#i jus felt like drawing something n finishing it n posting it all in one go ksjnfks | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

twiceinadream · 3 years

Text

“Make me yours.”

Requested: Yup

Request: shy! Alphas dahyun and tzuyu mating reader for the first time. Like there shy until she just begs them to take her and something jus flips?

a/u: Hey, y’all, I’m back! I’m so sorry I was gone for so long, writer’s block and life haven’t really been my friends for the past seven weeks, but I finally managed to finish a fic! I hope you enjoy it and my slow return back to posting. Also thank you so much for 3,000k+ followers, I love you guys!

Category: NSFW and Fluff

Word Count: 2.8k

Clouds began to crowd the sky as the morning light was blocked by the downpour that had seemed to manifest out of thin air, the streets made slick with rain as early commuters combated with the elements. But it also created a peaceful atmosphere for you and your girlfriends as the light tapping of the rain against the floor-to-ceiling windows gradually roused you from the depths of sleep, a loud yawn erupted from your lips as your eyes fluttered open.

The scent of the two Alphas snuggled on either side of you filling your senses as you reveled in the moment, enjoying the feel of their bodies against yours until it seemed like you began to burn up. Your skin felt clammy as sweat began to bead along your hairline, the feel of fire felt like it was beginning to claim the pit of your stomach when an overwhelming sense of urgency coursed through your veins, ‘You were in heat.’

The comforter covering your bodies felt suffocating as you pressed your thighs together in an effort to stop the wetness from sleeping out on the bed, while you did your best to weasel away from the women clinging to you. Holding your breath as you snaked your way to the edge of the mattress so you could make a bolt to the en-suite, locking the door behind you as your legs finally gave out from under you and helplessly slid onto the floor.

Your underwear was completely soaked in your slick as you barely had enough strength to peel them off you before discarding them on the bathroom floor. The feel of the tile under your heated skin did wonders to relieve the burn you felt as one of your hands began sliding it’s way down to the burning between your legs. You shyly toyed with your slit as your fingertips dipped shallowly into your center, running your fingers through the wetness but stopping before you could properly pay attention to your clit as more of your essence began spilling out. Drenching your hand in wetness as you finally gave in and plunged into your depths. Your walls immediately tightened around the sudden intrusion as a guttural moan released itself from deep within your chest, your hand pistoned itself in and out of your entrance as you could feel your first release building up inside of you. The cool in your stomach growing taught as you pulled your fingers out from inside and moved up to attack your clit.

Your fingers frantically flicking, rubbing, and circling the straining bundle of nerves as your eyes remain squeezed shut, your breathing beyond labored as you balled your fist against the tile. Your body bracing itself as it froze for a fraction of a second before releasing all the tension it had stored within itself.

Streams of pent up arousal came shooting out of you as you continued to focus all your energy onto your clit as your peak took you to heights you never thought imaginable. You were becoming acutely aware of the screams echoing off the bathroom walls that you finally recognized as your own as your orgasm finally died down. Slight jerks wracked your body as your hand fell to the side, a content smile forming on your lips as the aftershocks of your orgasm thrummed throughout your body. A contented sigh falling from your lips as you rested peacefully against the bathroom door, until a knock sounded cr behind it.

“Y..Y/N? Are you okay?” Your blood ran cold as Dahyun’s voice sounded from behind the door.

“Mm hmm.” You hummed, “Everything’s fine!” You tried to sound more put together than you felt to mask the fact you were in heat and surrounded by your two, unmated girlfriends.

“No you’re not.” It was Tzuyu this time. “We can smell you from underneath the door.”

‘Well, shit.’ You mused to yourself as you slowly began to stand up, ‘That didn’t work.’ You sighed, knowing it was impossible to put off the inevitable, “Okay, fine. I’m coming out.”

To say you were nervous would be a gigantic understatement as you braced yourself to face your girlfriends. Exhaling slowly as you pushed the door open to find the two Alphas you had left in bed this morning staring at you, “Morning.”

Dahyun and Tzuyu deadpanned as they stood up straighter, your scent finally hitting them in full force as they took in your appearance. From the flush of your cheeks to the clenching of your thighs, “You’re in heat.”

It was your turn to deadpan as you looked at Tzuyu, “No shit, Sherlock.”

Dahyun suppressed a laugh as she tried not to look at the stunned disbelief on the taller Alpha’s face, “What Tzumong meant to say was, ‘Would you like some help with it?’.”

You giggled slightly, “Depends.” A coy smile grew on your face as you palmed the Alpha’s bulges through their boxers, enjoying the way their alpha-hoods swelled under your touch. Their scents combined into a dominant musk that made your mind spin and your core clench. “What do you have to offer?”

Tzuyu huffed a laugh and sat on the bed beside you, reaching her hand between your legs to rub at your swollen, slick clit to ease the need that your heat would be bringing without someone inside you. Dahyun quickly pulled her shirt and bra over her head, tossing them both to the floor and eased her boxers the rest of the way down her legs. She watched with a smile on her face as Tzuyu teased you and pressed her own erection up against you, grinding to work you up even more.

Dahyun climbed back onto the bed, laying down beside you as her cock strained against the cold air of the room, slipping her hand down to press two fingers inside of you. Tzuyu pulled her own hand away, drawing out a desperate groan from you as she did so. She undressed quickly, her clothes ending up on a pile on the floor next to Dahyun’s. Her hand found your clit again as she laid down beside you like Dahyun had done.

“What do you want us to do to you, baby? You’re already so wet for us.”

You struggled to find the words to answer that question, your mind torn between how good both of their hands felt on you but also the desire and the need for more. Tzuyu chuckled when she didn’t get a response to her question, her eyes flicking up to meet Dahyun’s.

“Then I guess it’s up to us. Isn’t it, Y/N-ah?” Tzuyu ran her tongue over your lips eliciting a groan at all the possibilities of what was to come at the hands of your Alphas.

Dahyun couldn’t suppress her smile as she felt her length pulse, “Sounds good to me, Tzu.” Both of the girls took their time to feel you up as they each made their way to some part of you. Dahyun moved in front of you to place lingering kisses along your chest making you squirm against her wandering lips while Tzuyu busied herself with placing open mouthed kisses on the base of your neck and up to your jaw as you continued to pant under their ministrations.

The slick between your legs was practically smeared along your thighs and probably soaking into the bed sheets by now with how turned on you were. The fire of your heat burned so hot in your lower belly that you felt like it was going to consume you from the inside out if the Alphas surrounding you didn’t do something quick.

A desperate whine left your throat as you rocked your hips backwards to grind against Tzuyu, her hardness digging into your ass when you finally decided that now was finally the time.

You were finally going to ask them to be your mates.

A shuddering breath fell from your lips as sweat dripped down your face, a look of determination in your eyes as you called both of your girlfriend’s attentions. Causing them to momentarily stop what they were doing to face you, “I’m ready.”

The sudden confession surprised them both as Dahyun looked at you with concern, “Are you sure?”

You appreciated her worry but you could barely think of anything other than the two of them plowing you into the mattress as you nodded, “Make me yours.”

A wide smile broke out onto both of their faces as they placed a kiss on opposite sides of your cheeks, Tzuyu nuzzling into your hair as she wrapped her arms around your waist, “And we’ll make you ours.”

The both of them helped you roll onto your side, having you face Dahyun. Tzuyu’s hands helped to support your thighs to keep them spread for Dahyun as she brought the head of her cock to your already dripping cunt. She chose to tease you at first, not pressing inside but instead rubbing slow, steady circles with it, enjoying the way your entrance fluttered the more you got worked up. Sliding her alpha-hood between your folds to lube up her length a little more before she got ready to push into you for the first time, not bothering to add any additional lubrication other than your guy’s combined wetness as you were practically soaking.

Tzuyu snaked one hand up to palm at your breasts, tugging and pinching a nipple between her fingers, causing your hips to jerk forward towards Dahyun. When she finally pushed forward, sliding the tip of her cock inside of you after she felt you had enough teasing. Your breath catching in your throat as she slowly began pushing into you, your walls squeezing down on her at the unfamiliar stretch as you gritted your teeth a little at the pain. Your eyes squeezed shut as Tzuyu whispered words of encouragement into your ear as she continued to toy with your breasts, doing her best to make the small amount of pain you were experiencing turn to pleasure as soon as possible.

Your body relaxed when Dahyun had finally bottomed out inside of you, she waited patiently for you to adjust to her size when you nodded, “You can move.”

She grunted in response as she pulled out so that only the head of her cock remained inside of you, before carefully thrusting back inside of you causing you to cry out in relief as you were filled up again, the stretch of Dahyun’s length starting to finally feel pleasant. You tilted your head back to rest against Tzuyu’s chest, panting loudly as Dahyun began thrusting.

She took over Tzuyu’s hand that had been supporting your thigh, as she brought your leg to hook around her hip instead. Tzuyu continued to palm at your breast with one hand, moving her now free hand to your ass, using her finger to tease at your other hole. A needy and desperate whimper escaped your lips as Tzuyu’s finger prodded and threatened to press inside.

“So eager.” The taller Alpha teased with a chuckle before standing up, heading to their bedside table.

You let out a whine, Dahyun’s cock was inside you just like you wanted - needed - but her hips stopped moving. You needed more and you needed it now. Dahyun shushed your whines, pressing gentle kisses to your shoulder before switching to nipping at the skin, enjoying the breathy moans you gave in response.

The bed dipped as Tzuyu found her spot behind you again except this time with a bottle of lube in hand. Tzuyu popped the cap, squeezing it into the palm of her hand with a wet noise before tossing the bottle aside. With one hand she began to ease her fingers inside your hole, starting with just one digit but quickly moving to two with the desperate noises she was making.

Dahyun waited patiently, wanting so much to just begin thrusting with how amazing it felt to be inside of you, your walls clenching tightly around her but she knew she had to wait for Tzuyu and it would be worth it. Tzuyu worked her way up to three fingers, enjoying the way you stretched for her before finally pulling away, earning yet another desperate whimper from deep within your chest. She used the rest of the lube to slick up her own cock as she pressed the head of it against your hole, pausing for just a moment before pressing inside.

You clung to Dahyun’s shoulders, fingernails digging in harshly as you wailed with pleasure, feeling both of your holes be filled up just like you’d been impatiently waiting for. There was a pause when Tzuyu bottomed out, the two alphas giving you a moment to adjust before Dahyun gave the first thrust. Your fingernails dragging down Dahyun’s back with a loud moan as Tzuyu thrusted in as soon as Dahyun was drawing back, the two of them alternating their thrusts into you.

“More! Please, please more!” You gasped, your heart racing and mind dizzy as your heat fully took hold and demanded even more from them.

Both Dahyun and Tzuyu were more than willing to oblige. Dahyun moved one hand up to pinch at one of your nipples, while Tzuyu busied her mouth with sucking dark hickeys into the muscle of your shoulders. They both began to thrust into you harder, enjoying the loud moans that you were letting out. You squirmed between them, not to get away from the pleasure but seeking out anything else they could give you.

“How does it feel, Jagi?” Dahyun asked breathlessly, punctuating her words with a teasing press of her newly formed knot against your aching entrance, “I bet you’ve been dreaming of this moment. Tzumong and me filling you to the brim as you lose control”

Tzuyu leaned in, murmuring against your ear as she joined in on the teasing, “You’re so spoiled, Y/N-ah. Having two Alphas taking care of your heat.”

“Fuck! Just…knot me.” You groaned, squeezing your eyes shut as their teasing made the coil in your belly tighten.

Dahyun used one hand to grip your hip to push her knot inside first, doing so with a rough snap of her own hips followed by a delighted sigh. It had entered with a loud, slick pop. Your inner walls instantly clenched tightly around it. By the noises you were making, both Dahyun and Tzuyu could tell that you were so close to your peak, so Tzuyu followed Dahyun’s lead, pushing her knot inside your ass with a forceful thrust.

Causing you to cry out as you clenched hard on the two cocks inside you, viciously dragging your fingernails down Dahyun’s back as you felt both of your girlfriends release inside of you. Filling you up with their cum as they grunted and groaned against you, both of them sharing the same thought as they simultaneously sank their teeth into both sides of your neck.

Mating you.

Claiming you.

Their bites were the final straw as you were thrown over the edge, a high pitched scream escaped from your throat as you felt all the tension building inside of your body finally find its release. White filled your vision as every part of you spasmed, helpless to the onslaught of pure pleasure that made every nerve in your body stand on end. Before your high began to taper off as you fell bonelessly against Tzuyu.

The Alpha snaked her arm around your waist, pulling you as close as possible to her, palm rubbing and pressing against your stomach. A weak groan escaped from you at how full you felt before Tzuyu stopped, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. Before propping herself up on one elbow, watching as Dahyun began to card her fingers through your hair, a goofy smile on her face as she trailed a finger down to the fresh bite on the right side of your neck. Her mark.

Both of their knots had shrunk enough inside of you for them to pull out but they continued to lie there, not moving.

That was until Tzuyu began to laugh from behind you, jostling you and Dahyun slightly as she calmed with a sigh, “I can’t believe we did it. We’re mates.”

The word felt strange but familiar all at the same time as you pushed the Alphas back slightly so that they were no longer inside of you, allowing you to lie on your back so that you could see the both of them properly, “Took us long enough.”

A chuckle also came from Dahyun as she linked her fingers with Tzuyu’s as their hands rested against your stomach, “At least we did. I guess that finally makes you our Omega now, doesn’t it Y/N.”

You couldn’t suppress the smile growing on your face as you took their interlocked hands that were resting on your belly and brought them to your lips, kissing them both. “And I guess that makes you two my Alphas.”

The two smiled as they cuddled into either side of you, “Yes, yes it does.”

365 notes · View notes

xseaxwitchxkpop · 3 years

Text

Have Your Cake and Eat It, (2)

I tried to be a little punny with the title, forgive my cringe humor. Anyway, here’s part two and I am DEFINITELY making a part three to this because I want to get a little more filthy with it but the ending just felt right, ya know? SMUTTY SMUT SMUT AHEAD

Part One // Part Three

Dislcaimers/CW: mommy kink, fem!reader, dom!reader, dom!Yunho, sub!San, tall!reader, plussize!reader, choking, riding, unprotected sex (pls wrap it before you tap it), vibrators, daddy kink, shibari, voureyism, blowjob

Requested: NO

Group: ATEEZ -- San, Yunho

Word Count: 2,875

******************************

You stood outside the boys’ dorm, waiting for Yunho and San to meet you at the front door. The three of you felt it would be best to have fun the day before San’s birthday so San would be in the best mood possible and so you two could spoil him all day.

The two boys in question finally came out, San holding Yunho’s hand and the three of you set off to brunch at San’s favorite cafe. The birthday boy set himself between the two of you, taking each of your hands like a child with his parents. You and Yunho were about the same height, so this made the picture of the three of you adorable -- you could probably swing San if you tried hard enough.

To anyone looking on, the three of you were just friends going to brunch, but each of you knew better. San wore a vibrator up his ass that was connected to yours and Yunho’s phone, making the foreplay before night that much more fun. When you three sat down and decided on your food, the waiter came by to take your orders. As San was ordering, you took out your phone and turned the vibrator to medium, taking him by surprise in which he barely held in a whine before the waiter left. He shot you a look and you just shrugged, smile playing on your lips and eyes gleaming with dominance.

When the waiter delivered the food, you put the vibrator on low and left it on for the duration of the meal. The vibrator in his ass combined with Yunho casually stroking the inside of his thigh and coming close to his dick but never touching it, San couldn’t help but let out a couple of quiet moans, struggling to not cum in his pants at the table.

Yunho leaned over and whispered in San’s ear, “Is my sweet prince having a hard time behaving himself?” before quickly nibbling his ear then returning to the conversation you and he were having. San let out a low whine, accidentally catching the attention of the table next to yours.

When you noticed, you turned and said to them, “Can we help you with something?” They went back to their meals and pretended nothing happened.

San’s hand flew to Yunho’s, grasping it in a death grip as if begging for the vibrator to be turned off. “Please, daddy…” he mumbled, face scrunching up in a visible effort to not ruin his pants more than they already are -- good thing he wore black.

Yunho chuckled, making eye contact with you then looking back at San to answer, “Baby, I’m not the one to ask.” At that point, San turned his attention to you, hand still gripping Yunho’s, and pleaded with his eyes. You took mercy on him, considering part of the fun was edging him all day.

San let out a sigh of relief and finished his food. “Did you enjoy your food, baby boy?” you asked as you three got up, linking your arm around his and Yunho going to pay for the food.

“Yes, I did. Can we get Starbucks? I’m craving something sweet and I don’t want to wait for cake tomorrow,” he whined, hoping that acting cute would help in his persuasion. He knew he succeeded when you took a left at the traffic light, walking towards the Starbucks that was on the other side of the street.

It was only about 1pm when the lot of you were done with brunch and got Starbucks, so Yunho decided that it would be fun to window-shop at the mall and maybe buy a couple of early presents if San wanted to.

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

It was about 8:30pm when you three entered your apartment, placing a couple of bags on the floor and putting some snacks from the convenience store on the counter. San didn’t really want much in terms of material objects, so the bags had mostly snacks for post-sex comfort and one Pusheen plushie that San couldn’t say no to.

The shorter male made his way to your couch and plopped down, watching as you and Yunho brought the bags of snacks and water to the bedroom, sucking on a lollipop he snuck from a bag before either you or Yunho noticed and could stop him.

His phone buzzed as he got a text from Wooyoung.

Sannie~ are you gonna spend the night at Y/N’s place? I’m making dinner and I need to know how many plates to have. Is Yunho gonna spend the night, too, or is he coming back?

San sent a quick reply with not too much detail as all the other members were told was that you couldn’t get the day off tomorrow to celebrate so you decided to celebrate today with Yunho; the members accepted this with almost no question, though Yeosang found it just a bit fishy. He always managed to see through bullshit but at least he never pressed.

Yeah, we are. Don’t bother to set up for us. We’ll be back tomorrow, late morning <3

“Whatcha doin’ there, sweetheart?” you whispered in his ear from behind, causing him to jump a little. He tried to turn around but your hand snaked up to his throat, squeezing a little and forcing his head back, your breath playing on his ear.

All San could do was whine as Yunho took his phone away and placed it on the coffee table, you guiding San to lean against your chest with your hand on his throat as you moved back to lean against the arm, San positioned between your legs.

Yunho sat with a leg underneath him, hand coming up from the hem of San’s button-down shirt and lightly tracing his abs, San’s breath hitching from the light touches and sensation of being lightly choked.

Your free hand replaced Yunho’s as Yunho took both his hands and slowly unbuckled San’s belt, dragging his pants down agonizingly slowly.

San’s dick throbbed, an obvious wet spot already starting to form on his underwear from barely any ministrations from either you or Yunho. Perhaps it was the thought of what the night held that made him so hard, but all he could do was whine out as your hand on his throat restricted him from properly speaking.

“Look at your pretty cock, baby, all ready for us. What a slut you are, hmm? All that edging all day must’ve been hard for a greedy whore like you,” you gently whispered in his ear, hand moving from his abs to tweaking one of his nipples, pulling his shirt up with your arm to do so. His whine increased in pitch as his dick visibly twitched and his breathing sped up.

“Please….momma....daddy….I jus’....please….,” he managed to choke out in desperation, you and Yunho touching him everywhere except where he needed it the most.

Yunho situated himself between San’s legs, taking San’s cock in his mouth and placing his hands on the boy’s hips to steady himself and make sure San’s hips didn’t jerk up and hurt his throat.

At this point you released your hand from his neck, taking to playing with his nipples and dusting kisses across his neck that you had access to; you wanted to hear his sweet sounds as you know Yunho did as well.

Yunho set to work, giving a sloppy blowjob and drawing out various high-pitched moans and “daddy”s from San. The birthday boy was enjoying every bit of what you two gave him, nearly lost in the sensations of your touches and Yunho on his dick.

“‘M close, so close, so---” he cut himself with a strangled moan, an audible effort to not cum without anyone’s permission because then he would face punishment and that’s not what he wanted tonight.

Yunho popped San’s dick out of his mouth, a string of saliva connecting his mouth to San, as San’s dick landing on his abdomen. You had never thought that could be a turn on, but there you were, messing with San’s nipples as you took in that glorious sight, panties getting soaked and knowing that San could feel it on his back through your underwear and thin sundress.

Yunho dragged his nails down San’s thighs and smirked as San let out a sigh of content. Suddenly, Yunho took San’s dick back in his mouth and continued what he did before, San letting out a gasp and you gripping his chest and arm.

“Remember, whore, you can’t cum until I say you can,” you said, dominance lacing your voice. San heard you, but couldn’t stop himself from releasing into Yunho’s mouth with a low, drawn-out moan, then immediately hating his body for betraying him.

“Tsk-tsk,” you tutted, biting the shell of his ear. Yunho, with San’s cum in his mouth, sat up and hovered over you and San, kissing San hard on the mouth and forcing him to swallow his own load. San laid limp in your arms, panting and glowing in a sheen of sweat once Yunho was done. The dominant male placed a quick kiss on the other male’s forehead, then proceeded to get up and start removing his shirt.

You couldn’t help but look at the obvious bulge in his pants, and a large one at that. You felt your pussy throb and mouth water slightly as you imagined what it would be like to have his cock stretch you out perfectly.

Yunho disappeared into your bedroom and didn’t come back out. You took that as a sign to move to the bedroom, but also realized that meant dragging San with you.

You pushed him up, forcing him to stand and follow you to the bedroom, taking off his shirt as he did so.

When he crossed the threshold, you turned around and put one hand on his shoulder and another on his cheek to caress his face. “Now, what am I gonna do with my disobedient cumslut, hmm? You came without permission, one rule you broke and so soon.”

