#i Can get to three full pages maybe but that’s the best I can do

[gurugirl]

Sex Tutor

Summary: Harry's got a reputation on campus and you're curious to know if he can help you.

A/N: Requested! Thank y'all for being patient with me! Hope you enjoy! This will be 2 parts!!

Word Count: 10k

Warning: smut (oral sex), fluff, praise kink

. . .

“Yeah… that was good. I liked it.”

That wasn’t the reaction you were hoping to get. You thought Gunther would be a lot more enthusiastic after coming in your mouth and you swallowing him down. You gave it your best work. You even choked a couple of times and you did hear him moan once or twice. But that didn’t feel like enough

You wanted to ask him exactly what went wrong. Tips on what he liked and didn’t. What you could do better next time… But instead, he just smiled and kissed your cheek, avoiding your mouth because obviously kissing the lips that had just sucked his cock would be gross.

So you left his dorm feeling a little disappointed in yourself. Annoyed really. You wished you were more bold and could just ask him what he wanted, what he liked most. You complained to your roommate even. She loved giving advice so you were always venting to her.

“Well, you know there’s like this guy on campus who will walk you through that kind of thing… a sex tutor if you will. Let’s just say that he comes highly recommended. I know someone who hung out with him a few times, and she learned so much about her body and how good sex could feel without coming but he always made her come every time, and no man has ever done that to her before she told me.”

“A tutor for blow jobs?” You scrunched your face and giggled.

“Well, blow jobs and everything else really. I don’t know. He gets around and they say he’s very knowledgeable about the body and sex. I think he’s like getting his masters in sexual health or something?”

You shoved at her shoulder and laughed, “Oh my god I don’t think so. That sounds crazy. He’s probably some weird pervert or something.”

Your roommate turned her cellphone screen to face you, showing you an Instagram page with a photo of a very attractive young man you’d seen on campus a time or two.

“That’s him?” Your eyes widened as you looked from the photo to your roommate.

“Yup. He’s not a weirdo either. I hear he’s super respectful and smart. Plus the bonus is that he looks like this.”

You nodded. That certainly was a bonus. Harry Styles. You knew about him from the student council. He did a lot of volunteering on campus and he was a graduate student so you didn’t know him all that well, being only a sophomore yourself, but it was hard not to at least know the name and the face. He was popular. Clearly far more popular than you even realized.

And you definitely weren’t going to reach out for a “session”. That just felt silly. Though, you couldn’t say you weren’t intrigued by the idea, it just wasn’t for you. Except that when Gunther didn’t text or call you back for three full days, the whole time you wondered if your blow job was that bad. So when he did finally text you back to make plans for the following week, you felt like you were being given another chance to prove how good you could be. And maybe a lesson or two could be useful.

Reaching out to him via DMs on Instagram felt so unserious but you still did it. You cringed as you hit send and read over your message three times.

Hi! I heard you give special “tutoring” sessions and wanted to know if you have some time to meet with me to set something up? Let me know if it’s okay.

You couldn’t believe you were doing this, reaching out to a stranger for, basically, a booty call. But apparently he was used to it and had no qualms about responding to you in less than thirty minutes. As if he was running some kind of business.

Hi! Happy to meet up with you either tonight or Friday night. The initial meeting should only take like 20 minutes, somewhere public so you feel comfortable. I’ll ask you a few questions and then we’ll set up a private one-on-one session together if it makes sense for both of us. No pressure ever. Whenever you’re ready.

Private one-on-one session. You rolled your eyes as you read over Harry’s response.

Tonight is good for me if you can fit me in. Whatever time you want.

You didn’t know what to expect. You imagined he was cocky since he was apparently so good and sought after. Perhaps he would take one look at you and turn around. You were sure he had a say in who he “tutored”. Doubted he took on every single person who reached out to him.

Your roommate said he was respectful but you would place money on the fact that he was probably full of himself, being that he was a self-proclaimed Sex Guru. You were preparing yourself for someone with a larger-than-life personality.

You kept your outfit casual, not wanting to look like you were trying too hard. Jeans and a hoodie. Though you did shower and put on nice panties and made sure you smelled good. Just in case. One never knows when they are due to visit with a sex tutor.

Maud’s was one of your favorite spots on campus. They had the best iced matcha latte and that’s just what you ordered yourself when you arrived. You sat down at a small table and faced toward the door so you could keep an eye out.

You were looking down at your cell phone when you heard the chime of the door. Flitting your eyes up and away from the screen of your phone you scanned the entry and spotted him right away.

He was wearing a black pullover hoodie and jeans. His hair all tousled like he’d just finished a “tutoring” session. You raised your hand to wave at him and catch his attention and he grinned as you stood up but he gestured for you to stay seated, “I’ll be right back. Just gonna order a drink.”

You were already feeling hot and embarrassed. God, what were you doing? The man was sex on legs and that deep, raspy voice he just spoke to you with had your insides twisting and turning all mushy.

When he returned he had an iced tea and he sat across from you. The smile on his face was kind. Open. It set you at ease a bit.

He took a sip through his straw and you noted the rings on his fingers and the nail polish on his nails, “So, Y/n. It’s nice to meet you in person. What are you majoring in?”

Okay. Small talk. You could handle that.

You told him your classes and what you were majoring in and then asked him the same and when he explained he was going for his doctorate in psychology with the intent to become a sex therapist you felt your heart thump wildly. He was gorgeous and going for a doctorate. The man was so beyond out of your league that you wondered why he was even sitting at that table with you entertaining this silly request of yours.

“Wow. That’s… I’m impressed.”

He grinned and you saw a dimple carve into his cheek, “Thank you. I’ve worked really hard to get where I am. Still working, though. So let’s talk about what you want. What things are you interested in getting some guidance on?”

Here it was. The moment you’d been dreading. But also what you were most curious about.

“Well, I’m seeing this guy and,” you took a breath. It was embarrassing to say it so casually at a café on campus of all places.

Harry reached toward you and placed his warm palm over the top of yours, “Hey, I know this feels weird. Doing this. I’m not going to pressure you to say it if you find it’s too uncomfortable but just know,” he dipped his head down to meet your gaze with his brows gently raised, “Everything you tell me here will be kept confidential and private. I’m not going to make fun of you or compare you to anyone else. If you change your mind, that’s okay too. I want you to feel like you’re talking to a friend. Okay? It’s up to you how much or how little you say. We move at your pace.”

You let out the breath you were holding and smiled. He was so – nice. He made you feel so at ease.

“Thank you. It’s weird. Yeah… but I think I’m okay. I want to do this. I want to be better at like,” you looked around yourself and lowered your voice as Harry moved his hand from yours and you settled your gaze back on his, “Better at giving blow jobs. And maybe like initiating more?”

He nodded, “Okay. Have you ever given a blow job before?”

You nodded, “Recently. The guy didn’t seem very enthusiastic about it so I didn’t know if I did something wrong.”

He took a sip of his tea and his green irises bored into yours, “I can tell you one thing I know that is true for nearly every single male I know; they love getting head. Even if he wasn’t vocal he probably really enjoyed whatever you did. Does that make you feel better about your skill level?”

You puffed out a laugh and saw the smirk on his face. He was trying to get you to smile, “I don’t know. Probably. I’m sure I’m overthinking it but I just wanted… like I want to be really good. Want to know tricks to get a real response.”

“Did the guy you’re seeing orgasm?”

You nodded again.

Harry’s grin softened, “Then you did as good as you could have. Goal achieved. He orgasmed and you made that happen.”

“But I want to be better. Like… I really enjoyed what I was doing. Made me really… well���” you looked down at your empty mug and sighed, “I felt like I enjoyed it more than he did.”

He nodded and licked his lips and if you didn’t know any better you’d say he was kind of checking you out. You weren’t wearing anything revealing but he seemed to keep dropping his gaze to your lips and neck. But you figured that was because he was still getting used to your face and he was sussing you out a bit to see if he wanted anything to do with you beyond this conversation.

But that was true. He was checking you out. He saw your Instagram pictures before he contacted you (always his first step) and thought you were cute and wouldn’t mind seeing you in person. He certainly wasn't disappointed by you when he saw you either. You were cute and a little nervous and when you started talking about how you enjoyed giving that loser a blow job he couldn’t help but shift his eyes down to your mouth and imagine what your lips would look like on his cock. He wondered if you’d be just as eager to suck him off as you seemed like you were for the other guy.

Now, Harry was a polite and nice man. He was as respectful as they came. But he was still a man with a very high sex drive and he couldn’t help it. He did enjoy having sex and he got a lot of ass because he was good at what he did. And he was under no allusion that it also didn’t have anything to do with how attractive he was. Because of course, it did. He was aware of the way women looked at him and all the whispers about him on campus. And most of the time the sessions were just fun sex more than anything else. However, he happily gave guidance when needed.

And this time he was feeling pretty gung-ho to see what you could do. He’d like to get started right away, which normally he’d wait until after the initial meeting before jumping into it but there was something about the way you were looking at him, your eyes hungry and inviting…

You watched Harry shift in his chair and look around the café before he looked back at you, “What are you doing right now? Like after this?”

“Oh… nothing. Was gonna read a little, prep for a test I have on Monday. But…” you shook your head.

“Would you be interested in going somewhere more private? My studio is at the off-campus university apartments. Twenty-minute walk from here.”

Was he…? You scrunched your brows, confused at the sudden invite to his place.

“It’s up to you. I’m not rushing you or anything I just have a free evening and you seem really enthusiastic and I’d like to kind of get a feel for what we’re working with. If you think you’re ready.”

You nodded, “Okay. I mean… yeah. So no roommates?” You laughed nervously as he stood up and it was the first time you let your attention fall to the space at his crotch, to which you quickly bobbed your eyes back up to his face as you stood.

“Nope. Co-ed apartments. No roommate. Super private.” He didn’t miss the way you scraped your eyes over his torso and down to the spot on his jeans where his zipper was.

So that was that then. You’d be getting a lesson sooner than you imagined. And when you walked the twenty minutes through campus and the street that was just adjacent to the cafeteria you could almost hear your heart pounding. He was taller than you expected. He easily kept the conversation alive with small talk. He seemed so confident and easygoing. You tried to let that charisma and charm soak through your veins so that you weren’t as nervous as you felt, but it was impossible. You were about to go into Harry Style’s apartment alone and probably give him a blow job.

Harry waved at a few people on your way up to his floor. He was clearly popular. You wondered if anyone knew what might be happening. Why you were with him and why you were following behind him like you were a pup being trained and he was carrying a treat.

“Here she is,” he opened his door and gestured for you to walk inside. Neat and tidy with stacks of books and lots of plants. Some plants hanging, most potted, and on the floor or on tables. You noted he had no television and that there was a big partition that separated the small living space from what was probably where he had his bed. The kitchen was organized with open shelving and he’d bought a wire rack and it was stacked full of packaged foods, spices, oil, and other things to cook with at the top and at the bottom with pots and pans and a blender with its cord neatly wrapped around the base.

He excused himself to the bathroom while you looked around. There wasn’t anywhere to go really. There were two doors in the whole place. The bathroom door and another one, which you assumed was a closet. The kitchen area was open to the small living space.

When Harry emerged he sat down on the couch, which looked well-worn. You wondered how many people he’d had over and on that very couch. He sat with his legs spread and drew his arms over the back of the couch and just watched as you stepped in closer toward the small coffee table, “I like all the plants,” you commented.

He nodded and you clasped your hands behind your back in wait for what would happen next. You didn’t want to look again at his crotch. But the way he was sitting made it hard. He took up so much space on that couch and with his legs spread open like they were, it was almost as if he wanted you to.

“Gonna sit with me? I’m not gonna do anything if you don’t want.”

You nodded and sat down, keeping your limbs close to your body and separate from him. You didn’t want to invade his space or get in too close. Not yet anyway. Not until he invited you. Or rather, until he told you what to do next.

“Everything I said at Maud’s still stands. If you change your mind that’s fine. I’m not going to be mad.”

You turned to look at him and swallowed. The guy was out of this world. Simply delicious looking. “Okay.” You spoke in barely above a whisper.

Harry leaned forward, putting his elbows over his knees as he kept his eyes on you, “Is this how you usually initiate?”

You raised your brows and shook your head, “What?”

“You said you wanted to be better at initiating. So far, I’m not getting any signals that you’re interested. Could be your first problem. Try relaxing a little, Y/n. Sit back and unhook your fingers. Loosen your shoulders. Not only will you feel more settled, but you’ll make the person with you feel better too. Which could push you to naturally begin conversation or movements that encourage contact.”

“Oh. Okay,” you sat back into his couch and loosed your hands, relaxing your posture, and looked at him, “Like this?”

Harry grinned and let out a small laugh, “Perfect. Now at least it appears you’re not scared of me.”

“I’m not scared,” you quickly shook your head.

“I didn’t think you were. But your body language was giving closed-off signals. Which could appear to some like fear or discomfort.”

It made sense you guessed.

“I see. So, relax and it makes everyone feel better.”

He grinned, “So tell me what normally happens when you’re with someone and it leads to something sexual. Set the scene for me.”

You cleared your throat and decided to use your last time with Gunther as the example.

“Well, we were in his dorm room listening to music and laughing about something–“

“Back up a little. Did you invite yourself to his room? Did he invite you? What happened before you got to his room?”

“Oh, uh…” you pursed your lips in thought. “Well, we were out with two mutual friends. At a bar. Gunther, his name is Gunther, he was kind of flirting with me and I liked it. We didn’t really know each other all that well before but I always found him interesting. And so… he was flirting with me. Complimenting me. Things like that. Then he asked me to go back to his room with him. So, I sort of figured something would happen,” you shrugged. You didn’t know why it was so weird telling him all those details but it was.

You recounted how Gunther had made all the moves; kissed you first, groped you and then somehow it ended up with you sucking him off while he laid back on his bed and you were between his legs.

“And… he didn’t return the favor? Like you didn’t get anything?”

You shook your head, “I mean, I didn’t ask. He got off and then that was it really. I left not long after.”

Harry frowned, “Okay. And did you hope he’d do something in return? Like, use his hands or his mouth on you? Did you want more?”

Another shrug of your shoulders, “I mean… I didn’t expect it. Thought maybe next time we could do more? I don’t know.”

“You didn’t expect it. But would you have liked it?”

Nodding your head you looked away from his eyes, “I guess.”

“Did it turn you on?”

Another embarrassing thing to admit to someone you hardly knew. You nodded again, “It just all happened really quickly. I kind of thought things would take longer and we’d chat and maybe he’d have me stay longer and then… well anyway. It was like a total of thirty minutes or something that I was in his room.”

Harry sighed and crossed his leg over his thigh toward you, “And you really want to give Gunther the best head you can? The guy who wasn’t worried about your own needs? Seems very selfless of you, Y/n.”

You let out a breath and laughed, “I know. I just want to be good at it. And that was the first time we did anything so I figured I’d give him a pass.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you. Gunther is lucky you’re still willing to give him another shot.”

“I guess I thought if I was better he’d want to do it more and maybe then we could do other things too.”

“I’m going to be honest, Y/n,” Harry stretched his arm across the back of the couch, “You’re very cute and you probably won’t need to worry much about initiating most of the time. Like, for me, all you have to do is look at me with those pretty eyes and I’m ready to do whatever you want me to.”

It had been a surprise to hear that. You weren’t sure what to do with that information but you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you looked down at your lap.

“But a good start is to keep eye contact. At least enough to indicate interest. Can you look at me?”

Lifting your gaze to his he grinned, “There we go. So pretty.”

You shook your head, “I’m sure you say that to everyone.”

Harry lifted his hand to your cheekbone, “No. I don’t. And I don’t do this with just anyone either. Sometimes I turn down a request. I don’t tell them why but… There’s gotta be attraction on my end as well. And I find you very attractive, Y/n.”

You swallowed down the saliva in your throat and blinked for a break in eye contact before biting your lip.

“Now, even though we’re here for one thing, I do have opinions on matters of the heart and relationships. And frankly, I have to be honest about this Gunther, guy,” he dropped his hand, making his fingers brush down your cheek until he was no longer touching you, “I don’t like that he didn’t offer to get you off too. That’s a big red flag in my book. I feel it’s important to give and to receive unless it’s explicitly stated at the beginning. But you told me you thought you’d get more. And that bothers me.”

“Well, he’s a nice guy. I think he just wasn’t thinking…”

“He wasn’t thinking about your needs. That was selfish of him and something to watch out for. We can give him a pass for the first time, but if you see him again and he still doesn’t think about your needs, I’d hope you’d end that relationship and seek someone who’s willing to be less selfish with you.”

It surprised you that Harry was saying that about Gunther. But perhaps he was right. You did leave his dorm that night quite disappointed.

“I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. I know you barely know me but that’s just my take. I’d never not offer to return the favor,” he kept his eyes on yours and you swore his lips were suddenly a shade darker. They looked like the perfect lips to kiss.

He grinned when he noted where your eyes were homed in on, “Do you mind coming closer? Feels like you're still too far away.”

You puffed out a nervous laugh as you scooted your bottom in closer toward Harry. His arm was draped over the back of the couch behind you and you felt the warmth of him before you felt his fingers graze the back of your neck.

 “So, I can kiss you? Can we start there?”

You breathed out through your nose and smiled as you nodded and kept your face angled toward his. He watched as you hesitantly put your palm on his knee and he put his hand over yours, “You’re a natural. See?”

Another soft laugh fell from your mouth as Harry’s face drew in closer to yours and your heart stopped as he nudged his nose into yours and you felt his soft lips smush against yours.

It didn’t take long for you to start feeling that familiar heat between your legs as he ran his tongue against yours. It felt so intimate… not like a tutor lesson or anything of the sort. It was you and a handsome man making out on his couch as he pulled you onto his lap. It felt real.

For some reason, you imagined it being a little more dry. Like a real lesson. Like he’d pull his pants down and tell you what to do and show you what he liked and what really made men go wild. You hadn’t imagined kissing being part of the equation for some reason.

“Did he tell you how soft your lips are or how those sweet little noises coming from your mouth drove him crazy?”

He spoke his words between kisses and you were going to pass out. Because no, Gunther gave you no compliments once you got into his dorm room.

You shook your head as you parted from the kiss, your eyes on his.

Harry’s eyes roved your face as he softly dragged his thumb back and forth on your jaw, “I don’t like him one bit. You deserve someone who’s going to tell you how good you are and how good you make them feel.”

He softly pressed his lips against yours again, the kiss heating up into a frenzied pace once again as you stuffed your fingers into his hair and then you felt the bulk of his erection under your thigh when you moved in closer.

Parting from the kiss you looked down and then back up at him and he just smiled. Like it was the most normal and natural thing ever. Which… it kind of was.

“Got me all hard already,” he slid his thumb from the edge of your bottom lip inward and you moaned, “Just like that. You’re already better than you think you are. You’re driving me crazy, Y/n. I want to see what these lips look like wrapped around my cock. Can we do that?”

You nodded and began to move off of him but Harry took your hand in his, making you pause, “I’ll let you get me off if you let me get you off too. Okay?”

Your eyes widened, “Really? I thought this was just for–“

“I have a method and it always includes getting the other person off too. Or at least making them feel good. Unless you don’t want that. That’s okay too, but I would prefer to touch you as well.”

“Okay,” your words were breathy as he helped you off his lap, keeping your hand in his but then he stood up and you watched as he ran his free hand over his crotch, “Is it okay if we do it my bed? A little more space there. Think it’ll feel less rushed.”

Obviously yes. You wouldn’t dream of saying no to this man. Not that you wanted to.

The space behind the partition was just a bed and one side table. His bed was neatly made and there was a plant hanging by the opening of the partition. He gestured for you to follow him onto his mattress and he placed his back at the wall, where he had no headboard.

Kneeing up to him you were feeling shy again and he leaned forward and cupped your face with one hand, “You’re doing so good. If you need to stop at any time just say the word. I’m not here to make you do something you don’t want. Okay?”

You nodded, “Yeah. I know. I trust you.”

“Good. Just wanted to remind you is all. I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep going even if I’m enjoying it, which I have a feeling I’m gonna like whatever you do to me.”

You giggled and nodded. He was fluffing up your ego and you hadn’t even really gotten started yet.

Harry started to push his jeans down, lifted his hips to get them off his legs, and then kept his eyes on you as he held his hand out for you to take, “Come here.”

You put your hand in his and let yourself get pulled between his legs as you looked down at the sizable lump under his boxer briefs, “Can we take your jeans off? Kind of want to have you in my lap a little while before we get down to it, yeah?”

You nodded and unhooked your button before pulling your zipper down. Harry’s hands found your hips as you tugged your jeans down and he helped you out of them, leaving you in just your hoodie and panties. Like Harry. He was just in his boxer briefs and his hoodie too.

You crawled into his lap, your thighs straddling his, and sat down as Harry smoothed his hands up and down your thighs, “There we go. This feels nice, having you close like this,” he ran his palms toward your bottom and then back down your thighs to your knees, “How are you feeling?”

You put your palms on his shoulders, “Good. Feel good. And you?”

“I’m feeling great. I’ve got you here in my lap,” he brought a hand up from your thigh to your face, his fingers sliding behind your ear with his thumb at your cheekbone, “And I like you. I think this’ll be fun. Just want you to feel at ease with me.”

You shifted on his lap, getting in closer, “I do feel at ease with you, Harry. You’re really nice.”

“Good. That’s what I want to hear,” his voice was soft as he gently pulled you towards him and pressed his mouth against yours again. His kiss was soft and sultry. Harry was far more sensual than you imagined he would be. Lots of soft touches and reassuring words. And his mouth against yours was addictive.

You moaned when his thumb ran along the edge of your panties at your thigh and you rocked your hips down, pressing your panties-covered pussy over his erection.

He inhaled softly through his teeth and lowered his mouth to your neck where you were melted into him. His warm mouth sponged wet kisses down your pulse point as you lowered a hand to the top of his cock.

He sighed when you began to rub your palm over him and you began to move back. You were ready to get him in your mouth.

“You can bring me out if you want. Or I can do it. Whichever you’re more comfortable with.”

You bit your lip and continued palming over him as you kept your gaze focused on his, “I’ll do it. Do guys like that more?”

He grinned and the dimples that carved into his cheeks had you swooning, “Yeah. Maybe. Depends on the guy but it can feel like the girl is really excited, like she can’t wait – the enthusiasm is nice. For me? I do like it more. But honestly, I wouldn’t complain if you wanted me to do it myself.”

You nodded in understanding as you focused on the dark green material of his underwear and reached toward the waistband. You looked up at him once more to check in and he just gave you a singular nod to keep going so you did.

The material was warm and stretchy. And you loved the way it felt to run your palm up the length of him, before peeling the fabric away and slowly revealing his cock. His tip was thick and smooth and dark pink. And then his shaft was girthy, quite meaty really, but so stiff. And when you’d pulled his underwear down far enough you took the whole of him in and it was… well it was a bit overwhelming. There was no way on God’s green earth you’d be able to stick that whole thing in your mouth.

“You don’t have to have it all in there. This isn’t a porno. I don’t need you to choke on it or anything like that. Use your hands and your mouth, as long as it’s nice and wet it’s gonna feel really good.”

You nodded. It was a relief that he wasn’t expecting you to deepthroat that thing, “Do you like it when someone can take it all the way?”

Harry breathed a laugh out of his nostrils, “Well… only if the person giving head likes that kind of thing. I would never enjoy it if someone wasn’t into that. But yes. I do rather like it. Not more than any other type of blow job, though.”

You gulped and continued palmed at his length softly. Harry kept his eyes on you to watch how you’d do it. To see what your go-to move was and when you made no move he finally spoke, “Go in however you want. Let’s see how you normally go about giving a blow job.”

“Okay. Yeah…” You took a deep breath and lowered yourself down as he fixed his feet flat on the mattress with knees bent upward, making space for you to fit between his thighs. First, you spat over his tip and used your hand to rub your saliva down his shaft. A quick glance up at him and he looked like he was enjoying it.

After spitting another glob over his slit that clung to your lips a little longer than it did the first time things were feeling much wetter. You stroked along the full length of his cock, from base to tip, tip to base, and back again as you lowered further, getting your lips just over his tip, and looked up at him, swiping your tongue over his crown. Smooth and warm. Adjusting your hips you got into a better position and gripped his base with both hands as you began to take him in your mouth. Your tongue cupped the underside of his cock as you dipped down and pulled up, suckling at his tip before repeating.

Harry’s fingers gently pushed at your chin, “I’d like you to do one thing for me, Y/n…” your eyes shot up to his, “Can you keep your eyes on me, just like you’re doing right now?”

You pulled off and nodded, “Yeah. Sorry.”

Harry tutted at you, “You didn’t do anything wrong. Just really fond of your pretty eyes. Personal preference is all.”

Keeping your gaze on his you kissed his tip softly and slowly before tonguing at his frenulum. It was a good thing you were looking at him in that moment because the expression on his face as you ran your tongue along the underside of his cockhead was lascivious and the sudden heat between you two might not have been noticed if you hadn’t been looking at him.

When you lowered your lips over him again, hollowing your cheeks and cupping the underside of his dick with your tongue, he palmed over your cheek and softly thumbed at your temple, “Y/n… fuck… that’s really good. Keep looking at me like this pretty girl.”

The soft touch from his hand and thumb on your face was full of affection and made your heart thunder in your chest. It made you dizzy the way he was looking at you. It was such a lewd act but somehow filled with tenderness.

The drool that leaked out of your mouth and down his shaft allowed your hands to slip around his base, twisting as you bobbed over the first bit of him with your mouth. It seemed like he was really enjoying what you were doing. Having your eyes on him while you were doing it felt more encouraging than embarrassing.

And Harry was very much enjoying what you were doing. He wasn’t all that picky when it came to getting blow jobs. Why would he be? Some hot girl wanted him to show her how to be better? Well, he rarely did much in the way of making someone any better than they already were.

Harry never intended to be known as a sex tutor or a sex guru. He was just a guy who loved sex. A guy who was patient and who really did care about the person he was with, even if it was just a one-time thing (which most of them were). And his line of studies gave him insight many lacked. The more he slept around (safely) the better he got and the more he understood. He put into practice the things he learned in his classes and when he was a Junior after a string of hookups with a group of very popular seniors he started to get a reputation.

It started with comments and discussions on the size of his cock. Then it eventually escalated to him being very good in bed. And how he could always make a woman come (he didn’t always make them come but he certainly tried and he learned the art of allowing sex to just be something that felt good and intimate and didn’t have to end in that elusive orgasm every time).

The first girl who was bold enough to ask him if he’d help her get to know her body better, had told him how she heard he was the best… and that had caught off guard. But he gave it a go. And he wound up enjoying the whole thing so much that when another girl asked him for help he decided there was no harm in going along with it.

He wasn’t trying to take advantage of anyone, as some jealous of his prowess would make it seem. No, he just really wanted to help, he loved that connection and to have it end with sex (in whatever form) was never a bad thing. Mostly he was just having fun and if he could use some of his knowledge and give someone confidence by the end of a “session” then so be it.

When you sucked around him, slurping noises came from between your lips and the skin on his shaft and he moaned, “Oh that’s good…” He gently placed a hand at the back of your neck and nudged his hips upward the slightest when he felt his cock start to throb and balls tightened.

Harry pulled at you to bring you up so you slid your lips from his tip and looked at him with pretty rounded eyes as you sat on your knees.

