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#i mean i don't get messages so its not hard to know its you but i know i post a lot through my queue so
yuyu1024 · 19 hours
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Babe
Pairings: S.coups × y/n
Genre/tags: protective/possessive bf
Warning: 🔞🔞🔞 fluff but smut, unprotected sex, pet names, cursing, semi public, handjob
~~~ [lmk if i miss anything]
Words: 3k
Disclaimers:
- this story is just made up
- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊
A/N: looong time no post. ✨️I was away... got sick and mentally not doing okay... and I dont think im 100% okay yet...Its been hard but still trying my best :)
i might be coming back to writing here and there... but not consistent. Hopefully you understand...
meaning, i will be a 🐌 in updating nor posting and won't be online mostly. 🖤
(i cant promise i can jump back to the Yoongi/Suga series yet also sorry 😭 hopefully one day but not soon.)
Me writing... is depending if im okay.
Also, Thank you for the kind messages in DMs. I really do appreciate them...even tho i don't reply 🖤 pls know its very helpful.
Thank you.
P.S its been a long time since i wrote anything so.... rusty.🥲 this is my just trying to get back to it.
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Seungcheol, your boyfriend, texted you to meet him at school. Which surprised you the second you read it because it has been weeks since he went to school.
He has been doing special online classes these past weeks as he can't walk. Yet. He slipped while playing soccer with the boys two months ago causing an injury on his left leg. It was very painful to watch him yell in pain during that game. It was supposed to be just a fun game with his friends and you and their other friends watching but yeah, accidents happen.
"What are you doing here?" You gasp the second you enter the University clinic and saw your boyfriend sitting and chatting with the school doctor.
"Babe." He smiles and opens his arm, asking for a welcome hug
"Babe!" You squeal and immediately run and hugged him tightly.
"I missed you." He mumbles lightly lifting you off the floor even he's sitting on the clinic's bed.
He never lost his strength.
"Ditto." You say and kissed him on his cheek before letting go. "Wait... why are you here?" You ask again. "He can go back to school now?" You turn to ask the doctor behind you
"He can. But I still suggest no." He folds the folder his holding and sits down on his desk. "He can walk now with crutches easily yes... but... going up and down... walking building to building to classes...." doctor shakes his head
"I'm just here to visit, babe." Cheolie says caressing your back. "To report my health to him... to let know the team..."
"Oh."
"I'm sorry..." he press his lips together and giving you an apologetic look.
"I'll leave you two to talk... I have to go on a meeting now in the faculty. Just let the nurse know when you leave okay? So she can assist you with the wheel chair."
"Okay, doc. Thank you."
And as soon as the doctor leaves and shut the door close behind him, Seungcheol immediately grabs you by the waist, pull you close to his body and leans in to fully kiss you.
It feels rushed at the beginning but as soon as you find the perfect spot to lean your body weight to his, it felt smooth and just sensational. You even opened your mouth completely to let his tongue explore you.
You two haven't kissed for awhile. The rent is due.
"I missed you so much." He whisper as he pulls away to take a breather.
"This is the longest we've been away from each other..." you say as you straighten your stand
"Yeah... I got busy healing..."
"And I got busy at school... and at home..." you answer as you sit down beside him. "How are you feeling at the moment?"
"Good....well.. better now that I've kissed you." He smirks and plants a tiny kiss on your temple
"Babe..." you lean on his shoulder
"You know you always make me feel good..." he chuckles. "Also... Doc said my leg is healing pretty good..."
"That's good to hear..." you stand up once again. "So... can I--"
And before you could ask him another question about visiting him soon at home Seungcheol kisses you on your cheek and then on the back of your hand.
"Thank you for always calling me... every night... making sure to check on me... give me updates at school and being an understanding girlfriend. Even though you are tired yourself."
"I didn't do that much." You say holding his hand. "If only I could visit you personally I would..."
But you couldn't. It's not like he leaves far away from you. It's just that you wanted him to just rest. You know how he is when he sees you. He gets excited and acts everything is fine even though he is in pain.
He would probably force himself to get up when you visit him. It's kind og his thing to show off he is strong. Especially to you. He is your alpha lover.
"No...babe. just you calling has saved me from a lot of bad moods and not doing my therapies because... I'm not in the mood." He kisses your hand again.
"Well I'm glad... I could help..." you say smiling.
"And also..." he then bites his lower lip whilst smiling. You already know what he's about to say with those cheeky smirks.
"Hush..." you cover his mouth with your hand, scared that he might say it outloud and the nurse from behind the door might hear. "That's for us only..." you whisper.
He is referring to the video call sessions you do every now and then. To help him when he is... sad and horny.
"You promised... no one should know..."
"Of course..." he murmurs, his mouth is still covered by your hand. "The images are for my eyes to see and for my dick to feel only." He adds and then playfully licks your palm, making you jump a little.
"Hey!" You slap him on his shoulder
He is grinning so much. He is enjoying your reactions. "You're so adorable being shy..." he puts his arm around your waist, securing you between his legs. "My shy little fairy..." he mumbles just before he kisses you again.
You don't deny him of any sort of making out. Even at the clinic. Why woulf you? You missed him so bad too.
So bad that even his hands is skimming your body and even lifting your short A-Line skirt, exposing your bum, just to squeeze it is fine. Perfectly fine.
"Wait." He pauses and looks you in the eyes. "You are wearing a skirt this short... with no protective shorts under?"
"Hmm?" You look at him, confused for a second. "Oh."
He is yout alpha, yes. And one trait of him that is very dominant is him being protective of you. He does not like anyone hurting you, being mean to you and most especially drooling over you. You are his and only his.
"What you mean oh?" He raises a brow. "Well? Why aren't you wearing one?"
You don't have a good excuse. You just forgot. Well... you have been forgetting since he have been away.
"Y/N..."
"You're now calling me by name...." you move back away a little. "I'm sorry... I have no excuse..."
"What if some maniac sees you? When you go up stairs? Or the elevator in the media building? You know its glass right? They can see... what if wind blows and..." he sighs, frustrated. "You know how most guys are."
"I know... I'm really sorry." You pout. "I didn't purposely forget it..."
You see the change in his mood. He is very possessive of you so you know that just the idea of any guy looking at you because they find you cute or have interest of being close to you and whatever, he's already on guard.
He sighs again and also he's already grabbing his crutches.
"Leaving already?" You say in the softes tone.
"Yeah..." he stands up and calls on the nurse for assistance.
"Okay..." you lower your gaze.
You are not sure how to tame your boyfriend since this time you know you are at fault for forgetting and breaking a promise you told him after he was told to stay at home.
You stand up and sling your bag over your shoulder. "Just... call me when you get home."
"I will not call you." He says as he sits down on the wheel chair. "You're coming home with me."
"Wait. What?" You ask
The nurse enters the room and greets the two of you.
"Ready to go home?" The nurse asks
"Yes." Seungcheol smiles at her. "I have a scheduled therapy this afternoon..."
"Oh... I see... goodluck then." She says as she helps to push your boyfriend
"Y/N..." he calls your name out again.
This is the second time he called you by name. He is clearly not okay with the skirt situation. This never happened before.
***
You both arrived at his parent's house. They welcomed you and hugged you even. They thanked you for being a support system for their son even though physically you can't come because, well, they know how their son acts around you.
It's not a secret that their son is so in love with you that he's very clingy and trying to act cool and such.
"I already made food for the two of you so just reheat it if you decide to eat later."
"Oh. Thank you Mrs. Choi." You say
"It's nothing dear... also... thank you for being his care taker for tonight... we will enjoy our night on out staycation at the city." His mother says
You are stunned to hear what Mrs. Choi just said. You can't react beside just smiling and nodding. "Ah... ahm... don't worry about us... I'm going to take good care of him."
"Thank you, again." Mr. Choi says.
"We'll get going now... see you tomorrow afternoon, dear." She says to her son who is sitting in the sofa drinking his cola.
"Have fun, Mom and Dad!" He waves at them
And as soon the door shuts and you hear the car engine from outside.
"What the fuck was that?" You stomp you way towards him. "Care taker... tonight?? Babe?"
Nonchalantly he answers. "You will be staying for the night here with me... until tomorrow..."
"Why?"
"Why not?" He looks at you with a coldest stare. "Do you have any other plans? Are you meeting with anyone?"
"No..."
"And then... stay...."
"But... my parents..."
"I already told them... they are fine with it."
"When?"
"I called them earlier... before I texted you to come to the clinic."
You are in complete shock. "Cheolie..." you whine
"Now, you're calling me by name?" He raises a brow. "Why are you acting like that? It's like you don't want to stay with me."
"That's not it."
"Then what?"
You sigh. You are lost for words.
Yes you should be happy you are spending time with your boyfriend but he could've told you. You would say yes if he asked or told you.
You are just stunned maybe or confused with him doing this too since he's been being snappy at you since earlier.
"Whatever." You mumble throwing your bag to the floor and just sitting down at the chair opposite of where he's sitting.
Now you are the one in the bad mood.
"I still have the clothes and undergarments you left from last time..." he then says in a much calmer tone.
"Okay." You answer not looking at him.
You are not mad at him. You are just not happy with what he did. He probably wanted to surprise you with the idea earlier but since it got ruined during your clinic make out session. Now things are...
"Babe." He calls you
You turn your head to look at him. He looks serene now.
"Can you please come here..." he says
You get up and make your way to him, to sit down beside him.
"Not there." He says holding on to your wrist and leading you to move somewhere else. "Here..." he gestures for you to sit on top of him.
"But... your leg..."
"I can manage..." he breathes and then tugs you down so he could kiss you, cupping your face with one hand.
Your hands are now on his chest for balance support. You tried pulling away from the kiss but
"Sit..." he says in between the kiss.
And you do as he says. Kneeling down on the sofa, legs spread between his thighs, you sit down on him and slowly put your arms around his neck.
"Cheolie..." your lips part ways as you spoke and he tries to chase the kiss again but you bite your lips together. "Wait..."
"Why...?" He pouts
"What are you doing?"
"What do you mean?" He runs his hands from your legs to your thighs and then underneath your skirt.
"You were just so cold to me... not even talking to me like I'm your girlfriend... and now you're kissing me and touching me..."
He throws his head back for a second and then sighs. "Babe, I'm sorry.... I was... well..."
"I said I'm sorry about the skirt... Don't worry. I will just wear pants starting on monday...."
"You sure?"
"Yeah... I promise." You kiss the tip of his nose. "I will just wear skirts when I'm with you."
"Really?" He raises a brow with matching smirk, biting his lower lip.
"Yeah..." you move your hips forward knowing what this tiny move will do to him. "I know you like to have easy access with me when we're together..." you softly say
He grunts as he feel you move a bit more. Rocking your hips over his erection that's sort of protected by his black jogging pants.
"I know what you're doing..." he hums
"And I know you like... what I'm doing..."
His smile goes ear to ear. "You're lucky I can't stand on my own yet... If I could..."
"What will you do?"
"Carry you over my shoulders and spread you on top of my bed..."
"And...?" You put your forehead to his.
"And...fuck you 'till dawn..."
Just the thought made you horny and wanting him. But since he can't do what he usually does to you, you decide to handle this on your own.
"You can still fuck me..." you say, grinning. "We have all night till tomorrow to find a way... a position you want me to be in."
"Fucking hell, babe." He grunts, sounding excited and turned on.
You adjust your position, making sure you can access him easily. Him meaning his long veiny length that's already leaking.
"Shit! Ah!" His mouth drops the second you hold onto him. His eyebrows is showing how he's loving the way you stroke and pump him. "Babe..." he moans. "Babe... aaaaahhh..." he throws his head back, his hands on his hair, trying to hold on to reality coz he is floating in heaven right now.
"Should I... let the tip touch me?"
"Touch... you?" He looks at you, brows furrowed from the high.
You already removed your panties off without him noticing.
"Yes... like this...." you then adjust your position back on top of him and lowered yourself just enough for the tip of his dick feel your entrance.
"Babe, fuck!" He snarls throwing his head back. "Your so damn wet already..."
You let him feel the wetness for awhile before you ease him in you.
"Holy... shiiiiit!"
"Ngggeeeaaah..." you breathe in as you suck him in whole.
"You're doing great babe." He pushes the hair off your face. "Don't rush it... just... feel it... feel me..."
When he's completely in you, you didn't move. You just hugged your man and took a breather.
"I can't believe my little fairy is being so daring..."
"Because I want to give you what you want... what you need..." you mumble on his neck.
"Babe, you know I can wait till I'm healed and ready to fuck you..."
"I know..." you look him in his eyes, "but I miss it too..."
"You do?"
You nod. "Us video calling... while we... you know... is not enough... I thought it was enough... but when I saw you earlier... I really did missed you more than I can imagine."
"You miss my dick?" He tease
"Babe!" You hide your face on his neck again.
"Ugh..." he suddenly moans. "Wow. I didn't know you get tigher when I tease you."
Seungcheol starts to move his hips a little, to ease dipper into you.
"Ah..." you exhale shakily. "Cheolie...hmmm...."
"You like that?"
"I do."
Then you start to move yourself.
You leaned back a little, pushing forward and pulling backward in motion to meet his slow but deep thrusting.
"Cheolie..." you cry his name as you feel like reaching your climax.
"Just let it go..."
"Fuck!" You throw your head back, panting and shaking. "Come with me..." you say, "come....with me..." you clentch more down there, making him feel the tightness.
"But babe..." biting on his lips, hissing and trying to control himself. "We don't have condoms."
"I don't care." You lean in for a sloppy kiss. "Come with me. I need to see you... melt with me..."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"Babe..."
"Please..." you beg, "I want to feel it..."