San looked at you with horny apprehension, not knowing what you had planned for punishment. In honesty, he surprised himself from coming so soon and without permission -- he’s always pretty obedient.

Yunho came up from the side and pulled your hands away from San, then guiding him to a chair, pushing him in it. “I think,” he said, tapping his chin in faux thought, “that the baby boy doesn’t get to play with mommy for a long time.” You stood where you were, watching Yunho tie San’s arms to the chair with sage green silk rope with expertise, making sure the rope wasn’t too tight and the shears for any emergencies on your dresser for quick access.

Yunho then tied San’s legs to the chair with the same colored silk rope with the same expertise he did with the arms. He took San’s chin and lifted his head to look him in the eyes. “You get to watch daddy fuck mistress without touching yourself, prince. Wanna see if my baby boy can cum without being touched since you’re so eager to disobey us?” San’s breathing visibly sped up in response to Yunho’s words, San’s dick already getting half-hard again at the thought. He nodded his head “yes” vigorously.

Yunho smirked and turned his attention to you, eyes raking over your body, painfully hard in his too-restricting jeans at anticipation of finally getting to fuck you. You met his eyes with the same energy, two dominant forces getting to ravage each other and in front of their shared submissive, no less.

The male stalked over to you and ran his hands up and down your arms, your hands not hesitating to go to his pants and make quick work of his belt and took his dick in your hands. He let out a deep moan, closing his eyes briefly at the contact. He opened his eyes again and hiked up your dress and dived into your panties, rubbing brief circles over your clit and dipping two fingers into your folds. It was your turn to moan, the contact feeling so good after aching for a while.

He took his hand away as you took yours away and you pushed him to the bed, ripping his pants and underwear off. As he laid on his back, you straddled him and rubbed your clothed pussy on his dick, Yunho hissing at the contact. “C’mon, daddy, I know you want to see my tits and play with my nipples,” you taunt, spitting his title at him in mockery. You look over at San whose eyes are completely blown with lust, intently watching the scene play out before him, his arms straining against his restraints and dick now completely hard again.

You look back at Yunho, making eye contact and challenging him to touch you in the way he wanted to. He took the challenge, slipping the sleeves off your shoulders and off your tits, the top half of the dress now hanging below your breasts. He lifted himself up a little, made quick work of your bra clasps, and threw your bra at San on the chair who whined a little in response at the humiliation and want to bury himself in your breasts, not Yunho.

Yunho’s hands went immediately to your breasts, playing with your nipples and drawing out a little moan from you as you continued to grind down on his cock. “It’s a little too quiet for my liking,” Yunho said suddenly, reaching for his phone on the nightstand and turning up the vibrator in San’s ass to high. San let out a yelp and a string of moans at the unexpected stimulation, hips bucking a little and legs straining against the sage green rope, making your pussy even more wet and practically soaking your panties to the point that Yunho couldn’t even hiss at the roughness of the fabric anymore.

“Our baby boy is so adorable, isn’t he?” Yunho asked you, forcing your attention back to him. You took the phone from Yunho’s hand and put it back on the nightstand, leaving San to be tortured by the device and you quickly took off your panties and aligned Yunho’s cock with your entrance.

He smirked at you, debating if he should say what was on the tip of his tongue. He said it anyway. “My my, mommy is eager for my dick.” He spit your title back at you the way you did with him. Just for that, you quickly sunk yourself onto his cock, bouncing immediately and not giving either you time to adjust to his length or him time to adjust to your heat.

Your moans of pleasure and his soon met with San’s and the sound of the vibrator, creating a symphony of sin in Seoul. All titles were forgotten, dominant and submissive roles forgotten by everyone in the chase of release.

San soon came a second time, coating his abdomen in white and moans drowning out the noises of pleasure from you and Yunho. He slumped against the chair, dick still twitching and eyes watering from the overstimulation of the vibrator, drawing out his orgasm and speeding his way to another despite his tiredness. You slowed down to rocking back and forth on Yunho and both you and Yunho turned your attention to San. As the vibrator drew out his third orgasm of the night, he threw his head back with a couple of tears falling from his eyes and staining his cheeks, cock painfully red and he whimpered and whined in response.

Yunho reached for his phone and turned off the vibrator, giving San a chance to catch his breath. After a minute, you asked San, “What color, sweetheart?”

Despite his obvious exhaustion, he managed to smile at you and said, “Green,” in a weak voice.

“Are you sure, baby?” Yunho asked a second time, making sure that San wasn’t pushing himself just to please himself and you.

“I’m….sure,” he barely managed to get out. You immediately got off of Yunho and put the straps of your dress back on your shoulders absentmindedly, carefully untying the ropes and peppering kisses on San where the ropes dug in especially hard. Yunho worked to collect a couple of blankets to make the bed as cozy as possible for San to make him feel safe and loved.

San stood up weakly, leaning heavily on you, and allowing you to drag him to the bed. He laid in between you and Yunho, you petting his head and Yunho gently cleaning his stomach of cum with a baby wipe.

“I said I’m fine, I wanna continue,” San weakly protested.

“No, you’re not, sweety, you can barely get out a sentence and you have tears coming from your eyes,” you responded, “there’s nothing wrong with taking a break if you need it.”

Yunho’s only response was a hum of agreement and a kiss on the forehead for San as he gently took out the vibrator, quickly wiping it down with a baby wipe for easier cleaning tomorrow.

Before he knew it, San fell fast asleep to whispers of praise from you and Yunho. You followed suit, hugging San in your sleep and Yunho shortly after you, trying to hug you both.

#ateez #lemon hours #fem!reader #plussize!reader #tall!reader #dom!reader #sub!idol #sub!ateez #sub!san #dom!yunho

134 notes · View notes

mettlekettle · 4 years

Text

Cock block-Harry Styles x fem!Reader

Hi everyone, i guess this is my entry for @majorharry‘s 20k fic celebration, and its my first piece of writing that I’m posting on tumblr so feedback is really helpful! its not edited because I’m a lazy bitch but,,, it be like that don’t it? I used two prompts, the first one i used accidentally and didn’t realize i did it until i finished lmao. Prompts: 26. “Pay attention to me.” and 35. “If you ever tell anyone about this, I’ll kill you.”

Word Count: 1.8k

Description: y/n and Harry both want to move to the next level in their relationship, but something stops them. (just heartwarming fluff!)

HARRY 💗

hi love, do you want to come over tonight? H.

Y/N

of course, does 7 work?

Harry and y/n’s relationship is relatively new; the two of them met through Mitch and are now inseparable. It’s a calm time in Harry’s life meaning no tours or press, he’s writing his next album and relaxing. He spends practically everyday with y/n, lounging around his LA home, kissing, watching movies and kissing some more. She loves the way he holds her face when he kisses her, eventually moving one of his hands to y/n’s hair. He was always down for a good make out session, but they never really got any closer than that, always facing each other, never pulling her into his lap in fear of making her uncomfortable. Today was a little bit different, y/n is feeling extra needy, craving his lips and his touch. She just wants to melt into his arms.

At seven, like they agreed, y/n arrived at his house. He opens the door for her, he’s wearing a black shirt and grey sweatpants. He smiled at her sweetly before pulling her into a tight hug. y/n instantly relaxed in his grip.

“Hi bunny,” he murmured into her hair, holding her tighter, as if she was gonna disappear. y/n could tell he was feeling the same as her today, clingy and needing attention right away. She ignored his greeting, tucking her face into his neck and mumbling a small

“You always smell so nice,” into his shirt. He chuckled before releasing her. She pouted as he looked down at her, wanting a little more time in his arms.

“Hungry?” he asked, already knowing the answer, “got you a salad, with chickpeas like you like it.” Her pout quickly turned into a smile when he told her that; he always remembers the smallest things about her.

“And boba?” she looked at him from under her lashes, pretty doe eyes that made him weak. Of course he got her a boba, he would get her anything if she asked.

“Really wish you would stop drinking those, they’re full of sugar, love,” he said truthfully. He’s annoyingly healthy in her opinion. Why can’t she have boba if she’s eating a salad for dinner? She voiced her concern out loud. Harry rolled his eyes at his girlfriend.

“Jus’ cause you eat healthy, doesn’t give you a pass to eat copious amounts of sugar y/n” he retorts

“Whatever, you’re so boring, you can enjoy your green juice, and I’ll enjoy my strawberry bubble tea. Can we eat now please?” he sighs and leads his sugar addicted angel to the kitchen where their food, and yes, her bubble tea is.

They talk about their days while eating. Harry mentions a song he’s writing with Mitch and y/n talks about a scandal in her school in which two students were stealing test answers from a teacher and selling them to other kids. She also mentions the 3 vapes she confiscated in class, complaining about how students show her no respect because she’s only a student teacher and she looks quite young.

“Its not like I want to be teaching teenagers anyways, but its still really upsetting, I wish I could have found a job at an elementary school like I wanted.” She sighs. Her degree is in special education. That’s what she’s always wanted to do, but jobs in her field were scarce as schools were getting less and less money every year.

“You’ll find something love, any school would be lucky to have you as a teacher.” he then looked down at his lap and spoke shyly, “you know, if you can’t find a job next September, you could come on tour with me. Only if you want to! Of course I’d take care of you but m’not asking you to give up your dreams or anything, I support you completely in whatever you choose. Be nice to have you w’me all the time though, we could travel the world together. Again, no pressure,” His normally slow drawl became too hard to keep up with as he rushed to fix whatever mistake he thought he’d made. She let out a little giggle before grabbing his hand.

“I’d love to tour with you, I’m glad you’re as serious about our relationship as I am. You’d seriously support me financially if I couldn’t find a job though?” she questioned.

“I’d do anything for you, angel,” he responded before continuing, “ve’got too much money to even know what to do with, I’d spoil you rotten if you’d let me.” She gave him a glare before exclaiming,

“Don’t you dare!” He chuckled and reached out to pinch one of her cheeks.

“Can’t help it that you deserve the world bunny.” Her face became warm as she batted his ringed hands away. She took a long sip of her drink, slurping obnoxiously with her straw to draw attention away from her flustered state. Harry looked at her in amusement, he never got bored with how he could make her squirm, she was just so cute.

“Wanna watch a movie?” y/n questioned to take Harry’s scrutiny off of her heated face, “saw Legally Blonde on Netflix this morning.” He nodded before taking his hand and leading her to the living room. He quickly ran up the stairs to grab her a blanket and a fuzzy pair of socks because she always criticized the chill in his house. When he got back he knelt on the floor to put the socks on her feet, pressing a kiss to her knee before taking a seat next to her and draping the fuzzy blue blanket over them both.

y/n loved how her doted on her. She had never had a serious boyfriend before, most of the boys she had dated didn’t even know how to take care of themselves, let alone her. She smiled at Harry, who was focused on the movie. Harry wasn’t just a boy, he was a man, a really really handsome man who for some reason was into her and wanted to give her anything she wanted, even if that was a large amount of sugar in the form of tapioca bubbles and strawberry slushy goodness.

As Elle Woods faced her first class at Harvard Law, y/n got distracted by Harry. How did she get so lucky? She picked up his large hand that was placed on her lap and started fidgeting with his rings; pulling one off before pushing it back on his finger, then she moved to the next one, pulling it up a bit before twisting it around his pointer finger. Next she pulled the ‘s’ shaped ring off his pinky, inspecting it closely, before once again picking up his hand and pushing the ring back on his finger. When she got bored of her little game, she looked up to see him very invested in the movie and smiled. She leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek

“Thanks love,” he said before turning his attention back to the screen. She frowned at the lack of attention she received. She kissed his cheek again before grabbing his face in her hands and turning him towards her.

“Hi” he murmured.

“Pay attention to me,” y/n demanded. Harry laughed lowly before kissing her head. He grabbed her hands in both of his before leaning down to whisper to her,

“You wan’ my attention?” she nodded quickly, “what do you want me to do?” he questioned.

“Kiss?” she pleaded. He smirked.

“What's the magic word?’ He pressed, placing his hand on her cheek.

“Please?” she said. He smirked at her because he could tell how desperate he was. He pressed his lips to hers in a few short pecks before elongating their kisses. y/n put her hands on his shoulders, fisting his shirt in her hands.

“Y’taste so sweet,” he hummed against her mouth.

“Not too much sugar now, hmm?” she countered

“Sh, jus’ open up f’me,” he demanded before licking the seam of her lips. She instantly opened her mouth, mewling softly when his hand on her cheek went to the back of her head, holding her to him. They lazily kissed for a while, much longer than their usual make out sessions. y/n felt the need to be closer to him, gripping his shoulders tight before swinging her legs over him, now straddling his lap she put her hands in his hair. Harry’s moved to her waist, giving her a little squeeze when she whimpered against him.

This is as far as they’d ever gone, making nervous butterflies flutter in y/n’s stomach, but she didn’t want to stop, she wanted him. She ground herself against the bulge in his pants making Harry let out a groan. Her hands travelled south to his stomach while Harry’s moved up to her ribs, right below her breasts.

He slowly moved so she was under him on the couch kissing down her neck, sucking a hickey into her skin laving his tongue against the mark he made. She pulled him back up to kiss her again. His hands gripped her thighs and pulled them around his hips before grinding roughly against her core. Suddenly. y/n felt a tickle in her nose, quickly she pushed Harry of of her mumbling,

“Get off, get off, get off,” Harry, thinking he had hurt her or made her uncomfortable was quick to rush out words of comfort and guilt,

“M’sorry love, did I hurt you? Didn't mean to pressure you at all.” All y/n did was put a hand out to silence him and make him wait a moment. Abruptly she let out a small sneeze, and then another, and then another. When she was finished she ran the sleeve of her sweater under her nose.

“Didn't want to sneeze on you, sorry,” she spoke up meekly.

“What! I thought I did something wrong?” he yelled. Her cheeks once again warmed as she hurried to reassure him,

“Nonono, I really enjoyed that, we can continue now if you want, I can um, help you out,” she said trying to sound seductive, she moved her hands up his thighs. He caught her hands before she could reach the strings of her sweatpants. Now it was Harry’s turn to flush.

“I uhh, actually, um went soft when I thought I hurt you,” he uttered. She giggled softly, leaning up to kiss him.

“So I guess you’re not a sadist then, huh?” she got out through her laughs.

“Never said that bunny,” he drawled in his deep accent, “ jus’ like to have consent before I inflict pain, wanna know y’like it.” His naughty words quickly shut her up. It seemed he was making her flustered a lot today. He quickly caught her chin in his hand, before jokingly saying,

“Can’t believe you sneezed when we were making out,” he snorted. She pushed his hands away before glaring at him and croaking out,

“If you ever tell anyone about this, I’ll kill you.”

Thank you for reading, hopefully that wasn’t too unbearable! xx.

#majorharry20k #Harry Styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #yes my kink is imagining harry styles calling me bunny #dont judge lmao

383 notes · View notes

milky-pillow · 3 years

Text

Song: Do I Wanna Know? (Arctic Monkeys) Characters: Yumeno Gentaro, Arisugawa Dice, Amemura Ramuda, Reader Relationship(s): Yumeno Gentaro/Reader

originally posted on ao3

“Have you got color in your cheeks? Do you ever get that fear that you can't shift the type, That sticks around like summat in your teeth?”

Gentaro scans your face as you twirl the straw in your cup. With the silence between you two, he finds it hard to read what could be going through your mind.

Before he gets the chance to break the silence, you open your mouth, “it feels like you’ve changed since we’ve last spoken.”

Gentaro’s expression falters for a second before reverting back to his mask. The mask that you oh-so despised. He doesn’t respond immediately, as if trying to put some thought into his response.

“What do you mean?” his voice and smile seemingly taunting you.

“You’re asking me? I mean,” you pause and turn your gaze to the busy crowds of people in the streets, “it’s like you’re trying to avoid me.”

“Me? Avoid you? Why would I?”

“Look, it’s just a feeling. Right, you’re not avoiding me-- at least I hope you’re not. Well, I guess with you and I seeing each other face-to-face helps prove me wrong,” you trail off, bringing your drink to your lips. The sweetness of it satisfies your tongue, no residue being left on your lips as you place the cup down.

Gentaro laughs and taps the table to get your attention, “hey, cheer up! How about we order a cake to eat?”

Gentaro calls over a waiter to order a cake he thinks you’d like while you watch his expression. You repeat to yourself that he’s not avoiding you, that you’re being paranoid, that he wouldn’t purposely put distance between you two. He glances over at you to make sure you’re okay with the flavor, and you respond to his action by nodding with a smile. It warms your heart that he checks with you before ordering.

“I've dreamt about you nearly every night this week, How many secrets can you keep?”

“So,” you begin, breaking the second period of silence, “you’re participating in another division rap battle? I noticed you’ve been busy with Arisugawa and Amemura.”

A snicker escapes his lips as he drums the table with his hands, “you don’t have to call them that, you know. They see you as a friend, not someone of different status.”

Heat creeps it’s way up your face while you stutter, “r-right. Dice and Ramuda then. But you didn’t answer my question; though I take it you are?”

“Mhm,” he hums, pulling out a notebook, “I’ve been preparing for them, but I guess I’ve hit some sort of writer’s block.”

“You? Hit writer’s block? Liar. I don’t believe it,” you laugh as you call out his lie.

He pouts, “okay, so maybe it was. I don’t like how you call it out so easily now. Remember when you fell for everything I said?”

“Honestly, that feels like forever ago,” you give him a soft, yet sad smile, noticing him staring right back at you with a gentle expression.

“(Do I wanna know?) If this feelin' flows both ways?”

Your eyes light up when your long-awaited cake arrives. Drool begins to pool in your mouth as you thank both the waiter and Gentaro. You couldn’t wait to dig in. When your eyes meet Gentaro’s, you feel a sense of disassociation from him. As much as you wanted to dismiss it, you felt yourself becoming attached to the thought that he’s hiding something from you.

You push the cake towards him to share some of it. When he waves his hand to signal he doesn’t want a piece, you place a fork in his hand.

“You really wanna share it with me, huh?” he teases, giving in and taking a slice.

Finishing the slice on your plate, you grin at him, “what? You didn’t want a taste of this delicious food? How’d you know what flavor to pick? This tastes amazing!” While your exclamation draws the attention of some customers around you, your eyes continue to sparkle.

After persistent convincing, Gentaro takes another slice. Your heartbeat accelerates when he meets your eyes with a smile that has never felt so genuine. If you had to guess, he was either really enjoying the cake, or he was getting comfortable. Feeling accomplished, you helped yourself to your drink and another small slice.

“Woah, what’s the sudden burst of energy from?” Gentaro touches your hand to get you to slow your pace.

You lift your fork halfway to your mouth, stopping to respond, “no reason.”

Gentaro can only shrug, knowing how stubborn you can get when he tries to pry.

“Crawlin' back to you Ever thought of callin' when You've had a few? 'Cause I always do”

By the end of the evening, you had a takeaway box of a half-eaten cake and a smile plastered on your face. The both of you walked out the building side-by-side, catching up about things you had in common. You enjoyed yourself so much, you forgot to ask Gentaro what he thought.

“Um, Gentaro?” you change the subject by posing your question, “knowing you’re busy and all, when would I get to see you again?”

Teasingly, he sticks out his tongue, “when either of us choose to reach out I guess? Kidding, I’ll give you a call to let you know when I’m free.”

You could sense his lie, but you didn’t want to start an argument by mentioning it. Before he could tell you he was lying, you split off with him and rushed back to your apartment.

You could only imagine what could happen between the two of you. With a wave of emotions hitting you from a blind spot, you lay in bed and ponder to yourself. Becoming bored of the plain white ceiling, you turn to your side to reach for a drink, only to find you’ve run out.

A sigh escapes your lips as you head to get a cup of juice for yourself. You lean against your kitchen counter and stare at the paintings that filled your blank walls. The colors look more blended together than usual, the cold tones screaming out to you. Tearing your eyes away, you opt to look out your window. Though your scenery was filled with other buildings and streetlights, the view of the sunset was still visible. For a brief moment, your lonely heart felt a little less lonely.

“So have you got the guts? Been wonderin' if your heart's still open And if so, I wanna know what time it shuts”

Ring! Ring! Ring!

It was your phone. Ring! Of course it was. Ring! Ring! Broken from your distraction, you place your cup down and bring your phone to your ears. With a simple tap, you were connected with the caller.

“Hello?” out of habit, the word slips right out.

“Y/n!” Ramuda excitedly beams, “you were just with Gentaro, right?”

“Yeah, why? Is he okay?”

“Of course, of course! I was just asking is all,” he seems to be holding back laughter. He covered his microphone and all you can hear is muffled bickering.

You sip on your juice while you wait for more, but when you don’t, you speak up, “um, Ra- Ramuda?”

Just as you speak, the call disconnects. Confusion seeps through your skin and into your very soul. Unable to connect the dots, you head to bed.

In the morning, you wake to a string of messages and missed calls. This rarely happens. No, this never happens. Squinting your eyes due to the light of your screen, you read the texts. They were all sent from Gentaro, but it was hard to tell whether or not he was the sender as it had gone back and forth between “sorry, that wasn’t me” to “that was a lie; it was me.” All of the missed calls were also from Gentaro, but you start to find it hard to believe he was the caller.

Testing your luck, you call back.

“Y/n! You finally picked up!”

“Gentaro?”

“Nope, this is Dice!”

“Oh,” you attempt to hide your disappointment with a question, “why do you have Gentaro’s phone? Not to sound rude, but I’m sort of confused.”

Ramuda snatches the phone from Dice and greets you, “mornin’ y/n! Could you come over? We want to talk to you about something. I promise it’s not anything bad! I’ll send the address to our office on this phone.”

“Hold on,” you blurt out before he can end it, “why can’t we talk about it over the phone? I mean, do- do I really have to go over there? Not that I can’t, but if it’s important it’s quicker over the phone, right?”