“You’re perfect. If I had you sucking me off like this every day I’d have no complaints. That’s the work of someone who’s into it and I can tell you are. Got me so close to coming already,” he took your hand and kissed the tops of your knuckles. Yeah, you were already smitten with him. But maybe that was just because you liked his praise so much.

“Thank you,” you grinned shyly.

Harry took the hand he kissed and brought it down between his legs, sliding your fingers on the underside of his balls, “There’s this spot right here. Kind of smooth. Feel that?”

You nodded.

“It’s called the perineum. This spot,” he pressed the pad of your middle finger over the area of skin, “Feels really good when you rub it gently. Especially while you’re also giving a blow job. Maybe take my balls in your palm a little to massage them and then move to the perineum. Just about any man you suck off is gonna absolutely love it. It’s also a really good trick when you just want the guy to come already, ‘cause maybe he’s taking too long,” he grinned.

He dragged your hand up to cup his scrotum and you kept your eyes on his as you softly squeezed. Harry’s brows narrowed and his lips parted, “Let’s do that yeah? Wanna give it a go?”

Nodding, you lowered yourself again, your lips parting around his crown as you gently massaged his balls and kept your eyes angled up toward his. You kept one hand at the base of his shaft and felt the full, warmth of his sac in your palm before you pulled off of his cock and dropped your lips down to his balls, kissing the skin all around and skimming your tongue through every crevice and wrinkle, wetting him on all sides.

You remembered you were supposed to be looking up at him and when you saw his face it only egged you on. His soft groan and pink puffy lips parted in lust with hooded eyes so you wound your tongue down further and pressed the tip of your wet muscle to the spot he called the perineum.

“Fuck! Yes…”

You liked that reaction. So you did it again and used your hand on his shaft to continue pumping him in long strokes as you pressed over the small strip of skin under his scrotum before you brought your tongue all the way up over his balls and to his base. The pre-come dripping from his tip made things wetter as you slid your palm over him.

You kept one finger on his perineum and then brought your mouth back over his cock and the desperate whimper that fell from his lungs made you feel giddy. You sucked him in and flicked your sight up to him but his eyes were closed. You could feel his legs trembling as your shoulder was pressed into his inner thigh. Gently you brought your hand over his scrotum and massaged as you worked his tip with your lips and tongue.

He placed both of his hands on either side of your head, “Y/n… yes… honey I’m gonna come. That’s so good. You’re so good for me… holy shit… where do you want me to come, huh?”

You were kind of amazed at how he was so melty and whimpery from the blow job you were giving him. You lifted and looked up at him, “Just come in my mouth. Want you to feel good.”

He nodded as he panted and you put your lips back on him, lowering down and sucking as you used your tongue to apply pressure to his crown. Continuing to play with his balls and peek up at him you saw the moment his face scrunched up and his lips dropped open wide. No sound came out at first but you tasted the first pump of his come down your throat and then felt his big cock throbbing against your tongue and it was the hottest blow job you’d ever given. And you weren’t even receiving… the reaction he gave you had you so turned on and so dizzy that you felt the need to take him deeper.

You forced yourself down further, feeling his tip nudging and spurting at the top part of your throat and you swallowed around him before sputtering slightly.

When he finally began to moan it was deep and throaty. His head was tilted back, facing the ceiling as he pumped into your mouth and down your throat. The hands he held at the side of your face were gentle and honestly? You were in heaven. You could do this with him every day if he let you.

And you tried not comparing Gunther to Harry but it was hard. Harry was so masculine and his cock was prettier and much bigger. With Gunther, you could almost take all of him in your mouth without much issue. You didn’t but you probably could have. Harry was a different story. His big cock filled up all the space in your mouth and he smelled so good too. It was a mix of what you assumed was his natural smell with a clean powdery soap.

But it was the moans Harry was making that had you feeling so worked up. He really enjoyed your blow job and that was all you needed to feel good about yourself and your ability.

Harry’s moan quieted into a simper as you continued dragging your tongue along the underside of his cock until he lulled his head forward and looked down at you, “S’good. Fuck that was good.” He prodded at you to bring your mouth off of him and you sat back with a proud smile.

He leaned forward to pull at the back of your neck and smash his lips against yours. You clung onto his shoulders as he positioned you next to him on the bed on your bottom and then he ran his hands down your sides and pulled at your sweater, “Can we get this off?”

You gripped the bottom hem of your hoodie as Harry sat back and peeled his sweater off over his head, making you pause so you could devour his chest and his arms, and his abs with your eyes. The tattoos that were scattered over his body and on his arms were no surprise. You’d heard through the grapevine about his tattoos once your roommate told you about him. And you heard he was fit. But this? He was the perfect amount of muscled and beefy. He was lean but he appeared well-fed. Broad shoulders, pecs you could bite into…

You gulped when you felt Harry’s big hands smoothing up and down your limbs as he absorbed the sight of you before you finally pulled your sweater off and then unhooked your bra, holding the cups up against your breasts for a moment to make sure he was still in it. Because maybe your body would be a complete turn off but his expressive face did all the talking and he moved his hands up your hips as his irises roamed over your skin.

“So pretty, Y/n,” he spoke like he knew you needed the reassurance. Which you did. So you slowly lowered your bra and pulled the straps from your arms and almost immediately Harry ducked down and kissed your right nipple while his hand palmed at your left tit. He moaned against your soft flesh and you felt cool air hit your skin in the path where his tongue laved against you.

A soft gasp fell from your lips when he wrapped his mouth over your nipple and looked up at you from his spot, pink lips suckling at your breast. It was almost as if he needed to make sure he was doing what you liked. As if the man wasn’t some kind of expert.

Harry’s bulky body moved over you and his hands brushed over the skin at your sides and down to your hips where your panties clung tight. You lifted your hips, ready for him to take care of you, ready to have him pull the last bit of fabric from your body and Harry grinned at you.

“I’m gonna pull these down, okay?”

Nodding you laughed in slight nervousness. You weren’t sure when you’d gotten so eager but giving Harry a blow job had made you a bit insatiable and all of the nice things he said about you, how good you were... Your insides were aching and you knew you were probably already wet, the crotch of your panties was warm against your skin.

And as he slowly dragged the material down your legs he kept looking up at you. A little bit of reassurance that he was only going to go as far as you wanted.

Paying close attention to his eyes you watched him drag his gaze over all your crevices and then up to your tits and then your eyes as he licked his lips. He wrapped a hand on the underside of your calf, lifting your leg the smallest bit as he tucked himself in closer, his shoulders pressing into your thighs.

The warm, soft kisses he dotted on your inner thigh as he looked up at you made you feel worshiped. Like he was savoring the moment and was going to take his time with you.

“Y/n, I just want to make you feel good. Tell me if you don’t like something or if you need something more okay? Because you did so good for me and I’m gonna be dreaming about those lips on me. Just want to make you feel as good as good as you made me feel.”

Harry could tell you liked a bit of praise. A compliment here and there was easy enough to throw in because it was all true. You were very good and you were so pretty and now he was going to return the favor as best he could.

When you felt his tongue swipe up through your crease you moaned faintly as you kept your eyes on him. And when he dug in more, attached his lips to your pussy, and began sucking at you the groan that fell from his chest rumbled through your core and you held on to the back of his head as you arched your back off of the pillow under yourself. His lips slicked up and down, tongue pressing at your clit and then he moved, bringing his arm in and you felt his fingers prodding at your entrance as he looked up at you, pulling his mouth away from your pussy, “Tastes so good, Y/n. Could bury my face here all day long. You mind if I finger you a little? Would that feel good?”

He ran his digits through your folds like he already knew your answer and you nodded quickly, “Yeah. Okay. If you want.”

He grinned before you felt him push his middle finger past your opening and then he watched the face you made as he curled his finger up in your magic little spot. The one only your rabbit vibrator seemed to be able to hit.

You gasped and with that, he brought his lips back over your clit and got to work. His dark curls were smooth and thick between your fingers and the way he kept pulling his gaze up to yours as he licked into you was naughty. The whole scene was something from a dream. There was something so soft about how he kept his eyes on you to check-in.

You’d had a couple of guys go down on you before but they had no idea what they were doing and you weren’t sure if it was just supposed to feel like slippery nothing gliding over your labia or not. But now, with Harry doing the work… well you realized what it was actually meant to feel like. And Harry was not giving you slippery nothing.

He seemed to enjoy it as well which made your heart lurch in your chest. Especially with how he was moaning into you like you tasted good. And he had told you as much, which… that had you on edge already.

When Harry slid in a second finger he opened his mouth wide and tongued up from where his fingers were pumping into you to your clit.

You couldn’t help the pathetic moans that were loudly bouncing off the walls of his studio, “Oh god, Harry…”

But the thing that was really seeping into your skin and your veins and making your heart pound was his eyes on yours. You couldn’t get over it. It was so intimate and sexy and the gushy noises coming from your slippery pussy were lewd and dirty. It was the perfect juxtaposition of just nasty enough but also sweet and soft that had you spiraling.

When they tell you that the biggest part of getting turned on is all in the mind, that’s absolutely true. Harry was a master at it. You weren’t sure you’d ever been so turned on with any man before. He really knew which buttons to push and all the right things to say.

“Fuck, that’s good… holy shit, Harry…”

He loved hearing you whine his name and the feel of your hips bucking upward in tiny bursts. You were one of those girls that was going to have an orgasm, he just knew it. The way you kept getting wetter every time you shot your eyes down to his was a big telltale sign. Some didn’t like the eye contact but he loved it and so did you, clearly.

He moaned into your pussy and swallowed you down as he worked his tongue in teasing circles around your clit before wrapping his lips around you again and smushing down over you with just the right amount of pressure.

The arm he had under your thigh he wrapped under your lower back, pulling you in closer if that was possible, as he continued fingering you with his other hand. The man was unquenchable. Like he needed to stuff his face in as close as humanly possible. Like he needed to suck you dry and make it so that you never forgot his name.

Your insides were melting for him. His fingers were magic inside of you and it had your brain all fuzzed out and blurry. But the way he rolled your clit under his tongue was divine, otherworldly… he knew what he was doing with that big mouth of his.

You gasped and looked back down at him again and his eyes were already pinned to yours.

“Oh… gonna co… oh fuck, gonna come…” you felt like you were being lifted into the air, levitating and vibrating off the bed and out of the atmosphere as he kept his fingers and his tongue steady. But when he moaned deeply into your cunt, that low resonate sensation traveling from your clit to your core and through your tummy made you lose control.

You didn’t realize you were yanking his hair as your legs quaked and your body liquified under him. But it didn’t deter him. He watched you unravel, tits bouncing and back arching as you orgasmed into his mouth and he curled his fingers up against your g-spot as you clamped over his digits.

If he didn’t have his mouth occupied he would have praised you more in that moment. Told you how pretty you were and how good you did for him. But he waited until you began to slowly come back to earth before whispering into your ear the sweet things he knew you’d like to hear.

He laid next to you and grasped your face, kissing your lips softly as you sighed, “So fucking good. What a pretty orgasm that was, Y/n…” He spoke between kisses.

“Did that all for me? Yeah?”

You couldn’t answer him. Not in that moment. You’d just melted and dissolved and had only begun to re-solidify and become a real human with lungs and limbs and skin and pores again.

“You are really fun to eat out, Y/n. Tasted so nice and you sound so sexy when you come. You can call me anytime you need a release okay?” He continued kissing your cheek and your lips as he spoke softly.

Harry didn’t rush you out like you thought he might. He rubbed over your tummy and kissed your breasts softly and ran his lips up the side of your neck as you slowly opened your eyes and sighed.

“Feel okay?”

You nodded and smiled, “Really good.”

“Stay as long as you want. Okay? No rush. We can even grab dinner together if you want or I can make you something.” Harry wasn’t sure why he asked you that. While he didn’t usually rush anyone out, he didn’t typically offer food or dinner either. There was just something about you that compelled him to ask. Perhaps he hoped you’d stick around a bit longer.

You sat up, “Oh. That’s really nice of you. But… maybe I should probably head back. Get some schoolwork done.”

You’d have loved to stay for dinner but you also didn’t want to get your feelings mixed up for a guy like Harry. Not that there was anything wrong with him, but you understood what this was. A one-time thing. Something fun where you got to learn a thing or two. If you stuck around too long you’d probably just want more. And that would only end in heartbreak for you. Because Harry was kind of the ideal guy in a lot of ways.

“Of course. Just thought I’d ask.”

There were no hard feelings for this kind of thing. Harry wasn’t offended that you didn’t want to stay. He’d had a good time with you and he was almost certain you had a good time as well. And that was just about all one could ask for.

Harry let you use his bathroom to clean up and get dressed. And as you did so you thought about how Gunther didn’t even offer you anything to eat or to stay after. In fact he didn’t even ask if you wanted to use his bathroom, when that would have been nice after giving him head. Because even though Gunther didn’t really touch you, you were still wet, and walking back to your dorm with wet panties was not a nice feeling. Especially when you didn’t even get anything out of it.

You’d be wary of Gunther. You’d give him another shot because you were a nice girl but you weren’t going to ignore the concerns Harry had. Perhaps Harry was right.

When you stepped out of the bathroom Harry handed you a glass of water, “Drink a little before you head out, and what dorm do you live in?” He looked down at his phone as he asked.

“Oh… uh the Millennium dorms near the arts building.”

He nodded as you took a gulp of the water and he showed you his phone, “Uber will be here for you in three minutes. I’ll walk you down, okay?”

“Wait. You didn’t have to do that! Um… I can walk or get an Uber myself it’s–“

He shook his head and grinned, “I know I didn’t have to but it’s getting late. Don’t want you walking twenty minutes by yourself. Who knows what could be lurking out there,” he laughed.

You pointed at him, “Fine. But I’m gonna pay you back. Next time I see you okay?”

“Not necessary. Now come on,” he playfully swatted at your bottom and directed you toward his door, “Let’s go downstairs and wait for…” he looked at his phone, “Rebecca in a white Trail Blazer.”

PART 2

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[messyoungie]

SELF CARE DAY FOR LOW ENERGY DAYS

it’s important to have different routines ready to match your mood and energy level. which is why I believe preparing for self care days for when you’re just not feeling your best is essential and a great way to look out for yourself. here’s my guide to self care days for low energy.

✧ 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓

despite your low energy, it’s important you still get your daily movement. however, exercise doesn’t always have to be intense.

try doing one of these

— 2 minutes of touching/trying to touch your toes

— 5-7 minutes of full body stretching

— 10 minutes of yoga

or maybe just stretch your neck, roll your shoulders, and take a few deep breaths. whatever you’re ready to do :)

links to short low energy workouts:

5 minute morning yoga

11 minute stress relief yoga

10 minute lazy girl workout

8 minute good morning pilates

✧𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃

do something for your mind. journal, get your thoughts out, meditate, read five pages of an inspiring book. do something that you will love and that your mind will thank you for. whether it’s sitting in silence for a few minutes or playing a game that’ll challenge your brain.

journaling prompts <3

++ what’s been draining your energy recently?

++ what’s been giving you positive energy recently?

++ what’s your focus been on lately?

++ what are three things you’re happy are in your life?

++ how is my environment impacting my energy?

if your energy is low I really recommend writing about it. what’s making you tired? reflect on it and go easy on yourself.

✧𝐓𝐎 𝐃𝐎 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

the last thing you want to do is give your mind the responsibility of remembering your tasks. i don’t care how little you have on your schedule, write a to do list. on a low energy day, it’s important we’re easy on ourselves. getting everything out of our head and onto a piece of paper will not only make tasks seem more manageable but will also make our minds feel a bit lighter.

write everything. I mean it. even the small and seemingly insignificant tasks. even the parts of your routine that you do everyday anyways, write it all down.

✧𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒

even though we’re a little bit down, that doesn’t mean we can cheat on the promises and boundaries we made with ourselves.

a low energy day doesn’t mean you can jump right back into your old habits. you’ll only feel worse if you do. it can be comforting to spend the whole day in bed, liking relatable TikToks and having a 7 hour screen time. but that’s not real rest. do something that’ll nourish you while also making you feel relaxed and comfortable. whether that’s watching an episode of your comfort show, rereading a chapter of your favorite book, or listening to your all time favorite songs while you just relax.

low energy is not a reason to practice unhealthy bad habits.

✧𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐘

how do we enjoy a low energy self care day besides the usual rest and relaxation? by doing some activities!!

things you can do on a low energy self care day:

++paint

++do your own nails

++movie marathon of your fave genre

++install and try out different cute & cozy games on your device

++bubble bath

++make a Pinterest board or Moodboard that will inspire you to be the best version of yourself

thank you for reading, take care!! ♡

— messyoungie

#self care day #self care #skin care #healing girl era #it girl #pink #pink pilates girl #pink pilates princess #self improvement #that girl #the wizard liz #wonyoung motivation #wonyoungism #jennie kim #becoming her #becoming that girl #green juice girl #dream girl life #glow up #dream girl tips #it girl tips #it girl moodboard #it girl lifestyle #dream girl #it girl energy #confidence #self love #thewizardliz #high maintenance #pink princess

[phantomarine]

Clam's Quick Tips for Starting Your Very First Webcomic

Howdy! Here are the three bits of advice I tend to give people who ask me about getting into webcomic-making. Maybe they can help you jump into the fray with a little less fear.

1) Make Your First Chapter a Pilot Episode

You will be told by webcomic veterans to start with a short, simple comic idea first - which is wise - but if all you can think about is your big magnum opus, then you might as well hop in, right? Otherwise you'll just be glancing back at the other cooler project forever.

But if you can't start with a small simple story, start on a small, simple part of that larger story. Your first chapter should be a snapshot of the main conflict - show us a simple scene with few characters, ease us in slowly, keep things clear and focus on emotion/impact/clarity. Get the audience to care by offering something easily digested, but full of promise.

Once you're done with that 'pilot' chapter, and you're feeling more comfortable with the whole comic process, you can open the gates and show us the larger world. At that point, you'll be way more ready.

2) Simplify Your Art Style For Your Own Sanity

Always try to make your webcomic's art style as simple as possible - the standard rule is to use only 75% of your artistic skill for every comic page you make. Otherwise you will burn out quickly and terribly.

But you also need to be PROUD of your art style. If you're really feeling itchy, add a couple bells and whistles to your style so you can look at the finished page and say "Yeah, looks cool." You'll find the right balance the more you draw.

Also, don't be afraid to change your art style as you go along. Ultimate consistency is often impossible in webcomics anyway - so embrace your desire to try new things, streamline your work, whatever you feel needs to happen to be happiest. Sometimes the coolest part of reading a webcomic is noticing that style change - so don't hesitate to embrace it!

3) Resist the Reboot! RESIST!

The curse/blessing of drawing the same things over and over is that you'll inevitably get better at drawing those things. The trouble comes when you look back at old stuff and start thinking "Damn, I could draw that way better now."

You must recognize that this feeling never goes away. Not after a hundred pages. Not after three hundred. Not after a thousand.

I think everyone should be allowed one soft reboot for their first webcomic. Redraw some panels that bother you. Change up some dialogue if it doesn't make sense with your new story ideas. Do maintenance, basically. One of the beauties of webcomics is that they can be easily edited, without reprinting a whole book or remaking a whole game.

But if the ultimate purpose of a webcomic is to tell a story, then constant reboots will just be retelling the same story - slightly better each time, but the same at its core. We've heard it before. Most audiences would rather you save your strength and just keep going, rather than circling back year after year and going "Wait wait wait! I'll do it better this time."

Reboot early, not often, and only when you absolutely must! You're a storyteller, and you're constantly getting better at telling your story. Don't be ashamed of it - look back how much ground you've covered, and keep walking!

---

That's a good start. Happy webcomicking - don't be afraid to jump in, but be prepared to learn a lot very quickly. And if this advice doesn't work for you or adhere to how you did it, that's absolutely fine - webcomics are diverse by nature, and so are their creation processes. Feel out what works best for you, and good luck!

#phantomarine #webcomic #advice #just talking #writing

[runningfrom2am]

leveling the playing field VIII

summary: you didn't meet the requirements for the plinth prize, only to find out that you're not just missing out on that- you're missing out on the opportunity of a lifetime. your friend wants to help, because maybe you can help each other.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.2k

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows (we do, kind of). abuse, so read with caution!! also a little bit of swearing but that's neither here nor there

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a/n: omg so this is the final part of the first like, section of this story! i probably should have not called them parts bc idk what to do for the second like.. bit. season? maybe?) yeah sure, season two coming soon!! lol

thank you guys so much for being here and reading this and enjoying it as much as i have enjoyed writing it! it truly means so much to me :)

next part

You hear footsteps and turn around in the seat, hoping desperately that it's Coryo, and you are relieved to see that it finally is. He had been gone for close to an hour. You stand quickly, going to meet him halfway, what you had to tell him couldn't wait. "Coryo," You say quickly, before launching into the full story. "Lucy Gray came back, the others were chasing her and she hid in that vent and she's still in there, they're trying to figure out how to get in. She's stuck."

You follow him back to the desk, his eyes wide now too. "That's good... I think that's good." He's scanning the arena again, as if there's any inch of it he hasn't committed to memory, trying to see if there was any way Dr. Gaul's snakes could reach her in the vent you pointed to.

"No, no it's not good because I don't think there's another way out of that one except the way she came in." You dig into your bag as it hangs at his side, pulling out the notebook that you drew the map in. "Yeah, look- it's pinched off about thirty feet in." You point to the page, holding it out for him to see.

"She just has to wait them out." He insists, pushing your hand down. "Put that away- you shouldn't have that."

Why is he so calm about this? Lucy Gray was trapped, and this time there was nothing either of you could do to help her. "Yeah, but that's not going to work for much longer." You say, watching as the three make a plan to push her farther into the vent and try and get her out from the bottom.

Hurriedly, you close your notebook and put it away so you don't have to look away for long.

"Just a little longer, Lucy Gray..." Coryo mutters to himself and grips onto your hand at his side. At this, you reach across your body and rub his arm with your free hand. His whole future could collapse in a matter of moments if Lucy Gray doesn't survive. Yours could too. But as you watch Coral thrust her weapon up into the pipes that you know Lucy Gray is inside, you flinch, not knowing how much longer Lucy Gray can hold out.

You can't even process what is happening to Treech and the outcries of his mentor and people in the theatre, wondering what happened to him as he collapses with a bloody nose. You knew, so you avoided even looking in their direction as Lucy Gray tumbled from the now shredded vent, landing directly on top of Coral before making a run for it. You're sure Coriolanus isn't even breathing.

You aren't either when every one of the tributes freezing and the wind starts whipping Lucy Gray's hair around her face and her dress around her sides. Everyone watches as a large tank is lowered into the arena and dropped delicately on top of the pile of debris in the center.

"What is that?" You wonder out loud, and Coryo just shakes his head as you look up at him.

"C'mon Lucy Gray, get out of there..."

"Wouldn't it be funny if it was candy?" Lucky jokes and you stifle a laugh.

At this moment, the young girl from District Eight wanders out into the clearing, pale and skinny. "Is it over?" She asks no one in particular, making your smile fade.

"Wovey..." Reaper warns her from where he's kneeling next to the bodies he had covered with the flag.

"Can we go home now?" You clutch your hand back to your chest as she walks toward the tank- you don't know what was in the tank, but you know it wouldn't be good.

"Wovey." He warns again, more stern this time with a slight shake of his head.

The tank starts to splinter, cracking steadily along all sides until it bursts open. You gasp at the amount of snakes that come out. A wave of moving, rainbow destruction crashes over the floor and completely engulfs the little girl in a fraction of a second, as everyone else starts to run.

As Lucy Gray and Coral make a break for the walls, trying to get up to the stands, Reaper seems to just accept his fate. You feel... bad. He could have taken your offer made days before, he could be winning right now. At least he and Wovey didn't suffer.

As Lucy Gray pushes herself backward up the pile of rubble away from the fast moving snakes, Coral starts speaking to her. You can't hear what she's saying, but you can see she's crying- maybe pleading for Lucy Gray's help, maybe just saying her goodbyes to this world. It didn't matter, Lucy Gray was the last one alive as Coral's body got surrounded by the snakes.

Please work. Coriolanus begs the universe, hoping that the cloth he had used to wipe her tears and the one she used to wipe away the dirt from her skin before the interview, which he took from your bag and shoved into slots in the tank would be enough to save her.

"She won!" You grin, shaking Coryo's shoulder as he stands beside you, eyes still locked on Lucy Gray.

That's when she starts to sing, just as the snakes catch up to her. Why aren't they letting her out? It was over.

"Why aren't they getting her out?" You ask him, confused as everyone watches intensely, entranced by her voice.

"I'll be along, when I've finished my song..."

Coryo and you both turn, facing the audience now and all eyes immediately lock on Dr. Gaul. "Dr. Gaul, she won." He says, as if somehow she's missed it- surely she had. Surely she's not watching the same thing you are.

"When I've shut down the band, played out my hand..."

"It's over, let her out!" You shout, attempting to draw her attention.

"Paid all my debts..."

"Why aren't they attacking her?" You hear someone ask, noticing the snakes are almost entirely covering Lucy Gray's shirt now.

"Have no regrets, right here..."

"It must be the singing," Coryo replies, and you look up at him. You don't know that that's true, but you won't ask. "It's calming them."

"In the old therebefore..."

"She can't sing forever."

"Then let her out!" You yell, looking pleadingly up at Dr. Gaul in the stands. "Dr. Gaul!" You demand her attention now, stomping your foot down.

Your blood is boiling when she still won't look at you and the sound of Lucy Gray's voice fills the theatre. "Look at me!" You scream, and clearly, people are getting annoyed at you for interrupting Lucy Gray's song. "Look at me now or let her out!"

She does neither, not until Lucy Gray's song moves everyone else to match your cries for her to be released. Only then does Dr. Gaul look at the two of you, and you drop Coryo's hand.

The doctor sighs, leaning over to her assistant. "Get her out. Now." She says, and cheers erupt in the room previously filled with emotional tears.

"I did it." Coryo says, and you have to lean close to hear it over everyone's delight.

"You did it!" You laugh, throwing your arms over his shoulders. You scream in excitement as he hugs you back, lifting you up and spinning you around as people crowd the two of you. You don't think you've ever been happier.

As he lets you down gently, grabbing your cheeks and pressing a kiss to your forehead, you wonder if your parents are watching. You can't wait to get home, to see your family and let them sing your praises for Coriolanus's success in the games. Well, Lucy Gray's success that the two of you get to reap the rewards of.

Then, he's gone, leaving you to gather your things while he goes to see Tigris. You smile, sighing to yourself as you watch. It's likely your father has already sent the car to collect you, so you should probably get going. You're in dire need of a celebratory bath, anyway.

Last night, you had the best sleep you had gotten in weeks. A full eight hours- a privilege you didn't know you missed so bad. Even when you had to get up for school around six, you felt so well rested you knew you could take on the world.

That was until you walked downstairs for breakfast. "Good morning." You grin, skipping down the last couple of steps only to be met with your father hanging up the phone, storming over to you, and shoving you back onto the staircase.

"Sit down. Listen to me." He spits as you groan, holding your head from where it hit the railing and adjusting yourself so you are sitting properly on the stairs.

"Ow... What did I do?"

"You know what you did, Y/N." He hisses, pacing in front of you. "Un-fucking-believable! They went out on a limb for you, and this is how you repay them? Do you even realize what you have done? To me? To this family?"