"Fuck it!" He snarls as he goes to squeeze your ass under your skirt as he picks up the pace with you
It's amazing how strong he is. Even with an injured leg he could lift his hips to meet yours.
"Aaah!!" You moan as loudly as you can as you felt something in you pop.
He growls as soon as feel his length starts to release and feel the warmth in you.
"Fuck babe..." he is panting. "Our first time you being on top..."
Embarassed after your orgasm, you hug your man and hide your face again. "I only did what I know and can..."
"You did amazing... your handjob is what I needed to get me into the a frenzy." Then he kisses the top of your head. "I fucking love you... whatever you do... makes me love you even more..."
"I love you too..." you go for a kiss again. But then burst into a giggle when you felt him move. "You are still in me... I can feel you."
A smile spread over his lips, "Maybe we should continue this on my bed. I can do other positions and pump more in you if you want."
You grin, blushing. "I'd love to."
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sunnyswide · 1 day
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Murderer POLY 141 x kidnapped reader
Part two of this
They all seemed to enjoy it at first but the longer they spent playing this “game” the more real it got. Their psychotic brains confusing obsession with “love”. No they didn't love you. At least, that's what they told themselves every day as they fucked your brains out. It was hard to just stay with one guy when they seemed to be forcing their ways into your life.. And you.
So instead you wanted to “discuss” the truths with all of them. You couldn't live in a lie, you either tell all of them or none of them and let them find out. The latter option was least desirable.
So you sent them a message, a quick meetup at a private joint 3 blocks down. A perfect underground cafe you always were fond of. The mood, the music, and the secrecy. Barely anyone knew about the place.
“Be there at 8, don't be late!”
You were scared sure, but what would go wrong?
Your hands fidgeted at the hem of your top. You couldn't help the jittery feeling racing through your body.
“Its going to be okay”
You whispered to yourself, trying to catch your quaking breath. Why was this so hard for you!? Its not like they were in love..
It was too late to back down anyway as you descended the steps toward the dim light. The air was thicker then usual, a familiar smell flooded the area.. It was overwhelmingly strong but you brushed it off.
The door opened with a chime, and the smell got stronger. It wasn't rotten.. But more ash-like. A strong burning smell with a mix of..
“Hey!”
You spot the group on the wall near the fireplace. They seemed to be getting along, chatting like they knew each other forever.
“What took ya so long” Gaz scooted over, setting the large black bag onto the ground.
“Should’ve came later, we were setting bets on how long it’ll take”
“Pay up soap, she came 10 minutes late, I win” ghost nudged Soap’s elbow, holding his hand out for the money.
“Stop playing around, the little lady here clearly got something important” Price stared at you calmy, he seemed to be the only one giving a shit-
You giggled at the sight. All of them seemed so close, it would be easy to assume they were friends from a glance.
“Do you guys know each other? Cause that would make this a lot.. Uhm worse”
“Course we know each other luv, we’ve been friends since.. Shit how long’s it been?”
Ghost leaned back, crossing his arms against his chest. Fuck this was going terribly.
“Cant remember”
Soap shrugged, taking another swish of his water, ice cubes clinking on the side.
“I guess we can talk about this over some food..”
You look around, finally realizing the place was quiet. Completely empty. The counter had no one behind it, the kitchen was silent and no one occupied any other booth. They looked at you, all smiles and rainbows, like nothing was wrong.
The air became thicker.. The fire burned brighter, dropping sparking ashes across the floor. They seemed oddly happy, I mean oddly happy like they didn't notice the place was a dead zone.
“So why’d you tell us to come here” Gaz slipped a hand over your shoulder, which didn't surprise anyone like you thought.
You clear your throat, reaching for your bag to pull out your phone. Yes you decided to write some notes on your phone to prepare.
“So.. Uhm you se-”
You look down at your purse, slipping your fingers into the smaller pockets.. Before noticing a small object at the front of your shoes. You realize the white material on the tip of leather was a surprising red.
“I wanted to..”
Your sentences were cut short as you slowly slipped your foot back.. A small puddle of blood smeared across the floor beneath where your shoes were.
“Go to the bathroom first!”
You smile, quickly standing up with your phone in your hand. You giggle awkwardly and calmly walk towards the lady's room. Quickly opening the door and gently closing it before you run to the sink. Your face flushed pale, as you feel yourself gag.
“A.. A TO- Tooth”
You scream impulsively.. Immediately covering your mouth with your hands. You watch the door through the mirror, praying none of them heard.
You look down at your shoe, it wasn't a hallucination, the blood still seeping into the leather, leaving a thin trail of drying blood across white tiles. You grab at your throat, trying to calm your breathing. No ones here. The staff. Cashier. Waiter. No one. No one is here.
You look to the door, only option was to book it right? The burning smell seeped through the doorway.. As you finally realize what that smell was.
The smell of Flesh
You run to the bathroom door, slamming it open..
“Hello princess.. All ready?”
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dfortrafalgar · 6 hours
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Looooooved ILY! Kudos! It was chair-gripping, tear drenching, rot your teeth fluffy and a bunch of other things in between! Brava! 🥰
If you're still accepting requests (I don't know if you have already been flooded by messages or not) I would like a story about being part of the Kid Pirates but reader is in a really sour mood because it's the anniversary of readers's parents death (you can make up a story if you'd like) and reader disobeys a direct order from him and, to top it off, reader talks back at him in front of the crew, earning the reader a severe punishment (up to you). Eventually Kid finds out why reader's mood is so sour and tries to talk it out except Kid can't be soft and that just makes things more awkward. Could be SFW, could be NSFW, I'm leaving all this up to you. And the ending as well because I only got that far. I hope you like the idea and get excited.
I love your work! ❤️🥰 Thank you for sharing your talent.
HI ANON!!! thank you so much for your request and your super kind words over IMLY, that means so much to me!!!! i know i keep saying this but yall make me smile every single day when i log onto tumblr and see your messages <3
I also really loved writing this request! i really love Kid, but i also wanna kick his ass on the playground if that makes sense, and i think that sentiment came through in my writing ;w; I hope you like it!!! and thank you again!!! (Also, i kept the reason for your parents' death ambiguous, because i know some people (myself included) read fics with their ocs in mind, so you're free to fill in the vagueness with your own personal ideas if you want!)
Feeling Overhaul
Eustass Kid x Fem Reader
The anniversary of your parents' death always leaves you feeling shallow, but your boyfriend's lack of social and situational awareness crops up to make your day even worse.
Warnings: SFW, hurt/comfort, reader being understandably upset, descriptions of an argument with some veeeeery slight verbal abuse, once again hurt/comfort, hurt/comfort. communication is key loves
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Your sour mood had been steadily building over the last few days, but your sorrow reached its peak on the last day of the week, according to the barely legible crew calendar that was based off of when the messenger coos arrived with the weekly paper.  It was a day you despised thinking about, the memories associated with the day leaving your throat tight, an uncomfortable malaise in the pit of your stomach.
All things considered, you thought you were doing a decent job at keeping your emotions in check while performing your usual duties on the Victoria Punk.  The bow of the deck needed a thorough scrubbing, a few spots in the walls of the crow’s nest needed repairs from a recent run in with a smaller, weaker pirate crew, and a few secondary sails needed their holes patched up.  It was a perfect day to distract yourself from your woes.  Drowning your discontent in your work had become quite a valuable skill.
Until you slipped on the soap that lathered the hard wood of the bow and fell flat on your ass.  When trying to stand, your hands gave out under you and you hit the deck once more, one of your crew mates tossing you anxious glances as you struggled to regain your bearings.  Climbing up to the crow’s nest, you were plagued with a sudden wash of grief over the day, so much so that you lost your grip and slipped down the Jacobs ladder, your foot catching on one of the wooden rungs beneath you.  Wire was directly under you, climbing as well to assist with the crow’s nest repairs, and his method of helping you after your slip involved gripping your arm so hard it left a bruise.  You bit back your tears at the pain of your crewmate’s hand around your limb and the humiliation of almost falling 12 feet onto the hard wooden hull, but you once again bit back your shame and finished your arduous climb up.
By the afternoon, word had gotten around the Victoria Punk that your work was lacking, that you were clearly struggling with something, that perhaps you weren’t feeling well.  When it finally got around to Captain Eustass Kid, who doubled as your beloved partner, he was less than pleased.
The last thing he wanted to do was deal with your emotions, and the last thing you wanted to do was deal with his abrasive, apathetic attitude.
“Care to explain why the hell the entire crew has caught you slacking off today?” he demanded, thundering toward you in one of the upper corridors of the ship’s hull.  You were still returning some of the tools you had used to patch up the ship’s sails when he accosted you in the hallway.  It was almost dinner hour, and many of the crew were bustling through the same corridors finishing their afternoon tasks before meal time.
“What?” you snapped back, caught off guard by his threatening question.
“Don’t ‘What’ me.  Why have you been tripping and falling everywhere?  What kind of joke are you trying to play?”  His face was angry, livid even, not granting you even one second to explain your plight.
Your eyebrows furrowed.  “I’m not trying to bumble around the boat like an idiot.  I’m just not feeling well and haven’t been able to focus.”
Kid scoffed.  “Then get over it.”
Perhaps you were being irrational, but at the same time, you had officially had enough of the entire day.  You dropped your supplies on the floor around your feet, heat radiating off of your body in waves.  “What did you just say to me?”
Your captain bent down to be at your level, which was insulting to your current state.  “Get.  Over.  It.”
Anger boiled in your lungs, lighting your heart on fire, blinding the corners of your vision with a fuzzy white light.  You tried to turn your back to him and escape down the corridor, but yelped when Kid grabbed your wrist and pulled you back toward him.
“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong with you?” he asked.  He really couldn’t control the sound of his voice, regardless of his current emotion, and the volume of his shouts filling the space made your body tense up in fear.  Eyes watching the scene unfold around you widened.
Around the corner behind Kid’s back, Killer darted forward, alerted to the sounds emanating from the narrow passage.  “Kid, chill out!”
“Are you going to care about me any more if I tell you?” you demanded back, trying to pull your wrist away from his grip.  His flesh hand held firm, however, almost burning your skin.  He shrugged Killer’s own hand off of his shoulder forcefully, completely ignoring his friend’s plea to calm himself somewhat.
Kid rolled his eyes.  “It better be damn important if it’s got you almost falling off of the Jacobs ladder.”
You steeled yourself, sucking in an uneasy breath and facing your stubborn partner head on.  “Today’s the anniversary of my parents’ death.  I’ve never been able to feel alright when I think about them.”
There was a brief, uncomfortable silence that floated between the two of you, the air in the hallway thrumming with a suffocating tension.  Kid’s grip finally relaxed on your wrist, allowing you to yank it away and rub your sore skin.  His red-painted lips finally parted, and all he graced your ear drums with was, “That’s it?”
Your heart dropped.  “What do you mean ‘that’s it’?”
“Parents die all the time.  What makes today so different?”  His narrow eyes were back to their scathing glare.
At this point, however, you had had enough.  You were practically shaking with a barely contained rage of your own as you stepped closer to your captain and spat in his face, causing him to stagger backward, giving you enough space to let your emotions bubble outward.  “I don’t have to tell you shit if you’re going to talk to me like that!  In front of the entire crew?!  Just because you’re my captain doesn’t mean you get the excuse to accost me in the hallway and berate me for slipping a few times.”  You frantically dug through your brain for words to add to your outburst, perhaps asking how he had the sheer gall to have such an attitude toward you despite dropping his walls and being so kind toward you on an average day, but all you could muster in response was, “Fuck you, Kid.”
You stepped away from him, narrowly missing another one of his lunges to get you to stay.  His voice was low and intimidating.  “Don’t talk to me like that.”
“Then don’t tell me that my day of grieving is stupid!  Fuck!  You!” you spat back, finally turning on your heels and sprinting out of his reach, down the hallway and into the ladder well into the lower deck, desperate to get as far away from your captain as possible.  You knew he was prone to struggling with empathy, and kindness had never been one of his strong suits, but to be talked to in such a way, have your feelings belittled after you had almost severely injured yourself as a consequence of your lacking mental health, hurt more than a stab to the liver.
Kid’s burning gaze followed you as you fled, harshly turning on his own heels to slink to the galley and drown his frustrations in whatever liquor the crew had acquired from the last island.  He bumped Killer’s shoulder, forcing the blonde to the side.  The crew watched as their captain rounded the corner out of sight.
---
You didn’t arrive for the dinner call, your usual seat left unfilled and the plate uneaten.  A few crew mates who hadn’t witnessed the explosive scene from an hour ago asked around for your whereabouts, but the only one who bothered to stand up and search for you was Quincy who quickly ate her meal and abandoned the table.
Kid was pounding back alcohol like no one’s business, leading to many a concerned glance.
“Kid,” Killer muttered.  He rested his masked head in his hand, desperate for context at what he had previously run in on.  “What happened?”
“Nothing,” the red-head grumbled, throwing back another mug of golden beer, some of it dribbling down the side of his mouth.
The few straggling crew members who remained around the large dining table shared worried looks.
“It’s clearly not nothing,” Killer countered.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” snapped Kid.  Even at the age of 23, he was still no better than a bratty little child when things didn’t go his way.
Killer dropped the subject with a sigh, the sound escaping the holes in his mask with a subdued hiss.
Quincy, on the other hand, carefully opened the door to the women’s bunk room where she found you, curled on your side on the mattress that used to belong to you when you first joined the Kid Pirates, your face buried in a pillow and your shoulders shaking with silent sobs.
“Darling,” she cooed, silently tapping across the floor to sit on the side of the bed, her gentle hand ghosting over your arm.  “What happened?  Why didn’t you come to dinner?”
