. This is your imagination, sure, but you'd still like to be realistic. Yes, that's what you'd like to do.

So you tell yourself she'd be here for work. And if you asked her what she thought, she'd probably think that was more realistic, too.

So, she's here for work and you're also here, just by complete chance.

And she finishes checking in and happens to shoot you a glance.

And she's here for work, but of course she's here alone, without her manager.

Because you like to be realistic, except when it comes to thinking about her.

Just like in high school when you thought you could ask her out.

But to her, you were just The One Sitting Two Rows Behind, no doubt.

That's beside the point, though, because she's here now and she's staring straight at you.

Checking to make sure that it's really Her Classmate From A Year Ago Or Two.

She walks over to you and you walk over to her, leaving your place in line as you do.

Because, with her right in front of you, there can be nowhere else to go to.

And she's smiling with those eyes, the ones that had you enchanted, enthralled, enraptured and all that.

And she's happy to see you, it seems, and she wants to have a chat.

The typical How are yous and I'm goods are exchanged.

A predetermined sequence of words that someone else arranged.

That should be awkwardly repeated whenever you meet Someone From Way Back When.

Or, in this case, when you happen to meet the girl who was your High School Crush then.

But we all know you never stopped liking her. You were in love and you always had been.

A Crush, evidently, does exactly what it says on the tin.

Because you feel again now that familiar pressure in your chest. That Feeling you feel whenever she's near.

And after not seeing her for so long (she's more stunning than you remember), you're falling all over again, you fear.

You're falling but this time she catches you. She has something important to say.

She says, "You can check in later. Wanna hang out in my room?" Stunned, you manage an Okay.

So you two are alone, heading to her room in an elevator.

You think to yourself, "What if someone finds out about this later?"

But she leaves you no time to think as her hand brushes yours.

And suddenly you want the building to have an infinite number of floors.

Because her hair is tucked behind her ear just so.

So you can see her neck and watch all her skin glow.

Stupidly but slowly, you lean in.

And she turns to you with this stupid grin.

An I've-got-you-now grin that's just so sly.

You have no other choice now but to comply.

And her eyes say something like, "I want you, too."

And the next thing you know, she's kissing you.

Her perfume. It's Chanel. Chance, Eau Vive.

And she smells so good, like you wouldn't believe.

Then you're in her room and she's in your embrace.

And you finally get it, why people love this place.

Because Paris is Paris. It's the City of Love.

And you found her here under the stars above.

But the morning comes and reality sinks in.

Your mind has been wandering somewhere it shouldn't have been.

She says, "See you around," but those weren't the three words you wanted to hear.

You know she'd never say them. You know you'd never hold her near.

So in response, you whisper, "I wish you were mine."

Because it was just another night in Paris and you were still stuck in the line.

#minji x reader #minji #minji new jeans #kim minji x reader #newjeans x reader

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do-it-jakey-baby · 4 months

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An Unlikely Encounter

Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Synopsis: it is your first time attending a Greta Van Fleet gig by yourself, what happens next was only ever a figment of your wildest imagination.

Warnings: smut, drinking, language

18+, MINORS DNI

Chapter 2

Chapter 1

3.5k word count

“Ok, the doors are opening up. Please enter the building in an orderly fashion!”

Your heart pounded against your ribcage. You were sure that if the room were quieter, the sheer magnitude of thumps would rattle off the walls into thundery echoes. The screaming around you transformed into white noise as you tried to steady yourself amongst the movement.

The doors opened.

Pushed and shoved from all angles, you managed to find yourself quickly enough to propel forwards into a sprint. You weren’t the fittest of people, occasionally enjoying a trip to the gym here and there, but that didn’t stop you from treating this moment like you were an Olympian going for the gold. This was most certainly not your first Greta Van Fleet concert, but it was your first time being at the front of the standing queue. As you hit the barricade and came to a stop, your breath hitched in your throat. Did I really make barricade? You thought as your eyes widened. Holy fucking shit.

The supporting acts seemed to fly by in some dream-like state, and you were still spiralling at the mere thought of being metres away from the band by the time the crowd erupted into a symphony of screeches and wails. As you came to, you could hear a classical overture playing sweetly. You recognised the melody as it morphed from one familiar tune to the next, growing louder to emphasise that the curtain would soon drop. You stared up in anticipation as the overture reached its climax and watched eagerly as four figures emerged. They immediately launched into “The Falling Sky” and Josh’s powerful vocals filled the arena, drawing each and every person in like a siren’s deadly song. You were so enchanted by this that you didn’t notice who had made their way across the stage and was standing directly in front of you.

Jake fucking Kiszka.

There he was, like a shining deity before you. Sweat glistening on his bare chest, his hair softly swishing with every movement, his calloused hands meticulously strumming each chord. Was this a dream? Was Jake Kiszka actually standing right in front of you? Before you could even realise what was happening, your eyes met. You felt a searing warmth spreading across your cheeks, a shy smile playing on your lips. He smiled back, then his eyes moved away as he turned to travel across the stage and meet his brother at the centre.

What the fuck.

In all the times you’d been to see the band, you had never ever made eye contact with one of the boys. Let alone Jake. Jake plagued your thoughts frequently and refused to leave your dreams. His beautiful face that seemed to be carved by literal angels lingered in every corner of your mind. You force yourself back to reality, silently reminding yourself to be present and enjoy the evening, and you do. The atmosphere is electric, you sway along with thousands of fans and scream out the lyrics until your throat stings. Towards the end of the show, as Josh makes his way along the barricade, you reach out and his hand brushes yours. As you make contact, he looks you up and down and winks before making his exit.

What was that about? You think to yourself curiously.

As the night draws to a close, and the band is finishing up their encore, you close your lips around your fingers and send a piercing wolf whistle towards the stage. Jake’s eyes clap onto yours, sending shockwaves through your entire body. He blows you a kiss and your vision slowly fades to darkness.

You’re snapped back into reality when the bitter cold air hits your lungs. Somehow, you’ve made it outside the venue, and you’re stood alone clutching your bag and phone. A text buzzes and lights up the screen, which makes you jump and then subsequently tut with annoyance at the reaction. It’s your best friend. She usually comes with you to Greta gigs, but she’s been held up with work recently, so it’s your first time attending alone.

How was it? So fucking gutted I couldn’t make it. She writes.

Amazing… incredible. And weird. You type back, your fingers moving at a snail-like pace from the icy temperature lingering in the air.

Weird? Explain. She questions.

Before you begin to respond, you take in your environment. It’s 11:30pm, and you’re stood outside, alone, in Wembley, in the freezing cold. It’s probably a good idea to head back to your hotel room and finish this conversation somewhere warmer and safer. As you make your way down the street, you spot a small bar with pretty fairy lights shimmering in the window.