“Look, no time to explain. Just,” Ramuda takes a deep breath, “do it for me? If not then for Gentaro.”

Beep! Beep! Beep!

He ends the call before you could protest anymore. Seconds later, your phone dings with the address Ramuda was expecting you to go to. Who are you to displease a member of Fling Posse-- and even an ex-member of The Dirty Dawgs?

“I don't know if you feel the same as I do But we could be together if you wanted to”

Hesitance filled your body, heart pounding against your chest and filling your ears. With trembling hands, you open the door to Fling Posse’s office.

The moment you step inside, Dice and Ramuda stand up in excitement, “you came!”

“Of- of course,” you stutter in embarrassment, mentally scolding yourself for your stuttering.

They gesture for you to take a seat, and so you do. Sitting back down, their happy expressions falter. The acceleration of your heart rate doesn’t make you feel any better than you were already feeling.

“Let me get straight to the point, we need your help,” Ramuda says, not getting straight to the point.

Out of nervousness, you burst into uncomfortable laughter, “m- my help? I’m of no use to you, trust me, but what would you need me for?”

“Well, we just need you for one smallllll thing,” Dice chimes. They go on to explain that they need you to get Gentaro to be more open.

Ramuda claps his hands together, “so that’s the plan!”

You shake your head so much it felt as if your brain was going to shatter, “no way! I- I can’t ju- just do that! He’ll know something’s up for sure!”

“If it’s you, there’s no way he will,” he smirks at you.

Knowing you won’t be able to get out of the situation, you agree to follow the plan, “on one condition, though. You can’t make me do anything like this again.”

“Deal,” Dice and Ramuda simultaneously nod their heads.

“(Baby, we both know) That the nights were mainly made For sayin' things that you can't say tomorrow day”

“Thanks for meeting up with me, I hope you weren’t busy or anything,” Gentaro smiles at you.

Your face burns as you take a seat and look around, “of course not, but this is definitely, uh, new?”

Cocking an eyebrow, Gentaro crosses his arms, “am I not allowed to invite you out?”

“You know what I mean. This fancy restaurant has nobody? It’s unusual. Also, I thought you originally invited Ramuda and Dice.”

“Hey, don’t look at me like that. I heard this place was good and I was able to snag us spots. Ramuda and Dice couldn’t make it, so I opted for you; is that bad?”

“It’s not bad, but spots? The whole place is empty.”

Gentaro raises his hands guiltily while chuckling quietly, “you caught me. I may or may not have pulled some strings, but that doesn’t matter, does it?”

Liar. With no energy to call him out for his lie, you both order your food and eat in silence. While silence can be comforting, you felt like you had to talk. An uneasy feeling begins to settle in your stomach as you try to drown it with your food.

“Maybe I'm too (Maybe I'm too busy) Busy bein' yours (Bein' yours) To fall for somebody new”

Though you both made small talk throughout the night, time didn’t seem to pass. But whether you believe it or not, you were both in the back of a taxi heading to your apartment. Not for him to go into, but for him to make sure you would make it back safely.

“I got lucky being able to see you two days in a row,” you can’t stop yourself from smiling as you gaze out the window.

“Am I just that amazing?” Gentaro’s response makes you laugh. How is it that you’re enjoying the ride back? You can’t believe yourself and hope it doesn’t make you appear rude.

You nod and turn your head to look at him. He is amazing and you know that. If he was planning on doing this for his friends, he definitely sees you the same way he sees them. Nonetheless, you take in the moment and could only wish for what could be.

“Do you want me crawlin' back to you?”

END.

#songfic #one shot #hypnosis mic #hypmic #fling posse #yumeno gentaro #arisugawa dice #amemura ramuda #gentaro x reader #gender neutral reader

17 notes · View notes

messagefromtheveins · 4 years

Text

2:49am

A/N: I actually planned to post something completely different, but instead I was suddenly hit by CEO feels. So... there’s that.

Words: 1.4k

Pairing: Sebastian/Reader

He heard you long before you appeared in his field of vision. The penthouse apartment was so quiet that he had heard the bedroom door crack open upstairs, followed by the quiet pitter patter of your bare feet descending the stairs. Casting a quick glance at the time, he took a deep breath and lifted a hand to rub it over his unshaven face. 2:49am. He knew you would give him hell for this.

He took his gaze off the computer screen as your footsteps approached the study right before you appeared in the doorway. His heart seemed to swell in an instant. Standing there in one of his old T-shirts from college that didn't fit him anymore, you were sleepily squinting against the bright light while you entered the room. "Sebastian," you whined, drawing his name out in a way that made him chuckle lowly.

He turned his fancy leather chair as you approached him, his hands reaching for you and grasping your waist as soon as you were close enough. "I'm sorry," he murmured before you could even start, but you did anyway.

"You said you'd come join me in a few when I told you that I was going to bed," you complained, yet followed his guiding hands and settling down on his strong thighs. His arms wrapped around you in a protective grip, cradling you to his chest. "That was almost three hours ago," you mumbled out through a yawn.

"I know, baby. I'm sorry," he murmured, keeping his voice low and soothing in hopes of keeping you from getting angry at him- even though he knew that you had every right to. He had been flooded with work these past few weeks and your relationship had suffered quite a bit because of it. You had gone to bed alone more times than he liked to think about and his heart had ached every time he ended up crawling into bed in the early morning hours to find you hugging his pillow to your chest.

He gave you a soft smile as you cupped his face in your hands, your sleepy eyes silently studying his features. "You know I'm so proud of you for being so successful with your own company," you whispered, your thumbs caressing his cheeks.

"But I have to sleep more than four hours a night," he continued your sentence, mirroring the wide grin you gave him.

"So you actually are listening to me," you teased, receiving a soft chuckle from him.

"Always," he whispered and leaned in closer. One of his hands slid to rest on your bare thigh while he placed a lingering kiss on your forehead, his eyes briefly squeezing shut before he opened them again and pulled back to look at you. "I promise work is going to return back to normal soon. And then I'll make up for all the times I had to cancel date nights."

Sighing deeply, you shook your head. "You don't need to make up for it. I'm fine on my own, you know? I know that work is important and that I'm sometimes put on the back burner-"

"Honey, you're not put on the back burner. Don't say stuff like that," his voice was pleading, his heart heavy in his chest.

"You know what I mean," you gave him a warm smile that only made him feel slightly better. "What I'm trying to say is, I know that sometimes work ruins something we have planned or just keeps you from having a lazy night with me. And I'm okay with that, I really am. But I'm not okay with you getting not enough sleep and running on ten cups of coffee a day."

"That's highly exaggerated," he sighed with a grin.

"Is it, though?" you responded, but continued before he could answer. "How about you turn that computer off for tonight and come to bed with me? And in the morning we'll figure out if I can help you with this in any way. Even if it's just organizing your emails."

Just five more minutes. It lingered on his tongue, but he couldn't say it out loud. Not with your hopeful eyes silently pleading with him. Not when you grinned in victory when he gave in, looking like you had just achieved the greatest thing in life.

His computer was turned off with two clicks and with that the two of you were on your way upstairs.

He rushed through the process of brushing his teeth, the taste of minty toothpaste still lingering on his tongue as he stepped out of the bathroom and stopped in his movements. This was something he had missed a lot over the last couple of days- having you waiting up for him, buried under the covers. A fond smile played on your lips while you reached a hand out to him, silently begging him to join you.

The room was bathed in darkness as he flicked the bathroom light off, his feet carrying him towards the bed on autopilot. The sheets rustled and the bedsprings briefly creaked as he settled down beside you, bodies automatically curving and curling around the others. A soft giggle fell from your lips as he shifted down and nuzzled his face against your chest, one of your hands caressing the back of his head.

A sound that was close to a purr rumbled in his chest. "Everything okay?" you whispered, his head nodding.

"Mhm," he hummed and let his hands slip beneath your- his- T-shirt, one hand coming to rest on your lower back while the other settled on your butt. "Jus' missed this a lot," he mumbled, thumb brushing back and forth over the soft cotton of your panties. "Missed you," he added in a breathy voice, your lips curving into a soft smile.

Placing a tender and lingering kiss on his head, you nuzzled your nose against his soft hair. He noticed the way you relaxed against him and hoped that you were falling asleep. His fingers didn't stop tracing back and forth, knowing that little touches like that were usually enough to lull you to sleep.

His eyes were closed and he faintly felt your steady heartbeat, and yet his mind was going a thousand miles an hour. He was so deep in thought, trying to find a way to get all the work done while still trying to find some time for you, when your soft voice cut through the silence, almost startling him. "What's wrong?" you mumbled, your fingers carding through his hair before your nails gently scratched his scalp in a way that gave him goosebumps.

"I thought you were asleep," he sighed and wriggled further up until his head rested on the pillow right in front of yours, so close that your foreheads almost touched.

"Not when you're constantly fidgeting around," you whispered, moving a hand to lightly caress the side of his face. "You're thinking about work, aren't you?"

Taking a deep breath, he stayed silent and kept his eyes closed, not bothering to look as you shifted and put a bit more distance between your bodies. At this point he was just waiting for you to get really mad at him. A loud gasp fell from his lips as a pillow hit the side of his head, his eyes ripping open to find you grinning at him through the darkness. "Hey!" he exclaimed, though couldn't stop himself from chuckling.

"I'll give you 10 minutes to finish whatever it was you were working on when I came downstairs, Mr. CEO. If you're not finished within that time I'm coming to drag your ass back to bed."

With that you turned your back to him, a position you always slept in when he was gone on business trips. He knew you hated to see the empty side of the bed. His first instinct was to climb out of bed and rush downstairs, but before he even moved an inch he stopped himself. His gaze was trained on you for several seconds, his heart heavy in his chest.

He heard the surprised sound that left your lips as he closed the gap between your bodies and pushed his chest up against your back, arms tightly wrapping around you. You didn't say a word though, simply reached for his hand on your chest and laced your fingers through his while he placed a soft kiss on the back of your neck. "I'll finish it in the morning," he murmured, leaving a few tender kisses along your shoulder, "right now you're the main priority."

Forever and Ever Taglist: @waitonmedarling @hugefangirl-22 @evansweaters @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @ultradreamologistblog @justanotherfangurl272 @my-elevenoutof10 @disaster-rose @kellymat @anncutamarica @meg-holland

S.Stan Taglist: @devilsexual

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan blurb #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan au #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan fic #sebastian stan writing #sebastian stan x reader #writing

338 notes · View notes

jojparasol · 4 years

Text

adore you

Okay it’s safe to say I was supposed to be writing this in inspiration of ‘cherry’ but i completely forgot and by the end, i based it on adore you instead soooo... Anyways, this will probably be a series that is connected through the song but not the stories if that makes any sense???? But this is now in celebration of adore you and i’ll most likely make a masterlist after a few more. Also, i haven’t answered any of my asks from months ago about the silver springs series so i apologise for not doing so, i’ll try be more active! Enjoy x

The one where Harry wants her, even after their breakup.

Word count: 1.6k

Angst and a smidgen of fluff

She answered the ringing phone across her room, stretching her body as she reached out for the vibrating device. Her eyebrows furrowed, looking at the five-letter name that filled the screen with no contact photo.

Harry.

Y/N let the phone ring, watching and counting in her head the number of times she let it ring.

One. Two. Three.

And it ended like that. She grabbed her phone, unlocking it before going to her missed calls, his contact name spread at the top of the screen. Her lips pointed to one side, wondering if he would call again or maybe she would.

God, she hasn’t seen that contact in forever. Of course, she’s seen the name, with the tabloids and social media where he’d sometimes pop up in her notifications if she posted, but it wasn’t too unusual. They ended off on good terms, she likes to think... But a piece of her knows the breakup wasn’t fair, with Y/N leaving him abruptly and it was safe to say that they both ended up in tears. Especially Harry - he didn’t want to break up with her at all but they concluded with Harry respecting her decision to leave. He reminded himself to be the man his mother raised him. She wanted to leave, not being able to handle the pressure of dating such a man and being too afraid. Heck, he even proclaimed his love for her, insisting she didn’t have to say it back but his plans never work out the way he desires. And so Harry’s dreams were set fire by fiends.

Her thumb unconsciously tapped the screen and before she knew it, the phone was vibrating again but it was her turn to call. Unlike her response, he answered almost straight away.

It connected but silence filled the phones, only small sounds of rustling on the other side before a cough emitted through her speaker.

“Y/N?”

He sounded tired. His voice raspy, the one word said as if her name was delicate, rolling off his tongue with a simple stride. Harry missed saying her name, not that he called her by it much since he loved nicknames. But when he did, it toured him back to the first time they met, only calling her by her name before slowly introducing endearing terms that made her heart feel warm.

“Hi,” she let out a quick breath, closing her eyes as darkness blurred her vision.

“You answered.”

Opening her eyes, she held her breath before releasing, a shaking fan of air gasped from her lips.

“Did you need anything?” She asked, wanting to get straight to the point because if they dwelled along, the string would get tangled.

“I-I miss you. Y/N, please come over, jus’ for tonight,” he murmured barely above a whisper but she could hear the desperation lacing in his tone. Y/N ran her tongue across her teeth, slightly touching her lips as she looked outside her window.

“Are you okay Harry?”

“Please Y/N,” he ignored her question, almost begging on his knees. He missed everything — from her presence to her smile. “Jus’ one more night.”

Y/N barely heard his last words, her mind hitting hard against her goose-bumped skin, contemplating what she should do. Her love for Harry was crawling back up into the present, tugging on her heartstrings to just say yes. “Harry, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“You breaking up with me wasn’t a good idea yet here we are.”

She frowned at his salty remark, knowing he wasn’t kidding and it was half true. Fumbling with her words, she let out an answer.

“Okay.”

When she ended the call, she didn’t realise how dark it was outside. Of course, she knew that it was late afternoon but the sun seemed to say goodbye a little earlier than usual. Nevertheless, she drove to the address that was imprinted in her mind like an instinct. Y/N wasn’t gonna lie when she pulled up into his driveway, she was hesitant to come out, almost wanting to steer her wheel back to the traffic. But she mentally slapped herself, dragging her body to the front porch and knock at his door. And when it opened, she almost wanted to cry.

Harry looked beautiful — maybe even more than usual, probably because there was a part of her that realised the absence of his being hurt her more than it should. His face was unshaven, scuffed and a little rough. His hair all messed and tousled while the only piece of clothing were sweatpants and a lavender robe that gave a sneak peek of his tattoos. His eyes were sunken as if all the forest colours were sucked out, filled with an undertone of grey that lacked life. Yet, Y/N still found him as gorgeous as ever.

“Y/N.” God. She was wrong when she thought that Harry saying her name over her phone sounded heavenly, she forgot what he sounded in real life. Y/N wasn’t able to speak, Harry beating her to it. “Come in.”

She nodded her head, following him through the living room as he sat down on the couch. A wave of memories rushed through her mind before she blanked out. “Harry, you don’t look okay.”

He let out a chuckle, thinking it was the most obvious thing ever. “No shit.”

Y/N simply shook her head, leading herself towards the kitchen to prepare themselves a cup of tea, knowing it was what he needed.

“You don’t need to do this Y/N.” She heard his voice come closer as she turned around from the counter, watching him take a seat in front of the island.

Y/N rubbed her hand against her temple. “Then what do you want from me?”

She was left with silence, letting out a frustrated sigh as she turned around, grabbing two mugs and pouring the newly brewed tea. Harry watched her intently, every action observed and noted in his memory. And to be honest, he didn’t even know exactly what he wanted from her — all he knew was that he just wanted her.

“How’s your life, Y/N?” What exactly was he trying to do? He didn’t want to know the basic bullshit of her life, he wanted something more and it seemed like both of them knew that.

Y/N let out a laugh, handing him the cup of tea as he gave thanks. She sat down next to him on the stool and took a small sip off of her cup. “Cut it, Harry.”

“Okay well, got any new guys?” He joked, taking a big sip of his beverage that warmed through the midst of their talking.

It was then that he noticed that she stayed silent. Almost too silent.

“Holy fuck.” He stood up abruptly, walking around the kitchen counter before rummaging through the cupboard as Y/N panicked.

“Harry, it’s not serious.” She watched as he kept shaking his head in detail, taking out a bottle of wine and pouring it into a tall glass. “We’re not even together, H.”

“B-but it’s only been a few months, Y/N!” He almost shouted, her whole body shifting immediately at his tone. “Fuck, I miss you so much.” His whole demeanour seemed to change, sobbing the last words out of his mouth, the glass of wine almost finished as he gulped it down within seconds. He continued repeating the same phrase and Y/N felt frozen, unbeknownst to the fire his heart was feeling in that moment. Publicly admitting his words made everything the mile more real.

He missed her, more than anything. He craved those small moments with her. From the one time, they stayed through the summer sky and into the night on her couch, their bodies filled with junk food as they cuddled up into each other, leaving little to no space for anything else. Or the one time that Y/N woke up in the middle of the night, begging Harry to take her to the nearest 24 hours McDonald's for a sundae. And although reluctant, by the time they were there, Harry’s pinkie finger was covered in ice cream, slathering it onto her nose as Y/N carelessly left kisses all over his face. And did he mention that her kisses were like a strawberry lipstick state of mind? It was those moments he craved. It gave him pure bliss, never feeling connected to the woman more than anyone in the world like he had just walked into her rainbow paradise. He was head over heels completely infatuated.

By the time tears were escaping, Y/N had rushed towards him, her arms wrapping around his figure. He hugged back the instant he felt the familiar embrace, his head nestling into her neck as he continued mumbling how much he missed her.

“I missed you too.” She tightened the grip around them, almost tearing up herself again. They stood still for a silent minute just to bathe in each other’s presence and collect their hurt. But it was when Harry spoke up that they slightly let go, their face only inches away.

“Would you believe it? Would you believe that I’d do anything for you? Probably walk through fire for you. You don’t even have to be mine for me to do all that,” he breathed out as Y/N nodded profusely, their lips almost touching.

But she moved her head a little backwards, giving her enough space to wipe the stray tears that left Harry’s tired eyes, feeling the softness of his skin against her thumb before pulling away. “I know.”

Harry drawing her a tiny bit closer as he pressed a chaste kiss on her forehead. He looked into her eyes, getting lost like he did the first time he saw her. It was then that Harry knew just what he wanted from her.

“Just let me adore you.”

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff

345 notes · View notes

scapegrace74-blog · 4 years

Text

Saorsa, Chapter 27

A/N Here is the next installment of Saorsa. Jamie finally acknowledges what we knew all along, and Claire takes a bath.

Rather than link to all previously posted chapters, I’ll just direct those of you wanting to catch up on your Saorsa-reading to my AO3 page, where the fic is posted in its entirety.

Thank you to each of you liking and reblogging! It does my little fanfic writer’s heart good.

Shearing sheep hadn’t changed much in two hundred years, Jamie thought as he hefted another startled ewe from the shearing pen and pinned her to the ground with a well-placed knee. Murtagh mentioned that some of the larger farms used a mechanical trimmer, but they both preferred the time-honoured method of metal shears, sharp as daggers. Today was their third day. Jamie’s shoulders and arms were throbbing from the constant effort, but they were almost done.

“Tis good fortune we’re having a bonnie spring,” Murtagh commented as they broke for a drink of fresh water from the well.

“Aye. I need tae be on the road wi’in the week, if I’m tae be back a’fore the bairn arrives.”

“I’m surprised the mistress is allowin’ ye tae go at all, wi’ the way she fusses o’er ye like a wee whelp.”

Jamie’s mouth opened and closed, trying to find words to defend his masculine honour against the truth in the old man’s claim. He caught the twitch of Murtagh’s lips through his heavy beard. He cuffed him on the shoulder, laughing at himself.

“She’s lining ‘er nest, ye ken. I reckon she needs me tae practice upon, a’fore the we’un gets here,” he quipped.

“Oh, aye. I’m sure tha’s it.” Murtagh’s sarcasm was so thick, you could serve it on toast.

Jamie groaned as he lowered himself into the armchair in their bedchamber, trying to reach down to untie his laces and failing miserably.

“Here, let me,” Claire offered, before realizing she couldn’t bend over the growing bulk of her belly.

“We’re a fine pair. I’m too lame and ye’re too big a’bout the middle.”

“Speak for yourself,” his wife retorted as she carefully lowered herself to the floor. She gently eased off each boot, then proceeded to unbutton and draw his trews down as well. He sighed and cupped her jaw as she began to gently knead the bunched muscles of his thighs.

“Careful, Sassenach. Ye wouldna want tae start somethin’ ne’er of us is in fit condition tae finish,” he warned, feeling himself stir despite his bone-deep exhaustion.

“Wouldn’t I?” Warm eyes gleamed up at him. And then, more gently, “Lean back.”

Unsure what was being asked of him, he complied by letting his back fall against the cushions, his long legs stretched on either side of where Claire knelt on the floor. Having never accustomed himself to the modern notion of underclothing, he was naked from the waist down and hardening quickly below the flimsy hem of his linen top.

Leaning forward so that her moist breath seeped between the buttons of his shirt and over the fine hairs of his belly, Claire began to run her hands languorously up and down his legs, reaching higher with each pass.

“Sassenach,” he warned, and then more urgently, “Claire.”

“Shhhh,” she whispered, before her fingertips brushed against his baws.

“Christ!”

“I’ve never done this before,” she murmured, as though speaking to herself. “Tell me if… well… if it doesn’t feel good.”

And before he could wonder what she meant, she was lifting his shirt, exposing his very emphatic endorsement of whatever she was planning. A tentative moist swipe against the head, where it lay aching against his quivering belly, and then a sensation unlike anything he’d ever experienced. It was the humid welcome of her sex combined with the nimble manipulation of her fine-boned hand, and yet so much more than the sum of those parts. A lightning bolt of sensation shot up his spine, lighting the back of his eyeballs with colourful explosions. A senseless groan burst from his lungs.