The sound of her voice unraveled you from your coil, your tear-stained face and puffy red eyes meeting her concerned stare.  “Kid and I had a fight,” was all you said.
“About?”
You rolled onto your back, clutching the pillow that was thoroughly drenched in your salty tears to your abdomen.  “Today’s the anniversary of my parents’ death, and when Kid asked me what was wrong, he told me, ‘What makes today so different, parents die all the time.’  Like…?” your voice wavered, “Who says that?  And to his girlfriend nonetheless!”
Quincy made a disappointed tsk sound with her tongue, sympathetically rubbing your arm through the sleeve of your shirt.  “Honey, he’s stupid.  But still, he was wrong to speak to you like that.”
You sniffled, wiping some snot from your face with the arm that wasn’t being caressed by your close friend.  “I know… but it still hurts.  I wish he could just… I don’t know… be nicer to me?”
For what it was worth, both of you knew that Kid wasn’t truly ‘stupid.’  He was strong, strategic, and resilient, but when it came to matters of the heart, his brain dwarfed to the size of a peanut.  It was only a matter of getting the headstrong captain to realize how he had truly hurt you.
“Honey, sleep in here for a few nights to get a proper rest, away from him,” Quincy offered, standing up from her seat on your mattress to approach one of the wardrobes, pulling out a comfortable shirt and baggy pants to relax in.  “Let this blow over for a little while, and then you can try to talk it out with him.  We can help if you need it.”
You sat up yourself, gratefully taking the clothing from her arms, a small smile on your lips.  “Thanks, Quin.”
The curly-haired woman left the bunkhouse to let you change, passing by Killer trudging through the hallway, a towel draped over his scarred arm.  “Hey, have you talked to Kid?”
“He’s drunk off his ass right now,” Killer grumbled, dragging his free hand down his mask in a display of exasperation.  “I couldn’t get him to tell me what happened, but he’s gonna be out of it for the rest of the evening.”
Quincy bit the inside of her cheek as she assessed the first mate’s message.  “I’ll tell you.”
---
It had been about three days since the argument Kid had blasted you with in front of your crew mates, your humiliation and anger toward your captain burning a hole into your lungs.  You couldn’t contain your tears for at least six hours after your initial outburst, the grief of losing your parents in the way you had all those years ago now partnered with the anguish of screaming at Kid… and spitting on his face.  The act was so beneath you, and yet.  Dive and Hip, who had seen the argument first-hand, had helped to assure you that you weren’t in the wrong for what you had said, reassuring your stance that Kid was far too intimidating when all he wanted was a simple answer for your strange behavior.
Heat had come to you with a covered plate containing the dinner you had missed, informing you that Kid still had a very poor system of managing his emotions.  While you understood this first hand, being his partner for the better part of a year, you still didn’t believe that was a proper excuse to diminish your emotions in the way he had.
After those three days of your absence, strategically avoiding him at all hours of the day, Kid was fed up.  He needed to talk.  His bed was too empty without you.
Killer told him it would be a bad idea to call you to his quarters, but he did it anyway.  And when your anxious knocking reverberated through the thick wooden door of his cabin, he was quick to call your name and grant you entry.
You stepped in, shutting the door softly behind you, keeping your head low.  Kid stood from his mattress, clearing the floor in broad steps and trying his best to lay on the charm, wrapping his large arm around you and cooing his best, casual greeting, “Hey, babe, I’ve missed you.”
You shrugged yourself away from him, your eyes downcast.  You looked… hollow.  “Did you want something from me, captain?”
Kid felt a foreign pang deep in his chest.  You hadn’t been referring to him as your boyfriend or partner.  Right now, he was strictly ‘captain,’ and that notion left him feeling far too empty and vulnerable for his liking.
Fuck, he wasn’t good at this in any way.
Your gaze bore scorching holes into his own eyes, silently demanding the apology that you knew you deserved to hear from him.  With a deep sigh, Kid turned around and stomped back to his mattress, dropping his head into his hands.
“I didn’t know your parents died,” he blurted.
You stayed quiet.
“I don’t know what you want me to say.”  His voice was a low grumble.
You suppressed a scoff.  “How about, ‘Sorry for yelling at you in front of the crew?’  Or, ‘I’m sorry for saying that your feelings don’t matter.’  Something like that, maybe.”  Your voice, in comparison, was eerily level, your time to be physically upset with the situation having expired two days ago.  Now all you were left with was an uncomfortable feeling of unease, a hole in your heart where Kid usually sat now being emptied and replaced with a barren cavern that desperately wished to be occupied by the man you loved once more.
Because you really did love him.  You knew his lifestyle, his behaviors, his tendencies toward cruelty.  And yet, he remained kind toward you.  He allowed you to open up to him and did the same in turn, and he nestled himself perfectly, albeit clumsily, into your life.  You didn’t want to lose that.
Watching as Kid clearly struggled forming those two little words on his tongue was like watching someone perform self-surgery.  His pride had impeded his sense of empathy for so long that the simple notion of apologizing was such an estranged concept for him.
How stunted.
But you held firm, remaining in front of his closed door as he kept his head in his hand, his thick fingers teasing through his slightly greasy red hair.  After what felt like an eternity, he finally picked his head up.  “I’m sorry.”
There it was.
He continued, sucking in a shaky breath.  “I really didn’t know it was the anniversary of your family’s death.  I wish I asked you about it sooner instead of… that.”
You stayed quiet.
“... Instead of yelling at you like that.  And attacking you for something that was out of your control.”  He kept his voice low, as if he was carefully picking out his words from a small bucket inside his thick skull.
After a few uncomfortable moments of silence, you released the tension in your shoulders with a sigh.  “And I’m sorry for spitting on you.  And for cursing you out.”
“No, you shouldn’t apologize,” Kid stated, finally picking up his head and gazing at you, his eyebrows furrowed.  “I deserved it, really.”  His fingers anxiously rubbed the rough fabric of his pants.  “Killer sat me down and gave me a bit of a beat down.  Physically and verbally.  Because I know I’m not good at this.  I’m not a good person.  And I really fucked up with you.”
You remained firm with your feelings, but you finally approached his bed and sat next to him, leaving a comfortable gap between your bodies that your captain, your partner, didn’t try to close.  He kept his distance from you, silently ensuring that you were allowed, and encouraged, to open up to him when you were the most comfortable.
“I just want to make sure that you actually mean it,” you whispered.  “And that you’re not just saying that without believing it.”
“I mean it,” Kid confirmed, his voice unwavering.  “I really do.”
You gazed at him apprehensively.  “... Promise?”
Silently, Kid held out his pinky toward you.
You looked at his finger, confusion glossing your features.  “What are you doing?”
“Have you never made a pinky promise before?” he asked.
Your mouth threatened to curl into a small smile.  “Can’t say that I have.”
Kid released his hand only so he could take yours, folding your fingers down so only your own pinky stuck out from your fist.  He repeated the motion with his own hand, curling his smallest digit around your own.  “It’s a promise that I mean what I said.  Killer and I used to do this all the time as kids.”
Your composure finally broke as you snorted, your own finger curling around his.  “That’s sweet…”
“The point is that, if I break the promise, you get to break my finger,” he explained.
“Suddenly everything makes sense,” you uttered, your lips finally curling into a grin.  “Don’t give me an excuse to break your finger.”
In response to your lighthearted plea, Kid raised his hand with yours still attached and pulled back down in a handshake gesture.  “Never.”
Your finger stayed curled around his as you gazed at your hand.  “I’m still kind of upset with you.”
Kid’s shoulders stiffened.  “I get why.”  After you stayed silent for a few extra moments, he finally asked, “What can I do to make it up to you?”
Your eyes bore into his once more, his gaze remaining steady as well.  “You can start by not jumping to conclusions… or being accusatory without any context.”  You sighed.  “I’m not telling you to change your entire personality, Kid, because I know who you are.  And I fell in love with the normal, regular You.  But I just ask for a little bit of kindness.”
Kid released your pinky in order to lace his entire hand with yours.  “I’ll give you more than a little.”
“Or I can break your pinky?” you asked once more, another small smile breaking out on your face.
Your partner grinned.  “I’ll throw myself overboard if you ask.”
You finally closed the gap between your bodies, tentatively laying your head on his shoulder.  “No… I wouldn’t want to lose you like that.”
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one of the bad things about having such low social energy/social anhedonia/little interest in interacting with others in any capacity/ Hermit Disease™ is that like.. once every FIVE months here and there I’ll get fleeting bursts of social energy and will message one or two people to catch up with old friends or etc. and then it’s like... 
tfw you message someone and then wake up the next morning to see that they REPLIED to your message so now you’re actually supposed to message them back, which is an obligation you were somehow not expecting despite the fact that YOU sent them a message 
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#I feel bad because it's like.. I know I WAS THE ONE who reached out to you but also I have depleted all of my energy stores and have like no#capacity to respond that this point.. Which usually I'll get to it in like 2-7 days and people who know me (people who I would actually#message) know this/are aware it doesn't mean anything/are okay with it so its not really a big deal but still lol#girls and squirrels i am so sorry i dont know what to tell you but I have Disorders gjhgbhj#oh same thing when someone messages me and then I respond and I'm like 'whew finally got that off the to do list! now I dont have to worry#about social interactions for the next few days' and they RESPOND to my RESPONSE within like 30 minutes of sending it#so now I'm back at the point where I owe them a response even though i JUST crossed that off my to do list ghbh#And there's some people out here who are like 'omg.. if people don't text me back in 30 minutes then they must hate me! i want to be texted#back immediately. true friends will drop everything theyre doing just to text you!! >:T' whereas I'm like#god if I reply to you and you reply back to me within less than 24 hours I'm going to scream... just give it a good 2 or 3 days.. let the#message sit PLEASE.. it's social buffer time.. let's recharge our energy... the the conov age like a fine wine#(unless it's urgent. obv if we're coordinating plans or scheduling something we both must reply promptly exactly)#AND ALS THIS IS just a caveat of text communication like I HATE text communication. another reason it's SO hard to find new friends is that#nobody wants to just talk on the phone/discord voice chat/Some Medium Of Real Time Audio Communication anymore#everyone is like.. 'oh just send short little messages through a stupid fucking chat client or text me or message me on a social media' and#it's like.................................... no........ i dont think I will#Real time communication is SO MUCH faster and more efficient like. It would take me 2 hours to type something that I could say in a 30 minut#e conversation. People who I have genuine conversations with (like 5 hour long talks) are the ones who are not afraid to just be like#'yeah i have somehting I want to talk to you about. can we schedule a phone call thursday at 10:30am?'#also like.. if you text me at 3pm I am not going to respond to the message (depending on the contents-obv will reply sooner if#urgent) probably until 3 or 4 days later. If you call me at 3pm then we're talking at 3pm for as long as you want (or as long as is practica#l - also assuming I'm not already in the middle of something etc. etc.)#Like phone calls/voice calls/whatever - are so good because it's immediate. no having to go through and spell check. I am also a rambling pe#rson with complicated thoughts and i AM INCAPABLE of having short conversations. no matter how hard I try#you send me a sentence of text and I will write back 3 paragraphs. this makes text-form communication THAT much more taxing and time consumi#ng  - whereas I can explain even really complicated things in Real time in like 20 minutes MAX when it would take 1.5hr to type and proofrea#d and etc. in text. ALSO I love that it is a Structured ONE TIME interaction. I know eactly when a phone call will start and can plan for#when it will end. Text form communications are ongoing background interactions with no clear start or end. no structure. etc.#in person/phone/real time communication is just SO much easier for my brain to process and depletes my social energy slower#. it stinks that the entire earth is slowly moving away from the only form of social interaction that is convenient to me lol.. BUT ANYWAY
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I don’t have a bias per se, it’s more like a scale from “i happy when I see your face” to “you’re cool but not really my vibe”. Chan, Changbin, Han and Felix are definitely in the first category, Lee know and Seungmin in the latter. Hyunjin and I.N are in the middle.
What got you into kpop? (I have been a kpop fan on and off since like 2010)
I’m pretty new to the markiplier fandom 🙈 After running out of podcasts to listen to I gave the edge of sleep a try and I just loved Mark’s voice. How to marry a voice??? This was my real introduction to him. Which is odd because I watch matpat’s stuff a lot (I know everyone likes to hate on mat but I like his stuff. And I actually met him at vidcon some years ago anyways) I was never into Let’s plays, so gaming yt as a whole went totally over my head. I’m sad that I’m so late to the party. My younger self would have loved Mark too 🥲
Ahh yeah same! That's pretty much how I am to but a lot of people don't accept that as an answer about having a bias lol
See I'm on the opposite end I've been watching Markiplier since like 2014ish cause my friend loved him and I just have watched his stuff ever since! That's a really cool way to have found Mark! He really does have an amazing, inchanting voice (which if I'm honest sometimes i watch him play a game i have 0 interest in just cause i know listening to him is gonna be an experience lol) so I understand why you looked into him and are enjoying the weirdness that you found!
Also I don't care what others say I adore MatPat and the content he makes (and that's awesome that you got to meet him! He's like one of the few YouTubers that genuinely feels like he is
As for how I got into K-pop I just kinda finally dived in after graduating and feeling like I finally had the time to invest in something I knew has its own lexicon of things I would have to learn to understand it and the community! But I had been interested and kinda admiring from afar since like 2016-17ish just kinda afraid since the one person I had experienced that was into k-pop was someone I didn't like and kinda just made me have that mental connection of "people I don't like, like this so I probably won't" but after hearing of a lot more groups other than BTS (who i do enjoy but that's who the person I knew was very into so as i said i assumed i wouldn't like) I put it back into the back burner since I love all kinds of music and realized it's more of an umbrella genre than a specific one. And especially once I learned that dancing was heavily involved since I've always loved watching people dance!