I wouldn’t say no to a drink right now you think to yourself, as you stop outside and peer in. It looks inviting, and warm.

What’s the harm in stopping by for one drink? You muse.

As you open the door, you’re met with the comforting scent of aromatic bitters, mixed with aged oak, and fresh citrus. You breathe in, as you rub your hands together in search of warmth. The bar is quiet with a few people dotted about in booths, making conversation. Soft jazz plays in the background as you make your way over to the bar. You perch yourself up onto a stool and the bartender approaches you to ask what you’ll have.

“Sailor Jerry’s and coke, if you have it” you say with a polite smile. The bartender nods and begins making your drink. He brings it over and you tap your phone onto the card reader.

“Thanks” you say, bringing the glass to your lips and taking in a sip of the sweet, golden liquid, savouring the burn of the alcohol as it slips down your throat. Your attention is quickly diverted though, as you hear a commotion of male voices at the door. Their boisterous laughter cuts through the ambience of the bar like a knife, which is quickly calmed by a very loud shhhhh from one of the taller men in the group. You can make out four figures but decide to pull your attention back to your drink and think about replying to the text message from earlier. As you begin to start typing a response, you feel the stool next to you being pulled away.

For fuck sake, can I not be left alone in peace for one evening without some random bloke bothering me? you think to yourself, rolling your eyes, ignoring the presence next to you and focusing on your phone screen.

The stranger leans in, close enough for you to feel his breath tickle the strands of hair covering your ear.

“Just my luck that I’d find you here, you left pretty quickly after the show was over”.

You look up, a frown forming across your forehead as you begin to reject the man’s advances and tell him you aren’t interested. As your eyes find his, time seems to slow almost to a stop. He grins and cocks his head to the side, an eyebrow rising ever so slightly as he waits for your response.

There’s no way this is happening. This can’t be happening.

You become aware that you’re staring silently, with your mouth hanging open. It feels as though you can’t take in enough breath. You clear your throat, not able to speak but wanting to at least do something.

After what seems like a million years pass by, you finally muster up the word “Hi”, a shy smile playing on your lips.

“Do I get to know your name, pretty lady?” he asks. You feel your stomach flip.

Did Jake Kiszka just call you pretty lady? Ok, calm down, calm down.

“Y/N” you say, admittedly a lot more confidently than you actually feel. “And I believe you must be Jake”.

“A pleasure to meet you, Y/N.” Jake responds, holding his hand out to you. You place your hand in his, and he brings it up to his lips, softly kissing it. The contact sends electric bolts through your nerve endings and into your very core.

“The pleasure is all mine” you breathe.

“So, how come I haven’t seen your beautiful face at our shows before?” He asks, shooting you a playful grin.

“I’ve never made barricade before” you reply honestly.

“What took you so long?”

You pause, not really knowing what to respond. What did take you so long?

You sigh “I always came along with my best friend and my boyfriend. Well, ex-boyfriend. We never actually booked standing tickets, but I was going to be here by myself this time so I thought, fuck it, I may as well try to get as close as I can.”

He sits back in his chair, studying your face.

“Ex-boyfriend?” He asks after a few moments. You feel yourself blush, which he definitely notices.

“Yes, ex-boyfriend. I called it off recently” you hesitate, before adding “It just wasn’t working, so… yeah.”

“Lucky for me” he retorts, his eyes fixated on you, drinking you in. He looks over at the bartender who swiftly walks over to take his order.

“I’ll have whatever she’s having, and of course she’ll need another”.

You look down at your half-finished drink and knock it back, sliding the empty glass over to the bartender.

Thirty minutes later and a few drinks in, you and Jake are chatting away like old friends. You’re so surprised at how easy he is to talk to.

“Do you live round here?” He asks.

“Uhh, it’s complicated” you respond, looking down at your drink and stirring it absentmindedly, watching the ice slosh around in the amber liquid.

Jake raises his eyebrow.

“Technically no, I live further South. I’m staying at a hotel across the street from the arena tonight. But I’m moving in with my best friend who lives here in London, since my ex and I-” you trail off.

Jake puts his hand on your thigh, and you feel your breath catch in the back of your throat.

“Do you still live with him?”

“No, he moved out a few weeks back. But I need to get out, too many memories there.” You squeeze your eyes shut, wincing slightly.

Unconsciously, your hand meets Jake’s, still placed on your thigh. You feel a warmth creep between your legs.

Fuck, it’s been so long since I’ve felt like this. So long since I’ve been… touched.

You bite at your lip and try to shoo the feeling away, but Jake leans in and uses his free hand to brush your hair behind your ear and leans forward to whisper.

“Sounds to me like it’s his loss, pretty lady”.

A soft moan escapes your lips, it’s barely audible but Jake is so close to you that he most definitely heard it. Your eyes dart up to his, your faces so close now that there’s only inches between you. His grip on your thigh tightens as the warmth between your legs spreads.

The next thing you know, you’re in the back of an Uber, Jake’s hands in your hair and his lips crashing into yours. Jake is cool, crystal water and you have an insatiable thirst that only he can quench. Jake’s hand slides up under the skirt of your dress, his fingers barely grazing your throbbing clit. You stifle a moan, your hands exploring his bare chest. The Uber pulls up outside your hotel, and Jake whisks you out and in through the doors. You lead him up to the third floor and fumble around in your bag to find the key card. As you find it, Jake grabs hold of your wrists with one hand and lifts them above you, pinning you to the door. With his spare hand, he lifts your thigh up and around his waist and grinds into you, the outline of his erection pressing right where you need it to. You cry out with pleasure, which Jake evidently seems to like.

“You sound so fucking beautiful when you moan like that” he purrs, retrieving the key card from your restrained hand and pressing it against the reader. As he opens the door, he pulls you up onto him so that you’re straddling him with your legs wrapped around his waist. He brings you over to the bed and sets you down onto it.

“Do you want me, pretty lady?” He asks.

“Fuck… yes! Please!” You shout, the agonising need to be fucked coursing through your veins.

“How long has it been since someone took care of you, baby?”

“Too fucking long” you whine.

“So, you’re telling me this pretty baby hasn’t been fucked for a while? When’s the last time he made you cum?” He taunts, planting hot, breathless kisses along your throat.

“He never made me cum”.

Jake stops in his tracks, runs his hands up and into your hair, and guides your face to his.

“He never made you cum?”

“No, I can’t.” You say, embarrassment flooding across your face. “I can only make myself cum”.

Jake laughs and you frown at him, not understanding what’s remotely amusing about what you just said.

His eyes blacken with lust. “We’ll see about that” he croons, snaking his hand up your thigh, inching dangerously close to your throbbing, needy clit.

“This only works if you trust me, can you do that?” He asks. You nod, but he shakes his head.