The poison.

"Dad, I didn't do anything! I had no say in it! Coryo gave her the compact empty- it wasn't our business what she did with it!" You argue, standing up only to earn yourself a slap across the face.

"You were to give her nothing. You knew that." You hold your cheek while he lectures you, and you just nod.

"Yes, sir." You sniff, rubbing your jaw to soothe the sting of your already burning skin. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize to me- you will apologize to Dean Highbottom first thing this morning and hope he's smart enough to forgive you. Now, go."

You pull your bag back over your shoulder, avoiding eye contact with your little brother and your mother sat at the table as you walked out the door. It looks like you're walking today.

You make it to your first class, obviously not feeling too excited about the concept of speaking with the Dean. Coryo walks in just a few moments after you, stealing the seat at your side. You can't even look at him.

"Good morning." He whispers, pulling his textbook out of his bag. He's in good spirits it seems, but you know that won't last long. "You left in a hurry after the games yesterday, I was hoping we would celebrate together."

When you don't respond, he furrows his brow. Were you mad at him? Had he done something? "Wow, you're a ray of sunshine this morning, aren't you?" He asks, disguising his hurt as a joke. His intention was to come back to you after speaking with Tigris, he wanted to see if you would like to go for a walk or something and discuss everything. He didn't really have a plan, but he didn't want you to leave his side, not yet. The games had ended all too quickly, and you had yet to even discuss what had happened with the kiss you shared. He couldn't let you slip back into a routine of only seeing each other in class and during breaks, he couldn't bear the mere idea of it.

You slam your pen down on the desk, turning to look at him now. "We are in such deep, deep shit, Coriolanus." You hiss, taking notice of everyone looking at you so you quiet down.

"Your... your cheek." He just mutters, leaning in to look closely at the other side of your face and the maroon bruise that now adorned it. Even under your makeup he could see it. "What happened?" He reaches out to gently brush his hand over your jaw and you flinch away quickly.

You sigh, looking around quickly before leaning in closer to whisper to him. "They know, about the poison. We're done for, enjoy your final moments of freedom." You move away quickly as your professor starts speaking and the world begins to crash down around your best friend.

He sits back, face pale as his stomach turns. How could they know? They must have found the compact on Lucy Gray- it must not have been empty. Or was it the cloths in the tank? Those would be easier to find, probably, but how could they be traced back to you?

"We need to borrow Miss Y/L/N and Mister Snow, please." A peacekeeper says as he knocks on the open door frame, eyes quickly finding the two of you.

"It was nice knowing you." You sigh, quickly gathering your things and making your way down to the door.

He follows quickly behind, and for once, your classmates are silent.

A group of three peacekeepers lead you down a quiet hallway of the school, and stop at an open door gesturing for the two of you to enter.

"Ladies first," Coriolanus says softly, stepping aside for you to enter.

"Oh, so now I'm a lady." You scoff quietly, walking into the large open room, the high biology room, with nothing but a table in the center. The table is adorned only with the compact he had given to Lucy Gray, and two handkerchiefs. One of his, and one of yours. How did they get that?

"Kids." Dean Highbottom greets the two of you as the door slams shut behind you.

You open your mouth to speak, taking a breath and he stops you before you get the chance. "I don't know how many times I have to tell you this, Y/N, but I don't want to hear it."

"No, I think you do." You protest, "Because my-"

"Your father?" He cuts you off. "What about him? Because I just got off the phone with him this morning, and judging by the state of your face, I would argue that I am in agreement with him."

You swallow, fighting the urge to look down and avoid his gaze. If you had any chance of walking out of here without being in too much trouble, you had to prove that you were not afraid.

"Don't you think that she's been punished enough?" Coryo argues, looking between the two of you.

"Coriolanus." He ignores his plea, tapping the table next to the compact. "How many times did I see your mother pull this from her handbag to check her face? Your pretty, vapid mother, who'd somehow convinced himself that your father would give her freedom and love. Out of the frying pan and into the fire, as they say."

"She wasn't." Coryo protests, referring to the Dean's insinuations about his mother. You look at him, but he won't meet your gaze.

"Only her youth excused her, and, really, she seemed fated to be a child forever. Just like the opposite of your girl, here." He gestures to you. "Eighteen going on thirty-five, and a hard thirty-five, at that. Your songbird, too."

"She gave you the compact?" Coriolanus asks, the sadness of betrayal evident on his features at the idea of Lucy Gray handing it over.

"Oh, don't blame her. The peacekeepers had to wrestle her to get the thing. Naturally, we do a thorough search of the victors when they leave the arena." Dean Highbottom explains, tilting his head as he looks between the two of you. "So smart of her, to poison the water Dill drank and dust it over Treech the way she did. If I didn't know better, I would have thought I was watching you, Miss Y/L/N."

You take a sharp breath, making an effort to straighten your posture.

"She claimed that the poison was her idea, that the compact was nothing but a token." He adds.

"It was." You state, though he is likely speaking to Coriolanus.

"Oh, I'm glad to see you got your story straight." Highbottom nods at you, voice dripping in sarcasm. "But I don't believe you. Even if I did, what am I to make of these?" He taps next to the handkerchiefs now next to it. "One of the lab assistants found these in the snake tank last night. Everyone was baffled at first, checking to see if it was one of their own that they had dropped. Until we noticed the initials. Not yours. Your father's. So delicately stitched into the corner..."

You look at Coryo, who is fighting to keep a straight face through his urge to vomit. "Why haven't you made this public?" He asks.

"I know why." You say, crossing your arms and looking the Dean up and down, who just rolls his eyes.

"I was tempted," He ignores you. "Believe me, I was. But the academy, when expelling students, has a tradition of offering them a lifeline. As an alternative to public disgrace, Coriolanus, you may join the peacekeepers by the end of the day."

Coryo's heart drops, as does yours. "The other one, it's hers." He points suddenly to the other cloth, next to his father's. Your jaw drops. How dare he throw you under the bus like that?

"I was getting to that." The Dean sighs as you shoot glares into the side of Coriolanus's head.

"I didn't do that! He took my bag, he took it and put it in the tank- I didn't know anything!" You argue, and he once again raises a hand at you to shut you up.

"Coriolanus, you better hurry. The office closes in twenty minutes, if you run you can make it in time." Highbottom says to your classmate, who just nods and turns for the door. "Oh, and what's that?" He asks, looking up at the skylight. "It's the sound of Snow, falling."

Coriolanus glares at him, pacing quickly out of the door and slamming it behind himself.

You're in shock still over why he would do that to you, but you don't have the time to process it before the Dean is scolding you. "Now, what will happen to you, huh?" He asks, raising an eyebrow and crossing his arms. "Be honest, did you know?"

"No, sir." You reply, giving a firm shake of your head.

"That's a shame. He really threw you under, huh?" He laughs, mocking you. "After what I saw the other day, I was expecting he would defend you tooth and nail... but no. I mean, he is a Snow, after all."

You don't say a word, just glaring at the man in front of you and waiting for him to tell you your fate.

"Anyway, if it was up to me, you would already be undergoing the necessary procedures to become an Avox. Oh, how I would love to see you without a tongue." He muses, sighing in disappointment. "But I know your father would be embarrassed so I think it best to leave your punishment in his hands, would you agree? Outside, of course, your expulsion."

"You can't expel me!" You shout, fists clenched around the sleeves of your coat.

"Enough of your tantrums, Y/N. You're too old for this. But, alas, you're right. I'm obligated to extend you the olive branch too." He concedes. "You are allowed to graduate under the condition that you work in service for the next ten years. Although keep in mind, your father won't like that."

"Fuck your olive branch! How dare you threaten me like this! I did nothing wrong, we won!" You fire off, practically twitching with anger at this point. "If you won't go public with it, I will! I've got nothing to lose now, the whole country will know what you and my dad are doing! What you're selling! I'll tell everyone! You'll be executed for treason!" You didn't even notice when you started grabbing anything you could reach and launching it in his direction until the peacekeepers were grabbing the back of your arms and dragging you away kicking and screaming. "You'll hang for this!"

You hardly make it to the door before you feel a stab in your neck, and the world fades to black around you.

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#tbosas #tbosas x reader #tbosas fic #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #thg #thg series #thg fanfiction #hunger games #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x you #coryo snow

[pink-amethyst-tarot]

Looking for a sign?

a pick-a-card reading

Take a deep breath and let your intuition guide you. In the end, only you know what is truly best for you.

P I L E 1 P I L E 2 P I L E 3

pile 1

"You are a badass being, full of life, love & possibilities. Through this deck, may you find a path to your best self." Modern Witch Tarot Deck, Lisa Sterle

Page of Swords, Queen of Pentacles, Eight of Pentacles, Ten of Cups, The Emperor, Seven of Swords

It seems you are looking for the joy in life and you have been working really hard to find it. The thing is, you might be looking in the wrong places. You're looking right when you should be looking left. You aren't seeing your potential and how powerful, beautiful and magnificent you are. The things that you are trying to manifest want to come to you but you first have to look within.

Card from the Angel Answers Oracle Deck: Don't Stop!

I am reading this as your angels telling you that you are doing so well, even if things are uncomfortable right now. You have made amazing progress, and you should acknowledge that. If you look back on who you used to be and where you used to be, you will notice that you have made some amazing strides forward. Don't give up on you. There is a reality that you want to live in and it's calling for you, but it can get to you if you don't meet it in the middle.

I hope you enjoyed this reading, if you would like to get a more person look into your situation, see this post.

pile 2

Six of Swords, Three of Swords, Five of Wands, Death, The World, Ace of Swords

Change is inevitable. There is a change that you have been resistant to because you don't want to be uncomfortable. You're so used to one side of the river, you're afraid to even think about going to the other side. This thing you are avoiding, it's not what you think it is. Change, good or bad, can be uncomfortable. It's still going to happen, though. You will not be able to please everyone but you will be happier, in the end. It's not your problem if there are people that don't understand what you're doing or what you want. They are either along for the ride or they can stay home. You know what the right choice is.

Card from the Angel Answers Oracle Deck: YES

There's your answer. The answer is yes. I'm hearing Say Yes by Floetry; all you gotta do is say yes, don't deny what you feel. Once again you know what you need to do, what you want to do. You just wanted someone else to say it so I'm saying it. Don't think of all the reasons why you think it's a flute. Your angels/guides/the universe doesn't do flukes. If it's for you, it will find you. The answer is yes. Yes.

I hope you enjoyed this reading, if you would like to get a more person look into your situation, see this post.

Pile 3

Queen of Wands, Ace of Wands, The Devil, Temperance, King of Wands, Justice

First thing I heard was, "leave him alone." Now, this is a general reading so apply the pronouns and genders this will apply to. You are doing something that you know is wrong but it feels damn good. It makes you feel powerful. You're aware that something is off. Maybe a power imbalance. If you don't cut this out now, it will bite you in the ass very quickly and painfully. It's time for you to take control of the narrative again and do right by yourself.

Card from the Angel Answers Oracle Deck: NOT THE RIGHT TIME and NO!

This has HEEEEELL NO energy to be quite frank. Whatever you are doing or planning to do, just don't. Just avoid the mess and drama while/if you can.

I hope you enjoyed this reading, if you would like to get a more person look into your situation, see this post

LEGAL DISCLAIMER: FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY. These readings are not a substitute or replacement for any professional help or services. My readings are not a substitute for any form of professional legal, medical/psychiatric, relationship, religious/spiritual or financial/ business advice nor consultations. You should always see a professional legal/trained adviser for help in any matter. I am not responsible for any decisions/ actions you take.

#pink amethyst #pink amethyst tarot #tarot community #tarotblr #tarot reading #collective message #collective reading #tarot #free tarot #free tarot reading #222 #777 #227 #333 #143 #pick a card reading #pick a card #pick a pile #pick a picture #pick an image #pac tarot #pac reading #pap tarot #pap reading

[aloesarchives]

Birthday Special(JJK Oneshot)

TW/Warnings: Domesticity, AFAB/Female Reader, Family life, Slight self-coded Fem!Reader

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x Fem!Reader

Pronouns: She/Her, Mom/Mama (Though no physical description, reader had some self-coded elements)

Word count: 1.5k words

Decided to write something because today is my birthday(May 3rd)! And I'm officially 21! Thank you all for you love and support for the past 7 months of me writing for JJK! Also, this is the Valentine's day I referred to.

“Papa, you’re thinking too hard about this. You know Mama doesn’t ask for much.”

“Yeah, Dad. It shouldn’t be hard to get mom a present. Remember that full-size green tea hand and body lotion you got her? She was way too happy about it and was on the verge of crying happy tears.”

Toji sighs as his kids are behind him trying to ease his stress. Once again, like Valentine’s day, he was struggling to get a present for you. But this time, the stakes are higher because today is your birthday. Not some holiday Toji remembers because it’s one of the many times of the year capitalism does a complete take over for the sake of consumerism, which he can never avoid every time he goes out.

Though his kids have a point, he always wanted to do or get something for you. While you do the occasional mall shopping, it wasn’t often. Maybe once a month if lucky. This always posses a problem for the three because you were the best gifter in the family. Knowing what to give to anyone but only hinting at minute items. Thus having to think outside of the box or really watch your eyes latch onto anything longer than seven seconds. 

Megumi and Tsumiki don’t blame Toji for struggling since your demands weren’t demands but rather promises. You have been nothing but good to Toji for almost two decades. Something Toji knows many people take something like that for granted. Unfortunately, becomes terrifying to know how easily many fall under a dark spell. And Toji fears himself on certain days for not giving what you deserved.

“I know, Megumi. But your mother deserves nice things for herself. She still wears the necklace I gave her when you two were young. That’s almost ten years. Now, you both do some scooping while watching the time. We have to get the cake at 3:45pm.”

The siblings looked at each other before shaking their heads in helping their father’s hunt for a perfect present. They looked around the vast sea of stores to give themselves for any ideas. They were overthinking this whole process because every idea was shot down at the reality that you did have everything you ever wanted.

You have everything you ever wanted is what you always said to them.

Perhaps there’s something else they can give you that reminds of that. The lightbulb above Tsumiki’s head went off as she asked Toji the jewelry store he got the necklace from. He becomes curious as she scans the windows for something until stopping and pointing. Toji and Megumi look over to a display of multiple charm bracelets. 

“If Mama has the necklace with us in it, why can’t she get a matching bracelet to go along with it? She doesn’t have one that does.”

Now, Toji and Megumi were seeing Tsumiki’s vision.

“Good eye, kiddo. Shame on me for not thinking about that sooner.”

Toji lets Tsumiki handle the bracelet creation, occasionally having him and Megumi to be on the same page. Once finalized, Toji goes to fish his wallet for his card to give to Tsumiki to pay. After printing the receipt, the lady gives the card back but it ends up dropping onto the marble counter. Megumi cringes at the metallic clanging it made so he grabs it for Tsumiki to give back to his dad. Everyone in the store glances over at them as Toji puts the card away. Megumi raises a brow at his father because Toji had a smirk plastered on his lips.

“Why are you smirking?”

Toji pockets his hands as he looks at him.

“Don’t worry about it, Megs. Just know there aren't a lot of people with metal credit cards. Anyway, we gotta get movin’ because we need to pick up your Mama’s birthday cake and food for dinner.”

Tsumiki joins them as they head off to finish birthday shopping. Once getting home, they set up everything for you to come home to. By the time you come home, they’re done. Making your presence known, you relax into your humble abode. You walked yourself into the kitchen to see what your family has set up for you.

“Happy Birthday, Mom!”

You're greeted by a hug from each of your kids. Chuckling at the surprise they always seem to do when the day is about you. You hold them close and kiss their foreheads as their hugs re-energize you. Once parting, they made way for their father as your husband stands over you. Holding that dumb grin that you fell in love with over these years.

“Happy Birthday, Doll~.”

Giving a forehead kiss of his own, he holds you ever so softly but with the affectionate firmness. You giggled at how Toji is when it comes to physical touch. He can’t seem to get enough of it. Before eating dinner, you wanted to blow out the candles so they could eat the cake afterwards. The kids say their part and end with “We love you, Mom. Always.” Toji cracks a joke that always makes Megumi roll his eyes before getting into his own sentimental speech.

“Thank you for spending almost 20 years of your life with me. Happy Birthday, (Y/N).”

Ugh, and that softness he had at the end. Made you want to kiss him with all the love and warmth. You thought it’s time to eat dinner when Toji pulls out a small pink bag and places it in front of you. Surprised, you looked around at your family.

“What’s this, guys?”

“It’s for you, Mama. From us.”

Though curious, you smiled as you looked into the bag and pulled out a small box. Upon opening it, you couldn’t stop the smile that took over. There, in the box, was a silver charm snake chain bracelet with a small (F/C) gem at the center of a beautiful silver heart charm. But that’s not make you smile. It came from when your eyes landed on the other three charms attached to the bracelet. Two of those were dangling charms, one of an elegant flower and the other of a small silver puppy. The other charm was a clip-on with the colors of dark blue and black. You recognized them to represent the three that ultimately fulfilled the word “family” for you. 

The flower is Tsumiki as it was her favorite color, the puppy was obviously Megumi, and the last one is Toji for sure. Your smile began to painfully pull at your lips because you realized Toji’s charm closely resembles his wedding ring. Clasping the bracelet on your wrist, you admired how it looked on you.

“It was the kids’ idea to do this. I just paid for it, Hon.”

You knew Toji’s lying but didn't have it in you to call him out. This gift was just too perfect. You go over to give your motherly affection to thank Megumi and Tsumiki, your two children that gave meaning to your motherhood. Once having enough, you go over to Toji. The man you undoubtedly cherish and completely devote yourself to, your husband and your other half. You hug Toji lovingly, taking in his warmth and presence. Nothing in this world brings you comfort and ease than the man you choose to love never made you regret giving your heart and soul to.

Toji just chuckles with his signature grin, returning the hug with the same amount of affection. Yet your children can see the adoration and tenderness in his eyes, knowing full well he never looked at anyone that way because you’re the only one to bring it out of him. Looking up at your Toji, your gaze softens but your smile still holds its homeyness. He stares down at you before he leans in for a kiss you gladly accept. Even Megumi smiles with his sister while watching their parents express their love for one another, seeing them pull away from the kiss.

“They’re truly your kids since they always knew how to give me gifts. It goes with my necklace now. Thank you for this.” Saying as you smile up at him.

“Ah~, they knew because they have  good eyes. Just like their mama. Happy Birthday, (Y/N). Thank you for your love…and thank you for being you.”

The absolute tender affirmation was unlike any other. Though your birthday was a reminder of how many years you’ve been on here, it also serves as a reminder of your milestones over the years. Looking at your life, you got the best out of it. A family of your own and the love from someone who’s been with you through it all. As you tell Megumi and Tsumiki to go ahead and eat, you lock eyes with Toji. Both filled with a love no one can feel except the two of you. Toji hugs you close from behind as you interlace your hands into his, feeling your bracelet pressed up against him. Gazing upon Megumi and Tsumiki, both of your creations born out of each other’s unmatched love for one another.

This will be added into one of your many best birthdays you had.

Tags w/ links:

@luqueam @ploylulla @tqd4455 @wolywolymoley @captainbabybear @ravenswife

Tags w/o links:

@szillx @SleppyAnn @g0th1xac1d @kneelarhmstrung

Taglist form Here!

#x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #fem reader #megumi fushiguro #dad!toji #fushiguro tsumiki #toji x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #mama!reader #x reader fluff #jjk fluff #x fem!reader #x female reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #reader insert #toji fushiguro x female reader #birthday special #wife!reader #x wife reader #jjk toji #jjk megumi #aloesarchives

[hallietblr]

same time, next week? | c.fisher x reader

a/n: inspired by the tiktok trend! might MIGHT turn this into a mini trilogy but not too sure yet so let me know what you think!

warnings: fluffy but kinda sad:(

—

summer was quickly coming to an end, saying goodbye to a few of our new friends we made this summer as they return back to their home. cousins was always a place associated with fun and the carefree life. from waking up at dawn to catch the sunrise, being at the beach all day, family barbecues, parties every night, and to do it all with my best friends.

my mother, elisa, used to come to cousins every summer with her family and she immediately became friends with the girl next door, susannah, and her best friend, laurel. the three of them would always spend every moment of the three summer months together in cousins before leaving back to their normal lives.

cousins was almost like an alternate reality, where everyone is happy. where summer love is born and new friendships are made.

once my mom inherited her parents’ summer home, we started coming to cousins every june until the end of august. just like how she used to do it when she was younger, it was to continue the family tradition and i hope i can show my children too.

luckily, susannah had also inherited her family’s summer home and was still in very close contact with her two best friends.

i basically grew up with conrad and his younger brother, jeremiah. conrad and i were born in the same year, only a month apart. we were destined to be best friends since we were in diapers.

i’m also very close to laurel’s kids, steven and belly. moreso with belly than i am with steven since her and i are the only girls out of the five of us. she was a few years younger than me and honestly, she’s like the little sister i never had.

currently, i was lounging on the beach chairs by the poolside of the fisher’s home. conrad had his head on my lap, quietly napping and enjoying the summer warmth. i had one hand playing with his golden hair while the other flipping the pages of my book.

jeremiah, steven, and belly were all playing in the pool, the occasion yelling and screaming coming from them. they all had smiles painted upon their faces,

“y/n! get in!” jeremiah yells at me, splashing water in my direction. i use my book to cover conrad’s face in hopes that he won’t wake up,

“maybe later!” i say back to him, “i can’t really get up right now anyways.”

steven shrugs, “just push him off.”

belly gasps and hits her brother, “that’s so mean! but seriously, y/n, i’m leaving the day after tomorrow and you leave on tuesday next week.”

“i know” i sigh, part of me knows that there’s a chance i won’t be back in cousins with my favourite people for a long time. with college coming up and moving across the country to go to stanford, i knew that i couldn’t visit them as often after this.

nobody except for my mother knew, and i made her swear to not tell a soul that i had accepted my offer to stanford. especially the fact that i won’t see them all for possibly years.

“kids!” laurel calls out from the window, “dinners ready!”

the three from the pool scream as they all shove each other, trying to get out of the pool quickly. i gently shake my best friend awake, “connie, dinner”

his eyes flutter open, he rubs the sleep away, “okay.”

he offers me his hand when i stand up, which i gladly take. i feel butterflies in my stomach from the physical touch from him.

conrad has a soft hand on the small of my back as he guides me into the familiar home. we all sit around the large dinner table, all passing the delicious looking food around. i have conrad on my right and jeremiah on my left.

“y/n,” my mom says, i look up to match her gaze. the second i do, i see what she’s silently hinting at.

tell them.

i shake my head, swallowing the spoonful of mashed potato in my mouth, “no, mom”

jeremiah lifts an eyebrow at me, “she didn’t even say anything”

steven nods in agreement, his mouth full of food. laurel and susannah both look at my mother, trying to read her face,

“come on, honey.” she pleads, “you owe it to them”

this caught everyone’s attention, all eyes on me.

“what’s going on?” belly asks, placing her fork down, “mom?”

laurel shrugs, “i’m not too sure, bels”

i sigh, putting my hands onto my napkin covered lap. i didn’t want to tell them, but i also knew that i should,

“i’m going to stanford.” i tell them, after moments of confusion and silence.

susannah jumps up from her seat and runs over to my chair to squeeze me, “oh my goodness, y/n! that’s incredible news! congratulations, sweet girl!”

laurel was right behind her, “awh, my second baby! i knew you could do it.”

“wait, so why were you so hesitant on telling us?” jeremiah says as he hugs me, “this is good news!”

i frown slightly, “it’s easier for me to stay there for all four years, rather than flying back and forth for the summer…”

it took them a moment to digest what i said before steven pushes his chair back from the table,

“no, you aren’t saying…” he pauses, “you’re not coming back next summer? or the summers after that?!” steven exclaims, “what about christmas?!”

i shake my head, “flights are too expensive, i can’t”

i look over to conrad, who’s eyes haven’t left me since i broke the news. his expression was unreadable.

belly had a tear running down her cheek, “so, tomorrow is goodbye then?” she whispers, “we won’t be able to see each other until you’re done…”

“yeah, tomorrow is goodbye” i slowly nod, “my mom is planning on coming to visit so maybe you guys can too?”

jeremiah grins, “of course we will! i cant stay away from n/n for that long, i can barely handle a school year without seeing you!” he laughs, even though there’s evident sadness in his words.

“i’ll be sure to bring connie and jere to visit, honey” susannah promises me, “congratulations again”

i smile at her before everyone resumes to eating their food and making small conversation. i look back at conrad who’s playing with the food on his plate, i grab his hand under the table and squeeze it.

he looks at me and i ask, “beach after?”

dinner wrapped up quickly, steven and jeremiah getting ready for one last party of the summer — conrad and i agreed to go a bit after them.

conrad has his hand wraps around mine as we walk down towards the water, our arms are swinging while he laughs at some joke i made. we sit on the sand and watch the sun slowly lower into the horizon. we don’t say much but it’s never needed when it’s us two. we enjoy the comfortable silence and each other’s company.

i rest my head on his hoodie covered shoulder, him resting his head on mine soon after. he kisses my hair softly, “so stanford?”

i sigh, “yeah, stanford”

i can feel him smile, “congrats pretty girl”

my cheeks blush at the nickname, but i say nothing. all i want is to stay here with him on this beach we grew up on, forever.

“i always love the sunsets here,” i say, finally breaking the silence, “i swear they’re so much better here than they are in maine.”

he laughs, “i think i like them better here, because then at least i can watch them with you. back in boston, all the sunsets remind me of you.”

“you’re so cheesy” i giggle, gently shoving him with my shoulder.

he rests his cheek on his crossed over arms that are on his bent knees. he looks at me with sadness in his eyes, “same time, next week?”

i feel my eyes starting to water from his question, fully knowing that we don’t know the next time we’ll be able to do this, “im not here next week” i whisper out, tears crawling down my cheeks.

conrad has never been much of a crier, i think i’ve only seen him cry three times in my life. but right now will add to that count as a few tears fall from his eyes,

“im going to miss you so much, pretty” he tells me with his lips quivering, i reach over to wipe the tears off his face with the sleeve on my sweater.

“we can call anytime, okay?” i reply, giving a sad smile, “we always text each other too, but whenever i want to hear your voice, i’m going to call you.”

he chuckles, “so i guess i’ll be calling you 24/7”

i move closer to him and he wraps his arms around me into a tight hug.

“i’m not sure what summers are going to be like without you, y/n.”

“i don’t even want to think about it”

as the sun disappears beyond the horizon, we slowly get up to head back to our rooms to get ready for this party. my phone was blown up with snaps and text messages from jeremiah and steven, begging us to come and join them. one last summer party with them, one last chance to watch steven get black out drunk, one last opportunity to say goodbye to my summer friends, and only a few more sunsets to watch with conrad.

#conrad fisher fanfic #conrad fisher fanfiction #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher x y/n #conrad fisher x you #conrad fisher fluff #conrad fisher angst #tsitp fanfiction #tsitp x reader #tsitp x you #tsitp imagine #jeremiah x reader #jeremiah fisher fanfic #jeremiah fisher imagine #conrad fanfic

[discordantwritings]

Captain’s Orders (Buggy x Reader)

Warnings: NSFW 18+ MDNI, gn afab! Reader, angst, Buggy is bad at feelings, canon typical violence, oral, PiV sex, creampie

WC: 8.4k

Summary: Getting a job as the chronicler of the Buggy pirates was the best, then worst, then best thing that ever happened to you.