So yeah Long Story Short: I adore music and Dance so once I felt comfortable with learning new things I just dove in and am so glad I did! (And much how you are about Mark I'm kinda sad I didn't do it sooner cause I would've loved it when I was younger! But also like the idea of experiencing Noeasy Era SKZ as it was happening is terrifying especially as someone who has been dying their hair bright orange since like early 2017 and had never seen another human do it)
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ao3commentoftheday · 5 months
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I've got a question about the general feelings? etiquette? of commenting on in-progress fics with "so excited to read this when its completed" or something along those lines. Because I personally like them, and thought they were generally well recieved and encouraging, aka I've seen authors replied positively. But then the one time I tried to leave a similar comment, the author basically went "I don't know why you comment if you hadn't read it." So, whats the general feeling?
Oof. This is one of those things that's kind of a crap shoot anon. Some authors will take it as a compliment, others will absolutely hate it. It all comes down to how that author feels about readers who don't read works in progress.
Some authors don't post their works until after they've finished writing them - or at least not until they have enough chapters finished that they have a buffer built up and then they can post on a schedule. Other authors post each chapter as they write it.
In either case (but maybe more so for the latter group), authors rely on getting feedback as they post a work in order to know that the work is being received well by its intended readers. If there's silence (a lack of kudos or comments), the author might decide to stop posting the work. They'll assume no one wants to read it and therefore they shouldn't bother to post it.
For a writer in that mindset, someone saying they won't read it until the work is complete feels... bad. Like that person doesn't want to support you during the hard part (writing and posting) and is only going to show up when the work is done.
An even bigger factor, and one that could be in play no matter how the author goes about writing their story, is that comments are kind of a big deal to most writers. They're few and far between and each one is precious because it's a signal that someone is reading and they care and they're telling you that they're reading and they care. But your message explicitly says that you're not reading (yet) - which some authors may take to mean that you don't care, but which either way means that they saw that wonderful comment notification only for it to be "check back later".
Obviously not every author is going to feel this way about things, but I hope that by explaining why some might you can understand it a bit better? Some suggestions for other comments that might be more universally appreciated:
this is just the kind of fic I love!
this one's going in the bookmarks!
this is such a great premise!
All of which you might mean, but they leave out the part where you won't be reading the fic itself for weeks and/or months.
I will caution, however, that if you leave a comment like this when they post chapter one and you don't come back again within a couple of chapters, a certain percentage of authors (and it's not a small percentage) will assume that you loved chapter one and hated chapter two and that's why you didn't come back to comment again.
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theplumsoldier · 5 months
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sore loser
summary: the scales of your rivalry with joel miller tips in his favor as he calls out your mistake and you end up a loser. the classic "you hate your partner but fucks him anyway"
pairing: mean!joel miller x afab!reader
warnings: 18+ please and thank you, hate sex, rough vaginal sex, spitting, slapping, choking, fingering, squirting, sloppy/rough blow job, degradation, age-gap, begging, biting, mean!joel, forced orgasm & multiple orgasms, tasting joel's blood?? no aftercare please let me know if i missed anything!! (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.)
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You hated everything about him. You hated the way he looked, the way he spoke, and the way he walked. You hated how he was always confident, how he was always right, and the fact that he always knew which buttons to push. You hated how he was a better shooter than you, how he was better at finding supplies than you, and how he was better at tracking than you. You hated his salt-and-pepper beard, the curls in his hair, and his sun-kissed skin. You hated his brown eyes, his deep voice, and his large hands. You hated how he treated you like a child, how he called you "kid", and how he looked after you.
Most of all, right now, you hated that he shot the clicker before you managed to put a knife to its skull, how he made it look like you couldn't save yourself. He took the win and he got the point.
It was a game and you were losing this battle for dominance, and you hated losing to Joel Miller.
You had been biting your tongue so damn hard to keep yourself from stooping down on his level and the taste of blood lingered in your mouth for about 4 minutes before the last straw had been drawn.
Joel just couldn't stop himself from being an ass and work in yet another one of his snarky remarks.
"Get over yourself, Miller. I had it handled," you grumbled.
"Sure looked like it," he retorted sarcastically, making scattering noises as he dug through a crate in the warehouse.
The way he didn't even bother looking at you only made you more furious. "How the fuck do you think I survived this long on my own, huh? I've been—"
"Ask myself that every time I save your ass," he interrupted mockingly.
Your blood was boiling in your veins. He felt so fucking superior and it was driving you insane. You knew your worth, but for some reason, you had this crippling urge to prove yourself.
"Somebody needs to knock you off your fucking horse, Miller."
Joel chuckled grimly. "S'that right, sweetheart? Wanna give it a go?"
His infuriating words made you stand to your feet, and frankly, it excited Joel to see you acting like you might just do something about it.
With a groan he got up himself, easily towering over you. You swallowed harshly, jaw clenched.
Joel's face was set in a firm expression, dark eyes analyzing your face to predict your next move. It was a face-off.
There was a subtle smirk and you wanted to wipe it off so badly. This was entertaining to him—a challenge he joined, a game he played just for the kick of it.
You couldn't win a fight against him, you were smart enough to recognize that fact (at least for now). So you breathed out, your nervousness drawing out a shaky laugh.
"I hate you," you spat and turned around, sure you'd only dig a deeper hole for yourself if you looked at him any longer.
"That what you tell yourself when you dip your little fingers down between your legs?" he wondered aloud, not even testing the waters but diving head first into the lake of all your buttons that he planned to push: "Don't think I don't hear you moaning my name when you get off in the night."
Your eyes went wide and shame colored your cheeks pink. You hoped he wouldn't notice as your eyes shot daggers, completely dumbfounded, hoped your anger had already made your face red. You were at a loss for words, completely and utterly embarrassed.
The mixture of emotions compiled a message to your brain for you, and before you had a chance to regret it, you lashed out. Your hand stopped clenching and raised to deliver a well-deserved proper bitch-slap, but Joel caught your wrist. It all happened quickly, and it felt like you were watching on rather than being forced back against the wall, arms suspended against the cool and rough cement in his grasp.
Joel's head cocked, eyes blazing down at you. "You wanna try that again, sweetheart?"
The sudden close proximity made you involuntarily grind your hips forward.
"So that's what all this s'about, huh? You’ve been givin' me that bratty attitude 'cause ya got your panties in a twist?"
"Fuck you!" you snapped, the words seething through your grit teeth, leaving a bad aftertaste on your tongue.
"But that's what you want, innit sweetheart? Goin' around acting like I'm the devil's spawn, but really you just want a good fucking, yeah?"
You hated how he was always right.
Your arms strained in his grasp, writhing to get loose though the heat pooling between your legs protested. You enjoyed having him this close. You could smell him, see him.
"You're so fucking full of yourself, Miller," you snarled but had stopped trying to fight off his grip.
Joel chuckled down at you, tutting: "F’you wanna be full o' me, too, darlin', all you gotta do is ask nicely."
There was no fucking way he was actually offering to fuck you. It had to be a dream. A nightmare. But it wasn't. And he was offering exactly that, you realized as his head tilted. He was dead serious.
You knew it wasn't out of the good of his heart, so he must be wanting this, too. And if he needed it as much as you did, you were going to make him work for it.
You ground your hips into his again, this time very much on purpose.
"Tell me you don't want to bend me over right now, Miller," you leaned forward and whispered in his ear, letting your lips graze the soft flesh of his neck. His cock was hard against your cunt and he didn't do a thing to push you away. "Tell me you haven't just been dying to try out this tight pussy. An old man like you can't have had a proper fuck in ages."
He laughed. "Swallow your pride, sweetheart. You've never even been with a real man before, have ya? Always waltzin' around in your short skirts at the Byson, whoring yourself out for attention from those boys."
"Knew you'd been checking me out," you smirked, the movements of your hips now a consistent grind against him. "But you're right. And those boys can't help, they dunno how to handle me."
"I don't do charities, darlin'. F’you want me to fuck that shitty attitude out of ya, you're gonna have to prove yourself."
This time around, Joel pushed his clothed cock against your pussy and you knew what he wanted.
You wriggled your hands, inching closer to his face but never letting your skin touch. "Kinda difficult to get on my knees when you’re holding me like this, innit?"
Joel let go only to force you down on the ground, but you didn't protest. You had lost all filters, all of your arrogance as you were faced with his cock prodding at the zipper of his jeans.
Looking up as you eagerly undid his belt, you were pleased to see him inhaling deeply, proudly as he looked down on you. You pulled the zipper down, and your breath hitched as his cock saluted. He wasn't wearing underwear.
His cock was thicker than you had imagined, girthier than what you had felt while fingering yourself that night which he had so mockingly reminded you of. Long with a slight curve and a purple mushroom head unscathed. A drop of pre-cum covered the slit and you imagined it was crying for you.
"You gonna put that bratty little mouth to good use or do I gotta do that for you, too?"
Instinctively you glared up at him, giving him a look but it was washed away a second later as he took charge.
Grabbing a fistful of your hair, Joel forced you onto his cock, not giving you a second to wet your lips or spit on it. Harshly pushing you down on his cock, you found that it wasn't needed, there was plenty of saliva in your mouth to lubricate him. A whimper left you when his head hit the back of your mouth, your throat automatically constricting at the sudden intrusion. You felt your cunt mimic the reaction and clenched around nothing.
Joel was heavy in your mouth, the thickness making you worry the back row of your teeth would scrape him. If they did he didn't care, for when you looked up at him through teary eyes he was unconcerned.
He forcefully prodded against your throat, slipping in just enough to push further and you gagged.
Joel inhaled sharply. "S'a tight little throat you got there. Guess you haven't been whoring around as much as I thought," he chuckled, holding your face pressed firmly against him, your nose nuzzled in the patch of curls.
He held you there for a couple of seconds, allowing your throat to get adjusted despite acting seemingly careless about how you felt. A moment later he pulled you off by your hair, and you gasped hoarsely, blinking up at him through the tears slowly blurring your vision.
Hovering over you, Joel cupped your cheeks and lifted you slightly, bending down as he did. For a second you thought he was going to kiss you, but his fingers dug into your face, forcing your mouth open for him and he spat on your tongue, an obscene look on his face.
"Eyes on the price, sweetheart," he chuckled and landed you back on your knees.
With his hand holding you tightly by a makeshift ponytail, Joel pushed his cock back into your mouth and without warning, set a brutal pace sure to give you a headache. As slick gathered between your legs, a migraine was the least of your worries. You snaked a hand between your legs to relieve the tingling strain.
The breaths you were granted came in between the thrusts and you squeezed your eyes shut, feeling dizzy, prompting him to yank at your hair.
"Look at me," he grunted coarsely, voice going straight to your sex and you ground down hard on your hand, gasping for air. Joel admired your puffy lips, smeared with saliva, strings of drool connecting your mouth to the tip of his cock. "You look like a fuckin' mess, sweetheart. This what you been thinkin' about, hm? Been thinking 'bout acting like a little slut f'me, huh?"
His degrading words fueled your fire, both making you want to bite back at him and make him come down your throat. Opting for the latter, you tried to take him back in your mouth, wanting to put your adjusted throat to good use, but he yanked you back. A whimper left your lips and he slapped your cheek, forcing you to look at him.
"F'you know what's good for you, you'll answer when I ask you a question."
Wet and needy, you didn't hesitate. "Yes! Yes, Joel," you cried, one hand on his hip for purchase, the other hid between your legs, fervently toying with your clit. "Wanted you to treat me like a whore! Wa—wanted you to fuck me stupid!"
That's when he noticed your hand between your legs, eagerly seeking out friction. His brows connected in a crease of anger, and he had you on your wobbly legs one moment and hurled you onto a dirty surface the next.
"The fuck you think you're doin', huh? Touching yourself without permission?" Joel growled and for the first time his disappointment got to you.
He held you by your throat and you could feel the calluses in his palm scrape your skin.
"M'sorry—couldn't help myself," you babbled feverishly as he shoved a hand down your undone pants, feeling just what you had been so disrespectful to touch.
A guttural moan escaped him and you could have died just then, knowing you did that to him.
"Christ, sweetheart. You got this wet from chokin' on my cock, huh?" he mused absent-minded and you couldn't decide which you liked more; Joel calling you "sweetheart" or— "such a fuckin' slut.”
You were startled but thankful when he pulled down your jeans in one swift movement, exposing you to the cold air in the warehouse.
He didn't give you a warning before he plunged two fingers into your cunt, curling them against the velvety roof of your wet cave. Clawing onto his shoulder with a gasp of surprise, you instinctively tried to lift yourself and relieve the overwhelmingly intense feeling.
"Where you goin', sweetheart? This not what you wanted?" You desperately wanted to slap the grin off of his face, but he had you completely wrapped around his finger. Literally and figuratively. "Didn't you wanna be used like a little slut, hm?"
"Please," you begged, drawing the word out with a rugged moan and clutching to his shoulders. "Ff—uck!"
He fingered you at an unforgiving pace, three fingers and his palm slapping against your cunt each time. The squelches from your pussy resonated off the bare walls and if you hadn't been so focused on the pain mixing with pleasure, you would have been ashamed Joel was the one making you this wet.
"Joel!" you cried, tugging at the front of his shirt. "Plea-please! Need your cock!"
He choked you with his unoccupied hand, forcing your face inches from his. "Quit whinin' or I'll leave you 'ere," he threatened.