“Words, pretty lady. I need you to use your words. I won’t go easy on you, but you need to tell me if things get too much. Ok”

“Ok” you breathe “do anything, please do what you want, I’m yours”.

“You’re gunna wish you didn’t say that” he laughs, and with that, he bunches the waistband of your thong in his fist and rips it off in one clean movement. His middle finger runs through your wet pussy, collecting your heat as he trails upwards, and uses it as lubrication to rub agonisingly pleasurable circles across your swollen bud.

“Oh, fuck yes” you cry, your hands grabbing at your breasts over the velvet of your dress.

Clearly affected by your outbursts, he slips two fingers inside of you and begins pumping them, curling them up to reach your sweet spot. Your hands find their way under his shirt, and your fingernails dig into the flesh on his back.

“Fuck! Please, don’t stop!” You beg, your eyes rolling back into your head.

“You don’t need to beg me, baby. I’ll take care of you” he soothes, whilst doing the opposite with his hand. He’s fucking you so hard with his fingers, his pace causing a pressure to build up in your lower stomach. You know that feeling, and it’s usually only felt when you are in your own company, with your trusty wand vibrator in hand, but this time you are teetering on the edge of an orgasm at the hands of Jake fucking Kiszka.

That thought alone, and the knowledge that he is currently inside you, is enough to tip you over the edge. Your mind plunges into bliss as you pulse around his fingers. No man has ever made you cum before.

You hazily begin drifting down from your orgasm, but instead of letting up, he begins to pump into you even faster, still curling his fingers up and into your bulging G spot.

“Please, stop!” you cry out, beginning to feel overstimulated.

“I told you to trust me” he snaps, restraining your wrists with his free hand.

You’re writhing under his touch, the pressure building and building within you. The feeling is unfamiliar, but you do trust him.

“Come on baby, cum for me again, I know you can” he coos.

His gentle coaching paired with the enormous pleasure jolting through your body sends you headfirst into a crashing wave of ecstasy. You cry out as you cum harder than you ever have in your life. You throw your head back as you begin to see stars. Jake pulls his fingers out of you and rubs them viciously against your clit as you continue to gush out onto the bed sheets.

“Fuck, fuck!!!” You shout, completely consumed and lost in your orgasm.

Jake lifts his hand to his mouth and licks you off his fingers, savouring the taste of you like it’s his last ever meal.

“I fucking love a squirter” he moans, climbing on top and pressing his hard cock into you.

“Tell me what you want baby” he asks.

“I want you to fuck me” you breathe.

“You ready for more, princess?” He taunts.

“Yes, fuck yes. Please, Jake.” You plead.

He hooks his arm underneath you and pulls you up, so you’re sat upright on top of him. He lifts your dress over your head and exposes your bare breasts, your nipples hard and pebbled. He takes one into his mouth and begins to suck on it gently, which causes you to whimper.

You pull his shirt off and begin unbuttoning his pants. He yanks them off and you delve into his boxers, sliding your hand down his shaft. He groans, a pearl of pre-cum forming at his tip. He runs his fingers through your folds to gather your slick and uses it to pump himself a few times with this before lifting you up and pulling you down onto him. His hard cock slips inside you with ease, and you both wail with immense pleasure. He begins fucking into you hard and fast, his hands finding your throat and choking you slightly, his teeth burrowing into your collarbone. Your mind goes hazy as you sink deeper and deeper into euphoria. The bed frame pounds against the wall as Jake drives his length into you, his free hand stroking across your clit.

“Jake, I’m gunna fucking cum” you sob, tears falling down your cheeks.

“Cum for me baby, cum so hard for me. I’m so close angel”. You can see he’s teetering on the edge himself, his face plastered with pleasure, but he wants you to get there first. His selflessness and desire for your own pleasure sends you tumbling into orgasm number three, that same rush of endorphins flooding through your veins as you clench hard around him and cover him in your arousal. He curses loudly as his cock twitches inside of you, and he’s cumming right alongside you. The symphony of curses, moans and groans light up the dark room with their beautiful song.

You find yourselves intertwined in a heap on the bed, panting and sweating, tangled up together as you float down from ecstasy. He cups your face in his hands and kisses your forehead gently, in a way that makes you feel like the most special person in the world.

“Wow” you whisper, your heart rate returning to a steadier pace.

“You are fucking phenomenal” he praises softly, stroking your hair.

You lay there for a while, in silence, letting Jake hold you.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course” Jake replies, caressing your cheek

“Why me?”

“Huh?” He looks at you, confused.

“Why me? You could have had any girl tonight, literally any girl. Why did you choose me?”

He sighs. “To be honest with you, I don’t do this a lot. I know that might seem hard to believe, given my profession…” he hesitates “I actually recently got out of a long-term relationship myself too, and the last thing I’ve wanted to do is date or sleep with someone else. But when I saw you in the crowd tonight, it sounds stupid, but I knew I had to get to know you. I knew you were special.”

You blush, not knowing what to say back.

“Is it weird if I tell you I’ve had a crush on you for like, the longest time” you giggle.

“Fuck no” he laughs, before adding “you’re only human” with a wink.

You stay up talking for hours, about where you grew up, how many siblings you have, what your life ambitions are and all the other deep shit that you share when getting to know someone. He laughs, you laugh. At around 3am, you realise the time.

“Shit, it’s so late!” You gasp.

Jake laughs and places his hand over yours. “I guess time flies when you’re having fun”.

“I suppose you need to leave; I have no idea what a rock star’s schedule is like but I’m sure it’s busy!” You say, unable to hide the sullen undertones in your voice.

“We actually have a week until the next show, so we were planning on hanging around here and doing some tourist shit. Josh really likes London, something about it being ‘good for the artist’s soul’, whatever the fuck that means…”

“Oh, that’s cool” You mumble, not really knowing what else to say. You want to ask him to stay, but you’ve only just met the guy.

“Do you mind if I crash with you tonight?” Jake asks, smiling softly at you. It’s as if he read your mind…

“No not at all!” Yeah, good going, make it super obvious how happy that made you, you sound like a giddy schoolgirl!

He chuckles, moving forward and enveloping you in a tight embrace.

“Good night, Y/N. I’m so glad I met you today” he breathes into your ear.

“Good night, Jake. I’m glad too.”

#jake greta van fleet #gresties #the peaceful army #jake lane #kiszka #jake kiszka x y/n #jake kiszka x you #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka x oc #greta van fleet #greta van fic #jake gvf #gvf #gvf fanfiction #gvf fic #gvf smut

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taylor-on-your-dash · 9 days

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Summary Poem by Taylor Swift

In Summation

At this hearing

I stand before my fellow members

of the Tortured Poets Department

With a summary of my findings

A debrief, a detailed rewinding

For the purpose of warning

For the sake of reminding

As you might all unfortunately recall

I had been struck with a case of a restricted humanity

Which explains my plea here today of temporary i n s a n i t y

You see, the pendulum swings

Oh, the chaos it brings

Leads the caged beast to do the most curious things

Lovers spend years denying what's ill fated

Resentment rotting away galaxies we created

Stars placed and glued meticulously by hand next to the ceiling fan

Tried wishing on comets.