Between the exertions of shearing and the elaborate logistics of making love to a woman almost eight months with child, it had been nearly a week since he’d last lain with his wife. A lifetime, in the bountiful feast that marked their newborn marriage. He wasn’t certain it would have made much difference, though. Anything that felt this absurdly good was certain to be over soon, lest it kill him with pleasure.

As it was, it was mere minutes after first feeling her mouth around him before he knew the end was nigh.

“A dhia. Sassenach. Mo nighean donn. Christ, please, ye must…”

Whatever pleas he was trying to utter were lost to the onrush of his release, racing from his body with the force of a gale, whipping around to slam his head backwards as he groaned in blissful agony.

When he was next able to focus, Claire was carefully unbuttoning his shirt. She extended her hands so that he could help her to her feet. He rose as well, naked and blushing to the tips of his ears. Whatever had just happened, he felt compelled to apologize, if only he could do so without alluding to the actual event.

“Sassenach…” he began.

“Let’s get you washed up, shall we? It’s been a long day.”

He was still new to the art of reading his wife’s unspoken wishes, but this one was plain enough. She did not want to discuss or debate the propriety of what they’d just done, probably a bit shy herself. They would leave it here in the murky shadows of their bedchamber, where it could visit with the other nameless wonders they’d released inside its walls. He followed her docilely from the room.

One modern amenity Jamie had absolutely no qualms about embracing was indoor plumbing, and the associated boon of having a bath whenever a bath was needed or desired. Claire lit thick-trunked tapers in the washroom, formerly a servant’s room adjacent to the laird’s quarters. Bent over the billows of steam that rose from the gushing copper pipes, she reminded him of a painting of a water nymph he’d seen as a boy, all translucent skin and bonnie curls.

He gingerly lifted his legs over the high-backed tub and grimaced as the water seared his skin.

“Too hot?”

“Nah. Jus’ right.” He extended his hand gallantly, as though assisting a lady from her carriage. “Join me?” he offered, before adding, “If ye dinna think it immoral.”

Something about the scene struck them both as a trifle ridiculous, and they snickered.

Claire slipped her nightgown over her shoulders, letting it puddle around her feet, before carefully stepping into the water, holding onto Jamie for balance.

“Now what?” she challenged, eyebrow raised.

“Now I hold onto ye. Ye and the little one.” They sunk together into the steaming water.

She found a resting spot between his legs, forehead tucked under his jaw. Jamie amused himself by scoping up palmfuls of water and letting them loose to roam across the hills and valleys of her torso. Time slowed, as did the vigilant beating of his heart. The water cooled and one by one the tapers guttered, and still they did not move. It was in those peaceful moments, with nothing but the silky stroke of water, the honey whiff of candle wax and the quiet stirrings of a new life beneath the taut skin of her belly, that he realized he loved her. Not in the demure, fitting way that a man was meant to love his wife. But in a pivotal, essential way that was as integral to him as breathing and as endless as the tides.

“Ye’ll watch o’er her? Make certain she is no’ rebuildin’ the castle nor tilling the fields by hand, or whate’er stubborn notion settles in her hard heid?”

Murtagh had heard this request, or others very similar, every day for the past fortnight. It spoke to his forbearance that he produced his standard response without a flicker of exasperation.

“Aye, lad. I canna promise ye she willna be stubborn, but I’ll see her safe.”

It was the best he could hope for, and the primary reason Murtagh was staying behind at Lallybroch rather than accompanying Jamie on his journey to Galashiels, much to Claire’s vocal displeasure. She only acquiesced when it was agreed that Rupert would join him as far as Edinburgh, ostensibly to visit relatives. Jamie had an opinion on the true reason for Rupert’s sudden interest in leaving the Highlands for the first time, but he wouldn’t be sharing it with Murtagh.

Fourteen bales of wool were loaded carefully into the estate’s hay wagon. Weighing over a tonne, it would take both Clydesdale plow horses to drag the load over two hundred miles to Galashiels, near the border with England. Rupert would drive the wagon while Jamie rode his favourite horse, Donas.

The smoothest, most direct route southward was available to them only after nightfall, when motorized traffic was forbidden on the roadways on account of the blackout. That meant they’d do most of their travelling by night, which posed its own challenges. In addition to a small bag of provisions and spare clothing, Jamie was also armed with a dirk and a pistol, though he longed for the familiar heft of his broad sword.

The whole trip should take two fortnights, a little less than a month. The plan was to leave immediately after Easter, so he could be home by late April with time to spare before the Duke of Sandringham’s visit and Claire’s confinement.

In the early morning hours the day before his departure, Jamie crept out of the castle while everyone was still abed and walked up the hill to his parents’ graves. He was pleased to note that the exertion no longer winded him; that he had regained his previous strength. He owed that to Claire; that and so much more. She had given him back his freedom when he thought he was trapped in amber. Offered him a place to stand when every other foothold was lost. She was his redemption. Saorsa.

He knelt beside the graves, now cleaned of moss with bluebells sprouting between the stones. Resting his forehead against the cool stone, he began to pray. That Claire might be safe. That the bairn be healthy. That his voyage be swift and without peril. And selfishly, that he be the kind of man his parents would be proud of in this strange new world.

#my writing #outlander

36 notes · View notes

turning-dreams-into-chaos · 4 years

Text

Banished (Part 28)

*Not My Gif*

Summary: When the 100 was sent to the ground, Y/N Y/L/N was one of them. Having been locked up for almost 8 years, how will she react to surviving on Earth? Especially when she gets banished…

Post Date: 12-13-19

Paring: Bellamy Blake x Reader

Word Count: 3.2K

~Master~

~Banished Master~

*Based off episode 2x15 of The 100, Blood Must Have Blood (Part 1)

Since you thought you saw your mom, you’ve been trying to take it easy. You wanted to be here. You needed to be here, but everything seemed to be going a million miles a minute. The Grounders hadn’t made your life any easier, neither had seeing your dead mom though. You didn’t know what was happening but no matter how much you tried to shake off the feeling and thoughts, it just didn’t work and you found yourself thinking more and more about Mount Weather.

Clarke caught on quickly. She was shocked her mom even allowed you to leave Camp Jaha after the injuries you’ve endured without a proper check up. But here you were. And something was up.

Your non-stitched leg bounced against the ground as you fixated on your mom sitting by the fire in front of you. Her eyes met yours with for a split second before Clarke tapped your shoulder, pulling your attention away as you jumped.

“Are you okay?” She asked as you looked back to your mom, only for her to have disappeared once again. You let out a shaky breath and plastered on a smile.

“Yeah. Everything’s great.” You lied as Clarke took the spot next to you, eying your leg and the bruises that had formed across your collarbone from the building.

She shook her head. “My mom shouldn’t have let you leave.”

“Yeah, didn’t really give her much of a choice.” Lexa caught your attention as Stg. Miller walked into the camp, a container of hydrazine in his hands. “Let’s go, Lexa wants us.” You stood up as you wavered. Clarke was on her feet, holding you up as her eyes widened.

“Y/N, you need to get checked out, if not for your blood loss then for your head. I think you have a concussion.” You ignored her concern as you moved towards Lexa. “You can’t do this.”

“You’re not in charge of me. You’re not my leader Clarke.” You snapped, spinning on your heel to face her. Clarke looked away from you, her jaw locking.

“I’m saying this as a friend Y/N.”

You scoffed and bit your lip. “Yeah, you aren’t much of that either.” Her eyes dropped to the floor. “You let a bomb drop on my head. And Octavia’s, your mom, Kane, Indra. You didn’t even try to save us.”

“That’s not true.” Her voice cracked as she held back a layer of tears. You looked at her, the face of a girl regretful of her choices as you took a seat again. Clarke felt hopeful as she joined you, pulling her knees up to her chest.

“I need to do this Clarke. I need to be a part of this fight.” You whispered. It felt like years before Clarke looked at you, her tears finally settled against her eyelids.

“Why?”

You took in a deep breath as you and Clarke stood up, moving towards Lexa’s tent. “I’m tired of being the reason why people die. I... I want to save someone.” Clarke understood completely. After everything, killing people was the last thing she wanted to do. But if that was how she was going to save her friends, then so be it.

You walked into the tent with Clarke, but you moved to stand on the other side of Lexa before Sgt. Miller entered. They gave Clarke the hydrazine, apologizing for Abby’s absence before Clarke said it was fine.

“The wounded in Tondc need her more.” She glanced at you which went unnoticed by all but you and Lexa. David walked away as the field commanders circled around the table in front of you.

“Today’s the day we get our people back.” Lexa announced, getting everyone’s attention. “The enemy thinks they are safe behind their door and they’re not. When realize that, they will fight back. Hard.”

Clarke looked down at the map of the mountain. “This is a rescue mission. We are not here to wipe them out. There are people inside that mountain that have helped us, children who have nothing to do with this war. We kill their soldiers, their leadership if we have to, but we are there to rescue our people. Is that clear?” Mumbles came from everyone as they agreed to Clarke’s conditions. “Good. Then let’s begin.” She explained the plan with the 4 groups, Raven and Wick go to the Dam, Indra and Octavia leading through the mines, Bellamy and the Grounders in Mount Weather, and Clarke, Lexa, and you by the front door. “According to Maya, the electromagnetic locking system has one flaw. When the power goes out, it disengages. That's where Raven's team comes in. The mountain's electricity is generated at Philpott Dam. By now, they've taken the turbine room.” Clarke told you all about Raven and Wick who were supposed to blow the power.

“There is a catch.”

Of course there was, you thought.

“A backup generator inside the mountain. If the lock is still functioning when that backup power kicks in, we'll never get that door open, we'll never get our people back.”

“How long do we have before Backup power kicks in?” You asked as you crossed your arms, stepping closer to the map.

Clarke sighed. “One minute. That’s the window.” You nodded slowly. You weren’t sure if this was going work. Even if everything went perfectly, one minute was a hard deadline. David agreed with your thoughts and suggested having Bellamy do it, but Clarke shook her head. “Leaving them without power that long would kill them. And besides, we lost contact with Bellamy.”

“What?” You glared at her, obviously not getting that memo. “When?”

“After he took out the fog.” She admitted and frowned, her head tilting apologetically. You scoffed, forgetting the other people in the room.

“You weren’t going to tell me?” You asked as Lexa grabbed your shoulder.

“Bellamy’s a warrior. He’ll be fine.” She tried to convince you as you stopped glaring at Clarke.

“He better be.” You muttered to yourself. Lexa heard you but made no indication as Clarke moved on and finished explaining the plan.

When she was done, Lexa stepped up, looking everyone in their eyes as she made her final speech. “The mountain has cast a shadow over these woods for too long. They've hunted us, controlled us, turned us into monsters. That ends today. Thanks to our alliance with the Sky People, the mountain will fall. As Clarke said, we spare the innocent. As for the guilty... Jus dren just daun.”

The grounders chanted the words over and over again and Clarke joined in, but you couldn’t. All you could think about was the possibility of Bellamy in Mount Weather and you no longer have contact with him. What if he was caught? What if he was already gone and you had no idea.

Losing this war was not an option.

You flickered your sights to the corner of the room, the sun filtered in through the rip of the tents as your breathing picked up and your mom stood there once again.

Why? Why was she always there?!

“Y/N?” Lincoln came up next to you, his hand landing on the small of your back but you didn’t look at him. “Y/N.”

“What?” You finally pulled your eyes away and looked at him. He narrowed his eyes and looked where you had been staring off but saw nothing.

“Bellamy will be fine.” He wasn’t sure what caused your worries but he assumed it involved Bellamy’s safety. “Come on. Let’s talk.” He lead you outside, away from the masses before you both sat against two trees, looking at each other.

Neither of you said anything as you sat in each other’s comfort, listening to the calls of the grounders around you. Your eyes were shut as you stared into the sky and Lincoln watched you closely.

“This is nice.” You told him as he nodded, looking up into the sky.

“It’s a good distraction. Gets you out of your head.”

“I could really use that.” You let out a quiet laugh as Lincoln furrowed his brow.

“What’s going on with you Y/N?” He asked as you groaned, falling onto the ground completely.

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?”

Lincoln watched your actions, seeing the way you took deep breaths as he moved to lie next to you. “Well maybe if you let people in they would stop asking.”

You turned to look at him, your mouth down turned as you sigh. “You really want to know what’s going on in my head?” He nodded. You didn’t know what to say, was he serious? “Maybe some other time.” You whispered before looking up at the sky. Lincoln was disappointed you didn’t open up a little but he knew you heard him. He knew you’d let someone in, even if it wasn’t him. “Do you think we’re gonna win?” You asked him, peaking through one eye. Lincoln didn’t know how to answer you as he glanced over to Lexa, seeing her talking to Clarke before he sighed. “You don’t have to answer. It was a dumb question.”

“There’s no winning in war, Y/N.” You gave him a sad smile before standing up, wiping the dirt off your pants before looking down at Lincoln.

“Why do you have be so depressing, Lincoln?” You joked as the man chuckled, standing on his feet before the two of you walked back. “Thanks for the quick distraction. Now, let’s go open a door.”

It wasn’t that long afterwards where you were standing outside Mount Weather, watching Monroe drill holes into the door. The sound of the drilling stopped and made you look up, Monroe turning around in satisfaction. “That should do it. Bombs away.”

Sgt. Miller walked up to the door as Clarke told him to be careful and he nodded. You and Lincoln shared a look before following Miller’s father. He pulled out the container of Hydrazine, his hands shaking heavily as you placed yours over his, comforting him. “You can do this.” You told him as he looked up at you then to Lincoln.

“What if we’re too late?” He asked you as you felt a lump form in your throat at the similarity of your fears.

“What if we aren’t? Draw your strength from your son.”

David looked between the two of you and himself. All coming from different backgrounds, a Grounder, a Guard, and a prisoner, but all in the same place. “The mountain has taken too much from all of us, hasn’t it.” You felt Lincoln’s eyes on you as your hand trailed off David’s hand, letting him put the bomb in the hole.

You needed to wait for Raven and Wick before the bombs could go off, so you stood there staring at the door and playing with the handle of the sword on your hip as Clarke approached you for the second time that day.

“Think this will work?” She asked as you nodded slowly.

“Don’t really have any other choice, now do we?” You gave her a playful smile which she happily returned. “Clarke. About this morning, what I said? I don’t blame you for Tondc. I can’t imagine if you told us where we’d end up. Bellamy would’ve been caught and we’d be dead anyways. That’s not on you.”

Clarke didn’t know what to say, she was grateful you understood and wasn’t holding it over her head. “Thank you.” She said before glancing over at Lexa. You followed her gaze as Lexa walked up to the two of you.

“This is taking too long.” Clarke told her as Lexa stood in between the two of you, staring at the metal in front of you all. You let the two girls be as you moved to stand alone, needing to sort your thoughts out. You could’ve sworn you heard your name followed by come to Polis but you didn’t listen to their conversation. You wished things would hurry up, but your stomach dropped to the ground when gunshots came across the forest you turned to Clarke quickly. “It’s coming from the damn.”

“They know we’re going for the power.”

“They know we’re going for the door.” Lexa finished for her. You didn’t know what was going to happen next as Lincoln shouted something in Trig.

“As soon as those lights go off, you push that button.” David told Clarke, putting a hand on your shoulder to comfort you like you had for him.

Lincoln nodded, looking at the grounders around him before Clarke. “We’ll do the rest.”

The lights on the door went out and Clarke and you shared a look. “She did it.”

“One minute starting.” David said as you Lincoln tossed you a bow he had.

“It’s not yours-”

“But it will work.” You assured him with a smirk. Time kept ticking as the shield wall not 10 feet in front of you fell and David tried to run and trigger it manually. You knew he wasn’t going to make it and Clarke stopped him, telling him they will find a new way.

“There is no other way.” Lexa said as you looked past the rock you hid behind, Lincoln by your side as you both looked at the door.

“You don’t need one.” You said as you got Lincoln’s attention, pointing at the door with your bow as Lincoln nodded.

“10 seconds!” You both lit an arrow on fire and placed it in your bow. Clarke counted down from 5 as Lincoln and you aimed, taking one last breath before firing and hitting the bomb straight on.

It worked.

The door almost exploded as everyone paused, turning towards Lexa and Clarke for their next command.

“We need to get to the ridge and take out the shooters.” Lexa said as you nodded, grabbing some more arrows.

“I’m on it.”

“No!” She practically screamed, grabbing onto your arm. Her eyes bore into your as you crouched back down to her eye level. “You and Lincoln stay with Clarke. When the shooting stops, get that door open.” She commanded you. You were taken back by the fact she didn’t want you to go with her but non the less, you obliged. She took off, leaving you all there watching.

Lincoln was the first to move after Lexa left, moving from behind your cover as you shouted his name.

“Lexa did it.” He announced as you sighed in relief, letting him pull you off the ground. Sergeant Miller groaned under the scraps of metal as Clarke told everyone to make sure he’s okay before turning to you.

“They’ll be waiting just inside the door.”

“Good.” You mumbled before Lincoln led two lies towards the door and attached ropes. Everyone pulled, the door barely as you tapped your foot. “Come on.” You whispered eagerly, watching the men strain against the rope before the door finally inched open.

“Attack!”

Everyone cheered, about to fulfill her order before Lexa returned. She yelled for everyone to stand down as you loosened your stance, looking for her in the crowd.

She walked with Emerson. You and Clarke froze before you meeting her halfway.

“Lexa?” You eyed Emerson up and down but he remain unfazed. “What is this?”

The door pushed open more as you spun around. “Lexa?” You whispered as grounder after grounder came stumbling out of Mount Weather.

Just grounders.

“They’re surrendering?” Clarke asked as she came to your side, watching everyone before looking at Lexa.

Emerson just smirked. “Not quite.” Clarke didn’t get it but you did. Lexa cut a deal, her people and the grounders stop fighting.

“Please don’t do this.” Clarke pled as you stared at lexa, unable to form any words.

“I’m sorry Clarke.” She said and glanced to you but her eyes left almost as quickly.

“You didn’t tell me?” Lexa refused to look in your eyes as you took a step closer. “Why didn’t you tell me?” A grounder stepped between you and her as you glared at him, your fists clenched together and you could feel your shaking as you separated yourself from the man, your head dropping almost instantly.

“Commander, let us fight.” Lincoln stepped forward taking your place as you took a few steps back. Lexa declined Lincoln’s request before turning to you.

“All our people withdraw. Those are our terms.” She said but you didn’t move or say anything. Clarke’s mouth dropped open as

Lexa began walking, standing in front of you. “Choose Y/N.”

What were you supposed to do?

Follow Clarke? Save your friends and possibly get kicked out again? Or Follow Lexa? Join her at Polis where she promised you could join.

Your feet worked faster than your mind and you found yourself walking behind Lexa in the forest.

“Y/N!” Clarke called after you. “Bellamy’s in there. Jasper, Monty, Harper. You can’t just leave them.” Clarke yelled at you as you slowed down, barely turning to her before carrying on. Your mind was reeling as Lexa glanced at you and nodded, both of you moving forward before you were out of the Skypeople’s view.

You stared down at the ground as you walked, falling more and more behind as Lexa turned to look. She said your name, gaining your attention as you finally stopped.

“I can’t.” You whispered into the night air. She sent the rest of her people ahead a little before joining you. “I can’t leave them.”

“Them or him?” She asked as you sucked in a breath, avoiding her eyes. She knew what you were doing, she knew you needed to do this. “Hodnes laik kwelnes.” You gave her a sad smile before grabbing your sword off your hip and held it out to her.

“I know. But you’re right. I can’t leave him.” Lexa just stared at you, inhaling deeply as she looked down a your silver blade. The handle was shaking as you gripped it, waiting for Lexa to take it from you but she didn’t. Instead she gave a small smile and pushed the blade towards you. You were surprised but didn’t want her to see.

“We will meet again.” She told you as you nodded, your mouth opening slightly as you chuckled.

“Yes we will.” You took one last glance around the grounder before turning back to Mount Weather where Bellamy waited for a rescue.

Clarke had watched as you followed Lexa, turning to the door in hopes of finding another plan.

“Clarke! Let’s go, we’ll find reinforcements.” David called out to her as she remained planted to the ground.

“Clarke. Come on.” Clarke turned around, facing Monroe as she sighed. “It’s over.” She said before leaving Clarke. Clarke didn’t want to listen as she turned around.

“It can’t be over.” Clarke whispered to herself as she stared at the doors to Mount Weather. She didn’t know what to do to save her friends.

You came up behind her, hesitating before touching her shoulder to make her turn around. “It’s not over until we get our friends back.”

What did you think?

All Tags Open

***Reblogging with Banished Tags***

Permanent: @literal-fand0m-trash @just4muggles @saturn-aka-six @nathaliabakes @whyamihere-bro @colored-confetti @wiseeggspickleslime @sadn0va @btsiguess-kpop @galacticstxrdust @independentgirl @wellhellotherelovey @hollymac79 @delicately-important-trash

Bellamy: @jodiereedus22 @nyxxxwtp @danielabetancourth

208 notes · View notes

harryff · 4 years

Text

Sensory Overload

Your relationship Harry was relatively new less than year, over 6 months. A revelation during one of your dates he was into BDSM, you responded with interest. Harry was a patient Dom, with you he took his time to teach you all you needed to know to be a sub in general followed by being his sub. You almost regret saying that you were ready for Harry to hold nothing back, to have his way with you the next time.

It started the usual way undress get on your knees, followed by laying on his lap for spanks, today he bent you over to eat you from the back and when he felt that you were wet enough he added his fingers into the mix, you whimper and whine which resulted in more slaps to the ass telling you to be louder. You had been a bratty little sub earlier so instead of giving you what you wanted, he expected you to beg for it, make it up to him, and be a whimpering mess so he could have total control.