Notes: The second I realized I hadn’t done a solo buggy fic I wrote this I’m so sorry buggy

No one tells you how hard it is to keep a job on a pirate ship. Unless you manage to land with a big name captain the chances your job sinks to the bottom of the sea is pretty high. Which is what happened to your last three jobs- you were so tired of ending up on a dingy paddling away from a lost battle that you had no say in. You were a chronicler after all- not exactly a fighting pirate.

Despite being a non-essential crew member a chronicler was a sought after person. Every pirate thinks they are going to be the one to find the One Piece so, naturally, every pirate needs to have someone to log their journey to becoming king of the pirates. It was a little tiring, hearing the same story over and over again, writing the same few chapters only to end up waterlogged and searching for a new ship at the end.

But you needed to eat and you could only afford to live at this tavern for so long. You’d posted your services on the local board, listing your name and where you were staying in hopes of drawing in a pirate captain. One that hopefully won’t be going under in less than a month. And if you were really lucky- one that wasn’t so painfully textbook.

Really you should have known the gods were going to get you for wishing that.

When the clowns first walk into the tavern you wonder if you missed some signage that a carnival was coming into town. But when a distinctly dressed blue haired pirate captain walks in behind them- you put it all together. The Buggy Pirates were docked here. Their chronicler probably had their hands full but at least it wasn’t the same boring-

You notice when the barkeep points Buggy the Clown in your direction. The two of you make eye contact across the room and you quickly run through your memory to try and figure out what you could have possibly done to be hunted down by a big name pirate. As his heavy boots thud against the wooden floors you can’t think of a single time you’ve even brushed shoulders with any clowns let alone pirate ones. As Buggy looms over your table you frantically try and think of a way out of whatever sorry situation you’ve accidentally gotten yourself into only for that hurried train of thought to be abruptly derailed.

“You the chronicler who has that ad posted?”

It takes you probably too long to respond with a squeaky- “Yes?”

“Great!” The clown takes the chair next to you and sits down, quickly putting his feet up on the table. “Do you have examples of a resume or whatever?”

“You don’t already have a chronicler?” The question is out of your mouth before you can stop it and you bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from saying more stupid things.

“Nope.” He shrugs and you see the rest of his crew settle in around the tavern.

“Oh. Well-“ You reach off to your side and take out a leather bound journal that has some of your work plastered in it. “Here’s some snippets.”

As you hand it over to Buggy you feel as his sea green eyes rake over you for a few moments before he finally takes the book. He flips to the first page, looks at it for maybe all of two seconds before snapping it shut. “How would you write about me?”

Then why did he even- “Well I think- see people sometimes assume a chronicler only writes down the basic facts are events but I think a real chronicler tells a story that the average person didn’t get to see or hear about. For example a lot of people heard about the Straw Hats taking you out at Orange Town-“

He sits up a bit, gaze hardening but you quickly continue. “But- I think there’s a different story there! They fought the fishmen so soon after your encounter with them and it’s no secret that the Arlong Crew was pushing their luck in the East Blue. So the story there should really be about how you used your genius to let the Straw Hats go and sent the Arlong Crew after them- letting your opponents fight it out and weaken each other.”

There’s a long pause where you feel the clown practically searing holes into your skin with his gaze until he finally breaks into a smile that rivals the one painted on his face. “That’s exactly it! You get it! People just need to hear the right side of the story! Start writing that down. That'll be your first entry as our chronicler.”

That is probably the most presumptuous way you’ve ever been offered a job but you certainly were not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. “Great!”

It’s only after Buggy then orders a round of drinks in celebration and the cheering begins that you realize something.

“I don’t have to wear a clown costume do I?”

You didn’t have to wear a clown costume but already in the few weeks you’ve been a member of the Buggy Pirates your wardrobe had gotten more colorful. A sequin scarf here- a bright blue shirt there- these things just landed in your bunk and it did help you fit in. You minded it less than you thought you would, being in a crew that actually put thought into how they looked was a pleasant change.

You tied a striped sash around your waist over your pants as you prepared to have your nightly debriefing with your new captain. During the day you flitted about the ship, taking notes on everything that happens. Every night though Buggy always wanted a check in. From letting him know what happened while he was doing other duties, to telling you some previous journeys that he and his crew had been, to embellishing the stories of the day.

It was nice having a captain who actually cared about what you were writing. Most had just left you to your own devices and didn’t much care for your craft beyond the fact it made them look good. But Buggy actually wants to listen to your words and he provides some actual good feedback (admittedly in a sea of crazy unbelievable ideas, but the point still stands).

Journals and pens tucked under your arms you navigate to the captain’s quarters, finally feeling comfortable navigating the large ship after walking this route twice a day. It’s not that long before you’re knocking on the large door and hear Buggy’s voice, muffled through the wood.

“C’mon in.”

You push through the door and see Buggy behind his desk, face laying sideways on a pile of paper. You take a seat across from him.

“You alright?” You ask, eyebrow raised.

“Being a captain is not all fun and games my dearest chronicler.” He pushes back on the desk, flopping back in his large seat and swinging his feet up on the desk, knocking over the papers in the process. “Responsibility is a heavy burden to bear.”

You look over the mounds of untouched paper work that have been sitting there since you first arrived. “Seems like it.”

“But now you are here to save me. Tell me my story weaver- what is the tale of the day.” When he looks at you you know you have his undivided attention. There was something so fulfilling about capturing his attention, something you’ve learned is so finicky and flighty. But for you? He’s never been distracted.

“Well, it’s been a pretty standard day.” You go into every detail that matters- what acts were practiced, who's flirting with who, what crew member Richie managed to bite a finger off of- that kind of stuff.

“You know- we should have a whole section where we track body parts Richie has eaten and see how many full people can be put together with the parts.” Buggy adds as you finish up your recap and you huff a laugh as you write that down.

“I think we’ll have a lot of spare fingers.” You point out.

“Good point. Full bodies and hands.” Slightly more sensible… kind of.

“Got it. I’ll start logging and asking around for people who have lost limbs to Richie.” You make the note and you see out of the edges of your vision as Buggy’s legs come off the desk and he leans over, getting a bit closer to you.

“Y’know I’ve told you many stories already- what about you?” His head settles in his hands, perched up by his elbows.

“What do you mean what about me?” You tilt your head, genuinely confused.

“Your stories! You said you were the chronicler for a few ships before mine, you must have had some adventures out on the great wide East Blue.”

“Ah, well… no.” You admit a bit awkwardly.

“No?” Buggy raises his eyebrows, clearly looking for more.

“I was just a chronicler. I didn't really do anything on the previous ships I worked on. Hell, you’re the first captain who actually wants to hear about what I’m writing. For everyone else it was just an ego trip to have someone writing for them…” Your pen slips into your journal as a placeholder as you close it and pull it close to your lap.

“That’s…” Buggy frowns. “What losers! Most pirates won’t know talent if it slaps them in the face.”

You try to bite back your smile but it’s pretty ineffective. “You’re very kind captain.”

“You’re going to have to learn to take some compliments because with my crew? We are going all the way to the top and your stories of our journeys are going to be known across all four seas!” As he talked he stood up, wildly gesturing as he talked about his grand plan.

When other captains of yours had talked about getting the One Piece it had always annoyed you for some reason. The hunt for fame and money was… well it was cliche. But there was something about the earnestness that Buggy talked with- the grand scale he always thought on that made you believe it.

“Well, I guess I will have to work on that.” You say as you look up at him.

“Yes. Captain’s orders.” He hops up to sit on his desk just adjacent to you. His right foot lightly knocks against the side of your left calf.

“Then I’ll have to do it.” You smile wide, his energy was infectious.

“But seriously, not a single story? There has to be one fun thing you can tell me.”

“I guess… there was this one time-“

You break into a small, stupid story but Buggy hangs on your every word. The second you’re done he shares a similar experience and you go back and forth like this for hours, journal where you were supposed to write these things down long forgotten. Somewhere along the way you both ended up sitting on the floor, leaned up against the desk and legs side by side as you both gesture wildly through your stories. You don’t know how long this goes on, but when you feel yourself fighting to open your eyes after you blink you think it might be way late.

“I should get to bed.” You nudge Buggy’s shoulder with your own, working up the strength to stand up.

“Oh yeah it’s like-“ His hand detaches and he grabs something off his desk before bringing it down to his face. “Oh shit- 3 already?”

“Wow-“ You look at the clock he grabbed and sure enough, 3:21 am. “Yeah I really need to get to bed. You too, captain.”

You get up with a grunt of effort and once you’re standing you turn around and offer up your hand to help Buggy up. There’s an awkward pause as he looks up at you and he must be just as tired as you are with how long it takes for him to clasp his hand in yours and pull himself up.

“See you tomorrow night captain.” You squeeze his hand before letting go and walking out the door.

You’re not sure why you feel a low buzz in your body, nerves up from some unknown source. It’s not a gnawing anxiety… something else you can’t place. No matter what the second your head hits the pillow you’re out like a light, body getting ready for another long day.

The Buggy Clowns were weirdly affectionate. Not all of them, mind you, you don’t think you’ll ever get Cabaji to even smile at you, but the camaraderie they have is intimate. Most of the time not in a sexual way (though you’d be remiss to ignore the raunchier performers in the circus), but in friendliness and touchiness. Never before have you been on such an affectionate crew.

Every time you put more than 10 seconds into your appearance you got hoots and hollers from most of the crew members. When you grab lunch in the mess people fight over who gets to sit with you and be documented. Even Richie has a soft side- you’ve managed to pet him without adding a body part to the now running list.

It’s been a few months now and they still fight over you at meals- a quirk you would have thought would die out long ago. Everyone is eager to tell you about their day and try and loop you into spending the rest of the day with them. Today the tightrope walkers win out- or at least they think so. Secretly you’ve made a schedule for when you follow each group and no one has caught onto your pattern yet. But it makes it easy for you and makes it so no one is favored.

But when they cheer and lean into you, arms wrapped around your shoulders you still feel like shrinking away in embarrassment. It’s not bad- you can’t deny the little ego boost it gives you- but there’s something that always makes your face burn. But all that is nothing compared to Buggy.

You quickly figure out that, like all crew attitudes, it trickles down from the top.

Of course Buggy isn’t going around hugging crew members (when he’s sober) and he does lose his temper often, but there’s also a softness to him. He’s got nicknames for everyone, and everyone gets their time in the spotlight. He personally reviews all the circus acts and when someone wants to do something new it’s rare he says no.

Everyone in the crew is a misfit, but because of that, no one is. A group of people who have never felt respected or wanted before suddenly find themselves belonging- it makes sense why everyone was surprisingly warm. But you still have a hard time handling it, especially when it comes to Buggy.

It’s the damn nicknames.

Story weaver, dearest chronicler, writing star. And the worst part? It’s always his.

My story weaver.

My star.

Never in a tone that makes you feel owned or degraded- quite the opposite really. You’re treasured, respected, seen. It’s been too long since you felt that way and the reblooming of those emotions was… uncomfortable.

But you don’t think you’d ever want it to stop.

“My lovely chronicler-“ It’s Buggy who suddenly throws you out of your thoughts with affection and a hand on your shoulder. “I have to cancel our meeting tonight.”

“What? Why?” You want to kick yourself for sounding even slightly hurt.

“Not your fault- turns out I’m a few days behind on planning out supply orders for when we dock tomorrow.” By a few days you know he means he hasn’t thought about supplies since they last docked.

“Oh, well, do you need help?” The second you finish your sentence you feel a light elbow in your side from one of the tightrope walkers but before you can turn to look at him your attention is grabbed by a clap from Buggy.

“Great! See you tonight!” He says, already walking away.

You turn to the source of the elbow. “What was that for?”

“I’m sorry, you totally just got suckered into doing all his paper work.” He says apologetically.

“Yeah, he’s done this with just about every crew member. You’re the only one who doesn’t know his trick.” Another one explains.

“Well, he is the captain, he could just make one of us do it.” You say, still very confused about this whole situation.

“Yeah, but then he has to admit that he messed up and needs someone else to do his work. This way he is just, I don’t know, reveling in his crew’s generosity.” Yeah, that sounds like him.

“I’m not going to get any sleep tonight am I.”

“Nope.” You get a few reassuring pats on the back as you slump onto the table.

“Captain?” Later in the day you knock on his door and come in at his usual ‘come in’.

You walk in and see papers everywhere. There’s no organization, no sense that he’s actually began to work on anything, just papers on almost every flat surface you can see. You don’t think half of these are relevant to what needs to be done.

“My darling most beloved star.” Buggy calls from behind his desk. He’s laying it on thick so you don’t run away.

“Did one of your bombs explode in here?” You carefully walk over to his desk, hopping over random papers on your way.

“Yes?” It’s obvious he’s lying.

“Well… I guess we have our work cut out for us.” You make it across from him and start looking at papers, trying to find some sense.

“Yes. I trust you implicitly- now I’m just going to go-“ He stands up and you glare at him.

“You’re not going anywhere.” You’re a little annoyed, but there’s no real malice in your words. Despite that, Buggy still shrinks back.

“But you’ve got this.” He says, confidence quickly draining from his voice.

“It would go a lot faster if we work together. Come on. We will start by organizing. Figure out what actually needs to be done for tomorrow and go from there.” You gesture to the mess on his desk before you get to work on the papers discarded on the floor.

“But-“

“No.” You cut him off without even looking at him- you know he’s using his puppy dog eyes.

“Fine.” He grumbles and you hear the shift of papers that tells you he’s at least pretending to do something.

It takes you hours to get everything sorted but after that the actual work doesn’t take that long. You have a pretty good knowledge of what supplies everyone needs and the average use of those supplies in a day- you write it all down typically. All in all you’re done and dusted just before midnight, an accomplishment really.

Buggy is moping at his desk, the reward of a job well done isn’t really enough for him after he actually had to put in some effort. You’ve set up a schedule for him too- something he’ll probably ignore but you’re pretty hopeful.

“That’s it right?” His voice is partially muffled by his face being smooshed down into the wood of his desk.

“Yes, we are all done for the night.” You reply, straightening out the last stack of files on his desk.

“Yay.” His voice is flat and devoid of all joy.

“You’re pretty childish for a captain, you know that?” You take a seat across the desk, not quite ready to leave.

“That’s part of my charm darling.” He lifts his face so his chin is resting on the desk.

Darling.

That was a new one.

“It’s not your best feature but I guess it is a part of your whole deal.” You admit, still trying to shake off the weird stirring of emotions from the new pet name.

He perks up instantly, sitting up in his chair. “What’s my best feature?”

“Hm?”

“You said it’s not my best feature, which implies you know my best feature. What is it?” His smile is wide, matching his face paint.

“Ah-“ Well. You know exactly what his best feature is but you hesitate to say. It’s not what a pirate captain typically wants to hear but… well he’s anything but typical.

“I think your best feature is that you care. Genuinely. You yell and stomp around at the crew but you always make sure all of our needs are met. To some people finding the One Piece is just the thing pirates do but you care with every fiber of your being. When you want to do something, really want to do it, you throw yourself into it for better or for worse. Your risks end up paying off more often than not and I don’t think that’s a coincidence.”

There’s an awkward pause where Buggy’s smile drops a bit and he stares at you and you think that you’ve fucked up. He is still a pirate captain with an ego and not telling him that his strength or intellect was his best feature was a dumb mistake. But then he coughs, a fake awkward cough and you’re not sure what’s going on.

“Oh that’s- yeah- I mean what am I if not the best captain to work for in all of the seas.” The smile returns to his face but there’s something you can’t place and you feel like you’ve misstepped.

“It’s late- I should go-“ You stand up and quickly head to the door but Buggy’s voice stops you right before you exit.

“Hey-“ You turn and look at him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” There’s more hovering in the space between you but none of it can be put into words.

You leave.

Even if the Buggy pirates were worlds different from any other crew you had worked with they still party like every other pirate crew after a victory. Just a little more explosive. Literally.

You had never seen fireworks before so you were laying down on an upper deck while the loud party raged a few decks down, reveling in the bright and colorful explosions that shattered across the sky. You know Buggy made them all himself, he was surprisingly talented in pyrotechnics. It was overwhelming to your senses in the way that Buggy often was-

You’ve found yourself thinking more and more about him recently. You don’t want to think about what that means so you just shove those things down and focus on the shimmering colors dancing around the sky.

Until, of course, your captain finds you.

“My star! We are all missing our chronicler at the party!” His head peaks up over the ladder as he calls to you but you wave a dismissive hand.

“I’m just enjoying the fireworks, I’ll be down later.” You say, perched up on your elbows.

Buggy pulls himself all the way up the ladder before walking over and taking a seat next to you. “I’m glad someone is enjoying all my hard work.”

“I’d never seen fireworks before tonight.” You admit, laying back down fully.

“Really? Well I’m glad I could introduce you.” He lays down as well, only a few inches separating you two as you both lay flat on your backs.

“It’s- I mean I have no idea how you do it. It’s seriously magic.” You turn your head to look at him, admiring the profile of his face under the multicolored lights of the fireworks.

“It’s all chemicals and patience. I know, surprising that I have that.” He looks at you, a sly smile on his face.

“There really is nothing our fearless captain can’t do when he puts his mind to it.” You half joke, nudging his arm with your elbow. “But really- how do you get all those different colors?”

“Well-“

As the different fireworks explode in the sky he tells you the different chemicals he used to get the respective colors and effects. Somewhere in the explanations and pointing he’s right next to you, arms and thighs pressed together. You can’t help but lean into his warmth against the cool wind of the sea.

“I guess there will have to be a chapter on fireworks in your chronicle.” You say after the fireworks slowly die out, all of them used up by now.

“You can just slide that chapter in when things get too boring. Wake readers up with an explosion!” His hand gestures over both of your bodies.

“I’m not sure there will be any time where your story will be too boring. I’m pretty sure just by being a clown pirate you’re always interesting.”

Out of the corner of your eye you see Buggy turn his face towards yours. In turn you move your face as well, and you can feel his warm breath fan over your face.

He’s really quite beautiful in the moonlight.

“Do you really think that?” He asks, so quiet you almost don’t hear him over the low drone of the party below.

“Of course.” You answer automatically.

“I uh-“ You see a panic set over his face and you wonder if you’ve done something wrong. He sits up and you sit up in turn, confusion on your face.

“I should get back down to the party. It’s been-“ He stands up and practically trips over his own feet. “Nice.”

You watch him quickly descend the ladder and you’re suddenly very aware of how cold it is out on the deck at night.

You’re not sure what you did, but you messed something up.

You stop having your nightly meetings. It’s once a week now and he blames it on the recent partnership with Alvida and her crew but you know there’s something else. You got too comfortable with your captain and distance had to be created. You were disrespectful and you needed to learn your place.

You weren’t his anymore.

Chronicler, sure. Star, sometimes. You almost despised when he used your actual name. The burning feeling of being discarded weighs in your chest every time you see him.

It was only after how painful and hard you took the slightest bit of rejection that you realized you might have feelings for your captain. Stupid inappropriate feelings. You hadn’t put the label on it before, pushing any feelings down into the pit of your gut but with how quickly they turned sour you couldn’t help but feel them rise up and burn your throat.

Stupid how you realize these things too late.

Because now there’s a new crew, a new partnership, and plenty of shiny new objects for Buggy to be enamored with. None of them you.

You still did your job through- dutifully chronicling each day. Your emotions will pass and this job is still far and away the best you’ve ever landed. You won’t throw it away over a stupid unrequited crush.

It’ll pass.

Someday.

But today isn’t that day as a pang rings through your chest as you see Buggy loop an arm around Alvida’s shoulder and pull her in close. You know there’s nothing going on between the two of them (you’re fairly confident Alvida doesn’t swing that way) but seeing him pay attention to someone else the way he paid attention to you-

You sounded like a child didn’t you.

You were just about to excuse yourself from the area when Buggy spots you and calls you over with a quick shout of your title. Taking a deep breath you steel yourself and put on a smile before walking over.

“Yes captain?” You say, overly formal as you hold your journal close.

“I was thinking maybe you could do a few weeks with the Alvida pirates, you know, get a better look at their side of things! Wrap them into the story of the Genius Jester!” He gestured grandly with his free hand.

“Oh, well, if that’s okay with captain Alvida…” You look towards the dark haired woman who shrugs.

“I’ve never had a chronicler before so I guess I wouldn’t mind seeing what it’s all about.”

“Great! Our perfect partnership continues!” Buggy looks at you. “How’s a month sound?”

A month. He wants to get rid of you for a whole month. You swallow down your emotions. “When have I ever not followed my captain’s orders?”

“You are a loyal crew member. And it’s not like you aren’t going to see all of your crew mates! It’s just shifting focus for a bit.” It’s true, both crews frequently overlap ships but you know you’re going to be glued to that gaudy pink ship (not that the ship you were currently on wasn’t gaudy, just a different kind).

“Fine by me captain.” You say, making your voice as cheerful as possible.

“Great.”

“Good.”

There’s a long pause where the two of you are just standing there, Alvida casting glances to both of you.

“Well if that’s all I’ll go pack some of my things for my stay.” You say, already taking a step backwards.

“Yes, good idea! Always taking initiative!” He waves goodbye and you turn around as fast as possible, walking at a brisk pace when you really want to run.

Working with Alvida wasn’t bad at all. You checked in with her once a week and she was pretty receptive to your work, provided you added in a lot of extra pages about how beautiful she was. At first it was annoying, but once you got used to it she was surprisingly nice to you.

You were two weeks into your month with her and she was already asking you about how to hire her own chronicler. It was rewarding to know that you’ve done a good enough job so far that she would seek out someone like you. You were working hard, trying to shift your focus from your emotions into something more productive.

It didn’t work.

Every day you found yourself looking around the decks hoping to catch a glimpse of your captain visiting. He was never there.

You saw plenty of your other crew mates- both crews frequented both ships as you sailed together. It was nice having that familiarity, but the reminder that you were specifically sent away while they got to go back to their ship every night stung.

“Ah, chronicler.” Alvida’s voice shook you out of your thoughts, having zoned out while recording what the meals were for the day in the kitchen.

“Hello Alvida, was there something you needed?” Your finger slipped into your journal as a placeholder as you turned your attention to her.

“Yes. I just finished discussing some business with Buggy and your good work came up.” You couldn’t help but puff up a bit- You did want him to know you were still exceeding at your job. “And then he made me an offer that I’d like to extend to you. He said if I wanted you full time I had his permission, so. Would you like to be my chronicler?”

There’s a full 30 seconds that you have to take to process the words that were said to you and come up with a response that doesn’t sound like your heart just got shattered into a million pieces.

“Oh wow, that’s quite the offer I- uh-“ Your mind is struggling to work under the weight of your emotions and Alvida catches on that you’re overwhelmed.

“It’s a big change so you can take some time to think about it. Just come to me when you have your answer.” She gives you a curt nod before heading off, leaving you with your spiraling thoughts.

You manage to hold back your tears until you’re at you bunk, burying your face in your pillow to catch your flow of tears. There was something so painful about being shipped off to someone else, being so unwanted he couldn’t stand to work with you anymore. You’re not even sure what you did wrong which might be the most frustrating part.

If you could lead this all back to one action you took maybe you could make it better- maybe you could go back.

But you didn’t.

You know when you’re not wanted.

Later that day you knock on Alvida’s door and accept her offer. All your stuff is already on her ship so you don’t ever have to step foot on Buggy’s ship ever again.

It’s easier that way.

A month has gone by of officially being the chronicler of the Alvida pirates. It’s… fine. Painfully fine. Perfectly average.

You stop wearing bright colors, swapped out for the pinks and reds that cover the ship. You still keep your old clothes, tucked away in a box that also has the journal you used to chronicle your time the the Buggy pirates. The sequins and stripes keep it safe and far away from you, letting you pull back at the last second before you obsessively repour over the pages to find where you went wrong.

You were getting better.

You stopped crying every night, you stopped longing looking over the bow at Buggy’s ship, you stopped searching for him whenever your old crew came over.

The lingering feelings will pass soon, and you eagerly count down the days until your heart patches itself up and moves on.

It was easy to ignore your emotions during a storm. All your energy focused on locking up your stuff and going where you were needed- you were a chronicler but all hands on deck meant all hands.

It was a nasty storm- lighting and high waves bashing against the hull repeatedly and ruthlessly. You were down below deck, sent on your own to grab emergency medical supplies from deep storage, two crew members had already broken bones and there were probably going to be countless other injuries before the storm let up. Boxes shoved in your arms you were making your way back up to the medical bay when you heard it- the sound you never want to hear below deck.

The sound of wood breaking.

You hear the hit of a strong wave before the groaning of wood and then that dreaded sound. You only have a second to process it before you hear the flood of seawater rushing in. Dropping the boxes you quickly jump to the ladder, scrambling up as you hear water flooding in behind you.

You make it up the ladder and halfway to the next one before the next wave hits. Your world jolts under you and you’re flung to the floor and the back of your head hits the deck- hard.

Your vision swims as you feel sea water rushing over your body and you push yourself up, ignoring the nausea overwhelming your senses. You crawl to the ladder, water threatening to grab and pull you under. Grasping the rung of the ladder you try to pull yourself up before your realize just how hurt you must be.

The pain, the blurry vision, you barely have control over your body. There’s no way you can pull yourself up the ladder. The sea was going to take you and you didn’t have the senses about you to swim. It was over.

You hang your head, watching the water swell up around your body as you wonder if all your works will go missing to the sea. Maybe there will be nothing left of you. Or maybe someone will find your journal- just dry enough that the words haven’t dissolved and run together. Maybe someone will remember you.

Somewhere in the distance someone shouts your name.

You’re confident it’s your addled mind playing tricks on you until it’s louder and right above you- loud and frantic. You look upwards and see Buggy, rain soaked and panicked.

Now you’re really confident you’re seeing things.

“Grab my hand!” He lays down on the deck above you and extends his hand and everything becomes real painfully fast.

“Get out of here! The water- You can’t-“ You yell out, head throbbing.

“I said grab my hand! Captain’s orders!” He shouts and you don’t think you’ve ever heard him so serious.

Gathering up all the strength in your body you pull yourself up a few rungs until you can reach out and grab his hand, quickly being violently pulled up the rest of the way.

“Can you walk?” He asks, yanking you up to your feet. You fall into his body, answering his question for him. “Alright.”

Suddenly one of his arms is under your knees and the other is around your shoulders and you’re being carried, your vision obscured by Buggy’s clothes. It’s better that way, you think hazily, to see him and not your death waiting to swallow you up. Maybe it’s a trick your mind is playing and you’re down in that lower deck, knocked out and drowning. But as you curl up against him and your thoughts fade to nothingness it’s a trick you’re willing to accept.

If your last thoughts are of him it’s not a bad way to go.

You wake up with a start- jolting up in bed before realizing how much that sudden action hurts. Your hand flies to the back of your head and you realize it’s been bandaged up.

“Hey- take it easy.” Eyes flicking up you see Buggy standing up from a chair in the corner of your room.

Your room- back on Buggy’s ship.

“You really should lay back down.” He’s a few steps closer now and in the dimmed light of the room you can finally get a good look at him.