Tried dimming the shine.

Tried to orbit his planet.

Some stars never align.

And in one conversation,

I tore down the whole sky.

Spring sprung forth with dazzling freedom hues

Then a crash from the skylight bursting through

Something old, someone hallowed, who told me he could be brand new

And so I was out of the oven and into the microwave

Out of the slammer and into a tidal wave

How gallant to save the empress from her gilded tower

Swinging a sword he could barely lift

But loneliness struck at that fateful hour

Low hanging fruit on his wine stained lips

He never even scratched the surface of me.

None of them did.

“In summation, it was not a love affair!”

I screamed while bringing my fists to my coffee ringed desk

It was a mutual manic phase.

It was self harm.

It was house and then cardiac arrest.

A smirk creeps onto this poet's face

Because it's the worst men that I write best.

And so I enter into evidence

My tarnished coat of arms

My muses, acquired like bruises

My talismans and charms

The tick, tick, tick of love bombs

My veins of pitch black ink

Sincerely, The Chairman of The Tortured Poets Department

#taylor swift #tttpd spoilers #ttpd spoiler #the tortured poets department #my bestie typed this while i dictated it #also “align” is slightly under stars but there's no way to lower words on tumblr #there is almost no punctuation #i was enchanted to meet queue

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the-grand-gemini · 6 months

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I have no writing skills so I'm sending this concept out into the void.

I desperately need a slow burn Gale/Tav AU where Gale, still suffering from the orb or a similar affliction has Tara go out to find enchanted items.

Queue Tav: an apprentice enchanter, who as a hobby/practice enchants whatever is around. Personal nick nacks, cutlery, cheap iron rings they buy by the dozen from a local black smith since they're made from cast offs. These are not master works, they're just practice and can't be sold until she's licensed (idk if there's such laws in Faerun but it's my imagination so there are licenses and apprenticeships!)

But! The enchantments are A+ so Tara makes a plea that poor Mr. Dekarios needs these and they're just collecting dust sitting around.

So Tav agrees and starts sending Gale enchanted trinkets through the post/Tara, because of course he's locked in his tower and isolating like he mentions in game and is barely leaving/possibly agora phobic at this point.

Over time getting to know each other through one dinner fork and loose marble enchanted with misty step or some such at a time. Tav starts wanting to impress Gale and or make him laugh while he's locked in his depressing tower.

Since he's only responded through Tara or by letter they start to try to get any reaction out of him by enchanting the most obnoxious items (an entire barrel of fruit, a taxidermy rat, a box within a box within a box, a single shoe with holes, the world's ugliest knit doily, etc, etc) until he's desperately smitten and/or about to loose his mind and stroms out to confront Tav.

Queue meet hate/cute as Gale rails against the injustice of these ridiculous items and Tav is just delighted to know that Gale of Waterdeep blushes a marvelous shade of crimson when flustered.

Idk how Gale is cured in this prompt (beauty and the beast love cures all? Idk), maybe Mystra amused by the situation frees Gale from the orb after he accepts that not all magic is high and mighty, some of it is in the small things in life?

I need it so if anyone likes this concept and wants to run with it go for it!

#bg3 #bg3 fic idea #bg3 fic #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #tav/gale #tav x gale #gale x tav #gale/tav #bg3 tav #foc idea #please someone wtite this for me #where do people send promots???#fic prompt #bg3 fic prompt #tara #tara is a match maker

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starwrittenfates · 12 days

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𝘓𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘌𝘷𝘢𝘯𝘴 & 𝘚𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘶𝘴 𝘚𝘯𝘢𝘱𝘦

for @dcmoniism

#dcmoniism #Lily x Severus // enchanted to meet you (dcmoniism)#starwrittenfates edits ;;#✨our queue is in the stars ✨

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maikissed · 1 year

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i've got my eye on you

Richarlison x reader

In which y/n keeps embarassing herself infront of Richarlison most of the night, he’s being a player (because of course he is) and they end up flirting at the terrace stairs what makes them absolutely enchanted with each other.

warnings: usage of drugs and alcohol

posting this in a hurry because it's cl night so sorry for any mistakes.

part 2 is here

The weather was pleasantly warm. You and your best friend were chilling on the loungers in the garden after smoking a blunt. You could hear music blasting from the house, the party was going wild with so many people gathered in.

„Bro, i am cooked” you murmured leaning your head on the back of the chair.

„Yeah this stuff is gooood” she answered laughing lightly.

Your head has become light and you were smiling, breathing in the spring air. There where times when weed made you dizzy and sleepy, which is why you weren’t very willing to smoke usually. But you changed your mind tonight and didn’t regret it. You felt super relaxed.

„Should we go back inside? This is fucked up, we’re at the party and we’re literally meditating in the garden” you heard Sheira say.

You burst out laughing at her remark and she accompanied.

„I’ve been needing to pee for like 30 minutes” you said seriously which elicited another laugh from your friend.

„Girl, then go, oh my God. I’ll wait for you here then”

„Do you know where the toilet is?” you asked standing up.

You haven’t had time to get to fully look around Luke’s newly bought house yet.

„Um, one is downstairs down the corridor and there’s a second one upstairs, straight from the stairs on the right”

„Okay, but don’t move anywhere from here, bitch”

„Alright, alright!” she kept smiling and laughing, readjusting on the seat.

You went up inside, the great noise surrounded you the moment you crossed the door and you smiled at the familiar group of people when you passed them. It was way hotter inside, you could feel an invisible layer of warm air hugging your skin, your senses definitely sharper due to your state.

You noticed that there was a queue to the bathroom on the first-floor, so you decided to head upstairs, hoping no one will actually be there. The moment you passed the last step of the stairs, the door to the bathroom opened and a skinny blonde girl appeared infront of you with her eyes focused on the phone screen. She passed you without even looking your way and went down the stairs. You hummed happy with the fact that you can quickly use the bathroom so you just reached for the door handle and barged in. Unexpectedly you collided with something hard and huffed surprised.

„Shit, sorry, I thought it wasn’t occupied” you said looking at the tall guy infront of you bearing a slightly startled expression.

„It’s fine, I was just leaving” he answered with an accent and your mind actually comprehended that you’ve just runned into one of the football players.

Luke, the party organizer, has been mingling in various environments, so you were often meeting some less or more famous people. You did recognise some of them, especially the ballers. And this one you knew as well, but not personally. You didn’t remember being introduced to Richarlison but you’ve spotted him at a few parties at Luke’s. To be honest you have been avoiding football players. Some of them were arrogant or just man whores. This one was clearly the latter.