You looked up at him through hooded eyes, unable to comprehend your increasing lust for him from being this close. Joel's breath was hot on your face, breathing his air, you became dizzy from a mix of him and your impending orgasm.
"That's right, sweetheart, cream all o'er my fingers," he beckoned, feeling your contracting walls squeeze his fingers. Your legs were trembling, wanton moans spilling from your lips as Joel pulled an orgasm from you.
You incoherently begged him to fill you up, wanting nothing more than to milk his thick cock, but when he caught sight of your pleading eyes, he applied pressure to your clit instead. It was sore from the heel of his palm having slapped it repeatedly and it made you unable to come down from your high properly.
Your legs spasmed as his torturous fingers brutally skirted across your bundle of nerves. Before you could process what happened, a gush of pleasure sprayed from you.
Your cheeks flushed pink, realizing Joel had just made you squirt. You had never done that before, and you looked at him with an expression of surprise mixed with confusion. He looked proud.
Joel groaned as he stroked his throbbed cock, smearing the precum over the head while his other hand pushed down hard on your belly, holding you just at the edge of the table.
Stammering his name, your attempt at any sort of coherent sentence was foiled as he slid his girthy cock into your cunt.
Your eyes fluttered shut, walls clenching around him. You had never felt so full. "Joel—" you shuddered, gripping his bicep for purchase.
A string of curses left his lips, a crease knitting his brows together in concentration. "Fuckin' hell, sweetheart, s'a tight lil' hole ya got 'ere."
Joel wanted to take a moment just then, revel in the sweet clench of your pussy, catch his breath but he knew you would notice. As much as he had a hidden desire to ruin every other man for you and have you tail him like a lost puppy, he refused to acknowledge how overdue this was.
He didn't give you another second to adjust before he rocked his hips back and slammed his cock back into you. If you thought his fingers hit a spot, his cock fucking destroyed that.
You couldn't even form moans properly as his hips rutted at a bruising pace, expertly molding your cunt to fit him. His face contorted and he grumbled something under his breath, but you didn't care to ponder what as he filled you up. You were still dazed from the previous orgasms and it was like he wouldn't allow you to come down. Your ragged breaths, his grunts, and the wanton sounds of skin slapping filled your head as you soared around on cloud nine.
A large hand snuck under your shirt, the calluses on his palm rough against your skin but you loved the feeling as he squeezed your breast, thumb and index pinching your nipple.
Your knuckles turned pale from clutching down hard on his shoulders, fingernails clawing indents at the exposed skin on his neck and collar.
You hoped the crescents would outlast this moment, that Joel would curse at the sight the next time he looked in a mirror. You hoped he wouldn't be able to get this moment out of his head then, not ever, thinking back to this moment whenever he would see the scars you left on him.
A hiss escaped you and tore the thought of making your mark out of your mind. His deft fingers were rubbing your sore clit once again.
There was determination on his face and animalistic hunger in his dark eyes—he looked as if there was no getting through to him, like he was stuck in a world of his own.
Whether he insisted on drawing orgasm after orgasm out of you for your pleasure or his ego, you did not know. Joel always had something to prove—to himself or the people around him, it was another thing about him you didn't know. In this moment, as he chased every high for you, you didn't care either.
You hated him for making you feel this good. Hated him for making you moan in pleasure, hated him for making your legs shake uncontrollably. You wanted to taunt him, crack a spiteful comment about his age or something, let him know he wasn't doing as well as he thought—but he was. You could lie, but your body would betray you.
There was no snide comment left in you as Joel's hips pistoned into yours. It felt too good. He felt too good.
"S'too much," you gasped and held onto his shoulder, not pushing him away but not pulling him any closer either. "I can't."
The pressure on your clit was too much. The frantic rubbing, the harsh pads of his fingers, mixing pleasure with pain in the most unforgiving way. It hurt too good to want to stop him, though.
Joel surprised you, pressing his forehead against yours. His eyes were heavy, and his jaw was slack, the blissful expression ruined by a smug chuckle.
"You can. C'mon, sweetheart, I believe in you," he tutted like one would to a child riding a bike for the first time.
It spurred something inside you, the degradation. Your hooded, watery eyes caught sight of his plump lip through the blur and without a second thought, you lunged forward and bit it, your teeth piercing the soft skin.
It was the closest thing you would get to feeling them, you knew it, and you weren't about to beg for a taste.
A slap landed on your cheek, sharp and stinging, but he kept his hand there on the side of your face, cupping it in an almost endearing way.
Joel hissed at the taste of blood—surprised but not disgusted. The hand cupping your face in the sweetest way turned to force your mouth open, and you grinned bitterly when he spat on your tongue, tasting his blood.
His thrusts became more frantic, the pad of his thumb sloppily skipping over your clit as he draws your pleasure out. Forcing you to look into his eyes while you come around his cock, Joel's too far gone watching you to notice the way his balls tightened.
"Fuck—"
Slick with your juices Joel slips out of your clenching pussy, jerking his cock a few pumps as he hisses, strings of milky sperm decorating your abdomen.
Your heavy breaths hang in the room like thick syrup, bodies sticky, tension at a maximum as the lust turns back to hatred.
Joel moves from you with a grunt, a sly smirk on his lip as he moves his gaze from the mess on your stomach to your eyes. He leaves you to clean yourself up and tucks his softening cock into his pants, the zipper resounding comically loud through the silence. It reminds you of a secret between children, zipping your lips close as a solemn pledge.
It was over and it would never be brought up again. As you did your best to clean up, get back into your clothes, and comb your fingers through your hair, your eyes were trained on Joel's back—if eyes could kill and all that.
At once, you were back to hating one another. You hoped your nails had dug deep enough into his shoulder, hard enough to leave scars.
977 notes · View notes
luveline · 18 days
Note
do you have anything more from office frenemies with james? i just read it and i loved it so much
yes! love u ty
—you and James don’t get along until you kind of, sort of do. fem!reader, 1.5k
James listens to the most obnoxious playlist in the mornings. There’s about a fifteen minute window between when he arrives and when the workday officially starts, which coincides exactly with your window. He often gets the same elevator ride, walks a pace beside you, and decides whether he’s going to let the ‘lady’ go first through the door depending on the day. 
That morning, he’d opened the door widely, grinned at you with music blaring loud enough to make a normal person deaf from his earphones, and let you pass. Then he pretended to stick his foot out to trip you up, pulling it back at the last second. 
Jerk, you think, angry even now as he tucks himself into his desk, his earphones still ridiculously loud. He actually, genuinely, is going to get hearing damage. You’re not being bitter. Human ears aren’t meant for that. 
You click onto the workplace Outlook and open a tab on your desktop. How loudly can you listen to music? you google. A few articles appear straight away that fit your purpose —you drag them each into an empty email. Then, smiling to yourself, you find an article on the negative effects of workplace noise pollution and how this sort of selfishness can affect your coworkers’ mental health and add that at the very top. 
Hi James, 
please find attached a few articles I felt might be important for you to read.
Worst, 
Your unhappy adjacent desk. 
You know he’s received it when he laughs loudly, turning down his music with a few quick clicks on his phone. 
An email comes through to your inbox shortly after.
Hi bestie, 
I’m so so sorry for the noise. Please find attached a few articles I, in turn, felt you might enjoy. 
Best, 
James Potter :) 
He’s attached an irksome variation of articles. Why music can help you get ready for the day. Ten ways workplace friendships are important. Can you really find your soulmate at work? 
You open your personal messaging system. You tend not to use it with James, but this morning he’s winding you up. 
I could report you to HR for that last one, you send. 
He replies quickly. You try very hard not to look up at him from over your desktop. I didn’t mean me. 
You’ll be deaf by thirty. 
Jealous you don’t have such great taste in music? 
Jealous of everyone in the annex. 
Want a cup of coffee?
You meet his gaze finally over the computer, find him already looking at you. You shake your head scornfully. In what world would you ever want him to make you a coffee? He’s never actually offered to make you one before, to be fair, but he’s awful to you so what are you supposed to think? He’ll probably poison it. 
He stands to leave. Remus, the other accountant to complete your trio, arrives while he’s gone with his boyfriend Sirius in tow. They’re also James’ best friends, unfortunately. It makes for some awkwardness. 
“Where is he?” Remus asks you, in the midst of a quick goodbye kiss before Sirius makes his way to his desk further down the office. 
You nibble your lip and give a dispassionate shrug. You hate talking about James. You hate his stupid mess of hair, his reading glasses, his lips when he smiles crookedly and worse when he’s glaring at you. You hate the way he sighs as he clicks his neck, the quick lap he does every other hour complaining of tired legs, the genuine tenderness he shows you whenever you’re sick. You hate James. You don't like to think about him too much lest you get caught, a fish in a net.
Or a fish with a painful hook in its lip. 
“Ah, you’re here,” James says, two cups of coffee in his hand. 
You’re only a little heartbroken when he puts one on his desk and one on Remus’. Didn’t want one anyways. 
Remus grins as James comes up behind him for a rough hug and hair ruffle. “How was last night?” 
“I wish you’d come. Sirius spent all night trying to out drink Marl, you know he can’t, so I spent all night holding his hair out of his face. I wasn’t gonna talk to him this morning, but he was being very pathetic.” 
James laughs. You pretend you aren’t listening to them, pretend you don’t feel left out even if they have no reason to be your friend, clicking at random things on your screen and scrolling through spreadsheets long finished and filed. “You know I couldn’t come, Moony,” —no point starting on their awful nicknames— “what if she needed me?” 
You still. She? 
“James, there’s not much you can do,” Remus says gently. He’s a quiet, soft sort of man, but they’re all so loud about loving one another. “You have to let her… you know.” 
You feel them both looking at you, your gaze steadfast on your screen. 
“Try not to think about it,” Remus says. 
“I’ve been distracting myself,” James agrees. 
Oh, you think. Oh. I’m such a dick. 
“You could go home?” Remus says, putting his face in his hand. “I could cover you.” 
“It’s too much work.” 
“I know, but, you know, I’ll do half, and you’ll only have half to catch up on when you come back.” 
You’re not sure who she is, and you very much still don’t like James Potter, but you're not heartless. He sounds awfully upset, fragility to his voice and a foreign balling of his fist by his hip. “Um,” you say, clearing your throat weakly, “well, with me and Remus, we could cover for you.” 
James’ face is unreadable, looking down at you. “You’d cover for me?” he asks. 
“Your work isn’t exactly hard, James.” 
“But you’d do it?” 
“How long will you be off for?” 
James frowns. “Like, two days?” he says quietly. 
“That’s fine. We can do that,” you say, checking with Remus from around James hip. “Yeah?” 
“Of course,” Remus says quickly. 
James looks at you long and hard. “You’re not kidding?” 
“No, James. Not kidding. You’d do the same for me, right?” 
James leans down to hug you before you can stop him. His arms wrap around your shoulders, a perfectly amicable touch made up of sleeper muscle and the attractive smell of almond oil, nearly sweet, slightly woody. He laughs against your cheek as he pulls away, turning back to Remus for a similar hug. “Thank you. I’ll go tell Danny right now.” He beams at you. His relief is thick as honey, palpable in his warm tone. “Thank you.” 
You can’t look at him very long. 
The memory of his fingers linger, the weight of his arm behind your head. He excuses himself to go talk to your boss, and you and Remus sit in a semi-awkward silence, of which you’re wholly responsible. 
“His cat is dying,” Remus says eventually.
You wince. “Oh, no, really?” you ask. 
“He’s had her since we were kids. It’s really nice of you to do this.”
“I really do think he’d do it for me,” you interrupt. “I’m not, you know, cruel, because we don’t get on.” 
“I know. James knows that too.” 
You want to get defensive. Why does it matter if James knows? But Remus is too nice to argue with, and secretly, strangely, you’d wanted James to know you aren’t mean. You wouldn’t have sent him that email this morning if you’d known, and maybe this is apology enough for that. 
Still, it doesn’t feel right when James returns, gathering his suit jacket from the back of his chair. “Thank you guys, so much. I will bring you the most amazing desserts of all time as a thank you. I won’t even put your mug on the top shelf the next time I wash it,” James promises you. 
You bat aside the rage of knowing he’s the culprit and instead get out of your seat before he can leave. “Uh, James?” you ask. 
He raises his eyebrows. “Yeah?” 
You look at the floor by his shoes. “About earlier…”
James stands subtly between you and the bulk of the office. “You okay?” 
“I just– I’m sorry for complaining about your earphones. I wasn’t trying to be insensitive.” 
“You weren’t insensitive,” he says, “I was being obnoxious. Don’t worry about it, okay?” 
“I–” You hate yourself for all your stammering. “Hope whatever is wrong, that you’re okay. I’ll cover for you for the week if you need me to.” 
“Please stop feeling sorry for me. It looks weird on you. I much prefer you when you’re frowning, you get these super deep wrinkles in your forehead that I just love.” 
You turn away without looking up. “I’m gonna input all your sales information wrong.” 
“And I’m gonna bring you the best donut you’ve ever tasted to say thanks, sweetheart.” 
935 notes · View notes
tarotwithavi · 9 months
Text
Random messages for you from your future lover/future spouse
18+ messages in some piles
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How to choose a pile?
Take a deep breath and close your eyes. Kindly ask your spirit guides to show you the right pile for yourself and then open your eyes. Whichever pile catches your attention is the right pile for you.
These pictures belong to their rightful owners.
Masterlist
Paid services
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Pile 1
"I want to bite your neck and leave my mark there"
"I love the way you walk"
"you look absolutely gorgeous from behind"
"God really took his sweet time creating the masterpiece in front of me"
"I want to worship every part of your body"
"all the lonely nights were worth waiting for you"
"In your arms, I have found my home."