Somewhere during the process your mouth is around his cock you don’t even remember getting back on your knees but here you are, deep throating the hell out of Harry. Hand in hair guiding you to his pace. Utters of ‘good girl’ escape his mouth often as his head tilts back. His groans and moans make you even more wet. There was nothing like hearing him express himself during pleasure. The next thing you know you’re on your back and things were going good. Deep inside you teasing you bringing you to the edge then slowing down you were a blubbering mess. Until you felt the cold leather collar around your neck.

“Gotta teach yeh a lesson pet” he explains noticing your reaction. “Im sorry daddy” you apologize while you hold your legs apart as a good subby He leans down to kiss you before he straightens up, his hand on the collar, he slips his fingers between and pushes his cock deeper into you. He picks up his pace you feel an orgasm building once again. You moan in pleasure then there was the slap to the face. You’re on the verge of cumming but it takes you by surprise your hair is on your face so its not like Harry can really see your expression. He turns your face to the other side followed by another smack.

“Tell daddy you’re sorry” you can tell he’s reaching his climax too, but you can’t cum not until he tells you to. One time he didn’t let you so you’re hoping this was different “Im sorry daddy!” You scream it was all too much “Louder!” there was the third and final slap to the face “Sorry Daddy!” “Good girl cum on cum for daddy” and without a second to spare you release the fire burning in the pit of your stomach.

You wake up the next day next to Harry. Weren’t you supposed to discuss your experience post play? You didn’t even remember falling asleep. Harry was still asleep mouth ajar. You get out of bed and as expected your legs needed adjustment time. You drag yourself to the bathroom walk over to the toilet and pee, stand up to wash your hands when you glance at yourself in the mirror, your hands find themselves on your cheek why were they sore? You see a bruise on your neck and it hits you! You automatically tense up. Is this what it meant to be Harry’s sub? Before you delve deep into overthinking you shower. It feels like it brought you back to life. Although your hands couldn’t stay away from your face or neck.

Its not like the impact from the slaps were harsh or the neck too tight but they were also a shock to your body and had you not been submersed in sub mentality you would have shut it down. You examine your body, triggering memories of last night, the bruises were expected, but the slap, did you even like it? You walk into the room to find Harry already awake playing on his phone you smile and continue to walk into the closet.

“Yeh didn’t want to shower with me?” he asks sleep still laced in his voice, he pulls you into him and wraps his arms around you It shocks you, you were busy looking for a bottom to wear “oh no its not that you were sleeping” He was back to being his usual Harry not Dom harry He smiles and kisses your forehead “jus teasin let me go wash m’ass then” You blow him a kiss as he walks away.. -

The rest of the day goes without a hitch you also forget about the collar and slaps until you’re surrounded by Harry’s friends. A little get together and you were fine but the necklace Harry put around your neck was starting to irritate you. You play around with it swiveling it from side to side, but that wasn’t helping. You abruptly excuse yourself when it becomes too much and rush to the bathroom.

You take off the necklace and your hands shake you can’t help but scratch at your neck. It felt like the collar even though it wasn’t. It was lose and had a pendant on it.

You take several deep breaths this shouldn’t be a big deal. You know Harry meant no harm or ill intent. It was sensory overload last night. You didn’t have enough time to process the slaps nor the collar. When you look in the mirror you swear you can see the bruise from the collar even though you covered it with make up. Those damn slaps they were good? Bad? What were they? You need to cry so you bargain with yourself a little bit then you clean yourself up. When you finish you fan yourself and then smile at yourself in the mirror to see if it was convincing enough, you agonize over putting the necklace on but you do.

Before you can finish there’s a knock “Pet yeh alright?” you hear his voice Damn this man you think to yourself before you open the door “yea! I just had to pee” you go to brush past him but he’s posted on the door frame smirking “what?” you ask looking at yourself He shakes his head and takes a step forward “Yeh look beautiful pet” he compliments “Oh thanks we should probably go back” He reaches over and brushes your hair away. He wanted to see all of you and he did along with the scratches on your neck “yeh okay? whats wrong?” he asks reaching for your neck with both hands gently, concerned, examining the damage “having an allergic reaction?” “No it was just itchy” He looks at you with disbelief you’ve worn this necklace before it wasn’t itchy then. “Come on!” he says grabbing your hand

Without a word from you he excuses both of you from the get together. Your drive to his place is silent you’re nervous. Was he mad at you? Should you say something? This isn’t like the many times you decided to be bratty and he got mad this was different. You follow him into his home and watch as he gets ice cream from the freezer. He remembers that being your comfort food. He makes it just the way you like it. Gently he places the bowl down in front of you. It wasn’t fair he could read you like a book.

“Need yeh to talk to me” “Uh….” you go to scratch your neck and Harry reaches over to stop you before reaching around and removing the necklace “S alright we are supposed to talk about these things remember?” he rubs his thumb over your hand You look up to the ceiling and draw in a deep breath before you blow it out as tears form in your eyes. Truth be told you were afraid, afraid he would drop you and get another sub, one who wasn’t so weak minded. It was just a few silly slaps.

“Pet” he calls to you, gently he grabs your cheeks making you look at him. He knew you all to well you were getting too caught up in your head. “Its just me yea? I wanna know whats wrong” “Why’d you slap me?” you blurt out you wanted it to be a more controlled delivery but it was not. Shaky voice and all “It wasn’t supposed to be punishment pet I just wanted to awaken other senses in your body” he explains knowing where you were going with this You eat a spoonful of ice cream to calm you down before you respond. “No I know that…. but why? Is it something you like to do? Slap during sex?” “Did yeh not like it?” You pause and take in another deep breath “I don’t know it was like I couldn’t even process then the damn collar” “Why didn’t yeh say the safe word? We agreed!” “I know we did…I said don’t hold back I was trying to be strong for you Harry” “But yeh don’t have to remember? Yeh don’t need to be strong for me” You sigh and eat another spoonful “we should have talked yesterday” “Tried to pet, but yeh were knocked out cold by the time I came back with the rag” “It was too much” you comment staring into his eyes “In a good way? or bad?” now he’s nervous. Nervous that you might think he was asking a lot of you “It was good Harry it really was I just didn’t think a slap to the face was one of your kinks” you shrug “it just threw me off but i was on the verge of cumming and i wanted to cum so badly i don’t know” “If yeh don’t like it pet I won’t do it” “No I don’t want you to think im complaining” “I don’t. Did I hit too hard?” he didn’t think he did. He has hit much harder in the past with past subs “No it’s the hit itself” He feels embarrassed he should have known you weren’t ready with all the other subs he knew what they could handle. You were very confident in telling him to do all he wanted, which last night wasn’t even the tip of the iceberg “……..do you like the collar?” You snap him back to your conversation “yea I do actually” “Doesn’t it make you feel like you’re degrading me? Like a dog or something?” “No collar play for me is all about total control over yeh but if yeh don’t like it… i don’t want yeh to feel like im degrading yeh” “Maybe not that for now I prefer your hands better”

He takes in a deep breath and releases slowly “Lets just table these things and revisit yea?” you reason with him you could tell he was becoming stressed He nods in agreeance “Sorry I guess I wasn’t ready for all of you after all. I should have known better” “No pet its okay come here” He says pulling you into his lap “I care about yeh a lot. I want yeh to be just as happy if not more when yeh’re with me n think of me”

#harry smut #Harry Styles Fan Fiction #Harry Styles #harry styles fiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles angst

129 notes · View notes

wincestisasincest · 5 years

Text

2000 Man (A beatle!reader story) - Part 1: Madam Beatle

Hello friends! Yes I absolutely am starting a new series when I haven’t finished another one. I was just so intrigued by the idea of a beatle!reader that I had to start something.

Credit to @casafrass for literally all the ideas and a few of the headcanons, I’ll name which ones I’m using for each part of the story.

Anyway, the story is framed through an interview that our dear reader is having in the year 2000 as she tries to promote her new book, Madam Beatle, which chronicles the story of her life. Expect a lot of flashbacks, and a lot of angst as the stories goes on. Kinda inspired by Slumdog Millionaire. I don’t know how long this is gonna be yet, but expect a L O T.

Anyway, let’s start, and get ready for more.

Description: It’s the year 2000, and y/n, the fifth member of the Beatles, is advertising her new book, Madam Beatle, in her first interview of the year. We see snapshots of her life, from when she joined the band, to the trials and tribulations, to the death of the band, and everything in between. Loosely inspired by Slumdog Millionaire.

Part: 1, 2

Headcanons: How the fans would react, how the press would react/how defensive the boys are

Words: 1,967

Pairings: None, at the moment, just general fluff and friendship

Warnings: Rude people and language

“Welcome back to the show, y/n. I hate to be the one to say it, but I haven’t seen you since the last millennium.”

“Thanks for having me, Harold, though I honestly didn’t think I would live to see the next one.”

“Well, I think I speak for everyone when I say that we’re glad you did. How else would we get to see the release of, what was it, Madam Beatle?”

“Yup, that it was.”

“Now, I mean this as so insult to your creativity, but I understand that this title isn’t your own thinking, is it?”

“Well, no, it was actually one of the many titles that the press had given me back in our early days. The first article that I read that was specifically about me, was, in fact, titled, ‘Madam Beatle, Yay or Nay?’. It was in a section of a teen magazine, I don’t even remember the name at this point, but it was where the magazine would pose a question in the previous issue, and fans would send letters with their responses. It was usually some sort of yes or no question. I’m afraid I don’t recall the whole thing, but I did save that page of the magazine, and I had it printed in full in the book.”

“Was this article particularly significant to you.”

“I’d like to think so. I remember reading it and thinking to myself, ‘Wow, this many people I don’t know have strong opinions about me.’ It sounds a little weird saying it out loud, but it was just such a strange concept to me, and was almost completely foreign at the time, though I grew used to it.”

Your hands sealed the envelope closed as you slammed it on top of your growing pile. You felt a little bad not putting the return address on the front of the letters. Of course, you knew full-well that that was Freda’s job, but there was simply so many. She would have to dedicate an hour, at least.

This response had been something special. Greta, a seven year old from Idaho, had sent you a drawing of herself and you, and you wanted to respond with something equally as awesome, so you sent her a drawing of yourself and her à la colored pencils instead of crayons. Something about children always brought out your soft side, even if it took an extra 10 minutes to answer.

You tore open the next letter without even checking the front. The address wasn’t really important, it was the name inside. Out fell a small sheet of paper and a crumpled page of a magazine.

The paper was about the size of a post-it note, with words scrawled on it in thick, black pen: “I’m not the only one who thinks you’re a whore.”

Shaking, you picked up the crumpled magazine page. You couldn’t figure which magazine it was, but you recognized the format of the column. A point-counterpoint type column, with the page split in half, headed either ‘Yay’ or ‘Nay’, and a collection of responses on either side. Or, they’re should’ve been, as the heading under ‘Yay’ was completely scribbled out by the black marker, leaving only the ‘Nay’ section visible.

The title of the article was ‘Madam Beatle, Yay or Nay?’, and under the title, in confident, showy lettering, was the question: ‘What do you think of y/n of the Beatles?’

You turned the page over and refused to read it. You knew what this was. You had heard of it. And you had also heard that the best way to deal with hate-mail was to not give into it. To not answer. But you weren’t very good at avoiding temptation.

There was a knock at the door. You peered through the fish-eye. Yup, it was the four lads, who had almost certainly all lost the room key. You pulled the door open slightly, only to have it stopped by the door chain.

“Y/n, love, you’re supposed to open the door the whole way.” You didn’t even have to look up to know that it was Lennon, dripping with sarcasm as usual.

“I dunno if I should. I was told by our very esteemed manager Brian that I should keep all riff-raff out of the hotel room.” You began rolling your rs in the way that posh people do.

“Then what are you doin’ in there?” Ringo joined the arena.

“I’m a beacon of morality.” You giggled as you unlocked the door.

The four blew in past you, moving to all corners of the room, and stretching out on whatever chair or sofa they could find.

“Was it worth it?” You blew some hair out of your face.

“Nah, he wasn’t home.” George crossed his legs on the coffee table while sitting on the sofa.

“Too famous for you, I guess.” You crossed your arms and took in the room of disappointed faces. If it were anyone else, you wouldn’t like to say ‘I told you so.’ But, you really did tell them so.

“Ah, just you wait. One day, we’ll be rejecting Elvis when he tries to come over.” John was scrounging through the kitchenette looking for snacks to fuel his sarcasm.

“Y/n, what’s this?” Paul, who hadn’t spoken yet, was hunched over the table with your fan mail sprawled out on it.

“Jus’ some fan mail that I was getting done, you know, being productive, while I was waiting for you four to get rejected.” You were silently praying that he wouldn’t notice that one shred of hate mail that you had. Of course, it had to be the hate mail that he noticed and not the thousands and thousands of wonderful letters that you had received. If anyone would make a big deal, it would be Paul.

“No, no, I mean this letter, if that’s what you can call it.” Paul, don’t you do it.

“What does it say?” Ringo called over everyone’s head.

“I don’t wanna say it out loud, but-”

“Paul, it’s fine, there’s no fans around.” You just wanted to get this whole thing over.

“What does it say?” John was looking over Paul’s shoulder at your table.

“Guys, it’s fine, I don’t ca-”

“Someone sent y/n hate mail.”

“What? What does it say?” Ringo and George both went over to join the group, hovering over what you had just opened.

“Yeah, but it’s like, not a big deal,” you walked back over to join them, “I got all these nice letters from other people, if one person is angry, I don’t really mind.” You patted the top of your stack of letters as there was a small silence.

“Good girl, y/n,” John strolled to your side and put his arm around you, “Lads, this is the grit that we’re gonna need to have if we’re gonna make it past this milestone.”

“What the hell are you on about, John?” Paul had finally given up his fascination with the hate mail.

“We’ve got our first hate mail. We’ve officially made it.” You joined a chorus of sighs, but John only chuckled.

“In fact, I think this calls for a celebration,” he pulled away from you, “Pour the champagne!” He whipped a bottle of champagne out of one of the cabinets and swiped give champagne glasses from the shelf. John and properly confronting the situation was often not a good pairing.

“Where the hell did that come from?” George chided, though it was through a smile.

“What does it matter? We’re fucking famous!” The champagne was overflowing in the glass that he shoved into your hand. You felt a smile creeping up your face. You couldn’t tell if he was just trying to ignore the situation, or if he was genuinely happy, and frankly, you didn’t care.

“To hate mail!” The five of you clinked your glasses, somewhat unexpectedly, but no one was gonna turn away a champagne celebration. You took a long sip. He was right. This was just another lesson to add to your collection of things that you had to deal with in the public conscience. First, it was the press, and now, it was some very pissed off fans. Only a little longer until you learned not to care about breathing.

The next few hours were a blur. Champagne had taken the place of the brandy that you took before shows to ease your nerves, though you obviously weren’t thinking about it at the time, and thus, were slightly more tired and drunk than usual.

Still, the show went fine. You honestly could’ve stood there for an hour and those fans would’ve screamed their heads off anyway. And life was good.

You stepped into the car that would take you back to the hotel, your feat aching, as they always did, and your eyelids begging to shut. The car lurched forwards.

“Y/n, I found this for you.” Ringo sat across from you and handed you what looked like a magazine, with his thumb marking one of the pages. You and him had stepped into the car earlier than the rest, as the group always took different routes in order to ease the escape from fans.

“Thanks, Rings.” You flipped it open, and your eyes recognized the page that you’d landed on. It was the same article from earlier, except that the ‘Yay’ column was no longer blacked out. You smiled.

“Aww, you didn’t have to do that.”

“I know, I know, but I wanted to make sure that you have the, the good opinions with the bad, and all that.”

“Another successful night, lads, and now, to the bar!” John hopped into the car, a tidal wave of fans following close behind. Paul and George then slinked in and the door was slammed shut behind them.

“What’s that you’ve got there, y/n?” Paul squeezed himself next to me.

“Ringo found me the same magazine from earlier. Wanted me to see all the ‘good opinions’.”

“Awww, Rings! Looking out for our y/n like that.” John ruffled his hair as he shoved himself into the seat next to him.

“I never knew how nasty girls can be towards girls. I always thought it was just the press.” George added his pensive two cents while looking out the window.

“Hey, hey, it’s the fans, not girls in general. And I’ll have you know, I got several adoring letters from both our male and female fans.” You leaned back in your seat.

“We have male fans?” Paul laughed. John snorted.

“But seriously, y/n, they don’t mean shit, those girls. We don’t like ‘em either.” John was bad at emotions, you knew this, but his words were some odd comfort.

“Wow, very nice, you could’ve said that without a bottle of champagne, y’know.” Brian jammed himself in the car next to John and Ringo.

“Here comes the killjoy.” Paul muttered under his breath.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice that drunken stumble tonight, Lennon. And don’t think that the audience didn’t notice, either. Very unprofessional.”

“The only professional here is the driver, Brian, and even he’s speeding a little.” What a comedy duo. The rest of the car cracked up with laughter.

“Do watch that, Lennon. The rest of you, a little better, but do try to stick to brandy next time.” He took out one of his finer cigars.

“Tonight we’re sticking to more than brandy.” You added, and the group let out whoops of joy.

“Cheers, love.” Paul gave you a light shove.

Brian’s attempts to control the group were futile. The driver fulfilled his purpose and flipped off someone while slamming on the gas to pull into the lane. You and your best friends sped into the night, leaving all your inhibitions far behind.

#beatle!reader #the beatles #beatles #the beatles x reader #beatles x reader #john lennon #ringo starr #george harrison #paul mccartney #john lennon x reader #ringo starr x reader #george harrison x reader #paul mccartney x reader #classic rock #60s

138 notes · View notes

jawllines · 5 years

Note

CONGRATS also what happened to our blurbbbbbb :(

HELLO I AM SORRY!! HERE IS THE WEREWOLF BLURB :D

Harry had dealt with his fair share of whiny pups in his day.

Hell, most of the time he was the whiney pup himself. Despite being the Alpha, and for the most part being sturdy and phlegmatic, when it was just him and Y/N in a room together then he could be the absolute whiniest thing. Only because she allows him to get away with it, petting at his curls, grazing her fingertips up the skin of his sinewy back while simultaneously teasing and soothing him with gentle words spoken often just loud enough for him to hear.

This mostly occurred when she’d have been caught up in her school work or at the bakery and Harry can’t help but begin to feel neglected, especially when he’s been banished to the other side of the couch so she can focusing on writing her essay during his impromptu visits to her flat. That’s when he was the most abhorrent, he’d reckon, quietly sulky and whiney as to give her the chance to finish, but their bond makes it almost impossible for her not to feel his downtrodden mood shift. He figures she feels guilty then, beckoning him over with a soft call of his name and Harry all but scrambles for the opportunity to curl their bodies within one another.

It’s in those moments the notions of her being his true mate are only reaffirmed, coaxing him to nothing but a muddle of purrs and endearment towards her. Very seldom is she the whiny pup -- she’s lovey and warm and soft but never a complaint or a grumble at her lips when he’s busy or tending to other things.

So now, when she’s in a state such as this one, Harry isn’t sure what to do.

The beginnings of it had been that morning, when he’d woken to the strips of sunlight cascading against the walls and the dark sheets of his bed. Normally he might wake up to Y/N already stretching out her body, or curled nicely against his body, her back to his chest snuggled close. However, now her arm was wrapped around him tightly, and her leg had been positioned over his own almost possessively. The apple of her cheek was pressed to his chest and he could just barely feel her lips brush against his nipple, pebbled from the damp warmth of her breath. He had attempted to untangle her from him so that he could position them in a way he could wake her with kisses before venturing down to the dining hall for brekkie, but she wouldn’t budge. Grumbled in her sleep and stubbornly latched on tighter to him.

“Pet,” he’d murmured -- his tongue felt heavy in his mouth, how it does every morning, but he forces it to move, “Wake up f’r me.” He’d given her a shake or two before she was properly roused, and there had been something different in her eyes this morning. Something needier almost. She appeared cute as ever, and soft as ever, she smelled sweeter than normal as well which urged his cock awake some, and when he’d tried untangling them once more she groaned aloud and shook her head.

“Don’ move,” she had attempted to order, “Want to cuddle more. Love you.”

Harry had felt mushy of course, and he thinks he would’ve even considered skipping breakfast if it meant just letting her cling onto him how she was -- to revel in that sleepy possessiveness that she’d otherwise be too embarrassed to show -- but her stomach rumbled to life, demanding to be heard and catered to. So he’d mustered the strength he knows he has to overpower her, and just brings her along with him as he sits upward, ignoring the long whine that stretched from her throat.

He’d imagined it had just been some post-sleep snuggles that she’d been working out of her system but that was far from the case. When Harry moved, she moved; if he walked to the dresser, she would tail behind him, and when he was brushing his teeth after she’d finish brushing hers, her forehead was pressed to his back, between his shoulder blades, just resting. He’d been concerned at first, feeling her forehead, “Are you feeling well, my love?” He had asked and she nodded, brows furrowed deep.

“What, I can’t want to be close to you?” She had replied defensively, though her arms were still locked around him as she’d placed them when he turned from the sink, “If it’s annoying then I’ll jus’ see if Niall wants my affection.”

Harry’s own brows furrowed, “No,” he grumbled shaking his head, “It’s not annoying, not at all -- you’re just more cuddly than usual, with me. Didn’t know if something was wrong.”

Y/N shakes her head, the irritation that he’d questioned her having left as she only hugs to him tighter when his own arms reciprocate around her body, “Just love you, s’all,” she’d replied with a soft sigh, and Harry thinks his heart may just burst from his chest when she continues, “Love you lots.”

“I love you too, baby,” he’d murmured, “Now let’s go get something to eat.”