You didn’t move, just stared at his face for a few seconds and after truly realising what you’ve just run into, you smiled foolishly and started laughing. You couldn’t control it even if you wanted to, covering your mouth with your hand did not help. The situation was riddiculous, you were stoned as hell, which was probably pretty obvious.

„What’s so funny?” you heard him ask sternly.

Oh so he was arrogant as well.

„Sorry, I um… wanted to use the bathroom” you shrugged with a permanent smile plastered on your face, avoiding eye contact with the guy.

„Well, then let me pass and you’ll be free to do your thing.”

Right, you still haven’t moved and were blocking the exit. You facepalmed yourself mentaly and stepped aside. He passed your form in the door frame, facing and looking down at you. It hit you how close you two were for a split second and you cleared your dry throat.

„See you around” he added and when you lifted your head in his direction you noticed a shadow of a smile on his lips.

„Hope not” you said to yourself locking the door, still feeling hazy.

You took a look at yourself in the mirror and met the reflection of your heavy lids and reddened eyes. Yup, you were stoned like a goat.

When you came back downstairs Sheira was at the mini bar laughing at something Luke said.

„What took you so long?” she asked throwing her arm aroung you „Did you tap somebody in the bathroom?”

The comment made you laugh loudly.

„No I did not”

„Well you should, it would do you good” she shrugged.

„Fuck you” you answered geting a bottle of water to drink. You throat was dry as a desert.

You looked around and noticed the girl that was in the bathroom with Richarlison. She was stunning, to say the least, her long blonde hair was falling in gentle waves down her back. She was all slim legs, full lips and shining light blue eyes. The dress she was wearing wasn’t very modest but she still looked classy. In oppose to you in your high state. You snorted and looked the other way spotting mentioned footballer. Richarlison was sitting at the sofa surrounded by a few people. A glass with a dark liquor in his hand, his long legs spread widely, he was laughing at something being said. You took a moment to study him. His bleached hair matched his maroon eyes and darker complexion quite pleasantly, you thought. His face was all firm edges and defined bones, which truly made him really handsome. But it was his eyes that were the most appealing – deep dark frame giving off almost dangerous gaze. And you were staring. The realization made you uncomfortable so you looked away trying to focus on the conversation between Luke and Sheira but something pulled your eyes into his direction again. And in fact, he was already looking at you, deep dark frame of his eyes; dangerous, daring gaze. You gulped feeling your legs go weak. What the fuck?

“Shots?” you heard Luke shout to you and you nodded not giving a fuck that if you’ll start drinking while still being high, you might not end this evening in a good state.

After a few rounds you found yourself on the dancefloor laughing and moving vigorously to some trap song. The room was getting hotter minute by minute, you felt your skin becoming sticky and you were out of breath. You desperatly needed some fresh air so you headed to the terrace. The night was peaceful and the garden was softly lit. You took one step down the stairs of the terrace and felt youself losing your balance, but before you actually fell down you felt someone’s arms wrap around your middle.

“Shit” you muttered.

“Careful” you heard a familiar accent and when you turned your head you spotted none other than Richarlison wearing a sly smirk while, once again, looking down at you because of the hight difference.

His hot hands were still gripping the exposed skin of your waist and the sensation added to your already flushed state. He let go of you after making sure that you’re standing straight.

“Thank you” you said and decided to sit down so you won’t embarrass yourself further by faltering and landing on your face on the grass.

“May I know your name?” he sat next to you.

You considered telling him a wrong name, as you often did when you weren’t interested in the guy that was hitting on you, but you were way too drunk to play one of your little games.

“It’s y/n” you said stretching your legs and looking down at your heavy boots.

“Nice to meet you y/n. I’m Richarlison”

“I know” you smiled cheekily.

Why would you say that? You’ve already made yourself look like a fool like a thousand times tonight in his pressence. You giggled.

“I see that you’re having fun” he added, his expression soft.

“And you? Are you having fun?” you looked at him through your long lashes and smiled once again.

“Isn’t that obvious?”

“Mhm” you murmured leaning back on your hands. It was not a comfortable position but your limbs were too tired to made you care.

Your eyes landed on a tattoo decorating his neck and then followed down his inked arm.

“I like your tattoos” you said briefly.

“Thanks” he looked your way readjusting himself on the step “Do you have any?”

“Not in a place that I could show you without it being inappropriate”

Oh you did not just start flirting with the guy. You had this thing that you often caught yourself flirting during any conversations you’ve had. It’s not like it was on purpose, it was just a manner that you had. Maybe it was something that you’ve developed through the years of always feeling too intimidated with people. Made you feel more powerful.

He laughed at your comment looking down. You noticed that it made him a little bit flustered. Well, that’s interesting. You bit your lip not taking your eyes off of him.

“Now I’m uh…” he scrunched his eyebrows as if to find a word “…curious”

The comment made you smile widely and you rised up back to a fully sitting position.

“Don’t try to take me to the bathroom so you can find out” you said without thinking.

For a second you worried it sounded way too straightforward. But he did not seem to be offended at all.

“I won’t” he laughed “Unless you want me to”

A smug grin appeared on his face and you couldn’t contain a giggle.

“Oh, you’re very cunning. That’s how you get yourself all the pretty girls, I suppose?”

“Most of the time, some doesn’t seem to get fooled easily”

“Well, you need to put in a little more effort then” you tilted your head looking at his lips.

You liked the shape of them. You realised you let your mind wander and it took you aback. Too much weed and too much alcohol. Unfortunately before you took your eyes off of him, he seemed to notice your stare. You looked down biting your lip trying to contain a smile but it was pointless.

“I’ve been seeing you around a few times” it was him who broke the silence “I’ve just never grew the courage to come up and talk to you”

Him? The guy that you almost caught hooking up with this blondie model in the bathroom on the second floor? Too intimidated to talk to you? He was fucking with you right now for sure. Your eyes widened sneeringly.

“Oh, please” you answered “You’re shooting your shot right now, aren’t you?”

He laughed with you sincerely.

“Maybe, but it’s true though. You are very pretty” he murmured making you blush.

He’s clearly a playboy, you thought, trying to lure you. The way he looked at you caused shivers to run down your spine and it almost made you want to fall right into his trap. It was quite funny to be honest. You haven’t reacted this way to a boy’s attention ever.

“Thank you” you answered sweetly “But just because I’m quite drunk and high right now doesn’t mean I’ll fall for your pretty words, Richarlison”

His name falling of your lips made him look down at your mouth and your heart skipped a beat. Oh, he’s definitely going to cause some problems. You decided to stand up, feeling a tad tense.

“I feel better now” you took a deep breath “Are you coming in?”

“Sure” he nodded, his eyes shone with amusement.