"With you, love is not just a destination but a beautiful journey"
"I will buy you every book you like, but there's a price you must pay"
"In a world of billions, you're the only that makes time stand still"
"The darkness inside me is really to consume you, however I am scared of the consequences"
"If you had any idea about what I want to do to you, you wouldn't be standing here challenging me"
"I want to know everything about you, your likes, dislikes, what makes you happy, what makes you sad, every fucking thing"
"Your whispered desires set my soul on fire"
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Pile 2
"You think you can run away from me love?"
"I crave you, I desire you, I want you. In. every. way."
"I love the way you look right now. You don't need to change anything"
"You're flawless. People who find flaws in you are blind"
"tie your hair up. Show me your neck"
"Your presence lights up my darkest night"
"You can literally sell me poison and I will buy that in gallons from you"
"Your acne scars correspond to the craters on the moon. They make you even more beautiful to me"
"You look so f-able in my hoodie"
"You can be my black cat and I can be your golden retriever"
"I will never force my beliefs on you"
"You look magical in that dress"
"I don't want other guys to be close to you, to touch you, I know it's selfish but it's something I can't help but feel. You make you go crazy over you"
"You're like a Siren, alluring me with your voice, enchanting me with your appearance and making me want to do things that are not so pure"
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Pile 3
"You are so pure so innocent. I feel like I will taint you with my darkness"
"Some things are better as secrets"
"Do. Not. Provoke Me. You'll not be able to handle it"
"I am not that type of person who dreams of getting married on the first date. But something about makes me feel I should wife you up, like right now.
"I want to see a mini you or/and mini merunning around in our house"
"Do you mind if I ruin your lipstick right now?"
"can you see hearts floating around above my head? No? *Gets heart shaped balloons from God knows where, puts them above their head* Can you see them now?
"With you, even the simplest moments become cherished memories"
"I crave the taste of your lips and the touch of your skin, you are my sweetest addiction"
"With you, time flies by like a shooting star, leaving behind a trail of cherished memories"
"Don't leave me. I have loved you too much to be separated from you.
"You make flowers bloom in my heart just from the thought of you"
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Pile 4
"I will work hard for you. I will work hard for us"
"To be honest I will let you step on me"
"Our future is so bright together mama"
"In your arms, time loses its meaning, and all that matters is our love."
"How long do you want me to wait for you? 1 month? 6 months? 1 year? 5 years? A decade? I will wait for you if it means that I can be with you even for a minute"
"I will never judge you for your past. We all make mistakes and it's fine. As long as you don't repeat the same mistake"
"You feel like chopping off your hair? Go ahead, do it. I bet on my left nut you will look good in every hairstyle"
"What makes you think that I wouldn't eat your snacks? Am I not human? Or Do I not have taste buds"
"In the heat of our passion, time fades away, leaving only the intoxicating blend of our souls"
"Your touch ignites a fire within me, and I crave the taste of your lips on mine"
"Baby I am preying on you tonight, hunt you down, eat you alive"
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2K notes · View notes
imagine-shenanigans · 3 months
Text
sighs dramatically.
Okay but the ghost distribution system as we call it is hysterical but can we tlak about how None Of The 141 are built to date.
Like, sure, Gaz is great at flirting, and he's charming, but DATES? He's the type who asks you on a date because he thinks youre pretty/handsome/adorable/etc but by the time the two of you actually go on a date he's ready figured out like. the whole rest of your lives together. He's already imagined up 20 different scenarios of different dates, stalked your front-facing social media and found your secret or hidden accounts that theoretically don't link back to you. Sure, he's scrounged through your discord servers and your private messages and texts and a thousand other things while he was bored on leave. He knows enough to know that he's happy with what comes next. All dates are simply... ritual at this point? Something obligational, other than the fact he gets to spend time with you.
You're not going anywhere, he's just the least heavy handed of them, the one who'll let you think its your choice to keep him around until he's got his ring officially on your finger. Life won't go according to plan but he's prepared for that too. In his head, you're already married anyway, he's just working his way up to that part. He'll manufacture any scenario to keep you with him, because he wants you to be. And he'll make sure you want to be too.
Soap on the other hand is WAY less tactful about it. He's charming, and he'll take you on dates, sure, but the moment he spots you it's incredibly easy to get obsessed. He immediately drops an arm around you, purring in your ear and talking to you. Doesn't ask you on a date so much as demands it, puts his number in your phone and presses a kiss to your temple, his fingertips squeezing your chin before you leave. God forbid you let him into your home - he'll never leave if you do. Johnny's SUCH a physical guy that while, yes, personality matters, it seals the deal for him the moment he's got his tongue down your throat and his fingers in your pants. Something about the way you settle in against him makes him feel like he's home, and you will never get rid of him.
He's willing to take you on dates if you need more proof, but he won't even pretend like he doesnt already have a copy of your key. Like he's not telling the guys about the bonnie little thing he's going home to - he slips into your apartment/house/etc and into your bed without changing, barely finding time to slip his boots off. Presses one hand to your mouth and just... holds you. He'll fuck you within an inch of your life later when you're less panicked, sure, but he just wants to press his nose to your neck and breathe you in. If his hips rut against your ass, ignore it for now. (Haha... unless? No? okay in a minute then)
Price is just as manipulative as Gaz can be, just as charming as Soap and Gaz too. But he just... doesn't care, just like Simon. There's a reason so many people have Price with like... mail order bride or a "one day you look up and hes your husband" scenario and thats because he's good at what he does. And by that I mean being a husband and pumping you full of kids whether or not its physically possible. (Btw check out Ceil's mail order bride western au its good shit, or Bo's Kingpin Price drabbles, makes me lose it every time.)
He sees you walking about and the MOMENT you do anything remotely domestic - pick up a neice/nephew/babysitting kid/etc and put em on your hip? Rock hard. play peekaboo with a baby across from you at a cafe? pick up after yourself just to be polite to the waitress? he's already stalking you on multiple platforms theres no goddamn way youre getting away from him. He'll figure out where you go in your free time and insert himself there as naturally as possible. He's not particularly hiding what he's doing either - he likes to test you, to see if you notice things missing or moved. If you do, he'll be a little more cautious, use it as reason to drive you into hsi arms. If you don't he jsut views it as all the more reason to take you away - poor thing, you just can't help yourself can you? You're lucky nobody else has got their claws around you, hm?
563 notes · View notes
drvscarlett · 26 days
Text
Let Him Cook Pt 6
Charles Leclerc x Masterchef! Reader
Let Him Cook Series 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6
A/N: Thank you for that anon who gave me a message for the next part of the series. This one is dedicated for you!
taglist: @bookstore-of-dreams@barcelonaloverf1life@ririyulife@minseok-smaus@mehrmonga@sltwins@charlesgirl16@six-call@spideybv28@casperlikej@weekendlusting@janeholt3 @evie-119@leilanixx @randomgirlnumber-13@itsjustkhaos
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Cookies and Grand Prix
Y/NCooks just posted a photo.
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Y/NCooks Now that my masterchef duties are done. Its my first time going to a grand prix as Charles' girlfriend. I hope you like cookies
User1 OMG IM GOING TOMORROW!!! OMYGODDDDD
Y/NCooks I'll give you a cookie when I see you! User1 Ohmygod, this is the best. You are the best!
User3 I'm envious of everyone going to Monza this year, Y/N is giving out cookies
User4 The details are everything on those cookies
CarlosSainz55 Im technically a former ferrari driver so can I claim a cookie?
LoganSargeant can i have one too? Y/NCooks this is for everyone!! Make sure to drop by Carlos and Logan! Maxverstappen1 Expect me around! User5 Everybody is a ferrari fan!
"Okay mon amour, so there will be a big crowd when we arrive" Charles briefed you as you get closer to the venue "Make sure to stick close to me."
"Yes honey, I know. Hold your hand and don't let go"
Charles has been extremely stressed and he thinks it might not be a good idea to bring you to Monza for your first GP as a couple. However, you couldn't pass up the opportunity. You have seen how the people cheered for Charles when he won in Monza, the crowd was electrifying. You wonder what will happen if it happens again this weekend.
Besides, you have a basket full of cookies that you prepared to give for those fans of Charles that you will meet.
You were immediately greeted by a huge crowd calling out Charles name. It was no wonder that there was several security guards waiting at Charles' designated parking lot.
It was normal for Charles to stop to take photos and to sign some merch. What surprised the duo was that the fans were asking for Y/N and her cookies.
"We really waited for you guys so we can get some cookies" one of the avid Tifosi said
"I really hope the cookies give ferrari luck"you agreed.
There was a buzz in the paddock as you gave away several more cookies to the different fans you encountered. You managed to give Carlos and Logan since they were also waiting at the parking lot. You were so carried away talking to everyone that you didn't realize that you already ran out of cookies.
"Oh no, I didn't save cookies for your other friends" you concluded upon reaching the garage.
"That's okay mon amour, I'm sure they would understand that there is no more cookies" Charles assured.
And like a comical entrance, a man in full Red Bull gear enters the sea of red uniforms.
"What do you mean no more cookies?" Max asked "I did not just go through all the security details to not have cookies"
"Oops."
Grill the grid: eggs
It was a fairly easy challenge, the media team thought. They believe that there will be no harm to let the drivers cook since its just a simple hard-boiled egg.
There was a stove, a pot, 2 bottles of water, eggs, vinegar, salt, and pepper on the table. They also thought that it will be funny to put unnecessary spices and ingredients on the table so there is grated cheese, spring onions, cinnamon, carrots, and etc..
The drivers entered the room looking confused at the different set up of the Grill the Grid.
"We're giving people what they want, today were actually allowing the drivers to show off their cooking skills with this special episodes of grill the grid"
Charles is obviously happy. He was already raving about how there are different versions of eggs that he tried at home because of Y/N.
"I have already tried doing poached egg, soft-boiled eggs, french omelette, american ones" Charles enumerated "I think I'm the best at making scrambled eggs"
"Its just scrambled"
"There is a technique there" and Charles continued to ramble on the different techniques that he has used to achieve the perfect scrambled eggs.
On the other hand, Oscar is attempting to make a hard boiled egg. He admits to the camera that he did not have any experience of it but he definitely knows how it taste (obviously).
"So Oscar what is your game plan here?"
"Well, I'm planning to boil the water and I think I should add some vinegar and then maybe sugar and salt so the egg will be flavored" Oscar stopped as he heard the giggling on set "Wait am I wrong?"
"No, no, just continue"
"Okay so I think I'm gonna let the eggs cook once the water is rolling then I'm gonna wait for 15-18 minutes because I don't wanna serve raw eggs" Oscar continued.
The staffs are a bit shocked by the length of time. It was beyond overcooked but they wouldn't say anything to the Australian driver.
It cuts to Max who seems to be pretty confident with his skill. Its a simple egg, how hard can it be?
"Of course, we have to get the water boiling and then I'm going to put it in for 5 minutes and then get the egg out" Max explained.
If Oscar has a long waiting time, Max was immediately dropping the egg even before the water is boiling because Max believes that the water is hot to the touch.
"What happened, why is the egg still runny?" Max wondered
He cut off the egg and there was still slimy white and the yolks were uncooked. There was a frown on his face as he looked back at his pot, he thinks he is being sabotaged.
"I'm gonna do it again"
Yuki was excited to do the cooking challenge. He insisted that he will not just make a hard boiled egg but he will also showcase a soft-boiled egg. The staffs were ecstatic to see him running around to get iced water for his eggs.
"I make these weekly so I'm really confident that it will turn out well"Yuki has a permanent grin as he fishes out his soft-boiled egg.
"If you want a soft-boiled egg, boiling water with the bubbles and then 8 minutes on the clock. Then you put it in an ice bath and then peel it" Yuki narrates.
He opens his soft boiled egg and it showcases a jammy yolk and soft whites, the perfect kind of soft-boiled eggs. The studio applauds at Yuki's efforts.
Y/NCooks just posted a photo
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Y/NCooks since the episode is out, here is the list of photos sent to me by the crew. Guess which is which.
User2 OHMYGOD, THIS IS SO FUNNY!!!
User3 LOOK AT OSCAR'S REALLY OVERCOOKED EGGS
User6 i was seriously laughing when he said 18 to 20 minutes User7 For real, man thinks he is tenderizing meat
maxverstappen1 i demand a part 2
Charles_Leclerc "its so easy" maxverstappen1 shut up. i have been cooking now kellypiquet p is getting tired of eggs every morning user9 max is really serious to train himself on how to make eggs
User14 I just know that yuki is the one with the best looking egg, so smooth!!!
Y/Ncooks yes!!! User17 charles is the one with the unsmooth peeling Y/NCooks the man can't have it all, i guess
LandoNorris thank God they didn't send you my photo
Y/NCooks lando, i dont think anyone grabbed a photo since the fire department was called CarlosSainz55 you did what???? Charles_Leclerc and they call me as someone who can't cook when we have Lando here being a fire hazard LandoNorris Y/N THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE OUR SECRET User22 atleast team papaya are both needing lessons.
The cookie prank.
Max was still upset that he didn't get to have cookies in Monza. He was really looking forward to it so he wasn't the least suspicious when he allowed Charles inside his home since he brought him cookies.
It was wrong of Max to put down his defenses.
"I'm gonna get some water, you want anything?" Max asked
"No, I'm just gonna get comfortable here with your cats"
Charles stood in front of the cat litter box and he pulled the ziplock bag that he has. Inside the ziplock bag was another set of cookies that looks like cat poops. He laughed quietly as he sets up the scene.