It’d continued throughout breakfast, during their morning walk around the grounds flourishing with springtime, when he’d read to her from his father’s old journals (he didn’t think she’d much care for them, but she loved it -- hearing his father’s recounting of events across the world and within the pack was so enthralling to her, she often requested he even bring one when he came to visit her flat), and carrying on into lunch, and to now, as he’d just had to negotiate his way out of bed with her so he could coordinate their food orders by promising twenty-five kisses minimum when he returned. Y/N wanted to be near him at all times, warm on his body, holding onto him in some way, and if humans had the capability of purring he’s sure she would be.

Harry’s a little worried. Don’t get him wrong, he’s reveling in this sudden burst of love and affection, but it's at a caliber she’d never expressed before. If he didn’t know any better, he would say Y/N was on the cusp of her heat, but that. . .but that couldn’t --

Oh.

The sudden spark of the thought as Harry reaching into the desk in his office, tearing open the drawer on the top right side and pushing past the dagger that had linked him and Y/N’s blood together, for the book the Swedish woman sent him. It was full of information about their situation, which he had thumbed through quite often in the beginning, before they were together, but he’d recognized he’d always skipped over a chunk of pages. He can’t remember his exact reasoning but it had been along the lines of not wanting to get his hopes up and not wanting to form a knot at the thought of it.

When he finds the page, his eyes first flit over it quickly, searching for keywords that might clue him in on what he thinks may be happening and when he sees words like heat and possible and needy it prompts him to go back and read more carefully. Realization pooling around him, allowing him to plunge deep within its depths, and awakening his cock.

Y/N was in what the Swedish woman called, a “false heat”. Obviously, she can’t have one given she is a human, but since she is bonded with a werewolf -- an Alpha, no less -- her body has shifted into a state of this needing and wanting in order to accommodate him. Though his rut had already past, it was just her body trying to figure itself out; regulating so that she could match up with his rut, only to make the two of them a mass of insatiable desires until they’re both run dry.

And at the understanding that the reason she smelled much sweeter than usual was because she was wet and begging to be filled but didn’t know how to formulate it. His poor girl was so needy for him and he’d run off without a thought -- he can’t help but shake his head at himself.

So he all but runs back to his room, finding her flopped over on his bed, phone in hand above her face until she hears him and she turns to face him, lighting up once he enters, “You’re back sooner than expected,” she pushed herself up from her lying position, waving him over with both hands, “Sooner the bed, more of you to myself then.”

He climbed onto the bed and didn’t waste a moment, leaning forward and capturing her lips within his own. They were tender and warm, like she might have been nibbling on them in his absence, frustrated with the way she feels and not understanding why, and this only fuels him further. His hand slides up her back, palm flat between her shoulder blades as he levels her back down to the mattress. His whole body bristles when she moans, a longing, pretty little noise that makes him draw back. Fingers curling into the waistband of her pants, he wiggles them down her legs, and she’s more than compliant, her legs falling open for him to get in between.

“My sweet little puppy,” he murmured, more to himself than to her as he looks down, seeing that the fabric between her legs was nothing but a piece of soaked cotton. So soaked in fact, he could practically see through them, “Why didn’t you tell me your pussy was this wet, hmm? I knew I smelled something sweet,” he shook his head some, overwhelmed with the suddenness of her arousal hitting the air around them. His cock was filling quickly, even more so as he uses two fingers to merely pull the damp fabric to the side to take a peek at her weepy hole. He thinks he may pass out, eyes drinking her in to see her wet lips parted, clit engorged and begging for his mouth and he was more than ready and willing to give it to her, but first he pulls a little harder on her panties. The fabric splits apart, and she squeaks, “Still waiting for an answer.” He reminded her.

“I didn’t wanna bother you -- thought I was pushing it with the cuddles,” she struggled to get out as the pads of his fingers carefully graze over her lower lips, spreading her wetness around, slipping ever so carefully around all her sensitive spots, “Was happy just to -- just to cuddle.”

A smile pulls at his mouth, “You’re never pushing anything ever -- I love holding you and I love taking care of you in anyway you need me to,” and he takes mercy on her begging little pussy by sinking two fingers into her hole easily. He shivers some at how both tight and welcoming her hole is for him, curling his fingers up against the soft, spongy bump that makes her whole body tremble. Harry’s mouth waters when the whimpery little moan that leaves her mouth, enters his ears, and his heart swells when she grapples for him. Reaching out for his shoulder, she pulls him down so that he’s close, his arm between them as he begins slowly fucking his fingers in and out of her, while she decides to wrap her arms around his neck and hold him close again.

“Love you,” she murmurs, “Love you, love you, love you,” she repeats it like a mantra and Harry is soaking it in. Who would have ever thought his sweet little human would have any semblance of a heat? And one that just absolutely turns her into a mess of pure, unfiltered affection.

“I love you too, Darling,” he hums in response, pecking a kiss to her temple, “So much.”

. . .

Once Harry had worked four orgasms with his fingers and mouth alone, he was beginning to truly understand this false heat that she was going through. The poor thing was so needy -- probably the neediest she’s ever felt in her life -- so all the noises she let filter from her throat were unabashed, louder than she’s ever thought to be before. Her cunt was all accepting of everything he was able to offer, from three of his fingers curling up into that special spot that twists her up in greedy knots, keening for more, to his tongue that first laps at her soft petals, parting her lips around the wet muscle only to dip it within her. Her whole body was quivering. . .trembling like a leaf just barely clinging onto a branch in fall. . .but in the same breath, she was blooming for him. The carnal desire that she’s normally so reserved about, he was meeting for the first time, and it was the utmost gratifying.

When she cums, she begs for another, and though she grabs at his wrist when she’s feeling overstimulated she doesn’t tell him to stop or say their special word. She pleads and whines, babbles some and even mewls, to the point that he plugs her mouth with his fingers. Not because he wasn’t reveling in each pretty little sound she was producing but because this is what they’re meant to do for omegas in their heat. And it proves to work, her murmuring happily around his fingers, looking at him with these glossy, fucked out eyes that ooze nothing but love and adoration for him.

His cock is throbbing; a heavy weight in his boxers that almost feels unignorable at this point. This strokes him in all the best ways, his soft little human undulating at the thought of him inside of her. She had just come down from a nice, tightening orgasm around his fingers, where she’d milked them, soaking him to his palm and still asking for more. “Please,” she urged him, pulling him down towards her body, so his chest was flush against hers and she mouths pitifully at his lips, like she wants to kiss but keeps talking and cuts it off anytime they lock together for a moment, “Want you so bad -- everywhere, all over me, inside me, I --” her fingernails dig into the skin over his shoulder blades, shaking her head, “M’sorry, m’so needy but you’re -- you’re my Alpha, Harry need you so bad.”

Harry nearly busts off right there, a particularly strong throb rock through his prick and a thick string of precum dots the heather grey fabric of his boxers wet and sticky. He bristles with her claim and those words that he didn’t even know he needed to hear, were the ones that sparked the fire in his veins at an even higher temperature than before.

“Don’t apologize, never apologize,” he slips down closer to her, tilting his forehead against hers, their noses brushing together, “You’re right baby, I’m your Alpha -- need to take care of my girl, don’t I? Fill you up so full with my knot that you feel me leaking from you for days.” This makes her shiver, nodding quickly as she parts her legs open more easily for him. Harry has one hand up near her face, cradling her cheek and caressing the skin gently for a moment before he pushes up and the other he pushes his boxers off his legs, then taking the base of his cock in his hand and slipping it up her swollen, messy little slit. He looks down between them, the head shiny and slick with his own arousal, dipping into that sweet little oasis of a pussy she has for him.

He watches himself sink in, her walls wrapping around him and the filthiest groan leaves the both of them and Harry flops back over to her. Bottoms out deep within her, balls snug to her bum and he can already feel his knot forming. “God, baby,” he all but growls, shaking his head, “You sweet little thing, you’re so tight and warm for me aren’t you? Just the perfect fit for your Alpha, yeah?”

She’s nodding, letting him move her legs easily, so her leg was swung around his forearm with the inside of her knee to his skin, as he begins to steadily fuck into her. The pads of his fingers dig dents into the flesh of her thighs, rocking back and forth and Y/N seems like she’s fallen into paradise. Her eyes are wet with tears, and she loops her fingers around the thin skin of his wrists, pulling the two fingers that had been in her mouth back against her tongue. “Oh, sweet girl,” he hushes her, petting at her tongue, “I love you so much.”

Harry’s hitting her spot again and again, and she’s mewling for him, “I wove you so mu-tch,” she cries out to him, “G’na cum, I think m’g’na cum.”

“Yeah?” His voice is a low rumble, “Cum for me then, yeah? Squeeze me baby, squeeze me tight around my knot.”

Y/N listens, moaning and her walls begin pulsating around him intensely. It pushes him towards his own end, giving a shaky breath, another deep growl as he buries his face into her neck and breathes in the sweet scent of her as his knot swells, slipping into her dripping hole as he cums shot, after shot inside of her, filling her so full that its slipping around his shaft as some of it leaks out of her around his balls. Thighs trembling as they squeeze around his hips, overstimulated and sensitive as she finishes out her orgasm. He wants to slump over her and rest but he can’t, instead shifting them to the side so that they were on their sides, facing one another and her hooks her leg around his hip to keep her close.

“I love you so much,” she whimpers, leaning forward and rubbing their noses together mawkishly.

Harry’s heart grows in his chest, and he feels so soft, sliding his palm up and down her back, “I love you more, my love,” he puckered his lips, placing a gentle kiss on her mouth and he tastes the salt of her tears from before, and his heart yanks. “You’re my whole world. Do you know that?”

“No, you’re mine,” she counters, burrowing her face into his chest, “I love you most.”

They could do this all day and night, he’s sure of it, and the fact that they could make him feel immensely warm. He was in bed, with his mate, and though he was knotted with her after the filthiest act, the moment felt so pure and innocent. . .full of love.

Harry’s happy and he doesn’t think he could ask for anything more.

#BLURBS #OR #BLURB #Anonymous

685 notes · View notes

kreekey · 4 years

Text

Hey, You’ve Got To Hide Your Love Away (Ch 2)

Chapter 1/?: Want to Hear a Secret?

Pairing: John Lennon & Paul McCartney (not romantic at all)

Genre: Drama, Angst

Words: 3461

Summary: It’s the morning, a time of day that’s already always been unsavoury for John. He’s realized the heaviness of the encounter the night before. He’s realized a bit more about himself. This is not the time to have someone visit. It is not the time to have a spat with your best friend. It is definitely not the time to find a mysteriously revealing letter. It’s just the luck of John.

(See the AO3 Post for author’s notes)

John whined from inside his hotel room. Something resembling “I’m coming, jus’ hold on!” rumbled out of his mouth as he struggled out of the sheets. It must be morning now, he thought to his dismay. He must’ve woken up. It’s good that he was disturbed, as John was too annoyed by that to remember the night before. Yet.

The glance at the mirror didn’t help to cheer his mood, but he didn’t bother to change or even ruffle his hair correctly before ripping the door open. It was Paul, already fitted in a modest jumper over a collared shirt. John peered at him, now a bit more conscious of his half-dressed state.

“Mornin’, then,” Paul scoffed in amusement after looking John up and down. He glanced behind him and pushed his way into the room, saying, “Fuckin’ hell, John. I don’t stay for a night and you leave it a mess. You didn’t remember I was coming over this afternoon so we could finish writing the album?”

Grumblings and the sound of a door slamming shut were ignored as Paul began to sort the papers on the writing desk. Various letters, drawings, ideas, and song notes were being put aside. John threw himself on the bed, face first. Right, the bed…

After an incessant series of pokes to his shoulder, John grumbled and flipped himself over. The shades of daylight peeking through the curtains were enough to blind him. Paul stood over him, shaking his head, “You’ve got to get up, John. We’ve got three days to write three songs, and we’ve got to get something done today if we ever want to finish on time.”

“‘m tired, Paul,” John droned.

“C'mon, I stayed at the party later than you, and I’m alright. You’ve got the blonde to soothe you to an early sleep last night, didn’t you?” Paul’s teasing tone gave John a sense of dread.

A sudden warmth spread on his cheeks. John buried his head in his pillow, forgetting the macho manliness he’d like to exhume. “…no. Nothing happened, Paulie,” he lied.

“Not with the charming John Lennon?” Paul headed back to the desk, not bothering to face the bed. John sat up and watched as Paul swayed and hummed one of their new melodies, busying himself with the task of organization. One end of the room was carefree and light. John’s eyes snapped down to the sheets he sat on. They were unmade, dirty, and caused a crude memory to float back into his brain.

“Aren’t I married now, McCartney?” John asked in a low voice, every word feeling stuck to his tongue. He made sure to keep his eyes down.

Without skipping a beat, Paul laughed, “I don’t remember you ever really caring about marriage 'n all the junk like that before. I mean, I know you love her, but when Lennon’s faced with a pretty bird… What, did all the love songs get to yer head?”

A slight scoff came out of John disguised as a laugh. He turned to where she had been on the bed last night, recounting their actions in his head with a thousand-yard stare.

“Are you coming to write with me or not?” Paul called, still occupied with rummaging through John’s desk. “You can worry about your homing bird later. In fact, once we’re done, I’ll walk with you to the office so you can post her this letter you’ve written personally.” He held up an unfamiliar envelope above his shoulder, waving it to catch John’s attention.

The letter was snatched from behind with a strange intensity, almost ripping the paper in the process. Neither had even realized John had leaped out of bed yet. The event didn’t especially surprise Paul, but the appearance of a letter he had no memory writing certainly surprised John.

“This isn’t my handwriting, ye git,” John jeered after taking a moment to turn the sealed envelope over in his hands. It was addressed with exact precision to Cynthia Powell Lennon at their flat back in England. Eppy had arranged the address so all the fans wouldn’t find them. It was their little hideaway, the few moments John could ever make it home. It was one of those things Cynthia could privately have as proof that, yes, she was rightfully John’s. And John was supposed to be her’s at the end of the day, too.

“Well, it isn’t mine. Did you get someone to transcribe for you? You’re illiterate, you know,” Paul answered casually. When another joke was ignored, Paul spun back to his friend, arms crossed, to watch him tear open the letter with his teeth. “Let me see it, then?”

John drew back from Paul’s reaching hands as he processed the written words. “Oh, for fucks sake…” he breathed, his eyes glued to the paper. “Tell me you wrote this, Paul? To fuck with me, right?”

Hearing Paul’s answer of “No, Johnny,” left John feeling the headache and sense of impending doom grow stronger. He went quiet, re-reading the page.

“What’s wrong, John?” Paul extended his hands, gentler this time. “Just lemme read it.”

John flicked his eyes back at his mate, wide and calculating for a split second. His mind turned to static. No need to weigh the options.

The paper was ripped into quarters and it’s bits left on the ground. John wiped his hands on his pyjamas as if he had committed a crime and said, “Forget it, Paul. Just… forget it, yeah?”

“Sure, John. Er, if you’d like. Of course.” Paul answered, feeling in the dark again. He kept his lips shut, watching as John paced up and down the short room and huffed. There was nothing on the bed, yet John would keep sneaking glances at it. Paul’s fingers wavered, and his eyes wandered down to the tattered papers.

“I'll… we’ll write after I go freshen up. Alright?” John murmured before stepping into the bathroom, leaving Paul standing alone in the middle of the room. It seemed barren without John’s muttering. Paul heard the distant sounds of a shower turning on.

John will be back in a minute. And in a minute, John will be calm again. Paul still felt a twinge of uneasiness as he reached down and picked the scraps up.

Paul took care with arranging the four quarters on the desk, wondering if he was missing something crucial. As the paper became readable, it became clear the handwriting was of a stranger. Neat and bold, not the familiar messy informality of John’s. Paul would have no way of knowing this, but it was the writing of a woman who wasn’t even from this time. A character who knew more about them than they knew about themselves.

The letter began,

Dear Cynthia Powell Lennon (or maybe soon it’ll just be Powell?)

I’m sure you’re well aware of this, or you’ve at least heard the rumours, but you won’t allow yourself to believe it. It’s a shame. You deserve better, don’t you know? And John knows this, too. But he can’t stop himself. And he loves you, he loves you. You must know that. You remember that Christmas letter back in '58… “I LOVE YOU CYN, YES YES YES”.

Strange. No explanation for John’s panic. Paul was too engrossed to notice that the shower had gone quiet.

Those were still the good years. Do you believe that it isn’t anymore? That the shaky period right now will soon pass? I advise you to leave before he breaks your heart. He’s already done it, though, hasn’t he? You just wanted to dance with Stu. Your friend, Stuart. His friend, too.

Outside of Paul’s knowledge, John had dried himself off and put on proper clothes.

It wasn’t until Stu spun you around that you noticed John against the wall, watching. That pretty pair, he thought. You excused yourself. He didn’t talk to you for the rest of the night. He didn’t say much when he found you down in the basement, alone, and forced you against a wall. The slap hurt. Your cheek burned for the rest of the night and you went home. You didn’t see him for months.

Paul remembered when, once, he had noticed that John didn’t have that blonde bird with him anymore. He didn’t know Cynthia then. John said that they had a silly spat. It was an empty lie.

Yet he begged for you to come back, and you did so gladly. You remembered the days when you had just met him. He had charmed you out of your engagement with the man in America just by asking you to dance. He sang you “Ain’t She Sweet.” He was yours. But you knew in the back of your mind even then, didn’t you? You knew there had to be something just underneath the surface…

It was hard to imagine John Lennon - the tuff ted who acted as a bad influence for all the good boys in Liverpool - as someone who could romance a girl like Cynthia. John Lennon, who had ridiculed all the lovey-dovey dull romantics, until one day he had found himself in love. One day, he found himself singing for her. One day, he found himself marrying her. That very man was currently stopped in his tracks, just outside the bathroom door, hair still dripping. Every thought turned into a scream as he caught Paul reading the fucking letter…

So, it wasn’t John’s thoughts that moved him to wrangle his friend’s hair in one hand, forcing Paul to snap out of thought. Paul swore he could feel the hair ripping right off his head. John was dragging him, screaming something unintelligible. Paul couldn’t tell what it was, he needed John to let go. So Paul yelped and thrashed and tried to land any hits he could. It was all futile, of course. It was like a little boy holding onto his father’s trouser legs and crying for him not to go. John threw Paul down to the floor. He turned into a trembling slump trying to pull himself up. Gasping for air, brow furrowed, Paul wanted to understand why.

John turned away from the boy on the ground, fuming, seeing red. He was rubbing his face, his eyes, making his hands move in any way that wouldn’t have him beating Paul into the ground. He took a shaky deep breath, wanting to drown out the ragged breathing from behind him.

Paul was on the floor, one arm propped up, red in the face and panting. The papers had flown about in the chaos. There was a pang of shame in Paul’s chest, but he ignored that. The sense of resentment came much easier. It seemed more obvious.

John paced back and forth, not daring to look at the boy who was still on the floor. Fervent, panicked sounds emanated from John, talking to himself. Paul didn’t move a muscle, but he bit, “The fucks wrong with you?”

Without warning, John tramped towards him and for a second Paul braced himself. But if John wanted to fight, Paul wouldn’t shy away. There was still a slight feeling of relief when John only swiped the papers, making a harsh crinkling sound in his clenched fist. His stature towered over Paul, whose face was too blurry to make out. There was nothing that could stop John from howling roughly, “I can’t stand the way you nose your way into my fuckin’ life, McCartney! I never want to see you worm your way into my business again! I’ll fuckin kill you! I can't stand you!”

What could be done but to wince? John stood tall, jaw tense, spitting these horrible things in his best mate’s face. Sometimes Paul forgot he could do this.

“Aren’t you going to fucking say something, you goddamned divvy?” John let his voice go hoarse. “Won’t you at least fucking… say something?” He noticed his voice go off, a decibel softer. “Say something, Macca. I…”

For a second, John looked helpless again. Paul just breathed, already controlling himself. Breathed it all in. John couldn’t stand how Paul could just breathe and not let it get any worse.

“I…” John wheezed. “…Did you read it?”. He clutched the papers harder in his hands, wishing he could make it disappear.

“…Yea, mate. A bit,” Paul responded in a cool voice, as much as he could manage.

“How far did you…?”

“Not much - ” he cut his explanation short. If he said almost nothing, maybe John would calm down.

Stopping to stare at the wall, John’s thoughts went quieter. “Forget it,” he said sharply.

“O-okay.”

“It’s just…” John sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You know what I get up to, don’t you? But, uhm, there are rumours. I think… I think it’s getting out. I get nervous every time Cyn opens the morning paper. Me and some bird snogging on the front page, you know?”

After Paul’s wordless answer, John stretched out his hand begrudgingly, eyes on the carpet but not on the man. They gripped each other’s forearms and Paul was pulled up. As soon as he was standing, Paul tried to shove his arm back to his side. John held on.

“You don’t think that Cynthia, erm, knows, does she?” John’s grip squeezed Paul’s arm, and suddenly they seemed close again.

“…what?” Paul spoke as soft as he could. If John would allow Paul to see him, see his eyes, maybe they’d understand each other. But he didn’t.

“Cynthia doesn’t know, does she? I mean, I love her. I just can’t help it when…” his voice trailed off. “C'mon, Paul, tell me.”

“John, I don't…”

“Just fuckin’ tell me. I mean, she knows I’m a Beatle, right? I can't… I didn't choose… I mean, I can’t help it. She’s the only one I’ve ever loved, Paul.”

“I - I don’t know, John. Honest.”

John paused. His grasp turned too tight for Paul’s ease of mind. “Did you tell her?”

Paul was left speechless by the very implication.

“You’re terribly nice to her, you know? Did you once let slip…?” he strained to say it.

“No!”

“Did you ever let anyone know at the party, though? The rumours spread quick and you know that, don’t you?”