He looks like shit. Dark circles under his eyes, he probably hasn’t shaved in a few days, and his normal face paint is missing. He’s down to just his vest and pants, normal bright accessories missing.

The memories of the ship sinking come rushing back to you and a panic sets into your chest. “Wait what happened- the ship- the crew-“

“Hey, hey, it’s alright calm down.” He sits down on the bed and takes one of your hands in his. “Alvida’s ship sank, but we managed to get everyone out and on here before she went down.”

Your breathing evens out and you relax a bit. “Good.”

“We were calling everyone to get on board here right when you had left to go grab supplies- you were missing so I came and got you.” He explains, putting the remaining pieces together for you.

“You-“

“Just wanted to make sure you woke up alright so now I-“ He drops your hand and stands up. “Will go.”

He gets to the door before your words stop him.

“You shouldn’t have done that. It was- you could have easily died. You can’t swim and you didn’t even-“ You screw your eyes shut, brain still putting itself back together from the hard hit.

“Captain’s duties.” He explains shortly, hand still on the doorknob and not looking at you.

“Yeah but, you’re not my captain. You made it painfully clear you did not want to be my captain.” You swing your feet off the bed, glaring holes into his back as weeks of repressed emotions come leaking out the broken and battered seams.

“It’s not like that-“ He says, forehead meeting the wood of your door.

“Then what is it like then? Because I’m just confused and hurt! I don’t understand!” Your hands fist in the sheets of your bed as tears well up in your eyes.

“Please don’t-“ He turns around and you see the hurt in his eyes. “Don’t cry.”

“Then tell me what I did wrong!” You shout, hot tears spilling down your cheeks.

“Nothing. You did nothing wrong.” He wrings his hands and looks down at the floor. “You’re too- you’re too good for me.”

The words ring in the dim space and confusion comes over your already frazzled mind. “What?”

“You- okay.” He takes a deep breath and shift from foot to foot. “You have this grand idea of who I am. You think I’m smart and caring and a good captain and that’s just not true. I’m not any of those things. I’m just a huge faker. I was never meant to be a captain- I just keep doing it because I have to.”

You look over his anxious form and finally see what he’s been hiding under all those flashy clothes and bright face paint. He was truly and painfully insecure.

You go to stand up, slipping off the bed to try and land on your feet but your vision blurs and you slip and you’re sure you’re going to crack your head on the floor again. But before you can land your being held, Buggy’s hands having quickly detached and grabbed you. The rest of his body runs over only seconds later, connecting his hands back and placing you delicately back on your bed.

You’re sitting up again, Buggy anxiously standing next to the bed as he looks over your body, checking to make sure you’re okay. This time you reach out, taking Buggy’s hand despite the fact you can see him wanting to run away again.

“Buggy, you’re really stupid sometimes.” You see his face shift into pure confusion and you elaborate. “I don’t think those things because of all the acts you put on- I think those things because that’s what I really think after spending so much time with you. I know who you are, don’t think I don’t.”

Buggy practically collapses, sitting next to you on the bed. “Don’t say that.”

“Why not?” You grip harder on his hand, pulling yourself closer to him.

“Because I don’t want to disappoint you.” He admits, his voice cracking under his emotions.

“You- all this time- Buggy, look at me.” You pull at his hand, urging him to follow your directive.

He does and you see all the emotions you’ve been feeling swirling in his eyes. “I care about you. And I don’t care if you think you’ll disappoint me! I just want you.”

You feel something break as you stare into each others eyes and in a flash he’s on you- lips pressing harshly against yours. He’s messy and harsh and frantic as he overwhelms you and you let him. Your freehand tangles in his hair and holds his head close. Neither of you break the kiss until you absolutely need to, pulling away gasping for air as spit still connects the two of you.

“Do you mean it?” He whispers, forehead pressed against yours.

“Did it feel like I meant it?” You grin, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“I don’t know… I might have to check again.” You see a smile creep back onto his face and you pull him in again.

He kisses you like a man starved, eagerly throwing himself into you. He nips at your lips, pulling playfully as he slides on top of you, your body sliding down into the bed in turn. You can’t tell if his hands are attached to his body or not as you feel them wandering your skin, pushing up under the hem of your shirt and grabbing onto your waist. You whine into his mouth and he pulls away quickly.

“Did I- sorry is this too fast we can-“ You shut him up by pulling him in for a quick kiss.

“I want more.” You say against his lips and he nods so furiously you think his head might fall off.

His lips trail down, kissing where your jaw and throat meet. As he does so you feel a deft hand undo the fastenings on your pants and sliding into them, plunging past the hem of your underwear and to your folds. Your hips buck up as his fingers ghost over you and you hear him chuckle.

“Don’t laugh at me!” You lightly hit his back, unable to stop smiling.

“I’m not, I’m not.” He claims, but you know otherwise. It’s hard to be mad at him though when his fingers pry open your folds and he sucks in a breath when he finally dips in. “Fuck you’re wet.”

“All for-“ You’re cut off by your own moan as two fingers press into you. “All for you.”

His motions still for a second before he’s biting into your neck as his fingers sink all the way into you. “Can’t just say that stuff. Fuck you don’t know what you do to me.”

You feel him grind up against your leg and that sends a thrill through you and you push further. “Missed you so much- thought about you every day-“

“My lovely star-“ He breathes into your skin, fingers pumping in and out of you.

“That- I missed that. Missed you calling me yours.” You admit through moans as his fingers stretched you out.

All of a sudden his fingers are pulling out and you whine as he sits up. In a flash hands are tugging your shirt up and off your body while he shimmies down your bed. Once your shirt is discarded he can pull down your pants, hands smoothing over your thighs. He takes a few moments to just look at you and your face heats up.

“See you still need to learn how to take a compliment.” He jokes as he lays back down, pushing apart your thighs so he can settle between them.

“This is not the same.” You try and argue, your hand drifting to his bright blue hair as he kisses up the inside of your thighs.

“Whatever you say.” You want to argue further but all coherent thoughts leave your brain when you feel his breath on your folds.

You feel his fingers spread you apart before he dives in, tongue eagerly lapping up your slick. Your hand fists in his hair as he pushes his tongue into you, the thick muscle a welcome sensation. When his tongue leaves you, you whine but it quickly dissolves into a moan as he wraps his lips around your clit.

“Fuck- Buggy- Just like that!” You buck your hips up into his mouth and you feel his fingers slip back into you.

He listens, repeating the motion and adding a third finger inside you. His other hand comes around to the back of your leg, hiking it up over his shoulder so he can have better access. His tongue swirls between your clit and thrusting in with his fingers. As your orgasm builds up you pull tighter at his hair in warning and you feel him groan into your folds. The vibration against your clit edges you ever closer so you pull again, not missing the way his hips jerk up against the bed as you do.

He sucks on your clit as his fingers curl inside you and the dam breaks, orgasm washing over you. Buggy slowly pulls his fingers out of you but you still feel his tongue on you, lapping up your slick as you come down.

You gently pull on his hair, urging him to come closer to you. He gets the message, sliding up your body until he’s face to face with you, his lips and chin glistening with your juices.

“Can I repay the favor?” You ask, your hands sliding down his body until he shakes his head.

“Baby- if I even see you on your knees in front of me I’m going to blow my load before I can get inside you.” His confession makes your skin run hot as you surge up to him, kissing him deeply.

“Then get inside me.” You say when you finally pull away, your own taste lingering in your mouth.

“Oh, who’s the captain now?” He grins as he slides off the bed to quickly take off his vest and pants.

You can’t help but stare at his cock, long and curved and you need it inside you now. He sees you staring at it’s the ego boost he needs as he crawls back in bed, slotting his hips between your thighs. His hand guides his tip to rub against your clit and you whine impatiently. He chuckles but lines himself up with your entrance before slowly pushing in.

“You’re so- warm- tight- fuck-“ Buggy thrusts into you despite himself, every inch of him inside you all at once and you practically scream his name.

“Can’t help myself baby you feel-“ His body covers yours as he mouths at your collarbone and throat and whatever skin he can find. “So much better than I thought.”

“You thought about me?” You manage out, breathless.

“Every damn day and night I-“ His thrusts are erratic but you can’t bring yourself to care when he’s still making you feel so good. “Sometimes, after you left our meetings I’d- I’d touch myself the second you left I couldn’t stop imagining you on my desk I- fuck-“

Knowing he thought about you like that did things to you and you drag your nails down his back and hook your legs around his waist, unable to verbalize through your moans. You can tell he’s close already, the throb of his cock and the way his filthy words are getting increasingly slurred. You’re close too, and you reach up and grab Buggy’s hand, urging it down to your sensitive bud. He takes the direction well, his thumb rubbing right circles that make you see stars.

“Where- I’m so close-“ He chokes out and as he goes to pull out you clench your legs tighter, trapping him inside you.

“Fill me up, please Buggy.” You whine and that’s it for him.

You feel hot ropes of cum fill you up as he groans into your neck. He manages to still work your clit so it’s only a few moments after him that you’re orgasming again, milking every drop of cum out of him. Breathless, he collapses on top of you, softening cock still in you.

You wrap your arms around him, holding him tight as though letting him go means he’d drift away from you again. He nuzzled into your neck and must sense that somethings up.

“‘m not gonna be that stupid again.” He says, pressing a kiss to your neck. “Not gonna let you go.”

“I’m your chronicler again?” You ask, voice weak with emotions.

“Until the end of time.” He promises, and you trust him completely.

#one piece x reader #one piece x you #x reader #buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy the clown x reader

[mingirn]

tell me it's love

mark lee x reader

genre: smut, some angst and fluff

warnings: dry humping, cumming untouched, childhood best friends to fuck buddies, unrequited love, hidden feelings

word count: 3.6k

notes: first nct fic kinda nervous. there will be a part 2 to this i already have most of it written i just got scared it’d be too long LMFAO

”Do you like it better like this? Or, wait- like this?”

Mark is sitting on his floor in front of the full-length mirror he’d demanded help from both you and Johnny to put up. He’s messing with his hair, it’s been a while since he’s gotten a haircut and this is a new routine. He’ll sit in front of the mirror, arranging his bangs to lay across his forehead, or pushing them back, parting his hair in the middle and on each side, asking for your opinions.

”Mark,” you sigh. ”You keep asking this, but then you still wear your hair like you always do anyways.”

”Yeah, but… it looks stupid, doesn’t it?”

You haven’t even bothered to look up at him. You don’t need to in order to predict what he’ll look like, it’s the 4th night in a row now and you’ve seen it all. Instead, you keep your eyes on your book.

”If it bothers you so much, why don’t you cut it?” you ask.

”And ask Yuta again? After last time? It took me three months to grow that tragedy out, no way!” He breathes out something between a sigh and a groan and slumps down on the floor with a thud.

”Then stop complaining.”

Mark protests with an overblown sigh, but offers no rebuttal. Your focus shifts back to your book now, getting lost in the plot while Mark lies in silence on the floor. His dorm room is nicely lit, glowing warmly from his night lamp and a few fairy lights he’s got set up. The campus has that usual 10 pm quiet, and you know you should drag yourself back to your own dorm room soon but Marks bed is just so nice and soft, and your book is just getting good, and it is Friday.

”You got any space for me up there?” Mark asks, already making his way up and without waiting for your answer he’s climbing onto the bed.

You huff a little from the sudden disruption, but this is also pretty much routine, and Mark quickly finds a resting spot for his head on your shoulder.

”Still the same one?” he asks, as if it isn’t obvious.

”Yeah. If you’d stop distracting me, I might actually be able to finish it sometime.”

It’s Marks turn to huff now. He lays in silence next to you for a while, though it's all but peaceful. Mark always fidgets, he just always seems to be buzzing with something. There are these pressures and expectations packed tightly under his skin and a brain that never seems to shut off. It's Friday, he's got two days of rest ahead of him, yet you know he's probably already going through the schedule for next week in his head.

"Mark," you say, softly and silently.

"Mm?"

"You're squirming."

"Oh, sorry," he apologizes, sounding more like he's sighing. He runs his hand over his face, as if to reset, then sighs again.

You ponder for a moment. Then you speak, "Remember when we got drunk like two weeks ago? I threw up in your bathroom and afterward you read to me to keep me from freaking out."

Mark hums.

"What if- do you want to lay in my lap? You could read to me, and I'll play with your hair. Maybe it'll relax you," you suggest.

"Mhm, yeah, that'd be nice.." he murmurs. He lets you scoot yourself up to make space for him, with the way you're sat against the wall. He lays the side of his head down on your thigh, grabbing your book and bracing it against your leg so that he can easily turn the pages.

"Should I just start here?" he asks.

"At the second paragraph," you tell him.

He clears his throat and starts reading. The back of his head is turned towards you, like this you can brush your fingers through the thick of his hair. Mark sounds sleepy, his voice is low and warm, sounding very soft as he reads out loud. If his hair didn't feel so nice in your hands you think you could fall asleep right here, lulled by only his voice.

His hair really has gotten long. It's been a long time since he's dyed it too, there's some brown left at the tips but most of it is his natural color by now. You card your fingers through it, pressing at his scalp and feeling him melt in your hands.

This is what you like best, you think. Times like these, when it's quiet around you and it feels like no one exists but you and Mark. Like this, like the warmth of his cheek against your leg, the soft strands of hair between your fingers, the sound of his voice filling your head.

Your eyes start to drift a little, first following the sight of his dark hair falling from your hands, then down to his neck, then over the expanse of his shoulders. You rarely let yourself do this, to just look at him. You've convinced yourself that letting your eyes linger on him for more than a few seconds would tell on you. Like he'd be able to look into your eyes and little confessions would float in your irises, that he'd know just from looking that you're in love with him. With his back against you like this you feel shielded, you can let yourself look.

He’s wearing a thin shirt with a wide neckline, it almost hangs off of his shoulders and you’re struck with the need to just touch him. It's like a silent bet, you dare yourself to move your hand down just a little. The tips of your fingers ghost down the back of his neck where his skin is fully exposed. Mark twitches, and you get scared for just a moment, wanting to pull back, worrying that his body is alarmed at your touch. But you keep your hand in place, and he lets you.

His skin is warm under your hand, and there’s still a sliver of bare skin underneath your hand, so you trail your fingers down, all the way to where the hem of his shirt is hanging.

Something in the room shifts. Marks voice stutters and he sucks in a deep breath of air. You can hear it hitch in his throat, and you expect him to ask you what you're doing, for the illusion to break. But he does nothing, just squares his shoulders to lean into your touch.

You keep it light, dragging your fingertips up and down his back, staying outside of his shirt. It's thin enough that you can still feel the heat of his body through the fabric. You can also feel the way his ribs rise and fall with each breath he takes, how it's becoming faster.

Suddenly, Mark stops reading. He draws another deep breath, and from what you can see of his face you notice his eyes fluttering shut. There's a long silent moment where it feels like time stands still. The only thing that is happening, the single action taking place while the rest of the universe stops is Mark turning towards you.

And surely he must know, then. He's looking into your eyes, and doing nothing to avert from them. In absolute silence, he grabs your hand and lays it on his chest. You wonder if the universe has resumed moving yet, or if time is still only yours and Marks.

Mark closes his eyes again, and he squeezes your hand. His instruction is wordless, but you understand it nonetheless. Touch me, he urges.

You gather the courage to move your hand down, coming over the muscles that make up his chest. He’s almost feverishly warm, and you can feel his chest move with every labored breath. You've never touched him like this before, flattening your hand over his stomach and moving over every little inch of his torso. You're really taking him in, learning what he feels like, how defined his muscles are, how broad his chest is.

Marks mouth falls open, and he lets out a low, quiet moan. It heats you, like this hot flash that shoots through your body and makes your chest tighten. It's so bright and hot that it knocks the wind out of you.

Moving solely on instinct, just this thoughtless and desperate urge, the sight of his parted lips has you trailing your hand up his chest, and then along the column of his neck to end up at his mouth. You tap the pad of your pointer finger against his lips once, to test the waters. Mark pouts, chasing your touch. You abide, tracing your finger over his bottom lip and feeling his hot breath against your finger.

”You’re so pretty, Mark,” you tell him. You're not even thinking. Your hands move on their own and so does your mouth.

His eyes open again, so heavily lidded, and for a moment you think he’s about to say something. That maybe his eyes will sharpen and he's going to snap out of this illusion. Instead, he sits up. His gaze is focused on you and there still isn't a hint of hesitation or distress in his eyes.

”Please,” he pleas, only that.

You pat his shoulder, ”What, please? What do you want?”

”I want to kiss you.”

Mark blinks, looking down at your lips as he says it. You should probably stop to ask him if he means it, if it’s just a heat of the moment thing, but he’s so beautiful, and so eager, and his eyes still have not left your mouth. You just lean forward, connecting your lips with his and Mark kisses you back in an instant.

Whatever first kisses are supposed to be, you're sure this isn't it. In the books you read they describe the fireworks, the instant passion and how their lips just meld together. With Mark it's clumsy, he makes contact with the corner of your mouth and pulls back too quickly, then kisses you again before you've regained your breath. You can feel your heart pound in your chest and you swear Mark can hear it, and you wonder if his heart is doing the same. The very tips of your fingers feel cold, your entire body is filled with a heat so warm it's paralyzing and all you can think about is the fact that Mark is still kissing you.

He's not pulling away. He kisses you, again, and again, and again. It makes your heart surge, the fact that he isn't scared off by how awkward it is at first. The possibility of what that means rushes through you like a wave but you forbid yourself to ruminate on it now.

Whatever first kisses are, this isn't it, but it's infinitely better.

Marks hands come up to your neck, curling around the back of it so that he can pull you impossibly close as he parts his lips, swiping his tongue along yours. You have to part for air but he hardly lets you, with the way he keeps his lips just close enough to be ghosting yours.

"Touch me," he whispers into the kiss.

You’re not exactly sure where he wants you, but he releases a satisfactory hum when you trace your hands down over his chest. He leans his forehead against yours and you can feel his breath come out hot and short against your mouth. Spurred on by the moment, you trail your hands even lower to lift the hem of his shirt to touch his bare hips. He gasps at the contact, and a whine builds in the back of his throat, so quiet that you’d be unable to catch it if he wasn’t so close.

He's right above you, closer than he's ever been before and he guides you to lie down. He's laying on top of you now, pressed against you so that you can feel him everywhere. Your hands are frantic under his shirt, rushing to feel every inch of him. Quiet moans continue to slip past his lips the more you touch him, and you wish to swallow them all up.

”Take my shirt off,” he mumbles, barely parting from your lips to speak. It's already hiked up his torso, all you need to do is bring it over his head and your hands tremble when he sits back to let you take it off.

You watch him, breathless, as he sits shirtless in front of you. His hair is messy, ruffled by the shirt and he shakes his head to get it to fall pretty again. Mark leaves little time for you to take in the sight of him bare before he's kissing you again, this time far more passionately.

Somewhere in the haze of it all you've spread your legs, and Mark has positioned himself between them. His hands are as rushed as yours, moving over your thighs and the side of your ass, squeezing at your hips, feeling you everywhere he can. Mark whines, letting out these desperate sounds into your mouth that only quiet down when you wrap your legs around his hips and press him against your body.

Everything about it is needy, neither of you can get enough. Marks hands are everywhere, tangling his fingers into your hair, caressing your face, cradling your jaw, wrapped around your neck. It's like you're making up for all the time you haven't had each other like this. A million touches laced into this one hand on his naked torso, so many words spoken in this total silence.

Mark pulls away, moving to trail kisses over your jaw. A spot in the junction of your ear and jaw makes you gasp once he kisses it, and Mark smiles. He lets out this satisfied chuckle, and there's still a smile on his lips when he puts his mouth on your neck again. He sucks your skin into his mouth, letting his teeth grace ever so slightly against your neck. His mouth feels so good on you, it has little gasps and moans spilling from your mouth. Embarrassment makes you silence them as best you can, but Mark seems dedicated to making you even louder.

He starts to leave open-mouthed kisses down your neck, stopping sometimes to suck your skin into his mouth. He falters by a spot right above your collarbone, just where your shoulder starts, where he sinks his teeth into the flesh. Your body just melts, and you feel weightless, only whispering out his name under hushed breaths.

"Hm, you okay?" he asks, breaking away from the kiss. He comes up to your face again, close like before, where his breath tickles your mouth.

"What?" you ask, before you realize where his concern has come from. "Oh, yeah, yeah. More than okay. You?"

"Me? I'm okay," he laughs. Your heart is beating out of your chest, and your fingertips have still not returned to their normal temperature. It's still the same Mark looking back at you right now, the one you knew as a child, the Mark you've spent every milestone of a lifetime with.

The way he looks at you is new though. His eyes flit from your eyes to your mouth, it makes him look dazed in a way.

"Do you.. do you want to?" He doesn't finish the question. He moves towards you ever so slightly, still focused on your lips. He barely waits for the little time it takes you to rush out a 'yeah, yeah, please' until his lips are back on yours and his hands return to your body.

Something inside of you clicks, bringing you back to reality instead of the swimming fantasy in your head. You become aware of the weight of him above you, and the fact that his lips taste like buttercream chapstick. You can feel his hands on you, fingertips chancing to go underneath your shirt. It has taken until now for you to realize that his hips are pressed against your own, and with your legs wrapped around him, he's so close, so fucking close that through all the layers of clothing, you can still feel that he's hard.

Just the feeling of it has your legs squeezing around him, without really meaning to you push yourself against him. Your stomach swirls and tightens and your own arousal builds as Mark starts grinding himself against you.

”Oh my god, what the fuck," his breath shudders, words spoken into a kiss.

He's not even making direct contact with you but it still feels so fucking good. Marks hand is under your shirt now, his soft fingers tracing your naked skin. His touch feels so good on your body, and he's starting to angle his hips in just the right way, so you can feel his dick right where it feels good.

His voice is hushed and strained, pulling away from you to rest his head in the crook of your neck while he moans your name. You're probably making too much noise, the walls are thin and you worry that anyone walking by would be able to hear the noise inside Marks room. It's only a fleeting thought, easily silenced by Mark groaning, deep and low, so that you can feel the vibrations in his chest.

"Mark, Mark," you whine. He lifts his head and looks at you, but his hips keep moving. "Kiss me, please."

He leans in for a clumsy kiss, his mouth clashing with yours. It's messy, all tongue and teeth, but you can hardly care when his hips rut against yours and his breathing is becoming more jagged. You wish he'd keep kissing you, but when he pulls back and only looks at you, it doesn't matter. You're too enamored by him, watching every microexpression on his face and reveling in his beauty, and what that means for your friendship is something you’re not willing to unpack now.

It feels almost infinite, cosmic in a way, this very second that Mark stares into your eyes. His lips are parted and his eyes are still heavily lidded, there's a blush dusting his cheeks that's spreading all the way down his neck and chest.

"Baby," he gasps, leaning his forehead against yours. His hips stutter, getting faster and needier. He stutters, "Fuck, I'm- I'm gonna cum."

Words shouldn't do this much. His voice shouldn't be enough to make you feel like you could cum untouched but it is, and he keeps mumbling your name the closer he gets.

It's all a haze, your head is just filled with Mark, Mark, Mark and his voice seems to fill every space within you. You can't tell if you cum first or if he does, it's only moments before you're both grabbing onto each other and it feels like there isn't enough air in the world with how breathless you both become. Mark puts his lips to yours, too distracted to kiss but desperate enough that he needs you close.

You feel it out to your very fingertips, and it takes a second for the ringing in your ears to stop and for the air to return to your lungs. Mark is slowing his hips down, riding it out, and he finally kisses you.

The kiss is far too tender and careful for a moment like this. He’s so gentle, just brushing against your lips at first. His hand comes up to the back of your head, burying in your hair as he pulls you in even closer. You drag your hands along the sides of his torso, then curling around his shoulders in a hug.

"Mark," you try to say, muffled by his kiss.

"Mm, what?"

"We have to get cleaned up," you speak, sort of quietly. Part of you somehow believes that there's a barrier to be broken, like if you raise your voice something will exit the room and take this moment with it.

Mark lets out an exaggerated groan as he rolls off of you. The room is still dimly lit, just like before, the sky is still dark outside and you don't understand how everything is exactly the same when you aren't.

"Hm," he thinks for a moment. "Are you.. staying here, or?"

You suck in a breath. Something about the way he asks it feels kind of loaded. You've slept here before, next to him in this very bed, but something about the tone of his voice makes this feel different.

"Why?" you ask.

"Just cause, like, you'd need to borrow something to sleep in."

"Are you saying you'd make me walk to my room like this if I didn't want to sleep here?" you ask, faking upsetness. "This isn't only my cum, you know."

He looks over at you, at the little wet spot on your sweatpants that matches the one on his own.

"Jesus, yeah, sorry!" he laughs breathily, throwing his arm over his face. The whine in his voice is gone by now, but he's still being playful. Nothing in his tone conveys that he's upset, or that regret has set in. You need to stop dwelling on it though, or the deepest parts of your mind will find something to latch onto to ruin this. You can't think about it, any of it, it’s going to mess you up and you know it.

There's a moment of silence where your eyes fix on the ceiling. You steal little glances to the side, at Marks bare skin. You had just been touching him, your fingertips must be imprinted on some parts of his skin. Right now, the only part of him that is touching you is his pinky against yours. He moves it, just a little, like a twitch, and strokes it over your finger.

"So.. you're staying?" he asks.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm staying."

#queueing this to post while i sleep #mark lee x reader #nct x reader #nct smut #nct imagines #mark lee smut #nct scenarios #[🗒] mine #[📎] mark

[m4rried2the-moon]

⁽ 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘢 𝘱𝘪𝘤 ⁾ 𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 & 𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘤𝘢𝘱 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯

a look at what’s coming your way for capricorn season 🪄🚪⌛️💡

please only take what resonates, listen to your intuition closely. don’t second guess that gut feeling!

pile 1 - blessings: king of pentacles, five of cups, four of coins, eight of swords. lessons: seven of pentacles, six of wands, four of cups, page of wands.

a tough and brave energy is radiating from you this capricorn season, pile one. i’m seeing that whatever you were dealing with before this energy shift is less intimidating now, as if you realize that it’s not as scary as it seemed in the first place. your blessings are a sense of personal power, a confidence to overcome what seemed impossible before.

whether that be going after a career, studying a field or just a project you’ve had your sights on for a while but didn’t quite have the motivation? your blessing will be that final burst of strength to crack the cocoon so you can fly.

you’re excited aren’t you, pile one? as you should be. life looks like it’s taking a turn for the best, your applied efforts being met with recognition (maybe even that boost of self esteem/self recognition).

overall, your lesson this season is that things aren’t as bleak they seemed, your inner and outer world getting brighter and easier.

pile 2 - blessings: six of pentacles, seven of cups, ten of wands, the fool/king of swords. lessons: three of swords, seven of coins, ten of pentacles, four of swords.

ready for rest aren’t we, pile two? well please be assured, your blessings for this capricorn season is the balance of relief where you may have been overworking yourself (physically, mentally, emotionally). you’ve been doing a great deal of inner work haven’t you, pile two? it’s okay to allow yourself to celebrate, you’re in the final stretch.

you seem to be energetically wedged right between capricorn and their watery cousin, cancer during this season. but do remember that cancers tarot card is the chariot of completion and victory through righteous willpower. and capricorn is associated with the devil tarot card which often represents systems of power, self destruction and control.

with that being said, your lesson is embracing this more powerful cancerian energy of moving past that heartbreak of feeling trapped by your circumstances or delays and trusting you’ll succeed at what you’ve worked hard at.

embrace your self-understanding and know you’re headed in the right direction, pile two! your lesson is knowing your effort will never be fruitless if you’ve given it your all.

pile 3 - blessings: king of swords, page of swords, two of cups, eight of swords. lessons: nine of swords, three of cups, queen of cups, nine of cups.

looking sharp, pile three! you’re being blessed with an ardent venture in one way or another. there could even be something specific here that you may have been pursuing already but there is incoming information about it- a development of some kind that will reveal its full potential and make you even more sure about it.

almost as if you have already been fulfilling that capricious energy and now is the time where you can actually cut to the bone of your efforts.

it’s a very exciting and assured energy that is coming from you. you are ready but i feel that you may not even realize the actual magnitude of this pursuit! like you’re already like ‘yeah! i’m gonna do this, and this, and this-!’ and then it finally comes and you’re like ‘oh wow, that’s so much more than i expected’ in the best way possible.

overall, the lesson here is that you deserve the stuff you’ve been wanting. not only that, it looks like it’s finally a chance to actually relax this year (and the upcoming). like, this feels like the biggest christmas present you’ve ever received, pile three. i mean seriously, i’m seeing fun and abundance that will genuinely blow your mind lol. stay excited and focused, and expect the best, love!

that’s it for now, hope this helped and you got everything you needed! & please remember to like/reblog!