"Max, do you know about that coffee made from poop?" he asked the Dutchman
"Of course, Kopi Luwak" Max replied "Why did you ask?"
Max walked out of the kitchen and he can see clearly how Charles picked up a poop from the litter box. He almost dropped the water that he is holding upon seeing that.
"What if we use cat poop instead" Charles wondered
"CHARLES WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"
The pure mortification in Max's face when Charles started eating the poop. It seems like his friend lost his mind after driving in Ferrari for all these years.
"You should try some"
"Y/N, CHARLES IS GOING CRAZY" Max immediately placed you on a call "I THINK HE NEEDS THERAPY"
"Woah slow down Max" you were out on a grocery run and now Max is screaming at your ear
"Hello mon amour"Charles greeted on the other line.
"HE LOST HIS MIND, HE STARTED EATING MY CAT'S POOPS"
You made a mental face palm as you remembered how Charles insisted that you make very realistic cookies that looks like poop. Charles never opened it to you that he will be using it to prank Max. You started laughing at the shock in Max's face.
"Max, those are cookies" you defended
"THEY ARE CAT POOPS, CHARLES LECLERC IS EATING CAT POOPS"
Oh what would you do with these boys.
348 notes · View notes
thegoldensundreamer · 3 months
Text
Love At Last
Onyankopon x black!reader
Warnings: exes, use of n word, squirting, fingering (f receiving), eating out (f receiving)
Word Count: 6.2k
He was a little older than me. A junior, and I, a sophomore. In college, you only had two focuses: have fun and study, and truthfully it helped me. No matter what anyone told me I had control to do whatever I wanted in life and didn't want anyone's opinions on how I'd be living it.
Honestly, that's what made my other ex's love me and even some, hate me.  But I mean it wasn't like he was always putting his expectations too high for me. Onyankopon just wanted to see me as my best self. When we broke up and I told him the reason as to why I couldn't do it anymore, it all really didn't make sense. I wanted to tell myself that I knew the reason as to why he was just so terrible but subconsciously I knew I didn't. And it was hard for me these past months. Really hard. I been seeing him on campus like a thousand times and he just keeps getting more beautiful and glowin like the sun.
He's the head of his team now and it never helps me that he didn't ever have any girls he just messed around with. Especially bonding and having a real relationship with his exes. Including me. And Its painful seeing him just living his life and me not hating him for any reason because he is really a great guy. So whenever I see him I make sure to shift my eyes to the complete opposite direction of where his head is at. Or even cover my face with a book or a water bottle to not have that awkward walk past. But I kind of wish he chased after me... and although I know its selfish I'm just as confused as when I left that boy. But I guess we all just have to move on.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
"The assignment is still due this Sunday at 11:59 on Blackboard. I don't want any emails, text messages, or conversations next class about an extension. Period."
I honestly think Professor Rodriguez is tweaking now. No excuses? What if someone is sick or something?
The whole class groans as we pack all of our stuff. I mean, it's just a paper so I'm not tripping or anything. I just got to make sure to do it before the Que party this weekend. There's never been a problem before so I don't think I have anything to worry about.
Me and my girls have been planning to go to one of the Que parties we keep infamously hearing about. It's always wild, lit, and memorable till you graduate. All of a sudden when you get that degree they don't exist no more because you don't want no one to know of the hoe tales.
I haven't been to one of their parties yet, but Im excited. I haven't been outside in a while especially since I ended things with Ony. A few kickbacks here and there were going on this past semester for me but that's about it. I like being inside just as much or even more than I like being out.
When I walk down the university building, I put in my headphones ready to blast some Sexyy Red. That woman music got something in it I swear.
"I'm looking for the hoooesssss" I mouth to myself while I nod my head. Shit, I forgot how hard that bass goes. As I bob my head I can't remotely hear the voice behind me trying to catch my attention.
It was Jaden, one of Ony’s teammates, and he's also in Professor Rodriquez class. He gave up calling my name and just let me go.
•••
When I finally left the building and head to my car I instantly switch my music over to the Bluetooth aux and look at my assignment before I pull off. You see... he assigned it to us last Friday and I for real have just been procrastinating till now. I would say my time management is usually really good but its not.
"Ok so I got to just write about 500 words. I could do this tonight no problem."
I put down my phone and start adjusting my rear view mirror only to find light grey clouds of the day turning darker grey. I really hope it don't storm when I'm on the road.
Driving out of the lot and onto the highway, I continue blasting my hoochie playlist. Shrugging at the random pain in my heart I'm feeling, I call one of my girls talking about how much I think this party gon cut all my feelings from Ony and revive the party girl in me.
Im pulling into my apartment complex excited . I haven't been this joyous to go to a party in a while. The mere thought of shaking ass is bringing me serotonin. Just a sweet release of stress. Plus, it's Friday and the party is Saturday night so I'm definitely geeking.
When I stumble up the steps right before the entrance to my residence giddy and jovial, looking for my key, I slightly looked up. The scream in my head is definitely showing me how much I'm not over this feeling in my heart.
I stopped my movement and fought the urge to back step all the way back into my car and hide. I'm not sure why hes here at this time. It's 5:30 which isn't late for real but just a bit confusing enough to make you question why the hell someone is at your door uninvited. Especially since its here. At my apartment. And it's him. With his aura and skin glistening like oil on a hot body.
He was in some black muscle shirt with matching jogger pants. Shyly smiling at me at first but then noticing my expression, he looked down at the state of his body and cringed before looking back in my eyes. Clearly embarrassed. "Sorry you seeing me like this, I just came from practice so I'm still a little sweaty"
I secretly moaned in my head. He looks so good I had to catch my breath and his voice is still captivating up to now. I still can't forget the way he used to t-
I'm getting sidetracked. Let me regain this composure.
"Is there something you need?" I quietly ask. This is no good. The whole point is out of sight out of mind. You know how you want to block somebody on everything and really go out of your way to not see them in person so you won't have to think about them or double back? Well I feel like I'm breaking that right now. It's not my fault sure but the shame still feels the same.
Ony pulls out an object from his pocket. A white, slightly long but thin figure. He looks at it for a moment before looking up at me again and holding it up.
"I came here to give this to you. Im pretty sure it's yours. At least that's what Jaden said."
I squint my eyes in confusion at what he was holding and hurriedly looked through my tote bag to find that I did not have my Apple Pencil for my iPad.
So that's why he's here.
Apple pencils are expensive so I'm not mad. I would've been more upset if I only figured out I dropped it when I got inside and tried to start my paper. But how did he even get it?
He reached his arm out as I began to walk up to him for my pencil. I thanked him for bringing it to me and awkward silence overtook the little rain droplets that noted the thunderstorm about to take place.
Our hands touched ever so slightly as I grabbed my missing pencil. I withdrew immediately and he did the same faintly after. After a few long seconds, he broke the silence.
"Jaden gave it to me at the locker rooms after practice. He said he tried to give it to you after class but couldn't catch up or something so I guess he just wanted me to carry out the deed especially with some paper he mentioned."
I grinned and slightly nodded in understanding, quickly glancing at his eyes before staring at the Apple Pencil. It's strange. He can't really look me in the eye. I mean, I can't either but he's 6'2" so my excuse is good. On top of that, the nonchalance in his tone doesn't sit right with me. It's either he's forcing it or a part of me wants to believe he is just to delude myself that he still cares. It's unfair of me, especially since I probably broke his heart, but it's the real.
"I'll thank Jaden when I see him next class. Thank you for bringing it to me." I quip and walk past him to my door, beginning to find my keys in my bag with the pencil still in hand.
Damn when did I get this shy?
Onys attempt at being nonchalant somewhat was breaking. He stared at the pencil smiling as he spoke and pointed.
"I'm surprised you still have Chowder on there".
I turned my head around, mid-hand in bag. He was referring to the little sticker I had on my ex-missing item. The one that would help me differentiate my pencil from everyone else's so no one would take it. The one he gave me as a funny gift for the love of our mutual favorite childhood show.
I'm surprised he still remembers these little details about me. About us.
"Well it's still my favorite show. I don't think that's ever going to change." I giggle looking back for my keys.
It's hard to do this. To face him. How do people talk to their exes? This isn't even my first but damn. Now my minds all over the place with him and us all over it. All those memories we share. Good and bad.
I stop fiddling in my bag and spoke under my breath with the same thought, caught up in the idea.  "I'm surprised you still remember." I mumbled to myself.
I can feel his presence and his eyes on me, not exactly sure what his actions are. But his voice speaks up with a small sense of fervor in his tone. Something undeniably him. The tone I always craved since it left me.
"Y/n, you can't tell me you don't call to mind how Ive remembered every single thing I've been blessed to learn about you"
I still my hands from roaming once again after I found my keys. At this point, I don't know what's going on. But as I motion my mouth to find what to say a grand lightning bolt flashed down from the sky, hitting somewhere nearby. Thunder that sounded like an earthquake erupted, immediately pouring heavy rain down with it. With that, we instantaneously saw lampposts shut off. All electricity in the area immediately being gone in an instant.
"Ain't no way" I groaned. I can't believe this. I look around at all of the dark areas surrounding the complex except for the emergency lights powered from the generator. Putting my keys in the door, I heavily sigh opening up my residence.
Slowly walking in to the dim natural light from the blinds I turn around to Onyankopon, standing still at the doorstep, and tell him he can come in.
"Are you sure? My car is all good and everything I can still drive."
"In this storm?" I ask raising my eyebrow. I rolled my eyes, "You not gon get nowhere the way this storm going right now. It's fine. Plus, your place is probably out of electricity too."
He nods, "Well thanks, I really appreciate it" He awkwardly steps into the 3 bedroom apartment. My girls usually have class during this time last I checked so we're the only ones here.
I grab some candles to light across my home hoping for some sort of spark to brighten up the place.
Once I withdrew a breath and looked around, the rooms seemed to be lit up enough comfortably outside of the insanely romantic essence it gave off. I stood up from where I was crouched by the living room table where I made eye contact with him sitting up on the couch.
"Soooo could I get you anything?" I awkwardly stand there and he's just sitting... menacingly.
Ugh who am I kidding he looks so geeked out right now.
"It's honestly fine. Once the storm passes I'll be right out forreal you don't have to go through any trouble." He laughs.
With that in mind I obliged and went to my room setting up my laptop and iPad with my now found Apple Pencil. Since the electricity's gone that means I shouldn't have any distractions on focusing on my work.
"Right y/n, focus on the goal. It don't matter that your ex is in the other room. Get on your zoom!" Mumbling to myself  as I type in my username to blackboard to view the rubric.
"What the-"
Shit. Of course blackboard and the wifi is down too if all the electricity is out.
As I groan and leave my room to get a glass of water, I'm getting Ony one too. Seeing him roaming on his phone and placing the glass in front of him on the table I sit on the sofa opposite of him.
He looks up from his phone, "You did not have to do this", he began to grin to himself as he lifted the cup and started to drink.
As I began to speak we both got a notification.
ALL UNIVERSITY STUDENTS: ELECTRICITY IS DOWN ON CAMPUS AND ON AND OFF CAMPUS HOUSING DUE TO A SEVERE WEATHER STORM. MORE UPDATES WILL COME SOON. CURRENTLY, AN ESTIMATION OF 3 HOURS WILL BE NEEDED TO REPAIR DAMAGES TO ELECTRICAL UNITS.
"Fuck" I groaned.
"You're not gonna be able to finish that paper huh?" He questioned.
"No and it's due Sunday. I was hoping to knock it out today before the weekend really starts. I don't need to procrastinate anymore than I already have."
"Oh trust me I remember." He laughed. "I can help yknow. There's nothing else we can do here."
"On what though? Blackboard is down."
"Not google docs or notes app though." He smiled, "As long as you know what you're supposed to write about you're set."
"But I like looking at the rubric when I write to make sure my grades solidified"
"I'm hearing a lot of excuses misses honors student. If you wanted to do it you would at this point. Plus, my specialty is writing papers so I can definitely help"
I remember oh so well. This reminds me of when I procrastinated on a paper last semester the weekend before it was due just like this one and we stayed up till 3 AM writing it. So many laughs and double shot espressos from that time. His specialty really is writing essays and all sorts of papers. That assignment was 5000 words and we started the Saturday and still got an A.
"Shit, why not. It's only 500 words anyway" I joke.
He smiled and we got to work. The first hour went by like nothing. It felt like old times. 200 words were typed but the only thing holding us back was that I actually need to have proper cited sources. Professor Rodriguez do not play around either so it's been a painstaking amount of time trying to find anything with no internet and a on and off personal hotspot.
As Ony and I sit next to each other working on the paper, he lifts up his glass and it accidentally slipped out of his hands onto the table.
"Ah damn I'm so sorry. Let me-"
"No it's cool." I put down my laptop and got up to get a paper towel. When I sat back down and handed the paper towel to him our hands touched again. That once jovial, funny and somewhat relaxed mood we had was now gone. We're exes. This isn't what exes do. We're not friends.
But shit we were . That was exactly what we were like before we started anything or knew there was something there. Even during our relationship we felt just like this at times too. Where the hell did we go? Why did I let us go?
The awkward touch we had became more intimate as I decided to gently grab his hand. The eye contact he made was confused but willing. It spoke "why haven't you done this all this time while I'm right here?" Or at least that's what I think.
Our hands interlocked letting go of the paper towel at this point. Eye contact on something serious as we ask questions to each other with them. As I began to lean down on the couch, Ony couldn't stop staring between my eyes and my lips. He eventually and quickly took the dive, trying not to lose the moment. Embers burned and flowed through the air as he began to shift from my power to his. He embarked on leaning my back onto the couch rather than his. Hands splayed in my locs and taking small breaks to breathe before going back in.