“Course not! John, did you really think - ”

“Don’t you think she notices, though?” John’s eyes stuck to the floor. “How when we’d go to parties - you know, as normal people - that you’d always leave with Jane and I’d let Cyn go home early so she could get some rest… but of course, I never came home till morning, did I?

"She must notice that you… You’re so perfect, huh?” John gave a weak, weary chuckle.

'Johnny,“ Paul half-scoffed, believing none of this was happening. "You know that’s not true.” He stopped himself from slipping out we’re more alike than you think.

“Oh, shut up. Even your face… that’s why every girl wanted you, didn’t they? I thought I was used to that by now. You’re an angel, y'know that? When I stand next to you, even on stage, I just… I’m not as good, am I?” John’s voice almost seemed amused. Broken. “Everyone knows that. There’s a reason you’re the 'Cute Beatle’, Paul. I’m just the bad seed. A bad influence on McCartney’s kid, huh? Remember that?”

If John had braved to look at Paul’s face, he’d see one of concern. One of affection. The rest of Paul stood as stiff as John, not wanting to tell anything more than they meant to. Slowly, in a gentle voice, Paul soothed, “John, I never said…”

“You don’t have to,” John let go of Paul’s arm, pushing him away as he did so. Paul didn’t know why he was surprised when he caught John’s strong glare.

It was silent. What was to be said to help John see, to know that Paul wants him to be alright? There is no conspiracy. And Paul felt his chest twist in frustration because John was still acting like a child.

“I never said anything of the like, so why are you taking it up with me?” Paul said, words growing thick with disdain.

“C'mon, y'think I don’t notice the - the way you sneer at me?” John shook his head.

“Johnny - !”

“Get out,” John said lowly and his fingers began to twitch in his fist, reminded of the stupid piece of paper that started all this.

Paul let the silence hang there. It was suffocating.

“Get out!” John barked, harsher this time.“I can’t stand your bloody presence.”

“…I’m not leaving,” Paul croaked.

“What?”

Paul could see John’s expression clearly as he snapped his head up. It did not reassure him. Yet Paul didn’t waver from John’s fiery eyes, hissing, “You’re acting like a baby - ”

“You’re acting like a snob! A bleedin’ git! Because that’s what you are, McCartney! You’re some fucking idiot from Liverpool who made it to America because you’re the bass player in some dense band and you happen to have a pretty face!”

Paul looked blank, almost softened.

“You should’ve stayed in fucking Liverpool with Ol’ Jim McCartney. Have a happy little family because I think that’s what you always wanted.

"I don’t know why you followed me all the way through college and Hamburg and the fuckin’ Beatles. Like a puppy, infatuated with copying me - even my leather trousers. Picking fights with Stu just to get my bleeding approval, poor bastard. Y'know what? I think you’ll always be little goody McCartney’s kid. I don’t know how you ended up here!”

Paul scowled, “I’m yer partner! I did as much as you did to get here!”

“C'mon, Princess! You wrote some silly love songs and flash a smile and now you’re a king! But to be a Beatle… the people we were supposed to turn out to be… You’re not cut out for it, and you know it! Get back to the sweet little neighbourhood you came from, why don’t you? You don’t even like it here. You think I’m a bloody divvy, an idiot. Leave, then! Leave!”

These words echoed through their consciousness. Paul felt his throat hitch, and John’s eyes burned into his. The room got compact, every breath coming out hot and heavy. Every thought being pushed out by the need to make a mistake.

“Least I’m not fucking around on my own wife,” John heard, and it was like the walls came down. “You don’t even know your kid, Johnny.”

There was a small sense of victory when John’s eyes went helpless and lost. The fire went out for a split second before John realized who he was.

Before he could object, Paul was held up by his collar and knocked against the wall. Paul gasped, focused on John’s face, and neither said a word. Their stares killed each other. John’s lips were pulled into a thin line, and Paul hoped he’d second-guess himself. Still, Paul didn’t even struggle. He took the punch. The punch that was intended to knock a tooth out. It was solid, bony. Both felt the heavy thunk of Paul’s skull and the crack of his teeth. John watched it all unfold, ignoring the fact that he was doing this or that he was doing it to Paul. When Paul only inhaled a cool breath, wincing but keeping a strong face, John dropped him. He fell to the floor like a ragdoll and groaned. It was deep, gravely, and stubborn. Stubborn to make John feel like he just did something meaningless. Stubborn to tell John that it didn’t even matter.

John took control of his breathing again, staring down at the downtrodden Paul. He wished it never happened.

Paul looked up when the door slammed shut and he was alone again. He sat there, docile. If he stayed still, he hoped he could sink back into the ground and disappear. The sterile atmosphere tingled on his skin. His jaw began to get sore and he waited for his head to stop spinning so that maybe he could stand. Things were still fizzy. Anger settled in a pit somewhere in his stomach, not to be lashed out now. Sometime later. Later, perhaps. If the anger stayed. Sometimes it turned into a simple feeling of unfairness, of quiet bitterness. But somehow, right now, Paul worried about his attacker. No. His friend, his partner, who was stumbling through the streets and not thinking right. Who didn’t know what he was doing, who couldn’t control what he was doing. But it’s impossible to hold him back. John Lennon couldn’t help it. Paul felt a sharp pang of sadness for the lot of them.

#John Lennon #the beatles #Beatles #fanfic #drama #angst #beatles fanfiction #beatles fandom #john lennon angst #fanfiction #i dont know why i wrote this #Hey You've Got to Hide #writing #my work #my writing

4 notes · View notes

garyofrivia · 4 years

Text

For They Shall Be Satisfied

Arthur Morgan x OC

 Chapter 4

(masterlist in bio)

A/N: boy howdy, it’s been a minute on this one, huh? i’ve decided to not post this on AO3 anymore due to incredible typos and posting issues that i ran into. also, if you want to check out the other chapters, check my bio/page for the masterlist! i’m pretty sure tumblr is still weird with links in posts so this is likely how i’m going to handle chapter postings from now on. thanks to whoever reads, feel free to lmk what you think! i want to keep this one going for as long as i can... hopefully. Annie is a special one. enjoy <3

Warnings/Categories: Violence, Blood; Angst

(WC: 6,037)

“You boys ready to ride tonight?” Dutch boomed as he slung his saddle over The Count’s back. Annie looked up as she combed out Nero’s tail, studying Dutch as he worked.

“Aye, aye, cap’n,” Davey said, raising his hand in a mock salute while Mac giggled at his brother’s antics. Dutch just winked at the pair of them and carried on with his business.

Annie and the rest of the gunmen stood around talking for a while, double and triple checking their guns and ammo as they waited for the sun to sink down over the horizon. The temperature would surely drop once night fell, so she slipped on her dark jacket over a black shirt. Even on a ridge, her dark outfit would help her blend into her surroundings once the sun went down.

They decided to go with the original idea: three groups with three lookouts ready to raise the alarm at any sign of danger. They were to meet Benson and his men at the crossroads and head to the ambush site together. It was strange, being so uneasy about the plan. It was her idea, sure, but it wasn’t a good idea to move on it at all. The sunset caught her eye for a moment, all the orangey-red colors erupting over the Earth as a moment of clarity came over her. She couldn’t be distracted if she wanted this to turn out well. It was a silent promise she made to herself.

“It’s more beautiful that I’ve seen in a while,” Charles said, joining her at her side as she gazed at the horizon.

“Yeah, I haven’t seen it this red in quite some time.” Annie said, glancing at him as she absentmindedly adjusted the buckles on her saddlebags.

“Supposedly that means we’ll be getting good weather soon.”

“Good weather? Here? That’s likely.”

Charles chuckled lightly and returned his attention to oiling his gun. Annie caught Arthur’s eye as he was saddling Boadicea, strapping the girth as tight as he could. He hadn’t said much to her outside of hesitantly discussing details for the job. He glanced at Charles as he stalked away, and then back at Annie with a new look of tension in his eyes. She watched him angrily jam the buckle into place on his saddle and begin to adjust the rest of his gear.

“You good, Morgan?” she called.

He didn’t look up to meet her eyes. “Yep. You?”

“Yep.”

“Great.”

Annie nodded and hid a sly smile. Whatever he was upset about, it was something trivial for sure. He wasn’t one to keep his opinions to himself unless it meant he knew it was about something foolish. Not wanting to jump to conclusions, she bit her tongue as she thought of ways she could eventually confront him about his sour mood as of late.

“What are you laughin’ at, Princess?” Micah drawled, making Annie’s skin crawl.

“I caught a glimpse of your ugly damn face,” she said, eliciting a snicker or two in the background. “Couldn’t quite help myself.”

“Yeah, ha-ha, very funny. You’ll be thinkin’ about my face tonight in your dreams… amongst other things.”

Sean and Charles snapped their heads up in horror to watch what would happen next, but Annie simply chuckled. “You’re right! I’ll be dreamin’ about your face and how twisted it’ll look when I’m skinnin’ you alive.”

Micah laughed. “You’re a little firecracker, ain’t you?”

“Micah,” Dutch warned. “You keep provoking her like that, I’ll be tempted to cut her loose on you.”

Annie tauntingly snapped her teeth at him as he stalked away to finish readying up. Dutch shot her a knowing smile and she just shrugged. Even though he was newer to the gang, it was a common thing for Micah to let his mouth run longer than anyone wanted to hear it, especially if it was directed toward Lenny, Charles or any of the women. Annie enjoyed putting him in his place, though admittedly, he figured out how to push her buttons fairly quickly. It was almost admirable.

By the time the gang had shared cigarettes and a small bite to eat, it was dusk and Dutch called for them to mount up. As they took formation to ride off, Annie nodded to Karen who winked and cocked her shotgun to assume her place guarding camp. “Come back safe, y’all!”

“Men! Let’s ride!” Dutch bellowed and spurred The Count to a gallop and the wild faces of the Van der Linde Gang cheered and took off after him.

The thunder of thirteen horses racing across the plains would have been a fearsome sight to anyone. The ground trembled as they moved swiftly up the road in a tight two-by-two formation with Dutch at the head, Hosea and Arthur just behind him, and John and Annie taking up the rear. The rendezvous point was about a forty-minute ride north, though, it felt longer with the building anxiety in the air, no matter how hard Annie tried to ignore it. Arthur and Dutch began exchanging words up ahead, slowing the pace to a steady jog as they neared the location. She couldn’t make out what they were saying, but

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” John mumbled, low enough for only her to hear.

“Yeah,” she said, glancing over to meet his fickle eyes. “Me too. I… Let’s just get it over with.”

John looked nervous, but he nodded in agreement all the same. For a moment, she swore she saw Jack’s face flash before her. John had to stay safe for his son’s sake, if not his own.

Their posse moved at a steady pace down the road and with a glance around at the surrounding landscape, Annie knew they were getting close. Eventually, she heard a familiar whistle from up front. The riders slowed as Benson and a few of his men came into view just ahead on horseback.

“Hello, gentlemen,” Dutch said, riding up next to them.

“Mister Kilgore, so nice to see you again!” Benson said.

“I believe we can be straight with each other now, Mister Benson,” Dutch said, sliding down from The Count.

Benson sighed, resigning himself to the failure of his ruse. “Yes, I agree, Mister Van der Linde. I trust we can count on each other’s discretion.”

“Glad to see we have an understanding, then.”

“Certainly. Shall we proceed?”

“Of course.”

Annie was surprised to see that he only had three men with him. Though, that’s most likely why his “employer” was seeking the help of outlaws. He tensed when he recognized her, but he managed to smile politely. She tipped her hat and smirked, subtly reminding him that he was outnumbered if he felt the need to try anything.

Dutch confirmed the details of their plan and the diversion with Benson. There was an old abandoned house a few hundred yards off the road from where they would launch the ambush. Benson’s men would blow it up and make sure it caught fire to catch the attention of the escorts that were now all suspected to be lawmen.

“Lawmen?” Dutch asked suspiciously. “All of them?”

“We have scouts along the route,” Benson said. “In Van Horne, they traded their hired guns for deputies. Not to worry, this shouldn’t change a thing. In fact, we can use this to our advantage. Deputies will be more inclined to answer a call for help along their journey. It will work.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that it’ll work,” Dutch said. “I’m sure everything will go according to plan.”

“Indeed, Mister Van der Linde, it shall.”

“What my friend here is too polite to say,” Annie said and cleared her throat, drawing everyone’s attention to her, “is that if it don’t go according to plan, you’ll be the first one we come lookin’ for.”

Dutch turned back to Benson and clapped him on the shoulder. “She’s right, I am too polite to say it. But we have… an understanding. So surely that is not a situation that we will come across.”

Benson avoided her eyes and cleared his throat. “I assure you, I anticipate this to go off without a hitch. I know you all to be true to your word.”

Dutch laughed and mounted his horse. “Yes, that we are, my friend. Let’s get this show on the road, then! Shall we?”

“Alright, everyone split off,” Arthur said. “Mac, Bill, Hosea, Javier you’re with me. John, Lenny, and Davey, you’ll go with Dutch and Charles, Sean, and Micah are with Annie.”

“Cream of the crop,” Micah grumbled to himself but loud enough for everyone to hear. Annie glared at him as he rode over to join her, Sean and Charles not far behind. “Who organized these damn groups, anyways?”

“I did,” Annie deadpanned. She wanted to keep an eye on the loose cannon of the crew and Hosea had been more than happy to let her take that responsibility.

“Aw, you really are sweet on me, ain’t ya?” he winked at her.

Charles groaned and Sean chuckled. “Last person she’d be sweet on is you, ya ol’ sack o’ shit.”

Annie chuckled quietly. She always had a fondness for Sean and his lack of a social filter. Silently, she motioned for her counterparts to follow and started off to the top of the northernmost hill.

“Watch for Hosea’s signal,” Annie said. They could see the silhouettes of the men on the opposite ridge illuminated in the moonlight, one of them waving. She waved back to confirm they were in view.

“This could take a while,” Sean groaned.

“Yes, and you’d do well to keep quiet,” Charles said.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Ambush, or whatever. That Benson fella seems a bit curious, don’t ya think?”

“Shut up, Sean,” Annie said.

“I’m jus’ sayin’.”

“Hmm, I agree,” Charles added. “He was a bit fidgety. This could turn out to be more than it seems.”

“I’m countin’ on it,” Annie mumbled.

“That why it took so damn long for you fools to jump on this thing?” Micah asked.

“Shut your damn mouth and focus, idiot,” she snapped, shooting him a glare that could kill.

They finally fell silent and Annie turned her attention to the horizon where the house was set to blow. Any minute, they would be coming up on the horizon...

There they are. About a mile off, she saw the first of the riders pull into view, illuminated by their lantern lights. She counted six escorts and four wagons. Hosea waved his hat and she returned the gesture and while Lenny was out of view, she prayed he saw him.

“Here we go,” she said. “Masks up.”

“Oh, I’m fuckin’ ready,” Sean said, bouncing in his saddle.

Waiting for them to get in range seemed as if it took forever. Annie’s heart quickened with each passing moment, filling her with anxiety where there’d usually be adrenaline. The seconds ticked by excruciatingly slow, yet so incredibly fast. She could feel the tidal wave of chaos building and building, waiting to crash down into the gully at any second.

Hosea and he gave the first signal to Benson’s men, waving his white handkerchief. Within a few seconds, there was a massive explosion on the ridge behind him. The fire was quick to start, illuminating their silhouettes against the night sky with a haunting orange glow. Annie heard voices, Benson’s men, calling for “help”. The caravan stopped in its tracks and all but one rider took off immediately. She was almost shocked that it worked.

Hosea waved the rag in the air once more. Show time.

Annie sucked in a breath. “You’re up, boys. Get goin’.”

Micah, Sean, and Charles raced down the hill to meet the rest of their Van der Linde counterparts and Annie whipped out her sniper rifle. She’d removed the scope since it would just limit her visibility in the darkness of the new moon - It’s a trick she learned while hunting at night, even though it was far more difficult to hit a shot without the proper sights for most everyone. But she wasn’t most everyone.

The fire in the background illuminated the scene ever so slightly as the horizon glowed like an inferno. She scanned the terrain, alternating between her binoculars and bare eyes, looking for any sign of movement. They were clear for now, so long as they worked fast.

She kept on looking up and down the road and back at the gang. At the hills. Towards the horizon. Nothing. It seemed too good to be true. Surely someone would have heard the blast and would come to investigate. How much time had passed? It felt like it’d been an eternity.

The sound of snapping twigs behind her nearly made her jump out of her own skin. She whipped around, frantically shoving the bolt action of the rifle into place and bringing her grip up to aim.

“Who’s there?” she demanded a bit too loudly.

“Don’t shoot,” a familiar voice said softly.

“What the hell?” Madelyn.

The girl stepped into view from behind a tree. Her hands were raised in surrender and her fingers were trembling in fear. Even though Annie could barely see her face, it was certain that she was terrified out of her mind.

“Give me one goddamn reason I shouldn’t shoot you right here,” Annie threatened in a low voice.

“They’re comin’. The O’Driscolls, t-they know about the job.”

“What?”

“They… took me… and I-I was-. They’re comin’. You gotta get outta here. They wanna kill the lot of ya.”

“Why should I listen to you?”

She seemed exasperated and desperate as she spoke.“Why the hell else would I come up to you like this? I ain’t got no gun. I’m just tryin’a help.”

Annie thought for a split second. She was right, but nevertheless. this could be a ploy. Though, then there’d be no way Colm would ever pass up an opportunity for 10,000 dollars to risk sending someone to warn them as a distraction.

Annie made a split second decision, one that likely saved the lives of everyone in the Van Der Linde gang that night. She barely noticed Madelyn flinch as she swiftly traded her rifle for her revolver. She turned her aim to the sky and fired three times. She turned toward the road to make sure the boys were preparing to make their escape.

When a few moments passed, her stomach started to churn. No one was leaving. She heard someone shout but couldn’t make out who or what they said. She looked up to where Hosea should have been, but he was sprinting down the hill on horseback. She jumped into action, leaving Madelyn in the dust.

“What the hell is going on?” She heard Hosea yell as she rode up. “You heard the signal! We need to move!”

“We’re almost… finished,” Dutch panted as he slung the first saddlebag full of cash onto his shoulder.

“What is it, Annie?” Charles asked uneasily. “Why’d you sound it off?”

“It’s Colm,” she breathed. She could hear her own heart pounding in her ears. “He’s here.”

“Goddamnit!” Arthur cursed, kicking the wheel of a wagon. “That English bastard set us up.” “You seen ‘em yourself?” Micah said.

“That girl from the saloon found us and warned me. We gotta get outta here, now.”

“Annie, you can’t be serious,” Dutch said.

“Dutch, we don’t have time for this,” Annie said. “Why would she risk tellin’ me if it weren’t honest?”

“We stick to the plan,” Hosea declared, before Dutch could protest. “Split up everyone, and meet back at camp. C’mon!” He kicked his horse to a sprint. Lenny immediately followed, while Charles, Davey, and Mac swung up on their horses and chased after them. Javier hesitated, looking between them and Dutch, but eventually decided to take off.

“Damn it! We were so close,” Dutch said. He went to swing the saddlebag over his horse’s back, but a shot suddenly rang out through the pass. The bag exploded next to Dutch’s head, sending cash and coins flying in every direction. The Count reared, neighing loudly. Nero, as steady as he usually was, had also been spooked and started to pace. Annie tried to calm him as she turned and saw a horde indistinguishable silhouettes swarming the road from the west.

“Go, get outta here! Now!” Annie cried.

The remaining members of the gang jumped onto their horse’s back and took off in the opposite direction. She glanced over her shoulder and watched as Boadicea carried Arthur down the dark road. Everyone was in the clear. Wait… Not everyone.

Annie raced back up the hill. She didn’t know what came over her, but she knew she had to help Madelyn. If the O’Driscoll boys found her after she helped them, they’d most definitely kill her. Or worse.

She halted next to Madelyn and reached down with a steady hand. “Get on.”

“What? Why are you helping me?”

“Christ sake, get on the horse or get killed, I don’t rightly care.”

Madelyn nodded and hastily hoisted herself into the saddle behind Annie. She kicked Nero to a gallop and they started to make their retreat.

A shot rang out.

Annie cried out in pain and involuntarily kicked Nero’s side, making him skid into a sharp left turn. She toppled off his back and hit the ground with a thud, rolling clumsily to a stop, face down in the dirt. An indescribable pain overtook her body and her worst fear had been realized.

“Fuck! Fuck, I’m hit!”

Madelyn yelped and struggled to stay stop Nero’s back, but she gripped the reins so he would stop pacing nervously. “Shit! Are you okay?”

Annie ignored her and struggled to her feet, clutching her side where the bullet had torn apart her flesh - in through her back and out the other side. Warm blood was quickly soaking the inside of her shirt and started to pool where it was tucked into her pants. This ain’t good. This ain’t good, at all. She poked a finger through the hole in her jacket and groaned.

“Damn it, this is my favorite one,” she muttered. Her vision narrowed and everything suddenly seemed slower as the adrenaline started to kick in.

“What do we do?”

“You know how to ride a horse?”

“Y-yes.”

“Help me up, then.”

Maddie shifted her position into the saddle and held out a hand for Annie. She sucked in a breath and lifted herself onto her horse’s back, grunting as she held back a scream of agony. Her abdominal muscles were shredded just below her rib cage and she silently prayed that nothing important was harmed.

“Jesus Christ,” she growled through gritted teeth. They were chattering with the tension in the rest of her body, her mind getting blurrier with each wave of adrenaline being pumped through her veins. “Go that way ‘till you hit the river. Don’t stop.”

Doing as she was told, Madelyn urged Nero to a sprint and Annie clutched her side, trying to keep the bleeding to a minimum and to keep her balance on horseback without stirrups.