#pick a card #tarotblr #tarotcommunity #pick a picture #pick a pile #tarot reading #pick a reading #pick a pic #pick an image #pick a photo #pick a deck #capricorn #capricorn season

[gingiesworld]

Obsessions (4/?)

Wanda Maximoff x Rogers Fem Reader

Warnings: Angst. Smut.

Taglist: @sytoran @ginnsbaker @lifespectator @gb12d @natashamaximoff-69 @wizardofstories

18+ MINORS DNI

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 5 / Part 6

Y/N

I know this is completely stupid of me to write this apology instead of saying it to your face, but I hate who I am, who I've become. I broke my promise to you, many promises, silent and spoken. Hell, I don't even know who I am anymore. I have become someone who I don't even recognise because I wanted to be a part of the in crowd. I guess I was lying to myself and everyone and you especially.

I love you Y/N. I guess on some level I have always known about my feelings for you and I was scared. I didn't know how everyone would see me so I guess I projected my insecurities onto you and I can't say sorry enough. But I guess this is a start, along with leaving NYU. I don't know what I will do, but I just want to leave you be. I guess maybe one day we can be friends again. Just maybe.

Wanda Maximoff

Y/N read over the words on the page over and over again, she couldn't believe that Wanda was too much of a coward to not 9apologise face to face. So Y/N decided to march over to the Maximoff residence, knocking abruptly. Only waiting a brief moment until Wanda opened the door.

"Why?" Y/N questioned as she held the letter in her hand. "Why couldn't you just say all of that to my face?"

"I was ashamed." Wanda answered her weakly. "I abandoned you and I am still ashamed of all of the pain and hurt I have caused."

"I don't want your self pity Wanda." Y/N sneered as they pushed her up against the wall, Wanda held in a sigh at the close proximity. "I am done with this whole facade, if you loved me like you wrote, you wouldn't have made my life a living hell in high school."

"I know." She whispered, guilt and disappointment in her eyes as she closed them slightly. Allowing a sigh to escape her as Y/N rested their head on hers.

"I needed my friend Wanda. My best friend and she abandoned me when I needed her the most." Y/N whispered as her nose brushed Wanda's. "I need you Wanda." Wanda sighed as she felt Y/N's hand on her hips. "Is it just you here?" Wanda only nodded before Y/N kissed her roughly. Her tongue pushing passed Wanda's lips, causing her to let out a shaky moan. Y/N had let go of the letter as they lifted Wanda up and led her to her bedroom. Ridding her of her clothes and leaving her bare and vulnerable.

"I am going to ruin you." Y/N snarled as she hovered over her, taking her ear between her teeth before she squeezed Wanda's breast harshly, pinching and pulling at her nipple as she sucked and bit the other. Wanda's moans filled the room as Y/N soon slammed her fingers into Wanda's gaping hole. She let out a loud whimper as Y/N thrusted at a fast pace, Wanda's hands gripping the sheets tightly as she could feel herself reaching the edge.

"Why?" She whined when Y/N pulled her fingers away.

"Have you cum since the last time I edged you?" Y/N questioned as Wanda shook her head.

"Nothing could do it for me." Wanda admitted breathlessly. "No one else could do it for me."

"Beg for it." Y/N sneered as Wanda looked to the side. "Beg to cum." Y/N gripped Wanda's jaw, forcing her to look at her. "Beg."

"Please. I need it. I need you Y/N." Wanda pleaded as Y/N smirked, her other finger brushing along the inside of her thigh. "Please make me cum. Please."

Wanda was soon unexpectedly full as Y/N slammed three fingers in her soaked and aching core. Her body arching as Y/N added another finger, curling her fingers and grazing her g spot.

"Cum." Y/N ordered before Wanda fell over the edge, squirting all over her bed as Y/N kept on rubbing her clit. Mesmerised by the face of euphoric pleasure on Wanda's face.

That was the start of it, Y/N would take Wanda in the restroom at the diner, her own bed, even as her family was home. Y/N was driving around in her car when she came across Wanda who was walking home.

"Get in." Y/N told her as she pulled up beside her, Wanda had done as she was told and got in the passenger seat. Watching as Y/N drove in silence. Harshly squeezing Wanda's thigh as she drove to the overlook, the place where everyone goes to have sex or get high.

"Why are we here?" Wanda questioned as Y/N undone her leather jacket.

"Strip." Y/N ordered her as she removed her own clothes. Wanda moaned as she felt Y/N's hand between her bare thighs, their clothes scattered along the backseat as Wanda rode Y/N.

"I need more." Wanda whimpered as Y/N smirked.

"Work for it." Y/N sneered as she moved forward to bite her nipple, causing Wanda to inhale sharply. "Make yourself cum all over my cock." Wanda whimpered as Y/N's hands snaked her waist, subconsciously helping her movements.

"Fuck." Wanda bit her lip harshly as Y/N met her thrusts, enjoying the view of Wanda's breasts bouncing up and down as she reached her own high. Collapsing on Y/N who was fast enough to move her from their lap and back into the passenger seat. Wanda watched as Y/N got dressed again before handing Wanda her own clothes.

"What does this mean for us?" Wanda questioned as Y/N sucked in air through her teeth as she started the car.

"It means nothing to us." Y/N told her firmly. "There is no us."

"I'm seeing a therapist." Wanda told her confidently. "I'm trying to get myself better for you. For us."

"It's too fucking late Wanda!!" Y/N yelled as they remained at the overlook. "You abandoned me. You made my life hell. You left me to be the popular girl you have always craved to be. Wanting to hang with the fakes and the jocks while I was the one who made you feel welcome when you moved here."

"I'm sorry." Wanda whispered as Y/N started to drive.

"It's too little too late now Wanda." Y/N spat as she drove her home, the rest of the journey was spent in silence before Y/N had pulled up. "Go home Wanda. It's done. Whatever this is."

Wanda only nodded as she left the car, heading inside as her eyes stung with unshed tears. As the weeks went by, she noticed that Peggy was packing up the house, Y/N was helping with moving her own things into the Impala as Peggy had a sad look on her face. That was the last she saw of Y/N and Peggy in person. Only hearing from her mom that Peggy had moved back to England. Which left Y/N to move into her own apartment, only 30 minutes away from NYU.

Wanda found herself following Y/N on instagram, making a fake account as she looked at most of the pictures Y/N had posted. A lot of them seemed to be pictures of her art work, but one that really played on Wanda's heart strings, was Y/N and Christine Palmer, kissing as Y/N wrapped her arms around the red heads waist. The caption below reads, '6 month anniversary. I couldn't be happier and I can't wait to spend many more months and years with you.'

Wanda's heart broke, looking through other pictures of the two, seeing them smile lovingly at each other. Even a selfie as the two lay in bed, the covers only covering just above their bare chests.

Wanda knew in that moment that she had lost her chance with Y/N, but she refused to let her go.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #marvel #elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x you #natasha romanoff

[isaut]

𝒃𝒆𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒅— diluc x fem!reader. 2.1k. ao3

yours and diluc's love has captured the hearts of teyvat, thanks to the steambird and the kamera. in my head this takes place in another fic im working on so the reader only has one arm.

You marry in a simple gown of silk. There’s enough heft of the silk, as it spills around your arms and babbles down your body like a brook, spilling onto the floor, to show off its price. Your flowers drip from the bouquet in your hands– They drip, not droop. Cecilias and lilies, nothing more than an extension of your beauty. 

Your ladyship, the official bits of it, are donned with a strong kiss. One where Diluc has his hand on your lower back and the other on the side of your face– the side that isn’t being photographed. 

Three photos come from the wedding: One of you walking down the aisle: cobblestones lining outside the winery. Lined by simple flowers, a small party gathered to witness. Two, of the kiss. Swooped, leg slightly lifted, completely and contently at Diluc’s mercy. Three, of your head tossed back in laughter and Diluc’s warm gaze trained intently on you, a fond expression on his face. 

It’s later that month when Mona presents you with the newspaper. She had, after all, advised you on when the perfect day to get married would be. All for a hefty price, of course. But if luck couldn’t be bought, you could certainly try. The front page, however, is something like a gossip magazine. MARRIED FOR THE STARS. Step into the whimsical wedding of the century. 

And it’s those three photos. You hide your face behind the newspaper. 

“You know, you should be pleased. People pay thousands of mora for a chance to be right there,” Mona titters, crossing her arms. “You could at least act grateful.” 

“Oh, Mona… We didn’t need a cover page. We didn’t even need it to be broadcasted!” You protest, though there’s a girlish fluttering in your chest. 

“It’s not like anyone else of such caliber is getting married,” Mona huffs. “You should be honored!” 

Diluc is beet red when he sees the cover page. He hides himself behind his hands, fingers hiding under his fringe. “This is mortifying,” He bemoans. 

“I say Donna crying,” Kaeya says, with a shit eating grin and he looks over the front page, turning to page three for the full article. “Just absolutely inconsolable.” 

“Poor thing,” You hum, sufficiently less embarrassed since Diluc seemed to be embarrassed plenty for the both of you. “Maybe we should get it framed.” 

“Hang it up in Angel’s Share,” Kaeya agrees. “Right next to the collection of best wine awards. What do you think, Diluc?” 

“I don’t think it needs to be hung up,” Diluc says, muffled by his hands. 

“I’m going to hang it up,” Kaeya says. “I’ll get a fresh copy from Mona, so you can hold onto this one. Has Adelinde seen it yet?” 

“Yes,” Diluc says, still muffled. 

“I think everyone’s seen it,” You chime in, grinning as you reach over to tuck a strand of Diluc’s hair behind his ear. His face is certainly warm. 

It’s to no surprise that the weddings that follow for the next few years are inspired by the nation of love. That there’s thousands of attempts to grab the same photos, but none of them have the same candidness to that first kiss you shared with Diluc as husband and wife. None of the dresses have the same water-like texture, none of the flowers are fresh in the same way. 

It could be said for money. But the wind was a perfect whisper, rippling through your gown and your hair, keeping Diluc’s hair out of his face. Rumor was that the Anemo Archon favored the Ragnvindr’s love so greatly he made a personal appearance. 

When you’re invited to Fontaine– When Diluc is invited to Fontaine for a wine festival, he grumbles about it. About the journey, about how he has to leave home for months on end. Even though you’re coming with him, he still grumbles. He’s fond of his manor, he’s fond of the way that you’ve bled into every aspect of it. Brightening it with light colors and gauzy curtains, fresh-scented candles. 

He grumbles less, because you’re so excited to go. You’ve listened to your tailor speak for hours about how beautiful the land of water is, about how the art is so rich and the food richer. You’ve listened to nearly every ballet and every opera on the gramophone. And your tailor has treated you so well, to fashions typical and atypical of the nation. 

(His business had boomed too, after the wedding dress. However, he saved his best work for the Ragnvindrs. He’d be lying if he wasn’t hoping to make another splash in his hometown.) 

Fontaine treats the Ragnvindrs kindly. They have first class tours, with nearly everything included. A villa instead of a hotel room. Nightly escapades to the finest shows Fontaine has to offer. For your first journey to the Opera, you’re buzzing with excitement. 

The gown that’s been made for you in warm blue, with shimmers and hugs your figure. It’s a far cry from the simple dresses you wear back home: modest and breathable. With this one, you wrap a shawl around your shoulders and stand in front of the mirror, doing last minute adjustments. 

Diluc is too filled with energy to sit still for so long, focused on just one thing. He hides it well, and age has slowed him down considerably from when he was nothing but a young firecracker. He’s just gotten better at hiding it. At least, he’ll do it for you. He comes up behind you, resting a hand on your hip. The accents on his suit complement your dress, his hair pulled back in a bow of the same fabric. 

He leans forward to press a kiss to the top of your shoulder, hand sliding to rest securely over your stomach. His other trails down your arm to hold your hand, gently adjusting your engagement ring, which glints in the lamplight. 

“Do everything with this hand,” Diluc says, hunched over so his cheek can rest on your shoulder, facing towards your neck. Here, he has perfect access to the scent of your perfume. 

“I don’t think anyone is mistaking me as single,” You reply. Not when the lovable oaf of your husband is draped over you. Not when he stands so close to you the two of you might as well wear the same concoction of perfume and cologne. 

Diluc hums and straightens up. 

“Well. Let me escort you, my lady,” Diluc says, giving a slight bow. 

You respond with a beaming smile and a small curtsey. 

Diluc captures your lips in a kiss, pulling away with furrowed brows. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask. 

“You’re just too beautiful,” Diluc replies. 

This time, the newspaper comes much faster. You’re on page three, under a fashion column. MONDSTAT’S PRINCE CHARMING AND CINDERELLA. The article speaks of how such patrons of the arts were so much more patrons of each other, madly in love by gaze alone. 

You’re whisked away to the gala: the actual event you’ve come for. The finest gown is for that night: off the shoulder with large sleeves, tailored and glittering, beaded details accentuated by the diamonds around your neck. There’s a frown on Diluc’s face as he gets ready, does up his buttons and does up his tie. 

When prompted on what soured his mood, he simply replies: “I don’t want to socialize.” 

You laugh, tinkling bells through the room. 

“What?” Diluc asks. “They like you so much more than they like me.” 

“Oh, but you’re the one they want to talk to,” You say, coming over to him. You smooth your hand over his lapel. “I think they just like looking at me.” 

“They should talk to you instead,” Diluc replies. “You’re so much more interesting than I am.” 

“And share me with the world?” You tilt your head. 

“Oh, good point.” Diluc slides his hand back around your waist. The dress truly is something to marvel. Such a marriage of Fontaine’s couture and Mondstadt's simplicity. Diluc’s gaze can’t leave your waist, can’t leave your chest. “Good point.” 

The Steambird gets a quip from you that night, a bright eyed, pink haired girl with a camera approaches you and Diluc, begging for a photo. She has many questions, and expresses such to you, but will only ask you for one. And to forgive her because it’s not wine related. (“Good,” Diluc had said, mostly to himself and you, “I’ve spoken enough about wine.” Charlotte had beamed at that.) 

“Everyone’s been calling you Teyvat’s true fairytale,” She says, recording device poised. “Do you have any advice for those of us trying to find our own fairytale?” 

You laugh, and look up at Diluc, placing a hand on his chest. In turn, his hand sits dutifully at your lower back. He looks down at you, a fond expression on his face. 

“I don’t think there’s a script to it,” You say, tearing your gaze away from Diluc. “I think it just happens.” 

“You can’t be looking for it,” Diluc adds on, his gaze never leaving you. 

RECIPE FOR A FAIRYTALE

A Mondstadt love story is not unheard of. If anything, it has permeated our childhoods, with so many famous tales coming from the land of romance. Growing up, these tales of princes and princesses, who find true love after a fearsome trial of strength, bravery and wit seem so out of reach, as if they linger as stories painted in constellations. Gorgeous to gaze at, charming to consume, delightful to dream about. 

There must be something in the Mondstadt air, whether it be the scent of windwheel asters or the Anemo Archon’s own blessing, given that Teyvat’s own fairytale hails from the tranquil nation. That Ragnvindrs won the hearts of Teyvat when they got married. Sources at the time revealed photos of the event, two lovers intertwined in their own world, speckled by the sunlight filtering through the translucent clouds in the sky. Their vows promised a lifetime of never-ending love, and their kiss was sealed with a warm brush of wind. 

Their love has not run dry. Tonight, at the Festin de Boire, Diluc Ragnvindr and his lady, Ophelia, continue their tour of Fontaine. Dressed by Fontaine’s own Herbert Agustin, the two are fit for on-stage royalty. Diluc’s suit is finely tailored, a warm, dark brown that highlights his cabernet eyes and acts as logs on a hearth for his flaming mane. Tonight, it’s tamed by a ribbon the same shade as his wife’s gown. A stunning, off the shoulder champagne piece with sleeves that billow out and come together around the wrist, embroidered by pearls. Tonally, it matches the bubbling drinks in their hands. It would be remiss to not discuss the stunning set of diamonds that sprawled across her collarbone in long droplets. 

The banquet attendees are just as smitten with the Ragnvindrs as I am. Witnessing the attentiveness of Diluc and the grace of Ophelia, it’s hard to not raise my own crumbling standards when it comes to a partner. Not once did I see his hand leave her waist, lower back or cheek for longer than a few breaths. 

When I spoke with them for a brief moment, it was like gazing into a snowglobe, where a prince and princess stand, eternally in love. Accentuated by the quartet playing, the two of them struggled to pull their gazes away from each other. Truth be told, the two looked so stunning up close, I struggled to pull my own gaze away. 

I asked our lovers the question on all of our minds, one that circulates my own to no end. Do they have any advice on how we can find our own fairytale? 

Ophelia rested her hand on his broad chest, a smile on her face. Diluc’s hand curved around her waist, resting on the bottom of her bodice before the dress expanded into its fullness. It is easy to imagine them back at their winery, standing in their garden in the same position. The same love painted on their faces, only with crystal flies circling about them instead of servers carrying plates of hor d'oeuvres and glasses of wines. 

“I don’t think there’s a script to it,” Ophelia told me, though her words floated up in the direction of her husband. She further confirmed: “I think it just happens.” 

Diluc, who had told me he was glad for the opportunity to discuss matters other than wine (and, if I must make my own conclusions, was euphoric to discuss his wife), added the big secret: “You can’t be looking for it.” 

To think that such a cherished romance simply fell into their laps is almost astonishing. To see such a fairytale, to learn that it came without slaying any dragons, that it fell like an autumn leaf or a ripe bulle fruit… It is the thing of dreams. And perhaps a reminder that the best things in life come to us when we aren’t looking. 

#diluc x reader #by ophelia #kiss kiss

[pink-amethyst-tarot]

♡ YOUR NEXT SIGNIFICANT RELATIONSHIP ♡

P I L E 1 ~ P I L E 2 ~ P I L E 3

This PAP reading is the winner from a poll that I previously posted a week ago! Follow me for more PAP readings and polls so that you can help me decide what readings I do next!

take a deep breath and pick the pile that you feel most drawn to.

♡ p i l e 1 ♡

Ace of Wands, Queen of Pentacles, King of Cups, Knight of wands

Bottom of the Deck: Eight of Swords (Reversed)

"You are a badass being, full of life, love and possibilities. Through this deck, may you find a path to your best self." -Lisa Sterle, Modern Witch Tarot Deck

The first thing I heard, was something along the lines of, "you set me free". The writing is kind of on the tin with this one, but I feel like you have liberated this person in some way, shape or form.

This is a new person who is going to come into your life when you are the most secure in yourself and when you are at peace with yourself. If you have been trying to manifest someone who is kind, caring, loyal, faithful etc., this is who is coming your way. You will be each other's peace. Even if it feels like the whole world is against you, you know that your person is there by your side. I'm sensing that Pile 1 have had to deal with a lot of B.S. as far as romance goes; giving your heart fully, only to have it stomped on repeatedly. The person that is coming in for your next significant relationship, is coming in like a knight on a white horse. This person is such a flirt, and they want to make you feel wanted and special all the time. I feel like it's their goal to always make you feel sexy and good in general.

This might be a bit niche as far as this pile goes, but I feel that pile 1 has met this person and maybe even had a fling with this because I'm hearing, "I don't want to kiss anyone else; no one feels like you."

Thank you so much for participating in this pick a pile reading; if you want a more personal reading, you can see this post and you can see this post if you would like to see more about my Alice In Wonderland Sale.

If you would like to leave a tip, you can on CashApp ($oddlycozycottage), PayPal (@/oddlycozycottage), or Ko-fi (@/oddlycozycottage)

♡ p i l e 2 ♡

The Sun (Reversed), Page of Swords, King of Pentacles, Two of Wands

Before even pulling your cards, Pile 2, I just felt a wave of calm wash over me. It kind of felt like, "finally." Either, finally, you see me or finally you're here.

I'm also hearing that this isn't a case of confirmation bias. I can't confirm or deny if that's true for you, only you can. listen to your intuition/gut/heart, whatever you want to call it.

Getting into the cards, I feel that with Pile Three, there is distance between you and your person and a lot of you even know this person. You may not be together right now mainly because the distance is too much for the both of you but it makes you both really unhappy. The two are going to come together because you can't take being apart and not in a relationship anymore. There will be travel and for some of you, it will be a case of choosing this person or another path. It could be related to your career or choosing another person. The main thing right now, is to be patient. Everything will happen when it's supposed to happen, how it's supposed to happen. Taking your time and letting the chips fall where they may will be rewarded. You will be with your person.

Channeled Song: Long Distance by Brandy

I wish that you were here with me // but we're stuck where we are // It's so hard // so far //

Thank you so much for participating in this pick a pile reading; if you want a more personal reading, you can see this post and you can see this post if you would like to see more about my Alice In Wonderland Sale.

If you would like to leave a tip, you can on CashApp ($oddlycozycottage), PayPal (@/oddlycozycottage), or Ko-fi (@/oddlycozycottage)

♡ p i l e 3 ♡

Seven of Cups (Reversed), Five of Swords, Eight of Cups, Six of Wands

"You are a badass being, full of life, love and possibilities. Through this deck, may you find a path to your best self". - Lisa Sterle, Modern Witch Tarot Deck

I feel so out of my element all of a sudden; like I don't know what I'm doing even though I've done two other piles before this one and have done other PAP readings before and that may be something that you can relate to. You may feel out of your element or alien to something that you are usually so familiar with.

Don't shoot the messenger but, what I'm seeing is that you need to accept change before you can even worry about your next significant relationship. Learning to let go and when to walk away are things that Spirit is asking of you. In a way, they are saying that your next significant relationship needs to be with yourself. Your head is too wrapped up in all the things that you do wrong, you don't focus enough on all the things that you do right. You don't see how amazing and beautiful you are. You don't see yourself as worthy enough for love. You don't see your value and all of the wonderful things that you deserve. At this time, it should only be about you and your happiness. That doesn't mean to neglect your responsibilities, but it does mean that you matter, too, especially in your own life. It doesn't matter if your person comes in and tells you how amazing and beautiful, they believe you are if you don't even believe it. You are a masterpiece in progress but a masterpiece, still. You are so magical, and you have to take the time so that you can believe that and know that in your own heart. You should not rely on others to validate that for you. You should already know it and when someone else says it, it's seen as a plus or a bonus.

Channeled Song: Anklebiters by Paramore

Fall in love with yourself // oh, again // fall in love with yourself // Because // Someday you're gonna be the only one you got // Someday you're gonna be the only one you got // Why you wanna please the world to let yourself drop dead? // Someday you're gonna be the only one you got //

Channeled Song: Last Hope by Paramore

It's just a spark // But, it's enough/ to keep me going // and when it's dark out // noone's around // And it keeps going //

Thank you so much for participating in this pick a pile reading; if you want a more personal reading, you can see this post and you can see this post if you would like to see more about my Alice In Wonderland Sale.

If you would like to leave a tip, you can on CashApp ($oddlycozycottage), PayPal (@/oddlycozycottage), or Ko-fi (@/oddlycozycottage)

LEGAL DISCLAIMER: FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY. THESE READINGS ARE FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY. no guarantees are implied. These readings are not a substitute or replacement for any professional help or services. My readings are not a substitute for any form of professional legal, medical/psychiatric, relationship, religious/spiritual or financial/ business advice nor consultations. You should always see a professional legal/trained adviser for help in any matter. I am not responsible for any decisions/ actions you take.

#pink amethyst #pink amethyst tarot #tarot #tarot community #tarot reading #free tarot reading #tarotblr #collective message #collective reading #free tarot #spirituality #divination #tarot cards #tarot deck #tarotcommunity #pick a card #pick a pile #pick a picture #pick a photo #pick an image #pac #pap #pac reading #pap reading #212 #222 #777 #111 #555 #999

[numinously-yours]

Pick a pile: Where will you be in 3, 6, and 12 months?

Looking back at my poll from a couple of weeks ago, there were three topics tied for second place. One of them is this one: Where will you be in 3, 6, and 12 months?

For this reading, I looked at your current energy. If you're not sure which pile is for you, please feel free to read that part first! Then, I went through and provided insight on where you'll be/what you'll be focused on at the 3-month, 6-month, and 12-month increments of the next year. The write ups are a bit longer than usual, so I apologize in advance for pile 3 & 4 for having to scroll a bit longer lol

Current Energy: The Moon

At this current time, it feels like you are in an energy of “almost”. You have something in your mind that you think makes a good idea/proposal. Your gut tells you that you should go for it, but your anxiety is holding you back from taking the leap. You may be remembering a time in the past where you went for something big and it didn’t work out. You’re worried this may happen again and you don’t want to set yourself up for disappointment.

3 – Page of swords, Knight of cups

In three months time, you’re going to be on an enthusiastic, creative, and passionate adventure. There is something you are hoping to share with the world! In the months leading up to this, new ideas are going to be brewing. How can you best share your passion with others? What is a fun and new way to present your idea? Continue brainstorming these ideas and you’ll have a good basis of where to start when the time comes.

6 – Eight of wands

After a few more months of getting your idea up and running (6 mo. total) , you are really going to see movement and action. There may have been a few bumps along the way as you perfected the execution of your ideas above, but things seem to be smoothing out. I think that around this time, you’ll have a really solid foundation of where you want this project to go. As you see the rewards of your work, you may even want to begin expanding.

12 – Four of wands, Wheel of fortune

Finally, a year from now, you’re going to feel really fulfilled. What I love is that the wheel of fortune came up in this time frame specifically. The Wheel is about karma and life cycles – it makes me think that at this time next year you’re really going to feel like you’ve come full circle in whatever project you’ve just taken on. The four of wands is all about celebration, harmony, and relaxation. An amazing and overwhelming sense of “I did it!” is definitely coming through here. Congratulations on whatever you’re up to, pile 1. It’s going to be amazing 😊

Current energy - Knight of pentacles rev. and Seven of cups rev.