As you entered the room walking side by side you immediately spotted the look on Sheira’s face and almost wanted to run up to her to cover her mouth before she said something embarrassing, as she was often used to. But she said nothing and let’s thank the God himself for that. Enough embbarassment for one night.

You did not part with Richarlison though, you spent the rest of the party with a group of friends, talking and joking around and you’ve taken a notice that he was in fact quite the entertainer. He was funny, charming and captivating and it visibly made everyone drown into him and engrossed in anything he was saying. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him, being enchanted by his appealing aura, the way he moved or spoke Portuguese to a few of his friends, even when you couldn’t understand a word. You kept stealing glances towards eachother, your skin was tingling almost regretful that you were surrounded by all these people and not alone. Something was telling you that Richarlison felt exactly the same, as you noticed that he was trying to come closer to where you stood every few passing minutes. It probably looked innocent from someone elses perspective but you two were like magnets to eachother, desperate to feel that dazzling closeness that if lasted too long, may bring your minds and bodies into maddening overdrive. Therefore when your arms brushed against eachother briefly, your body reacted on its own accord and you jumped slighlty, feeling your cheeks heating up. This energy between the both of you was dangerous. You were trying to focus on your breathing, so you wouldn’t suffocate, and to calm your relentlessly beating heart, so you won’t start to shake but you found it difficult to containt two things at a time. What a childish reactions you had, but you just couldn’t help it.

“Are you alright?” Richarlison lowered his head to whisper in your ear.

Sweet tickling goosebumps spread over your neck. That feeling almost made your knees buckle. If he asked you if you wanted to join him in that damn bathroom right this moment the same way, you’d probably agree.

“Mhm” you hummed and looked up at this face.

His eyes shone with that familiar amusement. It was so easy to get lost in them.

“Do you want to go outside? Take a breath?”

“No, I’m ok” you answered.

You were standing way too close to eachother to have a conversation as simple as this. You could’ve say yes to finally get him alone with you once again but it was too late because Sheira was already at your side, asking if it was alright if you two headed home now. You agreed telling her that you’ll join her in the yard in a second. It was very late, after all.

“It was nice to meet you Richarlison” you smiled flirtatiously at him.

“Can’t wait to see you again, y/n”

“I know” you bit your lip to hold back a giggle and turned around to find your friend.

You woke up at noon with just a slight headache and a message from a certain football player displayed on your phone screen.

i got carried away at the end, but the tensionnnnnn

#football #richarlison x reader #richarlison #brazil nt #richarlison one shot #richarlison imagine #richarlison imagines #richarlison smut #richarlison x you #richarlison x y/n #richarlison fluff #world cup #neymar jr

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halfmylife · 10 months

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I Was Enchanted to Meet You

Pairing Modern!Osferth x reader

Summary you see the same guy in the coffee shop almost every morning and decide to finally pluck up the courage to speak to him

Warnings none just fluff as per, not proofread

A/N This is for @emilyhufflepufftlk 500 challenge inspired by the song Enchanted! It’s one of my favs and I couldn’t not combine Taylor Swift and Osferth it’s just a perfect fit!

It was like clockwork. Every morning at 8:00 almost on the dot, he’d come in order his coffee and leave not even five minutes later. He always smiled and was overly friendly to the staff, something not many people were.

There had been a couple of times you’d been in the queue together waiting in an unusual silence, neither of you paying each other much mind. Most of the time though, you were sat reading whilst you drank your coffee when he came in and were more than happy to observe but never approach.

It’s not like the thought hadn’t crossed your mind. He was cute and friendly but also cheeky. You had thought about approaching him and striking up a conversation but never acted on it out of fear he wouldn’t want to be bothered.

Then there was one morning he didn’t show. You were waiting in line when you spotted the time. It was almost ten minutes past the hour and you wondered if something was wrong. It was unlike him to not show. The minutes ticked by and it was almost your turn to order by the time he appeared.

Unlike the usual days, his hair was more wild, his cheeks flushed and he was struggling for air. Though with a quick smile he soon joined the queue right behind you. Lucky for him that there wasn’t anyone else, you thought.

As he stood trying to regain his breath, a thousand thoughts fluttered through your head. So much that you almost missed the barista ushering you forward.

“Oh.” You gasped giving an apologetic smile before turning back to the man behind you. “Would you like to go first? You’re in more of a rush than I am.”

“I really couldn’t.” He shakes his head and you’re able to look at him fully. His pale blue eyes that twinkle in an almost cartoonish way, it makes you wonder if he’s even real.

“Please, I don’t mind.” You step back slightly and allow him to step around, thanking you several times before placing his order. He’s fairly quick and waits around the side whilst they start making his drink. You’re quick to order your own and join him.

“Thank you again, normally I’m not this late.” He huffed a little, smiling to himself. Though you couldn’t help but notice the cautious way in which his eyes ran over your body.

“Oh I know that’s why I offered.” You tried to smile back but your expression dropped as you realised what you’d admitted. Of course you didn’t want to sound like you’d been watching the guy, which you had but that wasn’t the point. “I only mean that, oh god, that sounds awful, I just meant that…”

“I’ve seen you here before too, although you’re normally reading.” He cut you off as you scrambled for words and you couldn’t be more grateful for the relief. You didn’t want to seem like a complete idiot. Yet here he was admitting that he’d noticed you too.

“Oh.” Was all you could manage as your cheeks flushed.

“Not that I’ve been watching, I just happened to notice.” It was his turn to stumble over his words as he looked for a way to not sound overly creepy. Luckily for him, there was nothing other than adorable about him. “I’m in here almost everyday.”

“Me too.” You spoke softly as you smiled. Something in him switched. The boyish shyness dissipated and instead a wave of confidence washed over him as he adjusted to face you fully.

“It’s a shame we’ve never spoken before.” You could’ve sworn you saw his eyes flick down to your lips before meeting your gaze again. The way he looked at you as though you were the light in the darkness was enough to set your stomach in a rhythm of fluttering.

“Osferth, here’s your order.” You thoughts were cut off by the barista handing him, his takeaway cup, cutting in between both of you.

“Thank you.” The shyness came back as he thanked the server. He paused for a moment, as if considering what he was about to say next. “Maybe when I’m not rushing off we can share a coffee together, I’ll even come early and you can tell me all about the book you’re reading.” He smirked as he took a sip from his cup. How he could even drink it that hot was beyond you but you were a little distracted at the moment.

“I’d like that.” You smiled, trying to fight the urge to squeal in excitement.

“Me too.” He nodded. “I’ll see you around, maybe tomorrow?”

“Yeah.” You agreed, your smile wide and your cheeks burning. “See you tomorrow!” You called after him as he left the shop. Your eyes unable to leave him even as you were handed your drink. You hadn’t expected him to even give you the time of day let alone want to have a coffee with you.