She took a breath and clenched her jaw. In a flash of urgency, she turned behind her and fired in the direction of the pursuing O’Driscolls, managing to tag one on the shoulder and knock him off balance. Aiming as steadily as she could, she fired again and brought him to the ground. She snapped her sights on the next target like she was aiming down a long tunnel. All she could hear was the sound of her own gun as it went off in her hand again and again.

BANG. BANG. Click. Reload.

Frantically, she grabbed six rounds from her belt and shoved them into the cylinder as fast as her fingers could manage. The pain - or maybe the blood loss - was blinding. Her vision was fading, slowly… and then quickly, in and out. One more shot. One more.

One more… Another rider toppled off their horse as she found her mark.

“Keep goin’,” she grunted as Nero started to slow his pace. They’d been running for a while and he wasn’t used to carrying two passengers.

C’mon boy. You can do it. She started to fire blindly to cover their backs, again and again. Her hands were shaky and slick with blood. Fumbling a bit more with her gun, gasping and grunting through gritted teeth, a few rounds slipped from her fingers as she reloaded. Focus. Focus, focus, focus… Feeling more and more unsteady, she gripped the saddle and tried to regain balance.

“You alright back there? Annie?”

She shook herself to consciousness. “They still chasin’ us?”

“No, they’re gone. I think you scared ‘em off.”

Annie tried opening her eyes, but she couldn’t even lift her forehead off Madelyn’s shoulder. “Keep… goin’.”

Each stride her horse took was a dull stab of agony. The constant movement was ripping apart each attempt her body was making to stop the bleeding. She didn’t even realized she’d fallen until she slammed into the ground like a sack of grain. It was a haze. The stars in the night sky swirled around her as if she was at the bottom of a tornado, looking up into the spiraling whirlwind of chaos.

“Annie! Shit!”

“Bedroll…”

“What-.”

“Bedroll. Get it… and a shirt… in the saddlebag.”

Madelyn did as she was told and retrieved the bedroll and extra shirt. She and spread the roll out and tried to help her move on top of it, but she swatted her hands away. Grunting, Annie took out her hunting knife and managed to cut out a long strip of the padded canvas, slicing it in half, working with her eyes half open and her whole world spinning.

“I can do this,” Madelyn said, trying to take the knife from her.

“No just-,” Annie groaned. “Help me patch it up.”

The blood on her black shirt made it look like an oil slick, as if she was an automobile leaking fuel. Maddie lifted it and there was a flood of red. It stuck to her fingers like tree sap, thickening every time she touched the fresher blood that oozed from the wound. She carefully placed the canvas padding on the dime sized opening in Annie’s abdomen. It was a scary thing that something so small could cause so much trouble.

“I’m going to roll over,” Annie mumbled, “and you need to get the other one on my back.”

Madelyn nodded and gulped, her hands shaking uncontrollably. She inhaled sharply and heaved herself off the ground, crying out as her weight shifted. Maddie helped her shed her jacket and pressed the second square into place, holding them together as if Annie would crumble into pieces if she let go.

“The shirt…” She tried to speak, but Madelyn was already tying the patches in place with by the sleeves. Annie had lost so much blood already, that she was starting to see in distorted colors. Red. So much red. It consumed everything, as if the earth had been swallowed by it. She knew she didn’t have long.

“Go on, get out of here,” Annie breathed. “I can’t…”

“No, no, no, we didn’t spend all that time patchin’ you up just for you to give up.”

“You can’t... lift me.”

“You’re gonna have to help me, then. C’mon.” She put Annie’s arm over her shoulders and snaked her own around her waist, careful to not put pressure on the patches. “One, two, three!”

Annie cried out as she stood, unable to form a coherent, thought let alone see anything beyond a few inches in front of her own face. Another round of adrenaline must have kicked in and she somehow made it onto the saddle, grasping onto the horn for dear life. Madelyn mounted behind her and put her arms around Annie, holding the reins out in front in case she fell again. She put her feet in the stirrups and peered over Annie’s shoulder, getting a clear view of the path ahead.

“Stay awake now, ya hear?”

Annie struggled against entering into a state of delirium. Trying to ground herself in reality, she realized something was missing… My hat! She groaned and let her head fall back against Madelyn’s shoulder. Madelyn… How kind…

“Annie! C’mon, stay with me.”

Annie ignored her panicked voice and said the only thing that came to mind. “Your name ain’t really ‘Madelyn’, is it?”

“No. It ain’t”

“What is it… then?”

“Jenny. Jenny Kirk.”

***

Arthur tapped his foot in anticipation as Dutch paced between the fire and the camp entrance. After everyone had split up, all but Charles, Javier, and Annie had made it back safe. It was risky returning to camp this early after a job gone bad, but they hadn’t been followed. Arthur figured that must have been what was holding up the rest of them.

“Damn it, Dutch, we had a plan,” Hosea said as he massaged his temple. “Why’d you pull that shit back there?”

“Pull what exactly, Hosea?” Dutch said, whipping around to face him. Arthur had been listening to them go at it since they returned. “You need to calm down, my friend. Everyone here is capable of handling themselves.”

“Dutch, he’s right,” Arthur interjected. “We knew Benson wasn’t trustworthy. It ain’t a matter of how well we can handle ourselves, cause that wasn’t no gunfight. It was a setup, plain as day.”

Dutch shook his head. “We needed that money, boys. If you’re not prepared to take a little risk for that, then I don’t know what to tell you!”

“It already was a risk!” Hosea said, exasperated. “That’s why we needed to stick to the plan.”

Dutch threw his arms up in defeat. “Well, it failed anyways, so why are we still arguin’ about this?”

The rest of the camp had gathered outside their tents to see what all the commotion was about. “What happened, Arthur?” Mary-Beth asked, pulling his attention away from the two men arguing.

“Just a job gone bad.”

“So no money?” Karen asked.

“Only a bit. Not nearly as much as we were countin’ on.”

Tilly joined them. “Have y’all seen Charles yet? Or Javier and Annie?”

Arthur looked through the trees and caught a glimpse of the empty road. “Not yet.”

“I hope they’re alright,” Mary-Beth said.

“I’m sure everything’s fine, Mary-Beth,” Tilly assured her, but her voice wavered enough for Arthur to tell she wasn’t entirely sure of her own words.

Just ask she said it, two riders appeared on the road and made their way through the trees. Charles and Javier.

“Boys!” Dutch called. “Good to see you back.”

“Sorry we’re the last ones to the party,” Javier said.

There was a pause and the air grew tense.

“You mean Annie ain’t with you two?” Karen said.

“No,” Charles said. “She’s not back yet?”

“We ain’t seen her, but I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Dutch said.

“That’s it, I’m goin’ after her,” Arthur stated, starting for his horse.

“Are you jokin’?” Dutch said, raising an eyebrow and stopping Arthur in his tracks. “O’Driscolls and lawmen are crawling all over these parts.”

“She’d do it for one of us,” Charles said. He nodded at Arthur. “I’ll go with you.”

“No, no, I need you both here,” Dutch said.

“He’s right, boys,” Hosea said. Arthur glared at him. “We can’t risk any other wild adventures tonight. She’s capable, she’ll make it back in one piece.”

Arthur let out a sharp exhale and eyed the two of them, unable to think through his own rage. Annie was capable, sure, but this didn’t feel right. Dutch had screwed her, screwed them all. He told them to keep on with the robbery when she gave the signal. If they’d just listened to her signal...

The energy of the camp rippled, voices murmuring around Arthur, wondering where Annie had gone. The atmosphere was growing thicker with tension and the anxiety welling in his chest made it so he could hardly breath. He couldn’t take it anymore. Just as he turned away to get some air, he saw something down the hill, across the river. A single black horse with two riders. Holy shit…

“Hello?” a small, female voice called out, just barely over the sound of the rapids upstream.

“Who’s that?” Dutch bellowed as Charles drew his rifle to his shoulder.

“It’s Nero…” Hosea said, his voice flooded with concern.

Arthur ran over to the ridge to get a clearer look. The black stallion was breathing heavily, glistening in sweat as he bowed his head in exhaustion.

“M-my name’s Jenny. Annie’s here with me, but she’s hurt real bad.”

“No, Arthur, wait!” Dutch said, trying to grab Arthur’s shoulder as he rushed forward. He shook the hand off and took off down the hill to the riverbank.

“Can you get him across?” he said, trying his best to hide the dread in his voice as he saw the limp body, slumped against the stranger’s chest.

Nero didn’t hesitate as he crossed the water, even though it was somewhat deep. The horse plowed through the flowing water and onto shore, almost as smoothly as if he was on land.

Annie was unconscious and the blood on her shirt glistened in the dim light of the distant campfire. Her face was white as a sheet and covered in a cold sweat. “Charles! Could use your help here!”

He heard Hosea call Grimshaw for assistance as John and Charles came rushing down the hill. They took in the sight of the wounded woman, speechless.

“Arthur?” Annie murmured, reaching out her hand to touch what she didn’t think could be real. “That you?”

“It’s me, alright.” He took her bloody fingers in his hand and squeezed.

“Damn it, I’ve died and gone to hell,” Annie said, a hint of a mischievous smirk on her face.

He smiled and shook his head. “No, not quite yet, Annie girl.”

Even though she was dressed in black, the slick stain of blood covered most of the right side of her body, from her ribcage to her thighs. Streaks of red matted stray hairs against her forehead, mixed with the tear marks on her cheeks and the sweat on her neck. He wanted to say he’d seen worse, and he probably had. But this, for some reason, shook him to the core.

He lifted her off the back of the horse and cradled her in his arms. She wasn’t light and his front was now soaked in blood, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. “Charles, hitch her horse at the posts, make sure he’s watered.”

“What about her?” John asked, gesturing to Jenny who was covered in blood herself.

“You, Miss Jenny, are with us now,” Dutch said, walking down to join them on the riverbank. “Go wash up, Miss Jones here will help you. You can have Annie’s spot until we find you a place.”

“Thank you, sir,” Jenny said with a breath of relief.

“‘Sir’ was my father,” he said. “You can call me Dutch.”

Arthur brought Annie up the hill as most of the camp watched. She was drifting in and out of consciousness, but at least she was alive. He gently laid her down on his own cot, making sure she was comfortable. She winced and her eyes fluttered open slightly.

“Step back, Arthur,” Grimshaw said, pushing her way into the small area, fresh bandages in hand. She replaced the bedroll patches slowly but securely, cleaning the wounds with what Arthur figured was gin as she worked.

“Ahh!” Annie yelped as the alcohol splashed into the open wound. “Huh. Nice to see you, Susan.”

“You too Annie, you lucky, lucky girl,” Grimshaw said. “Can I use your jacket, Mister Morgan? And will you give us some privacy?”

“Oh, uh, sure.” He said, shedding his coat and handing it over and turning away as Grimshaw carefully removed Annie’s tattered and stained shirt. She covered her so that only she could see as she wiped away the blood from the wounds with a wet cloth.

“Tilly, can you get one of Miss Bolton’s shirts from her things, preferably a light one?”

“Is she gonna be okay, Miss Grimshaw?” Mary-Beth asked with a look of horror on her face.

“Yes, Mary-Beth, she’s gonna be just fine.”

He saw her nod and bring a hand to her mouth, holding back a sob. The rest of camp was watching, but keeping their distance. He saw John say something to Abigail as she tried to walk over to help. She protested for a moment, but he pulled her into a small hug and shuffled her and Jack back into their tent. The suspense had settled since she was back and more or less in one piece, but Arthur’s own fists were clenched with anxiety.

“Arthur,” Dutch called, snapping his attention away from the scene. He and Hosea were standing back, trying to keep everyone from crowding around the lean-to.

Arthur sighed with frustration and walked over. “What is it, Dutch?”

“You alright, son?” Hosea asked.

“Yep.”

“Arthur…” Dutch said, studying him.

“I’m good.”

“She’s gonna pull through.”

“Yeah, I know.” The shakiness of his voice was hard to disguise. “She knew it was a damn trap, too.”

Hosea furrowed his eyebrows, giving him concerned look he hadn’t gotten in a while. “We can get you a bedroll. You can sleep in the-.”

“I’m good,” he said, cutting him off. “I got the chair.”

“Arthur-,” Dutch started.

“I know what my goddamn name is, Dutch, quit sayin’ it,” he snapped.

Dutch sighed and raised an eyebrow. “I was just gonna tell you to keep an eye on her for the night. That’s all. Make sure you get some rest.”

Arthur sighed and ran a hand through his hair, lifting his hat slightly. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

Dutch squeezed his shoulder and sent him back to Annie’s bedside. Grimshaw finished with the buttons on the fresh shirt and stepped back.

“I can keep an eye on her, Miss Grimshaw.”

“Thank you, Arthur. When you can, try to get her on her side, she won’t listen to me. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Of course,” he said. He suddenly recognized the white button up Annie now had on. “Hey, is that my shirt?”

“Yes,” Tilly said as she balled up a few bloodied rags to be washed. “I couldn’t find any clean light ones of hers, I’m sorry.”

He shook his head and forced a small smile. “No, Tilly, it’s fine. Thanks. Get some sleep, I’ll take it from here.”

Tilly nodded and took her leave. Arthur turned back to Annie, hesitantly. Her eyes were closed but she had a slight grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. He reached down to the end of the bed and pulled the thin wool blanket up to her shoulders.

“They put me in your shirt?” she mumbled, eyes still closed. “You’ll have to burn it now, surely.”

“Do you ever stop jokin’?”

“Only when there’s nothin’ to joke about.”

Arthur chuckled. When this had happened before, she almost didn’t make it. It was terrifying to watch her fight against seemingly unbeatable odds. But nevertheless, she fought hard and won. He feared she wouldn’t be so lucky this time around. He felt a sudden urge to take her hand. Like his, it was calloused and rough, but smaller and somehow more delicate. He held it gently and she absentmindedly squeezed one of his fingers.

She met his gaze and for a moment, Arthur saw the same sadness reflected in her cloudy, hazel eyes that had always been in his own. In a strange way, it was comforting to him. To know that he was just as afraid as she was, to know that the path ahead of her could prove to be treacherous. It meant she still was still breathing, her heart still pumping. It meant she had a chance. In that moment, somehow, they both knew everything would be okay.

“Get some rest,” he whispered.

She grinned and her eyes blinked closed. “I’ll rest when I’m dead.”

#rdr2 fic #rdr2 fanfic #red dead redemption fanfic #arthur morgan fic #arthur morgan x oc #rdr oc #my OC #my fics #annie bolton #for they shall be satisfied #ftsbs

6 notes · View notes

harryhighkey · 5 years

Text

netflix cheating

hiii my very first imagine on this account (i had a 1d account a v long time ago where i posted some other writings and stuff but we don’t talk about her) hopefully u like this!!!!!!!!! idk netflix has just had so many good shows drop recently and i felt a lil inspired!

have an idea for a part 2 of this, so if u like this and want the second part let me know :~)

happy reading

__________________________________________________

Are you still watching?

The dreaded pop up message had appeared before your eyes on the large television mounted on the wall.

Fuck. You cursed inwardly, you had just watched more than half the season of the new Sabrina series on Netflix. Usually that would be fine, considering you didn’t have anything that important to do today, except it wasn’t fine as you and Harry had planned to watch it together.

“Holy shit.” You cursed out loud this time when you picked up your phone and looked at the time. The hours had vanished and you groaned out loud before hoisting yourself up from the ultimate slouched position you had fallen into.

Being a binge-watcher was no new concept to you. You loved your television series and every character you got to know so well. But, god, this couch-potato habit had only increased after Harry gifted you a lounge that felt like you were sitting on a literal cloud and the massive television he had spent all day setting up in your little living room.

“Harry... this is too much.” You never expected extravagant presents from him, you never wanted him to think you were with him for what he had in his bank account.

“The polite thing is to just say thank you.” He smiled over his shoulder at you and you couldn’t help but feel your lips pull into a mirroring smile.

“Thank you, baby.”

“You’re welcome.” He had that cocky expression and you shook your head with a quick laugh. Fuck, he made you so happy. “Take a seat on the couch, ‘s real comfy.”

“Don’t want me to wait for you?”

“Gotta finish putting the tele’ up.”

“Ah, so we won’t actually be sitting on the couch for a good week.”

“Hey, now. You can’t rush perfection, Y/N.”

You smiled at the memory from only over a month ago, your eyes going to the free space beside you on the massive couch and remembering the very physical and intimate way you had shown your gratitude of the new gift. Something about the way he had a screwdriver sticking out the back pocket of his black skinny jeans really turned you on. And of course, Harry making a joke about christening the couch which quickly became less of a joke as the two of you did more than just christen that couch. Multiple times.

Just as if the Greek Goddess Aphrodite was watching over you, wanting you to indulge in the pleasure you were sinking into after remembering that heated night with Harry, there was that knock on your apartment door you knew was going to be your boyfriend.

Excitement bubbled in your stomach as you dashed to open the door. “Hey.” Unintentionally, your voice was lower, slower, more sensual, there was no hiding what you were feeling. Your eyes were a little hooded and as soon as you had opened the door and spotted Harry, your teeth sunk into your bottom lip.

As soon as he noticed your very alluring mood, he knew exactly how you were feeling and instantly his own excitement began to increase. “You alright, Y/N?” His voice had that deep tone you loved hearing in your ear just as you were about to climax and fuck, did you want him right there and then.

Harry was very aware of that fact as he lifted his arm in order to simply drag just one of his fingertips down the side of your face, he could see how needy you were, and you knew he was going to drag this out. Which you both loved and hated the idea of.

When his finger paused on your neck, he then just barely cupped his hand around the base of your neck. “Didn’t hear me?” His tone was slightly dominant then and your eyes snapped open wide as you met his heavy gaze, your lips were just barely parted in thrill for what else was to come if this was how he was acting already.

“Um.. Yeah, I’m alright.” You found your voice again as you stepped back, noting that the two of you were still stood in the open door way.

As Harry entered and closed the door behind him, he did a quick scan of your living area to try and get a hint of what had put you in this mood. That is until, something else got his attention.

“What were you watching?” He questioned as he spotted the Are you still watching? Screen on your television.

This puzzled you, because you knew he had just had a complete shift in mood. The question wasn’t playful, as if he was anticipating an answer of something like Fifty Shades of Grey. He turned to look back at you and you looked away. The flip of the emotion wasn’t what you were hoping for. You were hoping he’d stroll in and fuck you against the wall right beside your front door and for a moment you thought he would. How quickly that dream crashed down. You didn’t want to answer this time, you felt guilt that you hadn’t waited for him. He was sensitive, and you knew little things like this got to him.

“Y/N?” He pressed on, and a part of you guessed he had already switched on.

“Just rewatching Queer Eye.” A quick shrug of your shoulders paired with a smile wasn’t enough for him and when you saw him take a step closer to the couch you matched his movement, reaching for the remote but his longer reach got to it first.

Your vision stayed trained on the television as you heard the remote click and the screen changed to the episode listing of The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina. Last night, only two of the episodes had been fully watched by you and Harry. But now, seven of the episodes were watched.

“Fucking hell.” Harry muttered and you looked at him then, seeing his jaw locked tight and his face set in a frown. You figured he would’ve been annoyed but it would quickly become something the two of you could have laughed off. Now you weren’t so sure.

“I’m really sorry.” You apologised and moved an inch closer to him. You had anticipated him to sigh and turn towards you and tell you it was okay. Instead, you got the opposite.

“Sorry isn’t good enough, Y/N.” He kept his gaze locked on the television and you couldn’t help but to frown at his response.

“Harry, it’s fine. You know I love to watch things over and over, anyway. I’ll rewatch them all with you.”

“We were meant to watch them together.”

“We still can.”

“No we fucking can’t!” His voice raised as he finally met your eye sight. Both of your expressions challenging each other.

“Why are you so angry at me?! Netflix is right there, we can watch it right now.”

“I don’t want to watch it with you now.”

“Oh my god, you’re being so immature.” You verbally groaned and brought your hands up to rub over your face out of frustration. Although, upon hearing the remote being thrown against the couch followed by Harry movements, you were alert once more. “Where are you going?!” You swiftly moved to stand in front of your boyfriend, but once you were this close to his face, you realised just how angered he looked. “Hey.. what’s wrong?” An attempt to comfort him by trying to caress his cheek was cut short as he batted your hand away and glared back at you.

“You.”

“What?”

“You’re what’s wrong.” He snapped and you became defensive.

“Harry, I said I was sorry. It’s only a show-”

“It’s not about the fucking show, Y/N.” He admitted and with a mix of feeling guilty at the situation and not knowing what you had done to warrant this out burst, you began to feel your own anger growing in retaliation.

“You know, you’re being a fucking dick right now.”

“Coming from how much you wanted my dick when I walked in here, I’ll take that as a compliment.” He quipped back. He was stubborn, you were stubborn and when both of you were caught in this vague frustration, nothing was going to be solved.

“Fuck off.”

“Gladly.” You weren’t expecting him to head for the front door, but that’s exactly what he did.

“Why are you leaving?!” You yelled that time but it was more out of desperation than anger at this point.

He didn’t bother to turn back to you when he responded, his hand remaining on your door handle. “Jus’ sick of you letting me down all the time.”

Harry’s answer cut rigidly into your heart and you couldn’t find the proper words to respond with in time as he disappeared from out the door he had entered through before. Your mind was racing a million miles a second to try and think of what you could have possibly done - or not done.

You were drawing a blank, had you forgotten something? This couldn’t all of been over a TV show, it had to have just been the final fatal drop that was enough for Harry to crack.

Even as the hours of the night trickled on and you lay in bed wide awake, you still could not think of what else had happened. The few calls you attempted to make to Harry were left unanswered and as you signed and opened up the Netflix app on your phone to find something to watch to try and help you sleep. That fucking Sabrina show was the first title in your continue watching and suddenly, Netflix was the last thing you wanted to do.

ps, here's part two!

514 notes · View notes