You are feeling a bit overwhelmed right now. Based on the cards that came out for your timeline, I think it likely has to do with your social circle/relationships. Maybe you’re the foundation of the group and you’re starting to become tired of being everyone’s support (like, actual exhaustion, not just “sick of it”) or you feel like you’re the one who is continually left out. You are trying to figure out what to do about it but feel stuck. I also can’t stop thinking that some of you are students – either graduating HS this year and starting college in the Fall, transferring schools, or starting a new career closely after graduation. This might not be all of you, but I was called to make that note.

3 – Three of cups reversed

You’re going to venture on your own pretty soon here, number two. Where the three of cups upright is about community, celebrating with friends, etc., the reversal indicates that you need some alone time. It’s okay if you don’t feel like you’re really clicking with your people anymore. Even though it can suck, you must do what is best for you. And I think that means seeing who you are, without the influence of others. There is a small indication of overindulgence, specifically when it comes to lifestyle changes. While it’s important to find yourself, please remember to do it smartly and healthily.

6 – Six of cups, page of cups

Taking the time to find yourself is going to bring you to your six-month point. At this point in time, I think you’re going to have a pretty good idea of who “you” are. You’re going to be more in tune with your intuition & higher self. You have a clearer idea of the future – or at least you are getting more and more comfortable with the unknown. Taking this time for yourself was really important and I’m happy that you’re going to do it. It is going to teach you the beauty of curiosity, it’s going to remind you that your inner child is still within you and deserves fun, and it’s going to teach you that the past is the past and the only way forward is continuing to move ahead.

12 – Ten of coins, The Devil

The main message from these two cards comes from the ten of coins. This next year is going to teach you SO much about yourself. At this time next year, you’ll look back feel like your personal journey was absolutely worth it. You feel more abundant and much more confident that your future ahead is bright. The Devil, I think, is here as another reminder to not get ahead of yourself or start to feel conceited because of your journey. You may feel tempted to rub your success in the faces of that social circle you left, but that is not going to be beneficial to you. Let your success make YOU happy. You can absolutely share the success, but not as a way to shame the others who had previously let you down.

Current Energy – The Emperor and Playday rev.

Playday is a specific card to this deck and, for some reason, there’s not any info on what the card was meant to represent. But hey, that’s all part of the tarot reading process! Since it came into reverse, my initial thought is that you haven’t had many opportunities to have playday. I asked the deck for a standard tarot card to clarify and the Emperor came out at that time. In your current energy, you feel an obligation to take of others and be a foundation for them. Some of you are likely parents or caretakers. Others feel like you have to be “the strong one”. In your eyes, there is no time for play because there is too much to be done and there are too many people who need you.

3 – Three of coins rev., Five of cups

I think it’s been your goal for some time to focus on self-care. And I think that you’re going to continue to try for the next three months. There is this sense that you wish others would take care of you for once, but you’re “stuck” taking care of yourself AND trying to take care of them at the same time. You wonder why you have to be on the journey of self-care alone. You might get to this three-month period and wonder what the point of self-care is if you don’t even feel better.  I’m here to remind you that ANY progress in taking care of yourself is good progress! The fact that you are THINKING about how you deserve to be taken care of is a good thing! It means you know your worth. Unfortunately, I don’t think the three-month period is going to make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside but!! (see your six-month overview for more)

6 – The Chariot

Although the road to self-care has been HARD, you really WILL feel your rewards soon. By the six-month period, you’re going to feel some success. You’ll see that you have the willpower to take care of yourself instead of dropping everything to help everyone else, you’ll have the determination to hold your boundaries, and you’ll have the strength to remember that it only gets better from here. Boundary setting is coming out the strongest as the thing you’ll progress with the most. There will be tests that challenge this and sometimes the boundaries will come down, but you will more consistently BELIEVE you deserve the boundaries. It’s going to be an empowering time for you, group three! I’m just sorry it has to be the six month check point lol

12 – Five of swords rev., Ace of swords, Eight of swords (clarified by Sunrise, also a deck specific card!)

At this time next year, you’re going to be so proud of yourself. This makes my heart happy <3 There are still some times where people challenge your boundaries and try to take advantage of your genuine heart, but you’re finally at a point where you feel confident saying no. If/when this happens, you’ll reflect over this past year and see how far you’ve come. This will remind you of all of the hard work you did to get here and that it is not worth going back to feeling the way you did before (aka right now). You can ABSOLUTELY still be a person who provides a solid foundation for others, but not at the expense of yourself. Your mental state is going to feel soo much more clear. Each day you’ll realize something new about yourself, your needs, and how YOU can help yourself get there. This is really going to be a turning point in your mindset. AH I’m just so excited for you! Finally, with the eight of swords – I wanted to pull a clarifier because the eight usually represents negativity and victim mentality. I don’t think this will be your energy in a year. So, I pulled the Sunrise card. I think it’s AWESOME that you got 2/3 unique cards from this deck. This card is different than the Sun card, though, in my interpretation, it has a lot of the same energy. In the times that you feel guilty for setting your boundaries or taking care of yourself first, there will be a sunrise in the back of your mind. You will see the light of the rays and the warmth of this bright star. It will be a reminder that the sun always rises and it doesn’t mean you’re reverting back to your old tendencies to forget your own needs.

12 month column is ace of wands & moonlight ; apologies for the hard to read text. in retrospect, I shouldn't have picked that photo background.

Current energy: The Devil reversed.

Right now, you are going through a personal transformation. I bet there is a sense of unknown and you’re a bit resistant to that (consciously or not). The future is scary and not being able to plan for it doesn’t help the anxiety. However, you understand the importance of your transformation and are trying your best to optimistic of the outcome.

3 – The Hierophant, Temperance, and Four of cups

In three months, it looks like you’ll still be on the journey of self-discovery, but you’ll be a little more patient with not knowing. In the time leading up to this three-month mark, you’ll discover tools that help you remain present. You’ll do a lot of introspection which will allow you to feel more comfortable about still being in land of the unknown. Around the three-month mark, you’ll redirect your thoughts to a different pathway than you’re currently thinking. The four of cups represents meditation and re-evaluation of your situation. You may have a moment of panic feeling like you have to start over AGAIN, but the tools you’ve learned were meant to be learned so you could get through this. You KNOW you’re not starting over because you have new insights that weren’t even in your reality three months ago (aka now). You may start delving more into spirituality to help you on your journey. This could include going to church more often, researching new religions, picking up tarot, or simply continuing meditation to get a bigger understanding of the world around you.  

6 – The Sun

By six months, you’re going to feel like the sun won’t stop shining. Even on the coldest days, you feel the warmth of the sun because you know you have a purpose. In the time between three months & six months, you’re going to figure something out. Something is going to click and it is going to propel you to work on something great. You’ll feel revitalized, group four, and I think it’s a feeling you’ve been looking for for awhile now.  You’re going to inspire others with your newfound light. You’re going to feel confident expressing yourself (beliefs, needs, ideas, etc.). I’m really happy for you!

12 – Ace of wands, Moonlight (specific to this deck; different from The Moon)

This time next year will truly feel like a new beginning. The sun has set on this particular part of your journey and the moon is coming out to light the next path. While the moonlight is less bright than the sunlight, I think this card is here to represent that, no matter day or night, the universe is here to provide some light even in the darkness. As you look ahead to new opportunities, the unknown doesn’t scare you as much. You know the sun will always rise again and provide you clarity on your path. And you know based on this journey that you’ll always feel the sun’s warmth, no matter what part of the journey you’re on.

#tarot #free reading #tarot reading #tarot cards #pick a card #manifestation #transformation #your future #don't forget that free will is always there!

[echo-bleu]

Disability pride request? Two characters of your choice hanging out, maybe one using two forearm crutches and one using two canes. They can be friends or partners - I just generally love seeing disabled characters interactng with one another!

How about three disabled characters?

Once upon a time @camille-lachenille sent me a prompt about Míriel having Ehler-Danlos Syndrome. I had already sketched a disabled Celegorm with EDS in mind and, thinking about how it's genetic, had an epiphany about Celebrimbor (and the meaning of his name) and I drew him as well. So I wrote a fic about all three of them dealing with chronic pain, but I still hadn't drawn Míriel. That oversight is now fixed!

They have more in common than just chronic illness xD.

This is still titled "The EDS gang" in my files, I'm going to stick to it. Set sometime in Fourth Age Valinor, when most things are good again...

Disabled Tolkien characters series

(Feel free to send me more disability prompts! I love drawing them.)

More ramblings about disability aids that devolved into bullet-point headcanons under the cut. ID and transcription at the end, but they're also in alt text.

[CW: this is all fairly light but discussion of death and trauma and you know, everything that comes with these three.]

I do not know how to make comics. I'm sure that's very obvious but, you know, learning new things and all that. One thing I learned was that my usual style of rendering does not work with it as well so I rendered them entirely twice.

It was meant to be day 21 and 22 of my October challenge, because surely I can draw and colour a full page in a day (spoilers: no). In the end it was a combined 15 hours of work over 3 and a half days because I made it as complicated as I possibly could 😭 Still, I had fun and learned a lot.

Note: Ehlers-Danlos syndrome is a connective tissue disorder, affecting basically how your cells are glued together. There are a lot of different symptoms (and different types of EDS) but a frequent one is joint pain and hypermobility, and it's at least partly inherited.

Míriel:

Red was Míriel's colour first. She's not into gaudy things and rarely wears vivid colours, but almost always something red. She barely wears any jewellery since reembodiment, mostly for sensory reason (She is very autistic. That's something she gave Fëanor, Curufin, Caranthir, Ambarussa and Celebrimbor, at least.)

She died of post-partum (and general) depression and energy depletion from childbirth or something, but the chronic illness that was taking all of her energy and keeping her from her craft certainly didn't help.

Also pregnancy was horribly rough on her, partly because EDS can be affected by hormonal changes.

She's actually been better since reembodiment, because she has better accommodations (Finwë did his best but he was very lost) and also a Vala on hand who makes her very good painkilling tea.

She wears knitted compression gloves that she designed to help with hand pains.

Her wheelchair is of Noldor make, but I'm sure Celebrimbor will have suggestions for improving it.

The tapestry that she is weaving is actually this painting of Finrod that I did a while ago. I figure that she's representing calmer, nicer things now that she doesn't have to weave her grandchildren's downfall and deaths.

Celegorm:

He was in a relationship with Oromë before the Exile. After his reembodiment, it took them a while by they talked it out and forgave each other. Oromë doesn't quite get elves, but he's really supportive.

He has a pair of wolf-head canes carved by Nerdanel. He alternatively uses both, just one and sometimes none depending on activity/pain level.

He wears bandages as compression garments because this is a world without elastane. His leggings have reinforced knees for support.

He's always heard about Míriel having the same thing as he does from Finwë, and he knew that when he started showing symptoms, Fëanor was terrified that he'd fade too. So for a long time, Míriel's story was kind of hanging above his head.

That's why it takes him a while to go seek her out after he's reembodied. Celebrimbor understands why it's important to him and he pushed him to it a little bit, so Celegorm dragged him along.

They're going to get along great. Míriel is both the quintessential grandmother and also she has a twisted sense of humour that Celegorm will just love.

Celebrimbor:

Celegorm was always his favourite uncle, and they became very close when Celebrimbor started having symptoms in the early years in Exile, and Celegorm stayed with Curufin in Himlad for him.

It took Celebrimbor a while to forgive him after Returning (not as long as Curufin but still) but they've gone back to being really close.

He was really unlucky with reembodiment: while he wasn't reborn with the physical aspect of his torture, the memory of pain and the trauma made his chronic pain a lot worse than it was before, and he can no longer walk unaided.

He designed the silver ring and wrist splints back in Eregion with Narvi's help, and ended up literally living up to his name (which means "silver fist/grasping hand").

Paradoxically these were a great motivation for him to work through his trauma and go back to the forge, because he couldn't find a silversmith in Valinor who could make good enough ones for him, even with all of his sketches and specifications.

A lot of his work since reembodiment has been designing and making disability aids for people.

He uses platform crutches to spare his hands as much as possible. He invented and designed them, of course, as well as the KAFO brace that he wears here. He's also a part-time wheelchair user.

He is still wearing dwarven beads in his hair. He obviously didn't bring anything back from Middle-Earth but he asked Gimli to make them for him in remembrance of Narvi. His tunic is also dwarven-inspired.

He is pretty chill about Sauron here. I don't know if there was a redemption (I have feelings about @chthonion's The Harrowing and @mynameisjessejk's Otter Mayhem) or if he's just been through enough elf-therapy to be able to joke about it. Celegorm's sense of humour is just Like That.

Celegorm and Celebrimbor are about to try Vairë's special painkilling tea for the first time 👀

Between all of them they should really open a disability aids shop or something. They just might! Míriel doesn't really ever leave Vairë's house but I think Celegorm and Celebrimbor will keep visiting her a lot, and eventually all of the grandkids will as well.

Image description and transcriptions:

Two digital comic book pages.

Image 1: The first case takes the whole width, showing two pairs of feet with each two canes/crutches on a tiled floor, with a speech bubble saying "Do you think she'll want to see us?"

The second line has two cases in 2/3 and 1/3 format. The first shows two hands in red fingerless gloves working on a tapestry on a loom. The second shows part of a light-skinned face in profile, with curly white hair. Three speech bubbles say "My love?" "Um?" "There are people here asking for you."

The bottom part has one case off-center showing the same hand undoing the brake of a wheelchair, with a speech bubble saying "Your grandson and your great-grandson." above and one saying "I'll be right here." below. Then a full-length off-case portrait of Miríel, a light-skinned elf with shoulder-length curly white sitting in a wheelchair and pushing herself. She's wearing a pale pink embroidered dress with red accents, red fingerless gloves and elbow pad and brown boots and smiling.

Image 2: A single large case shows two elves standing in a room with a tiled floor, with a large door and two tables behind them. There are thread spools on one table and a tea set on the other. One elf, Celebrimbor, is brown-skinned and slightly chubby, with long black hair in a braided bun, wearing a red tunic and dark green pants. He is leaning on two decorated platform combo crutches made of wood and metal, with a KAFO brace on his leg. He wears finger and hand silver splints. The other elf, Celegorm, is pale and has long white hair in a high ponytail with small braids, he has tattoos on his neck and arms and he wears bandages on his shoulders, elbows and wrist. He wears a green tunic, leggings and wrap-around gaiters. He is leaning on a cane and holding up another cane, pointing at the first elf. Both canes have handles carved in the shape of wolf heads.

The speech bubbles are arranged around and below them, giving this dialogue, with the speakers distinguished by the shape of the bubble (the parts in parentheses are smaller text in the bubbles):

Celegorm: "My lady, my name is Tyelkormo, and this is my nephew Tyelpë." Miríel: "I know who you are, my wonderful children. Come sit." Celebrimbor: "That would be nice, thank you." Miríel: "Vairë, my love, would you make us some tea?" Celebrimbor: "My lady!" Celegorm: "A Vala who can make tea! (I could never get Oromë to do it.)" Miríel: "It was a long domestication process." Vairë (off screen): "Hey!" Celebrimbor: "Instant hot water! That’s nice. (I wonder if I could replicate that.)" Miríel: "She makes wonderful hot water bottles." Celegorm: "Oromë just uses his hands as hot pads." Celebrimbor: "Ew, I didn’t need to know that." Celegorm: "What? Just because your Maia burns everything he touches–" Celebrimbor: "Shut up." Miríel: "You must both tell me everything about yourself. And your partners!"

#miriel #celegorm #celebrimbor #tyelkormo #tyelpe #valinor #house of finwe #silmarillion #tolkien #silm #silm art #tolkien fanart #eds #ehlers danlos syndrome #disabled tolkien characters #disabled characters #beautiful art #echo's drawings #digital art #lotr #this took me soooo long please give it love #echo's october 2023

[peterman-spideyparker]

The Roommate and The Best Friend (College!Matt Murdock x College!Fem!Reader)

Author’s Note: Long time, no post, guys! I do apologize for going silent on the fic front--I’ve just been so tired lately, I haven’t had the motivation to really edit anything I’ve written. BUT, my sweet baby angels, this is the longest stand alone fic I’ve ever done! It also took forever to edit, lol. I really hope you guys enjoy! :)

Summary: You’ve been Foggy’s best friend since you two could walk. Matt’s been Foggy’s best friend since he moved in at Columbia. After three years at law school all together, you’re all as thick as thieves. When Foggy doesn’t show up one day to a study session, something blossoms between you and Matt that will change the ecosystem of your friendship trio forever.

Warnings: Fluff (friends to lovers, cuteness, cuddles, kisses), angst (shouting, friendship fights, hurt feelings), smut (p in v, protected sex, blowjob, handjob, being cute dorks when a matching set is involved), swearing

Other Characters: College!Foggy Nelson

Word Count: 8.081

“At what point do you think we can officially say Foggy isn’t coming?” you sigh, flipping the page in your notebook and highlighting what is written in accordance to your study system.

Matt lets out a breath through his nose as his fingers move to feel at the braille surface of his watch. “An hour ago?” he smirks, resuming his own work. 

“Eh, I guess I should have seen that coming.”

“How so?”

“All boys are the same when they start relationships, especially when they reengage the on-again. Knowing Foggy and Marci, they’re doing some weird sort of sex-study review game.” You shudder at the memory. “You’re lucky you’re blind, Matty. You can’t unsee that.”

“Trust me, I think it’s worse to only hear,” he chuckles. 

“Ew, don’t even remind me of the sound!”

Matt just laughs, his fingers sliding across the page.

“Hey, get back to studying, Chuckles,” you chastise, smiling big yourself as you move back to your notes. “Rule 24 of Federal Civil Procedure won’t learn itself.”

“Rule 24. Intervention. Intervention of Right: On a timely motion, the court must permit anyone to intervene who—.”

“Shut up,” you scoff playfully, hitting his shin underneath the table. “Show off.”

You go back and forth, quizzing one another on the rules of civil procedure in the unit, adjusting in the library chairs until you’re leaning shoulder to shoulder going over material, Matt having abandoned his braille textbooks to listen to you read to him.

“You have a really beautiful voice, you know that?” Matt hums, his voice dipping into a velvety timbre.

“You’re just lazy,” you chuckle as you tilt your head and gaze over at him. “Getting me to do all the work.”

“Delegating,” he attempts.

“Laziness,” you counter.

“You do better when do explain things. You’ve said so yourself. And I’m a great listener.”

You purse your lips and let out a little sigh. “I do do better when I talk out loud,” you admit.

“You also always find your answer when you do.”

“And I do like talking to you.”

“I rest my case,” he says with a satisfied smile.

“Asshole.”

You laugh in your little secluded spot in the library, your shoulders shaking against one another’s as you do. You tilt your head to face him, Matt doing the same thing at the same time, his dark rectangular glasses long abandoned, letting you look into the honey hazel galaxy of his irises. 

“Hey,” he whispers, his voice making a warmth spread all over your body.

“Hey yourself, Murdock,” you counter.

“You’re gonna be a really great lawyer, you know that?”

You feel yourself blush. If it’s from the sentiment of his words, the pitch that he says it, or your proximity, you’ll never know. Maybe it’s all three. You’re just glad he can’t see the full extent of how his words make you feel.

“Thanks, Matty. You’re gonna be great, too. I pity whoever will have to go against you in court.”

“You are so extraordinary, (Y/N),” he whispers, his thumb and forefinger taking ahold of your chin, the space between the two of you smaller than you remember.

“So are you,” you breathe.

“(Y/N), I—."

“I think we’re just getting tired,” you breathe as his lips hover centimeters from yours. 

“No, I think we’re picking up on something that’s been here for a bit,” he counters, his voice at such a low pitch it does things to the heart in your chest and the heart between your legs.

But this is Matt you’re talking about. He’s your friend. He’s Foggy’s friend, his roommate. Sure, people can bond with their roommates, but it was almost like something out of a buddy-comedy with what happened with those two, and it was instantaneous.

You shuffle and maneuver around everyone in the hallway, moving furniture and supplies into their homes for the next year as you track down the number that is your best friend’s new address.

“Alright, Foghorn, boxes have been unpacked, and liquor needs to be poured!” you call as you glide through the entryway, the door left ajar. When you enter, you don’t see anyone in sight. Did you get the wrong number? No, that’s not it: unless someone else has some interest in really niche bands and the same quilt his mother knit him for Christmas in undergrad, you’re definitely in the right place. The social butterfly of a teddy bear man probably bonding with his roommate or something.

Just as you flop down on what his definitely Foggy’s bed, you hear his laugh and the tapping of something growing closer to the dorm.

“ . . . and I said, ‘No, Mom and Dad. I love you guys, but I don’t want to be a butcher, I want to be a lawyer,” Foggy recalls his infamous butcher story, his words becoming clear as they enter.

“Not the butcher story!” you interrupt, sitting right back up like a vampire in its casket, watching Foggy enter with a handsome man next to him, his brown hair floppy and shiny, dark rectangular glasses perched on his nose and a white cane in the hand that isn’t holding his coffee. “You got coffee without me? Rude.”

“Jesus, (Y/N)!” Foggy hisses, almost slipping his to go cup of coffee in the process.

“Sounds like a pretty famous tale,” the man next to him says with an amused smirk pulling across some particularly pouty lips. Really pretty pouty lips.

“Matt, this is (Y/N), my best friend since toddledom,” Foggy introduces, licking some of the roast that escaped the sip hole of the lid. “(Y/N), this is my roommate, Matt. His dad was Battlin’ Jack Murdock.”

Getting up, you move over to in front of where he stands by Foggy, watching how he adjusts the cane in his grip to under his arm, extending his hand just enough where it looks expectant for yours.

“It’s nice to meet you, Matt,” you tell him with a soft smile. 

“Likewise,” he says with a little nod.

“I have to say, my gram was a big fan of your dad. She loved watching his matches.” He acknowledges your comment with a nod of his head and a little, soft smile. “You know, you lucked out on your roommate. Foggy’s the best friend you could ever ask for. You might need to get some earplugs, though, he snores like a Foghorn.”

“Do not!” Foggy interjects.

“He’s still in phase one denial of the whole thing. Really, sometimes, I think he could wake the dead with that sound.”

Matt’s lips curl into an incredibly large smile with a warm laugh that matches the expression.

And, well, the rest his history, with the three of you being thick as thieves since that day.

“This can’t happen,” you breathe, swallowing hard while your head and heart race a million miles a minute. “Foggy is my best friend—he’s your best friend. We can’t.”

“I know,” he breathes. “That doesn’t mean I want to, though. And correct me if I’m wrong, but I think you want to, too.” He pushes some hair that has fallen out of your clip behind your ear. “Would it . . . Would it really be the worst thing?”

Your eyes flick down to his lips and how is tongue peeks out ever so slightly to moisten the plush skin before back up to his honey hazel eyes and their off-center gaze, his face softer and more vulnerable without the dark specks resting on his nose. 

“This kind of stuff can ruin friendships. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to hurt Foggy.”

“I don’t want any of that either. But I also know that I don’t want to go another moment without kissing you.”

It’s unclear if you’re the one that closes the gap between you or if it’s Matt, but before you know it, you’re kissing in your little corner of the library. His lips are as soft as they look, perhaps even more so, and his aftershave floods your nose—crisp and fresh, a subtle blend of sandalwood, vanilla, and coffee pulling you closer and closer into him. His large hands slide down the sides of your body, squeezing your waist, making you moan into his mouth. The sound encourages him to lift you up, placing you so you straddle one of his legs. As the kiss grows more heated, your fingers running through his incredibly soft hair, you pull back, your chest rising and falling rapidly. 

“Are you okay?” Matt asks softly, his hands running up and down your body soothingly.

“Extremely,” you breathe with a bright smile.

Matt smiles so bright he could outshine the sun, lines of happiness etching themselves into the skin by his eyes as he leans back in for a kiss. His hands continue to move mindlessly along your waist and your back, his fingers grazing the hem of your shirt and sneaking underneath the soft fabric, making goosebumps break out over your body with a shudder.

“Isn’t it a bit of a cliché to do that in the library, Matthew?” you whisper in his ear as he trails wet kisses along your neck, your entire body tingling at your position and the way he moves against your body.

“Only if we get caught,” he smirks, moving his face back so it’s focused in your direction.

“I’m taking that as code for you can attest to that from experience?”

“It was a close call, never a red-handed situation.”

“Mm, you true gentleman.”

You watch as Matt’s brows shoot up and furrow, some of the energy leaving him as his demeanor beings to change. “Do you not want to? We don’t have to. I—.”

“I want to, Matt,” you tell him, your cheeks burning hot at your own admission. “Do you?”

“I do. I wouldn’t have kissed you like that if I didn’t want to. Unfortunately, I didn’t think it through all the way—we can’t go back to my dorm. Foggy is probably there.”

“We could go back to mine?” you suggest, your heart now fully racing like a marathon runner. “I have a dingle.”

“Dingle?” Matt repeats with furrowed eyebrows and pouty lips.

“A double that’s now a single since my roommate dropped out.”

“A dingle.”

“A dingle, yeah.”

Matt brings his lips back to your, his kisses needily and tenderly in your isolated corner of the library. 

“So, is that a yes, Murdock?”

The wicked grin that pulls as his lips tell you everything you need to know, and he doesn’t even bothering to use his cane as you lead him to your dorm on campus.

As soon as the door to your place is closed, your lips reattach and your hands work in a frenzy against one another’s bodies, desperately trying to get the clothes off of one another. Your hands slide over his muscular arms and torso until they are buried in his hair, the only thought in your brain is that you need to get him deeper and closer—a thought that continues on loop for the time you’re together.

The feeling of Matt’s lips on yours is made so much better after the orgasms that he has pulled from your body over and over during the night, but you’ll be damned if he stops now. A thin sheen of sweat covers your bodies as Matt continues to rut into you, one hand on your waist while the other supports his body weight on the mattress, kissing your shoulders and neck while his little wooden crucifix swings back and forth around his neck.

“Matt,” you groan before you pull him up for a kiss, his hair an absolute disheveled mess. It’s sloppy and filled with need, but damn if it isn’t absolutely impeccable.

“Do you have one more in there for me, angel?” he pants as he moves his kisses across your cheek to the sweet spot of your neck. “Come on, angel, you can cum one more time, can’t you?” All you can do is whimper as Matt continues to wind up that special knot in your stomach. “You’re doing so good. One more, I promise. Just one more.”

Hiking up your legs around his waist, you make sure the Matt’s hips stay as close to yours as possible, selfishly letting him rub up against your swollen, overstimulated clit, and ensuring that he’s nice and deep in you. The little grunts and groans that fall from Matt’s lips are angelic, the parted, plush lips and scrunched look of bliss on his face making your heart race more than it already is from exertion.

“Matty,” you whine. “Fuck!”

“Doin’ good, angel. Fuck, so good.”

Biting your lip and closing your eyes, you let the feeling wash over you while you dig your fingers into his toned muscles.

“I’m gonna . . . I—.”

“M-Me too,” he moans, dropping to his forearm to come closer to you as you try to hold your legs back higher. The newfound closeness and the new position let’s Matt reach a new angle, and it’s enough for the both of you to fall over the edge together. Matt does his best to try and fuck you through both of your orgasms, but it’s too much, and he stills, his hand running all over your body as he dips his head and presses soft kisses to your neck and lips. You suck in a sharp breath as he pulls out, feeling hollow without him in you, the drag of his length along your walls enticing. Tying up the condom, he tosses it in the trash while you get up and pad over to the bathroom. When you get back, you see him waiting with a dopey smile on his face, the sheets draping over his hips like some kind of adonis. When you get close enough, he pulls back your sheets and you happily slide in, snuggling close as he wraps an arm around you.