Even after you left the coffee shop, he was all you thought about for the rest of the day. The way his voice sounded, the way he smiled. God, the way he looked at you like you were the very breath he craved. You were sure that when you saw him again you would be truly enchanted by him.

#the last kingdom #tlk #the last kingdom fanfic #tlk fanfic #reader fic #reader insert #x reader #osferth the last kingdom #osferth #osferth x reader #tlk osferth #osferth fanfic #osferth x you

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weemsgay · 1 year

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Love Notes

My first ~official~ foray into fanfiction not scribbled messily in the confines of my Notes app. Be kind, please.

Larissa Weems x Reader

Summary: You’re a music teacher at Nevermore that makes encouraging handwritten notes and mix CDs for Larissa anonymously. Will Principal Weems ever find out you are her secret admirer?

AO3 link

Your stomach dropped and panic set in when news spread that Lariss—no, you corrected, Principal Weems has been poisoned and was in critical condition.

Your head swam with fear, despair, confusion, worry, hope. After staring off with your vision blurred for a few minutes as your heart ached, you sprung into action. You wrapped your cardigan around you tighter as you moved quickly to the dormitories. Someone had to ensure panic did not erupt with the news, even if what you wanted most was to run to wherever Principal Weems was. It didn’t take more than a handful of times meeting to understand this school and its inhabitants were the pride and upmost importance for the principal. You knew this would selflessly be on her mind after being poisoned. What twisted priorities, you thought, shaking your head slightly as you made it to the wing of the school that housed students and faculty.

With Bianca’s help, you began ushering students to safety and placating their frantic questions.

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In the Burlington hospital waiting room you found yourself jittery and bouncing your legs up and down in your chair. When other professors eyed you, you half-heartedly attempted to groan that the seating was uncomfortable—especially after sitting for hours.

You stood up quickly to escape to the large floor length windows and gaze outside at the early morning sky and birds beginning to chirp and sing a new day. Noticing how your breath was shallow and uneven, you focused on the birds’ songs and tried to deepen and steady your breathing. After a few moments, you were able to calm a bit. You spot a few American robins circling a tree outside seeming so jubilant and free. You let their melody surround you, giving you goosebumps down your arms. Enchanted, you begin to orchestrate a new tune in your head, one to soothe your remaining worries.

Music always had this effect on you and consistently provided an avenue to build or release your feelings. In fact, being able to explore and share your abilities teaching outcasts over the last two years at Nevermore has changed your life. Before you could finish your bird song arrangement, a polite voice spoke out that Principal Weems could now briefly see visitors.

Not everyone could queue to visit the principal, though. Only faculty at this time. Your annoyance flared. You chided, leave it to that woman to negate healing in order to ensure the academy is continuing adequately. You stifled a scoff while thinking about it and made your way with a handful of other members of the staff to Weems’s room through the emergency doors. As you glanced back to the waiting room, you saw a small dark figure with reddened eyes being enveloped comfortingly by blonde, pink, and blue.

Once you reached the doorway to Principal Weems's room and tentatively glanced inside, all your frustration at the situation dissipated. You've never seen the tall, statuesque woman embody anything but poise, control, and confidence. She still looked graceful, but there was a weariness to her form now. It broke your heart to see.

Pulling you from your thoughts was the voice of the person in question. "You may come in, dear. I hardly bite."

At this, your cheeks were set ablaze, and you scurried inside after the other professors once seeing you were the only one still outside her room. “Apologies, Principal Weems,” you muttered, standing in the back behind your colleagues.

Each of us gave our respective reports to the bedridden principal, and we strategized how to move forward with the semester. With a heavy sigh and her long fingers rubbing at the bridge of her nose as if she is staving off a headache, Principal Weems relinquished, “I’m afraid we will be cancelling classes for the rest of the semester.”

Rather than protest the decision, you looked around the room curiously, taking it in. It really was too bland to be connected to someone as exquisite and full of character as Larissa Weems, even in her current state. There was a small TV hung up in the corner of the room, a laminate top table, a strange patterned chair with faux leather accents to the right of her hospital bed, an IV, and machines beeping rhythmically behind her. It was far from her lavish and impeccably designed office. You contemplated to yourself with furrowed brows, Does Principal Weems even watch television? Unbeknownst to you, Principal Weems observed your brows and eyes darting around the room, almost sensing your questioning and dissatisfaction with the space.

At that moment the same nurse from before came to collect the visitors from the room, letting us know that the patient needed adequate rest. Nodding and murmuring, my colleagues began to clear out. I neared the doorway as the last person out when I heard through pursed lips, “It’s a shame that I’ll go mad here recovering without my books or laptop. Think you could fetch them for me tomorrow, dear?” You turned, only to encounter the other woman's inquiring blue eyes, waiting expectantly. You swallowed a large knot in your throat, “Y-yes, ma’am.”

——————————————————————————————————

With your mind spinning from your interaction at the hospital the previous evening, you set to work gathering the items Principal Weems requested. After embarrassing yourself twice in front of the woman yesterday, you’re not sure if you’ll make it through this task as you push open her office door to get to her adjoined living quarters. You’ve always found her to be quite desirable, and you typically aren’t a bumbling idiot when it comes to crushes. What makes this different? you plead with yourself.

Regardless, you’ve decided a change is in order. This was your second year at Nevermore Academy, and you have barely had ten conversations with the tall blonde outside of weekly faculty meetings. If it wasn’t for Principal Weems’s history with Garrett Gates’s murder, you’re not sure she would have had the Nightshade antidote on her to confront his sister, Laurel. You almost lost the one person you wanted to pursue all because you didn’t have the courage to speak up. No more. You’re going to woo Larissa Weems even if it’s the last thing you do.

With a duffel open on her magnificent office desk, you begin to collect some books from Weems’ bookshelves. Next is a stack of forms and papers that you’re sure the nurses would forbid you to sneak her if they knew. You head through a large door into her bedroom, a slight blush creeping up your neck. You shake your head to clear it and round the corner to her private bathroom. After a moment searching, you snag her signature red lipstick. You’re sure it’s not technically needed, but you imagine it is a comfort item for the woman. You look down at it almost mesmerized that her lips’ faithful companion is situated in your hand. You can’t help but wonder and hope you might take its place.

This possibility emboldened you. Instead of making your way back the way you came, you simply phase through the bathroom wall into Principal Weems’s large, regal office. Back in her workspace, your eyes fall onto a sleek, walnut vinyl and CD player. Taken aback, you walk over to it to run your finger over the dials. No TV, but this? My, what taste…you muse.

Suddenly, an idea weasels its way into your head. Almost every time you’ve been in Weems’s presence, she hums. She likes music. This you can work with.