“You’re good at that,” you hum. “I think you’d gold medal.”

Matt laughs as his fingers trace patterns into your skin. “You’re not too bad yourself.”

“We can’t go back from that, you know,” you say softly.

“Who says I want to go back from it?” He shifts his head down in an effort to look at your face. You look back at him with furrowed brows. “I want to be more, (Y/N).”

“Matt,” you start. “I meant what I said. I don’t want to lose you or Foggy. If we do this and it doesn’t work . . . I lose the two most important people in my life.”

“I swear to you, (Y/N), you won’t lose either of us.”

You snuggle down on him, listening to his heartbeat before you peck a quick kiss to his chest. “I want more, too.”

“Then we’ll figure it out. I promise.” Matt runs a soothing hand up and down the line of your back.

“What are you thinking about?” he whispers.

You let out a little sigh. “Just that I thought I was supposed to be wined and dined before I was sixty-nine’d.”

Matt lets out a chuckle that radiates throughout your body. “We didn’t—.”

Before he can finish, you tilt your head up to look at his face, witnessing the moment that it clicks in his brain. “Classy,” he laughs.

“I’m just saying . . .”

“I can order pizza? I just don’t think I can do booze to go.”

“Who says you need to bring the booze?” Rolling over, you reach into the bottom drawer of your nightstand and pull out a bottle of wine. “From the special movie night reserve.”

Matt’s lips turn into a big smile, making adorable lines appear again at the corners of he eyes as he leans forward for another kiss, making you loose grip on your bottle of wine. He catches it with ease, placing it to the side of the bed as he chases your lips, and the way he captures your body beneath his lets you know that he doesn’t plan for the night to end any time soon.

Your leg bounces and your heart races as your eyes keep flicking towards the clock on the desk, watching the second hand move painfully slow across the timepiece as you await Matt’s arrival like you do several times a week, except this time, you have a surprise for him. Your heart nearly leaps out of your chest when you hear a gentle knock at the door. There’s no special pattern to it, but the pressure and rhythm lets you know that Matt is on the other side. His handsome smile greets you when you swing your door open.

“Hey,” you smile as Matt enters your dorm, his bag sliding off his broad shoulders to the ground, cane leaning up against the wall, and glasses coming off of his face as he toes off his shoes.

“Hey yourself,” he hums as his plush lips curl upward into a smile, slipping his arm around your waist and pulling you in for a kiss. The way his tongue slides into your mouth sends goosebumps all throughout your body; if anyone else tried to kiss you like this, you would consider it absolutely gross. But the way Matt does is? That’s how a man kisses—a man that’s on the cover of a romance novel that is dominant but tender, passionate yet gentle. A shudder of pleasure moves through you like shockwaves as he moves his hands up from your waist and up to your neck, helping him set the pace and motions of the kiss.

“I have a surprise for you,” you whisper when he finally pulls back, getting the sentence out just before he begins to eagerly move back in.

His eyebrows quirk up. “Do you, now?” Cocky bastard.

“I do. Now, sit on the bed.”

With a gentle push on his shoulder, he falls back on the mattress, making him coo in delight as he bounces slightly and causes the springs to squeak. With a little exhale to pump yourself up, you pull off your shirt and slide down your jeans, standing in nothing but your underwear.

“You know I can’t see it, angel,” Matt says with a tilt of his head. “But I do like what I just heard.”

“You don’t need to see it to appreciate it, Matty,” you inform, taking a step forward, taking his hands in yours and placing them on your shoulders. “Now, feel.”

This fingers glide over the soft lace that flutters off of the straps, down to the smooth mesh cups, and over the sides, tracing the lace and the pseudo-boning that decorate the bustier. His fingertips trace between the valley of your breasts, feeling a little criss-cross pattern that adorns the fabric before gliding his fingers down the the mesh panties and feeling the same soft lace that decorated it. A tiny moan escapes your lips when he brushes his fingers down between your legs, his digits lingering before they come to rest on your hips. 

“You got a matching set for me?” he asks, his expression and tone one that you can’t quite read.

“Don’t flatter yourself too much, Murdock, it’s from Target,” you hum as his hands trace the hemline of your panties. “But yeah. I thought you’d like the textures being consistent. And, I could afford it, so, that was a perk.”

“You got lingerie for me,” he smirks, his lopsided grin telling you that you’ve only inflated his ego. “That’s so—.” His sentence his halted when his fingers trail to the back of the underwear, just below the small of your back. “Angel, I think you’re missing part of these panties.”

Now it’s your turn to smirk. “Nope,” you tell him, popping the ‘p’. “It’s got a little keyhole back. It’s not quite easy access, but—mm, Matty.”

“I say, it gives me a good idea,” he says as one hand squeezes the flesh of your ass as the fingers on the other slip into the keyhole and tease you. Pulling you back onto the bed with him, you straddle him as you mimic the kind of kiss he greeted you with upon arriving. Moans and puckering quickly fill the room as you grind your hips on his jeans, opting to tease him through his light layers before attempting to shed them.

“You are such a fucking tease,” he murmurs in between kisses.

“Hi pot, it’s kettle,” you quip as you mark up his neck before pulling off his shirt. If you didn’t right this second, you’d never hear the end of it.

“Objection—badgering!”

“Overruled.”

With a light shove, you push him down so you are now fully on top of him, kissing all over his beautiful chest and soft skin as you grind into him.

“Shit,” he hisses. “Fuck, that’s nice.”

“You’ve helped me perfect my technique,” you hum into his skin, moving your kisses back up to his neck and lips. “Gotta get you nice and hard for me, Matty.”

As you continue to grind down on him, his hands guide your hips, setting the pace and pressure just so in an effort to make you both feel good. When his hands begin to travel up on your body along the line of your spine, you gently take hold of them and bring them back down.

“I got the matching set for you—it’s staying on during this entire thing,” you smirk, dragging his fingers along the mesh and lace of your panties. “Now, I can’t say the same thing about these jeans.”

Moving off of him, you undo his belt and pants, shimmying off the denim with some help from his hands, allowing you to take hold of his painfully hard cock, pumping it in your hand before you bend down, your knees digging into the thin mattress so you can start to take him in your mouth.

“(Y/N),” he moans. “Fuck . . . So nice, baby.”

“Mm,” you giggle, dragging your lips back and forth along his length, licking him here and there. “Your cock is so pretty, Matty. I love putting it in my mouth.” Slowly going down on his length, you wiggle your head side to side lightly until you’re all the way down on his length with your cheeks hollowed out. You look up at him through your lashes, feeling a sense of pride at how is face is contorted in pleasure and how long his lashes look resting on his cheeks. Moving off of him, you gasp and catch your breath, hungrily kissing up his length while one of his hands cradle the side of your face. His hand doesn’t set a pace as you bob your head, repeatedly taking his thick cock into your mouth over and over, but rather as a silent show of encouragement and affection as you work him. Careful to not get too lost in it all with Matt in your mouth, you reluctantly pull off, leaving soft pecks all the way up his body until you meet his lips.

“Are you ready to fuck me with my panties on, Matty?” you coo.

“Thought you’d never ask,” he murmurs with his lips against your. Taking you by surprise, he quickly grabs you by your hips and flips your positions, making you giggle and bring his lips back to yours for a deep kiss. Like a rehearsed routine, he extends his arm to the side and opens your nightstand drawer, rummaging around for the box of condoms you keep there. “Angel,” he pants, “I hate to break it to you, but there are no more condoms in this box.”

“What?” you say practically whining as you adjust your position under Matt, taking the investigation into your own hands. Just as Matt said, the box of contraceptives is completely empty. This time, you do whine. “No!”

“I told you.”

“I could have sworn I had plenty.”

“You know what it was?” he says, something clicking in his brain. “Moot court championship.”

Thinking back to a couple of weeks ago, you remember exactly how you celebrated the travel team winning your championship over Yale—you and Matt being the two that secured the victory, which only provided extra cause to celebrate.

“Damn, you’re right,” you sigh.

“I could always run out and get some more? I’d be quick.”

“Just what every girl wants to hear,” you joke, only for Matt to roll his eyes, licking his lips and tilting his head back in playful annoyance. Damn, he’s got a beautiful neck. “No, Matty. I don’t want you going out this late.

“It’s not too late, sweetheart.”

“I’d be worried about you going out in the dark.”

“That’s sweet—you worry about me.” Nothing in his words are condescending—they’re filled with pure affection. “Trust me, (Y/N). I’m a big boy. I can handle myself.”

“I still don’t like the idea of you going out.”

Matt kisses your forehead before resting his on yours. “I have an idea, but I don’t think you’re gonna like it.”

“You’re right, I don’t,” you say, knowing immediately where he is going with his sentence.

“Well, since you don’t want me to go out and get some more and I really, really need to be inside the smart and talented woman that bought a matching set for me, we’re in a pickle.”

You let out a huff, your hands sliding down Matt’s furry arms.

“Foggy isn’t there?” you check.

“Out with Marci.”

“And you’re sure there’s no way he’d be back?”

“I can say it’s highly likely he won’t be back. Even if he does—.”

“Matt—.”

“Even if he does,” he repeats. “He’s gonna leave almost immediately because his roommate is having sex.”

“And if he asks with who after? Actually, better yet, what if he tries to come and hang out with me?”

“Tell him you’re out shopping. You and I both know that while he’s a man of unique fashion, he treats shopping like a mission. Trust me, that should work.”

You look up at him, licking your lips in hesitation before you pull him down for a kiss. “Okay. But first . . .” Maneuvering him on the two pushed together mattresses of your dingle so you’re on top, you run your hands down his body, wrapping your digits around his rock hard length and pumping him a few times. “You’re not going anywhere with a boner that big.”

“Matt,” you breathe as he glides into me so incredibly effortlessly, hitting deep over and over. “Oh God, Matt.”

“Angel,” he grunts, a delicious blush spreading up and across his chest and neck. “Fuck, I needed you.”

“You’ve got me,” you smile, taking one of his hands in yours, lacing your fingers together while he thrusts into you. “Mm, you’ve got me, Matty. I’m yours. Only yours. ’m not going anywhere.”

The softest smile spreads across his features when he rests his forehead on yours. “My girl,” he whispers before bringing his lips to yours.

Dipping his lips to your neck, his holds your hips up so your back arches slightly off of the bed while he thrusts into you.

“Matty,” you whimper. “I lo—mm! Matt!”

Matt places wet kisses all over your chest and neck before he brings his lips back to yours. 

“So perfect,” he mutters in between kisses, and it’s then that you hear the twist and jiggle of the doorknob.

Matt abruptly breaks your embrace, frantically moving to cover your body with his, and you curl inward and down to the mattress, facing the wall so Foggy won’t be able to see your face.

“Sorry! Sorry!” Foggy says, and you can hear his hurried movements to grab what he needs. “Inopportune timing, I know, but Marci invited me on a weekend getaway, and I need some things.”

“Just hurry,” Matt urges him, and you can tell that the rapid way that his chest rises and falls isn’t from your interrupted exertion. “Please.”

“Don’t worry, I am out of—,” Foggy starts, but he doesn’t finish his sentence. “Those are (Y/N)’s shoes.”

“What would her shoes be doing in our room, Foggy? She can’t just leave them places —she kind of needs them. Besides, I’m kind of in the middle of something here.”

You hear Foggy’s bag fall to the floor with a thud.

Shit.

“Matt, who’s with you?”

“Foggy—.”

“You know, I think I might just give (Y/N) a call. Check up on her.”

“Fog—.”

“Wait,” you sigh, closing your eyes in distress and defeat as you break your silence. Adjusting from under Matt, you turn to look at your friend. The look of pure betrayal and hurt is one that will haunt you for the rest of your life. But what’s even scarier, is how quickly the hurt in his eyes turns to pure, red-hot anger.

“Get away from them!” Foggy shouts, pulling Matt off the bed, Matt barely having enough time to react and keep his sheets around his hips. “Don’t you dare touch them!” You hop down from the mattress, standing between the two best friends and roommates, sticking your arms out to create extra distance in the tiny dorm so Foggy doesn’t absolutely jump Matt.

“Stop it!” you urge.

“I can’t believe you!” Foggy continues.

“Foggy, believe me, we didn’t mean for this to happen, it just did—,” Matt tries.

“You know how much they mean to me, and you just decided to ignore it and drop your pants for a quick fuck—!”

“Hey, whoa, out of line, Foggy!” you interrupt. “Don’t put this on Matt like that, we both—.”

“I’m not talking to him, I’m talking to you!” he clarifies. “You know that Matt is my best friend, and you go and do this? How could you? I can’t believe you! After all the things I’ve told you, about how his is with women—.”

“Hey!”

“—how could you be so careless and reckless?”

“Excuse me—.”

“I thought you were smarter than this! I can’t believe you!”

“Foggy—.”

“I can’t even look at you. Just get out of here!”

Tears burn at my lash line as I let his words absorb into me. 

“Get out!” he repeats, the level and tone of his voice something I am thoroughly unused to. “I never want to see you again.”

You would’ve rather he just sent an open-faced slap across your face. His words and his tone cut you like a knife and are worse than any other pain you have or could ever experience. Mixed with his glare more than confirm that my best and oldest friendship has now been severed in half with no chance of reconciliation.

“Fog—,” Matt starts quietly, breaking the deathly silence in the room.

“I’m going,” you say after a moment, grabbing the clothes you can find. You don’t really care that they are Matt’s sweats—you just want to get out as fast as you can. Throwing them on and grabbing your bag, you begin to rush out of the room, only for Matt to take a few steps out to follow you.

“(Y/N)—,” he says softly, his beautiful hazel eyes desperately trying to focus on your face as his tongue darts out ever so slightly on his lips.

“I’ll see you later, Matty,” you tell him with a kiss to his cheek, as he holds your hand feet away from his door in the empty hallway.

“It’ll be okay,” he whispers, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze.

You squeeze it back. “No. It won’t.”

“How mad is he still?” you ask quietly as lie with Matt in bed, unable to stand the silence in the room that allows your thoughts to run wild, ramping up your anxiety over the friendship that you lost. Foggy was true to his words when he said he never wanted to see you again—he has cut you off cold in every way imaginable, from changing his route from dorm to class, to finding a new coffee shop and time to eat in the mess hall, to changing his seat in class to the other side of the room, and even going as far as to request a new partner for a project, erasing every possible venue where you could interact.

“He’s still really upset about it all,” Matt sighs. “He’s talking to me. It’s not exactly the same degree as it was, but it’s enough where we are moving back to what we were. It’s still awkward sometimes, though.”

“Does he know that we’re still together?”

“He does.” Matt pauses for a long while, his arm rubbing up and down your arm as if he’s listening to your silent question that screams through the dorm room. “We don’t talk about relationships, though.”

You let your breath hitch in your chest while your jaw tightens, a fresh wave of guilt that you haven’t felt in a long time washing over you. “I’m sorry that I’ve made things weird between you guys,” you whisper on the verge of tears.

“It’s not your fault, (Y/N).”

You snuggle down into his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart. “Sure as hell feels like it.”

“He’ll move past it. It’s just gonna take time. Before you know it, it’ll be back to how it was.”

“It won’t be the same, Matt. You know that it won’t. Especially after all these months . . . it’s dead and gone and buried.”

“It will be okay, (Y/N).” When you don’t respond, Matt moves his hands down your body and situates you so you’re sitting on top of him, the covers pooling around your waist and leaving you exposed to the cold winter air that seeps in through the old windows of the dorm. “I promise you, (Y/N), that it will all be okay. And you know how I know? You and Foggy have the biggest hearts of everyone I know. There’s so much love in there, and there’s so much love that you have for one another. So when I tell you that it’s going to be okay, it will be okay.”

You give him a small smile, leaning down and taking his face in your hands, giving him a soft and sweet kiss.

“Thanks, Matt,” you whisper, brushing his hair off of his forehead.

“Hey, I know what will get that smile to grow.” With his hands on your hips, he begins to rock you back and forth along his leg, holding you down, placing just the right amount of pressure down on your hips to create the friction that you need between your legs.

“Dick,” you chuckle as he guides you along his strong, muscular leg.

“You gotta give him a minute before it’s good for either of us,” he hums, only making you laugh more. “But I got you to smile.”

“You always make me smile, Matty.”

“Ditto, angel.”

Your room fills with the slick sound of your core against his leg and your heavy breathing, the sounds only getting louder as your pace increases.

“Right there,” you breathe as he guides your hips on his thigh, soaking the skin that’s there and creating a mess between your legs. “Fuck, Matty. It’s so fucking good, baby.”

“Grab a condom, angel,” he moans. “Fuck, I gotta get in you soon. Need you, angel.”

Twisting around quickly, you go to reach for the box in your nightstand. However, you twist too quick, losing your balance and teetering off of Matt’s thigh, crashing down on the concrete floor of your dorm, your arm breaking the fall. You groan in pain, muffling the sound by keeping your mouth shut as it tries to escape your lungs, and you hold onto your forearm, a throbbing pain radiating from deep down.

“(Y/N), are you okay?” Matt asks you as he gets out of the bed and helps you up.

“Fine,” you grit through your teeth. “It’s fine.”

“It doesn’t sound fine.” You wince when his hand grazes your arm. “(Y/N)—.”

“I’m okay. I just whacked my arm real good.”

“It sounded like more than that. Take the word of a blind man with really good hearing. It’s more than a whack.”

“Matty, it’s okay.”

“You really should get it checked out. It might be broken.”

“It’s not broken, Matt, trust me. Nothing Advil and ice can’t fix.”

“Sweetheart, please. That way, we can know for sure.”

“Matty—.”

“I’ll foot the bill.”

“It’s not about money, I—.”

“Go for me. It’ll make me feel better to know that a medical professional says you’re fine,” he continues. “Please, angel.”

You let out a sigh, taking in how concerned he is and how soft his features are.

“You’re gonna have to help me get dressed,” you concede.

“It’s gonna be a while,” you tell Matt as you sit back down next to him in the waiting room.

“But the forms are filled out,” he says with a little smirk. “One step down.”

“I’m telling you, Matt, it’s probably nothing.”

“And then you can rub it in my face. But at least I’ll feel better knowing you’re all right.”

“Yeah, but you’ll have an uncomfortably sore back.”

“C’mere,” he whispers, having you adjust and snuggle into his chest as you sit in the stiff, flat seats. “I always feel better when you’re on me—it’ll cancel out the shitty chairs.”

You chuckle softly, finding the sweet spot that you love to curl into. “You’re a good pillow, you know that?”

“You might have told me once or twice before.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head while he throws his coat over you like a blanket. The motion immediately brings the sleep creeping at the edge of your consciousness to the forefront, slowly taking over. “Try and sleep, angel. I’ll wake you up when they call.”

“No sleep til Brooklyn,” you smile.

“You’re hilarious,” he sighs, lightly resting his head on yours. “You still need to sleep. You were up late studying for your last final, got, what, maybe three hours of sleep? And you’ve been going all day. I’ll wake you up when they want to take you back, I promise.”

You yawn wide and snuggle into him, closing your eyes and feeling just how heavy they are. “Kay, Matty. Love you.”

You feel his hand slip into yours on on good arm. “Love you, too, angel.”

When you feel Matt gently shake you awake, you’re sure you must have only closed your eyes for a short while, but when Matt helps me up, your watch tells you that it’s several hours later.

“Want help, angel?” he asks as you slide his jacket back over to him.

“I’ve got it, Matty,” you hum, giving his lips a quick peck. “Besides, I got to prove to you that it’s all fine.”

“Okay,” he chuckles, giving the hand on your good arm a squeeze. “See you soon.”

After he listens to you get led back, Matt tunes into the orchestra of the waiting room, listening to anything and everything for a long while before something catches him off guard.

“What happened?” a familiar voice rings in Matt’s ears in the quieting ER.

“Foggy? What are you doing here?” Matt asks, standing up.

“Marci was visiting her cousin that had a baby. She saw you guys come in, said that something looked wrong.”

“(Y/N) hurt her arm. She didn’t want to come, but she was in a lot of pain. I almost had to drag her here.”

“What happened? How’d she hurt it?”

“She was trying to reach for something and overestimated the stretch. She fell off the mattress and landed hard on her arm.”

“Is it broken?” Foggy asks as he sits in your empty seat.

“I think it is,” Matt sighs, mirroring his friend’s movements. “She’s convinced she’s fine, though.”

“Of course she thinks she’s fine. She never wants to admit when she’s hurt. It’s like when she gets a cold, it’s always just—.

“Allergies’,” Matt finishes with a smirk. “Yeah. You know, she got a really bad cold about a month ago, and she would swear a blue streak that she was okay. I had to keep a bag of lozenges in my bag with a to-go Tylenol so when her fever spiked, I could give her some with some water or get her a tea from the coffee cart. I don’t know how she muscled through it. It was really bad.”

He can hear how his friend turns to look at him. “You really care about her, huh?”

“I love her, Foggy,” Matt tells him. “When I was with Elektra, I thought that was love. But being with (Y/N) . . . I know she’ll always be there. She makes me better. She helps me be who I want to be. And I’d do absolutely anything for her. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier.” He tilts his head to his friend. “You know she didn’t want to date me at first? She was afraid it’d ruin our friendship, but she was more worried about how you would take it. She didn’t want to hurt your feelings. After everything . . . Fog, (Y/N)’s absolutely torn up about it.”

“You know, I’ve thought a lot about what I said to her and how I said it,” Foggy starts. “The look on her face . . . The worst thing about it all is that when I said those words, I wanted them to hurt her, and I did exactly that, and I felt good that I did. She looked so broken. By the time I wanted to try and talk to her, I burned that bridge so much I couldn’t reach her. I feel like the biggest piece of shit that there is.”

“If I know anything, it’s that (Y/N) loves you, and you and your friendship means the world to her. That bridge isn’t gone. If anything . . . The map was lost. And just because the map is lost doesn’t mean that the path over that bridge is gone for good.”

“You think so?” Foggy asks hesitantly.

“I know so. And if I know you and (Y/N) even a fraction of how well I do, things will be okay.”

“Thanks, Matt.”

“I’m just telling you the truth, man.”

As they talk in the waiting room, everything starts to feel like it used to—the ease, the comfort, the flow of conversation. After about ninety minutes, Foggy declares a quest for coffee, groaning as he stands, bemoaning just how uncomfortable the ER seats are. Shortly after Foggy disappears, Matt hears your heartbeat grow closer to the double doors you went through, the nurse giving you a list of care instructions. Matt smirks to himself while he can, taking some pride in the fact that he convinced you to get some help and prevent it from becoming worse, but willing to play none the wiser for when you come out.

“I’m not saying that you were right, only that I underestimated the severity,” you sigh as you meet Matt in the waiting room.

“What was it?” Matt asks, leaning in to kiss your cheek, but you wince when his hand is on your arm. “(Y/N), this feels like a cast.”

“Well, yes, it is. My radius and ulna are broken. But I was right, I’m fine. I’ll survive.”

“You are absolutely fit to be a lawyer,” he chuckles, kissing you once more. “When can the cast come off?”

“It’ll be off just in time for the start of the semester. No kinky sex stuff, though.”

“I’m sure we can find some kinky stuff to do that won’t hurt it. Trust me, I can get very creative.”

You laugh as he leans in for a kiss, your lips still turned into a smile as you embrace. When you pull back, you see Foggy approaching with a coffee travel tray. You immediately dip your head and avoid looking at him, unable to fight the feeling of tears that instantly bloom in your chest.  

“You still like cinnamon in your coffee, right?” Foggy asks, making you tilt your head up to look at him, his other hand extending the hot cup to you. 

“Two sugars?” you ask softly.

“No cream,” he says with a little smile. 

Taking it with your good hand, you let the cup warm you up. “Thanks, Foggy.”

“I’ll hail a taxi for us,” Matt says, pressing a kiss into your hair and then patting Foggy on the shoulder, leaving nothing but thick air between you and the person you’ve known your whole life. 

“Listen, (Y/N)—.”

“I’m sorry, Foggy,” you blurt, unable to contain it. “With Matt, we just kissed, and I didn’t want to stop kissing him, but I really didn’t want to hurt you. It was head and heart and I just froze, and I lost my best friend because of it. I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry about, (Y/N),” Foggy says softly, looking like he just saw a puppy get kicked. “I thoroughly overreacted. I should have been happy that my two friends were together and happy. Instead, I turned into a big brother and treated both of you like you didn’t know what you’re doing. I dunno . . . I guess I had just wished you would’ve told me.”

“I didn’t want you to be mad. And the longer I waited, well, it felt like I couldn’t tell you,” you tell him. “I’m so sorry.”

“You love him?” is all that Foggy asks.

“I really do,” you nod. “He loves me, too. He hasn’t said it, but I just have a feeling, you know?”

“Something tells me that he does, too.” His brows furrow in concern. “Can you forgive me?”

“Of course, Fog. Do you forgive me?”

“I’d wrap you in a big hug as a silent ‘You bet your bottom, I do’, but then I’d hurt your arm even more than it already is.”

“You still can,” you��say with a small smile. “I’m a tough cookie. I can handle it.”

“How about when the two of you aren’t holding hot beverages?” Matt interjects as he reapproaches you.

“Attention to detail—that’s why you’ll be an excellent lawyer,” Foggy teases. 

“Thanks, man,” Matt tells him, putting his jacket around your shoulders. “Good to go, angel?”

“Yeah, thanks,” you hum.

“I say let’s go to Josie’s. Drinks on me,” Foggy says as you move to the cab. “I’ve got my best friends back—if that isn’t cause for celebration, I don’t know what is.

“You think we’ll have time?” Matt asks, feeling at his watch as you guide him into the taxi.

“I’m sure she’d keep the bar open just a little longer for her favorite patrons and retainered legal council.”

“None of us are lawyers yet, Fog,” you chuckle as Foggy tells the cabbie the address for the bar. 

“But we will be after we pass the Bar, and once we are, we’ll be her lawyers. Bingo, bango, bongo. She’ll let us have a tab and everything.”

“Dreaming big, aren’t you?” Matt laughs.

“Oh yeah, once we get that tab, we’ll be able to take over the world.”

“How about save the world?” you offer.

“Matt’s big humanitarian heart has gotten to you, I see.”

“C’mon, Fog. Who better to stick up for the little guys than three little guys from the Kitchen?”

“You make a good point. But I do counter—big office space with nice big windows and a view.”

“Well, a big office space would be nice. Windows and a view isn’t a deal breaker for me,” Matt smirks.

“We’ve got a real comedian over here.”

“All I’m saying is that if we’re helping people, does it really matter what the space is like?”

“Well, it’d be nice to have walls, floors, WiFi—ooh, no lead paint . . .”

“Okay, the space matters a little bit,” Matt and Foggy laugh as the cab comes to a halt, Matt beating you to the punch and paying the driver before you can unzip your bag.

“Regardless of its size, the space has to be in the Kitchen,” you settle. “If we’re gonna help the people, we need to be with the people.”

“Amen,” Foggy agrees, followed by Matt’s, “Here, here!” as we walk in.

“Sounds like we’ve got a future to plan,” you smile as you sit between them at the bar.

“Josie—the eel, please!” Foggy asks. “And several napkins: I’ve got some designing to do.”

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