After finishing your gift, you gently place it in the otherwise prepared duffel on her desk. If Principal Weems is concerned she’ll be too under-stimulated in recovery, you’ll ensure that is not the case. You’ve prepared a selection of songs for the woman, ranging from the obvious classical tunes to instrumental covers of pop songs—of which you’re sure the principal will like. You even composed your own piece for her to enjoy. Thankfully your powers lend so well to music generation and compiling for others. You think back to the moments where you could hear certain notes coming from the woman in the halls and faculty meetings. Not quite an aura, but a sonic manifestation of her current state or desires.

Now all that is left is to sign your name to the accompanying letter. Your hand stalls on the page, heart beating rapidly in your chest. Name. On. Letter. Easy. You are disrupted by a knock on the large double doors to Weems’s office. No doubt it is Nevermore’s driver waiting to depart to the hospital. Defeated, you scribble on a post-it note hastily, “Found this on your desk. Not sure who from!”

You’ve never lied to Principal Weems before, but the alternative is too terrifying. You’re not sure such advances would be welcomed with everything that has been going on. Nor if she would even bat an eye at you.

Best to tread carefully…

#love notes....get it??#chapter 1 #larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #principal weems #larissa x reader #principal larissa weems #wednesday #ao3 #fanfiction #oh my goodness this woman is going to kill me?????#gwendoline christie #music teacher #nevermore academy #boss/employee relationship #principal/teacher

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elliemarchetti · 7 months

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The Snake and The Wolf

Chapter 2 - Secrets

I find that the meeting between the High Lords in ACOWAR was attended by more secrets than people, and seen from Eris's point of view… I couldn't resist. I apologize to the readers of @erisweek2023 for this long reminiscence.

Prologue | Chapter 1

Words: 1.106

Eris remembered every moment of their first meeting, what happened before his life was turned upside down and the panic he had to contain afterwards, to maintain the face of cold detachment everyone expected from him. He recalled how they all had made their entrance through the archway, the High Lord and Lady first, as etiquette required, then the Heir and his three tumultuous brothers closing the queue. He still recollected how Helion gave his mother a mocking incline of his dark head, and how he wondered if there was a way to get around the ban that had been imposed on the use of violence. He always had mixed feelings for the High Lord of Day. On one hand, he once saved his mother from a grisly death, on the other, it was his fault if their affair had been exposed and she was always covered in bruises hidden in places no one but her husband and her mute maids could see. He knew nobody would stand between a High Lord and the punishment he chose to inflict on his unfaithful wife, but that didn’t help in diluting his resentment. Luckily, their lovechild hadn’t been present, too occupied in hunting allies in the Continent and dodging armies for an enchanted queen, if what his spies said was true.

“Enough,” he had murmured when Moros started leering at the Princess of Summer, and whether their father had noticed or cared about how his other children instantly fell in line, he didn’t let on, merely stopping halfway across the room, hands folded before him. He had allowed Rhysand to slander him, slander them all, and even asked Tamlin if his alliance really laid not with Prythian but with Hybern. It had been a mistake, exposing himself so much, but Eris barely cared, for his eyes kept being caught by an unfamiliar figure in the Night Court’s retinue, no matter how hard he tried to focus on something else.

“It would seem congratulations are in order,” was the first thing Tamlin had said, the words flat and yet sharp as his talons, hidden beneath the golden skin. Feyre hadn’t replied, while Rhysand only held Tamlin’s stare with a face like ice, utter, cataclysmic rage roiling beneath. He had accused him of being an enemy, and the two of them argued for a long time, a dispute of lovers rather than politicians, nothing that managed to catalyze Eris’s attention enough to make him stop studying the angular line of the stranger’s jaw, or her sharp eyes, who analyzed the scene with cold detachment. She was lethal and perfect, unlike the bats and the Morrigan, who stood still as death, their fury rippling off them in silent waves that even a blind person could’ve seen.

“And here you are, starting another war,” had went on Tamlin, a claw sliding out, alerting the High Lord of Winter, who had tensed and drifted a hand on the arm of his Mate’s chair, while Eris had found himself ready to throw his body in front of Feyre’s sister’s, if danger ever came near her.

“Why are you here, Tamlin?” Kallias had asked, but the High Lord of the Spring Court had his own agenda to pursue, and Eris would’ve gladly let him and Azriel, who growled like a beast, successfully tear each other to pieces for the entertainment of them all if it meant they could get away from there faster. Because in that moment he had felt something snap inside him, the beginning of a bond he wouldn’t have been able to hide any longer if he had been forced to keep watching her while she mocked one of the seven most powerful Fae in Prythian. When Rhysand had taken away his rival’s ability to speak, as reprehensible as Eris found what his powers could do, he almost rejoiced, but the relief had been too short, and before he found himself saying something truly stupid, just like his brother did with the third sister, he insulted the Morrigan, unleashing the ire of the male who drooled over her for four hundred years without being worthy of a glance. Eris knew the truth, he knew what was behind the behaviour of the female who would one day reign over the Hewn City, but just as he had never cared about seeming cruel for what he did back in the days, he hadn’t cared of the consequences in that moment, when his lucidity was clouded from the realization that Nesta Archeron wasn’t simply part of the first High Lady’s family, or the lover of the brute at Rhysand’s command, but also his Mate. It had been a strange thought to have as the Shadowsinger wrapped his scarred hands around his neck.

“I know what she is to you,” he had whispered in his ear before following Feyre’s order, before sitting down between the two sisters, freezing the blood in Eris’s veins. As if in a trance-like state, he had apologized to the Morrigan, ignored his father’s astonishment and almost missed the approval shining on his mother’s face as he settled back into his seat to listen to Nesta’s terrible story, and nearly drown in his own jealousy when she defended Cassian against his father’s viciousness. That day, Beron had exceeded all limits, and as always, it was his family who paid the price, but he also let himself be inspired by the words of a female, although he would’ve never admitted it. For a long second, Eris had feared he might had tore her to pieces right before his eyes, coldly executing her as he did with Jesminda, but Nesta had stood as straight as a pillar of steel, and with determination and ferocity had expressed her animated opinion.

“You may hate us,” she had said, “I don’t care. But I care if you let innocents suffer and die. Fight for them and for your people, because Hybern won’t see a difference. He will massacre everyone on both sides of the Wall, making an example for his next enemies.”

They had left shortly after, with Beron saying he would’ve looked into the matter. Eris had been the last to transmute, confused by the tumult of emotions he felt as he memorized her features. She had looked at him too, her expression still haunting his dreams.

“I’m sure you’ll like her,” he murmured to one of his hounds, as he brushed its short gray fur. He owned twelve of them, deadly hunters gifted with magic of their own but also excellent pets, with those who deserved it.

“We just have to wait a little longer.”

#erisweek2023 #eris vanserra #nesta archeron #feyre archeron #rhysand #helion #beron #kallias #viviane #tamlin #azriel #cassian #mor #neris #nessian #feysand

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