Small moans escape my mouth as he's working me. Kisses pressed on my lips were coming down my chin... then my neck as he suckled on my skin. His hands roamed my body slowly. One on the side of my stomach nearing my ass and the other beginning to feel my breast under my shirt. At this point, he's starting to get more vocal, groaning and whispering sweet nothings along my body.
"You know how much I've missed you y/n. How much I've missed this pretty face... this pretty body... and this pretty pussy" he hissed one kiss after another. "Is this all ok? If you're not fine with this of course I'll stop. Tell me what you want."
His asking for consent was always so sexy and those words... damn I missed him and this.
I looked at his lust blown eyes as he looked up to mine from my stomach as he briefly stopped from going lower and lower.
"I want you Q. I'm all yours." My composure is definitely done at this point. He's got me right now.
"Don't worry. You know I will always take care of you." He slurred, slowly sliding my bottoms and panties down and kissing my inner thighs before locking them in his arms. It's been a while since I've been in this position and I've missed it since forever ago.
Slow pecks from my thighs came closer and closer to the apex of them. He must could tell how nervous I was since his thumbs gently rubbed where they laid at to comfort me. Im in love with the way they feel on me.
"So as you can see I do have some hair ri-"
He side eyed me. "Y/n I'm a grown ass man. You know I like my peaches with some fuzz on it. Now can I have my dinner please?"
He can get so forward like this it's making me shy. I rolled my eyes and laid my head back. I never thought I'd be in this predicament.
"Good girl. Just stay just like that baby."
He nestled his lips on my bundle, wrapping them on to gently suck at a slow and smooth pace. His rhythm was gradually fastening and shortly, his lips unattached from my clit to lap at the bundle once more flicking his tongue. He remembers. He always remembers what I like.
Beginning to close my legs from the sensation, he parts me once again lapping at my cunny fervently. Like some undying need that he can't let go. As a "punishment" for me not taking it, he inserts a finger and then a second to make me break even more than I already am.
I plead and moan, "Ony, baby, I'm leaking"
I can barely control my body now. My breath getting fainter as I breathe heavy.
"Good. You know that's what I want." He keeps pumping. Squelching ensues as he becomes infatuated with his doing. "Look at that shit. All for me huh" He asks looking at my fucked out face.
I disappointedly moan when his fingers leave me but he swipes my essence from its trail and sucks his fingers while maintaining eye contact with me. I whimper and squeeze at the sight.
I guess he wanted to finish the job though. I tried to reach over to slip my hand in his boxers just for him to grab my wrist and pin both of my hands down to finish what he started.
It's always like a switch in him when he's like this. So different from the sweet Onyankopon from everyday that everyone knows. So nasty. I love it. I miss it.
He mischievously watches me. "You feel this?" I moan as he pumps his fingers back in me. I roll my eyes to the back of my head and he chuckles. "I'm gonna take that as a yes. Let me make you cum, princess."
He lowered his head down again as he continued pumping into me. Licking a stripe up my honey and continuing the mess he was creating previously. Languid strokes of his tongue were hitting me just right and my moans started turning to desperate whimpers.
Building me up for a while, he then dipped his muscle into my pussy and interchanging with his fingers, curling them with each stroke. His other hand left my thigh and his thumb began rubbing my clit. Faster and faster he went I started to find my stomach tensing and the air becoming hard to breathe.
In between heavy pants I slip out "O, stop, I'm gonna make a mess!" my eyes rolling to the back of my head and legs lifting and coming together.
He didnt stop and pinned me down pressing on my lower stomach. My moans became octaves higher and higher. He lifted his head from my cunny, "you gon take it and make a mess all over my face. Don't hold back nothing."
With that, he continued his ministrations. My grip on his hair became as tight as it could as I could feel my voice go weak. My legs began to shake as clear liquid lightly sprayed out onto his face and a white ring began to form on his fingers. My pants were beginning to rapidly slow down as I came down from my high, un loosening the death grip I had on his head.
He came back up kissing my cheek then licking my essence off his face and fingers, "Always taste so good." Proceeding to take a rag from my bedroom to clean me up and carrying me to my bed.
Before we even got the chance to speak about what happened, my eyes fell. A nap took over both of us and hours that felt like minutes rolled by.
His arm around me as we slept on our sides felt  like old times. Like something right that I just ripped away from my body. It's so comfortable.
After a dream I couldn't remember, I wake up in a daze, looking behind me to see him knocked out and his arm still around my waist.
Gently moving it off of me, I slowly get up and walk to the bathroom.
"Shit I might as well take a shower"
To be honest, none of this has settled in my head yet. My ex boyfriend who I'm clearly not over in my bedroom after being nasty on the couch is sleeping on my bed... crazy. Real fanfiction kind of shit.
Pushing the light switch up, I notice the bulb illuminate the room. Thank the Lord almighty. I put on my shower cap and get in. I feel myself let go of a breath I didn't know I had when the hot water hits my skin.
This is insane. I shouldn't be hooking up with my ex. I cut it off for a reason... I think. It's gotta be this way for the both of us so nobody gets hurt.
"Bitchhhh" I think to myself in the shower holding my head.
Leaving the bathroom with my towel on, I see my ex looking over at me from his phone, arm now holding his head up to stare me up  and down in awe.
"It's been a while since I seen this view"
I cut my eyes and stand in front of him on my bed. "Look we need to talk- " and my head turned immediately when I heard the front door of the apartment open. Thankfully, my room doors closed, but my girls walked in the apartment gossiping when they called out my name to have our daily debrief of the day.
I cuss at myself and know they probably see the cups of water, candles, and his shoes at the door as they fell silent. Whispering to themselves with words I couldn't make out,  I eventually hear a knock at my door.
I looked at Ony, mortified with a finger to my lips, then took a deep breath, opening the door so they can only see me still in my bath robe.
"Heyyy" I greeted with the awkwardest get out and don't make this weird smile I know.
"Hey mookie, we just wanted to check on you and see if you're good with the electricity going off and everything earlier." One of them said, clearly peeking inside my bedroom to see who's here, eyes widening that it was him before he could move himself. She gave me a look and I gave her one back like we telepathic or something.
"Girl yknow I'm good, just trying to finish this paper" I say hoping she takes the message that I know she's getting from me right now.
"Yeah I'm sure it's realll hard" She said acting like a real smart ass.
With a few more exchanges they go to their rooms to settle down for the night. After hearing both of their doors close I rush back to my room.
"Yeah, you gotta go" picking up his clothes and pushing them to his chest.
"But-"
"Look, I wish there was a better time to talk, but you have to go. This... is strange. We broke up. There's a reason why this ended. I know it was probably stupid of me to let you stay here during the storm, but this wasnt my intention." Pointing at the both of us.
I picked his arm up before he could get a word out to reason with me, clothes just tussled onto his body. If he sweet talks me again I really might not double back this time.
We get to the door and with the least amount of strength he has, he turns his body towards me and gently grabs my hand before I could open the door placing it back by my side.
"Y/n...why are you letting go of us... again? This still doesn't make sense and you know that."
I still. I remember this feeling... this sense of regret. But just like last time, I can't tell if it's the wrong choice or because I don't want to let go.
In truth, Ony feels... familiar. He'll always feel like a memory and I don't want to get too comfortable in his light of nostalgia. He brought such a level of solace in my life that I never wanted to replace. It was even more so after we became official....I don't want to become stagnant because of it. I have my own dreams, my own endeavors, and my own goals that I want to reach. It would be so easy to be a trophy wife to him... and he'd gladly let me. As a woman, I don't want that to be the tell all be all of my life when I know that I had a life before him. I didn't know if I could escape from it then and I definitely don't know now. That's the real reason why I keep shutting him out and probably why we broke up... but he can't know that.
"Because I know we won't end well. We're two different people Ony and this idea that you can just up and think everything is picture perfect for us has to stop now"
He looks in my eyes with such disappointment, then slight anger as his eyebrows pushed together. He opened his mouth to speak again but thought about it and decided not to, closing his eyes in the process. With a heavy huff from his chest, he looked at my eyes one last time for the night before turning away and leaving the complex.
When I shut the door, My girls came out immediately like paparazzi.
"You were over him huh?" One of them snarled at me. "It don't seem that way to me love. Maybe you shouldn't even go to the party tomorrow."
I looked down at the ground and they both took notice of my state. We all went to my bedroom and I explained everything that happened tonight. Their eyes looked at mine with frustration and awe. I held my head knowing their reaction just like they've been telling me for the past 3 months.
"You are not over that boy y/n"
"I think you're confused"
And they're right. I am. But I tell them the same thing I told them every time.
"But when he makes it to the league, what am I going to do? Wag my tail like a dog after him and have niggas tell me that I want his money or that I don't have half his talent for anything like them bitches was saying when we were together? And what if he cheats? He gon have hella girls at his disposable and I'll be feeling stupid like  "I really wasted my time on this nigga". Y'all know how much I love Ony and I was just getting over him too. This is for the best for me right now y'all know that"
They gave each other a look and got up to hug me.
"Whatever decision you choose to make girl you know we got you. Just remember to listen to your heart sometimes"
With that, we said our little goodbyes and retired for the night. Ony on my mind, I went to bed.
Waking up, he is still on my mind. Getting my laptop, I tried to continue the paper but had no will power to do so. The whole morning and afternoon felt like that... no volition and all a blur. Wasting away in my bed after the three different times my girls checked up on me throughout the day I just can't escape him. It doesn't help having the daydream engrained of what could've been present with our past. In that same thought, I hear a buzz on my phone, too in tune with the delusional reaction thinking it could be him.
I look at it to see the ticket for the party tonight that one of my girls sent. I groan and get up, finally deciding to start my day and also prepare myself for tonight.
Hype hoochie music is playing on my speaker and I hear Looking For the Hoes again. I'm thinking of how good everything was before all that happened yesterday. Do I even regret it? Am I blocking my blessings?
I can't let a man distract me from my life though. There's a life before and after him and I have to remind myself of that.
Finally finished with my look and it finally being an hour after the party started, me and my girls head out for the wild night we been planning for months.
What I didn't know was that the line would feel like 3 miles long and realizing we need our ID when we're finally 5 feet before the security. Why are parties this complicated? I don't know. But luckily we all at least have pictures of our ID and got in.
When we step foot into the party, the first thing we see is purple lights illuminating the entire venue. People are scattered everywhere and in every other corner we see the Ques barking and hopping to their stroll.
"Lawd have mercy" one of my homegirls say in love with the ques. Me and the other laugh and roll our eyes.
After some time just standing, we decided to find a small table and sit down with our small get ups. Our drinks from the pregame were starting to kick in after 10 minutes and we were laughing our ass off drunk when we hear "Girl the way you move it got me in a trance-", and that was it. All of us pulled each other to the dance floor and start to turn up. I'm throwing ass on my home girl and catching from the other.
I needed this. Seriously. I forgot how fun it is to be outside in the streets. Seconds later, we hear a scream and laugh from a girl and gasp from the crowd. One of the Ques picked up a girl and started acting like he was eating her out.
We all looked at each other with our jaws dropped. Ain't no wayyyyy. They were not lying bout it getting wild.
Right behind where I see the spotlight shining, about 30 feet away, I saw a face I didn't think I'd see at all. Just as his eyes set in on the scene before him he also saw my eyes and we made eye contact for a brief second.
I turned my body so fast that I almost knocked my home girl over. In the middle of her fussing me out she asked what happened. Naturally, I told her that Ony is at the party.
"Why is a nigga at a Que party is the real question though?"
"Girl unimportant can we please move somewhere else"
We all move to a separate section of the party venue. This can not happen. I'm drunk and I been dancing? I can not see or be around that man right now.
Before I could even get the nightmare out my head, I hear a "Y/n" near my head. I turn around mouth slightly agape to see him once again. Even finer in his put together party get up than his athlete clothes from yesterday. My mind all caught up in him just like last time I'm in a blur of what he's actually saying to me.
"Y/n, why are you here right now?" He whispers yells in my ear from the loud music blasting from the speakers.
I look to my left and right and my homegirls dashed off like the road runner... traitors.
Looking at him once again, eyes low from the drink in my system I ask, "Ony, why would it matter to you? I'm not your girl and you not my man. We single. The real question is why you're at a Que party." Remembering what my homegirl had said to bite back at him.
He fixes his face, his tongue poking at the inside of his cheek looking at me clearly frustrated. Just looking at his face he can't leave me alone. Sorry that's just drunk me talking I don't know whats on his mind.
"Y/n, why the hell you been drinking so much? Don't you got a paper to finish?"
"Ony you are not my daddy get up out my face!" I yell at him. "I'm out here having fun with my girls trying to get over YOUR ASS so why can't you just mind yo business!" Oops. My eyes widened, that last part wasn't supposed to come out. Fuck.
Shit, how did he react to that?
Without time for me to look up and see his face or even hear him utter a word, he has my hand in his and leading me somewhere and fast. I'm trying to keep up but it's kind of hard to have good foot and direction coordination in a party like this and off my ass.
With all of the movement feeling like a blur, I found both of us outside of the party venue from some back door. It's slightly raining by the building and the night sky showed a bright orange street light that was our only light source.
He takes off his jacket and puts it over my shoulders to warm me. It's a bit cold. What a gentleman.
"Y/n ... what did you say?"
He stares directly in my eyes with a sense of fervency and hope. One that I can't deny now.
Part 2?
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Authors Note: Hi y'all! I haven’t written fanfic in soooo long but never stopped reading lmao. I loveeee this one so much. It’s Literally the best fic ive done period thus far. I’m trying to think if I should start writing again fr esp for my fictional anime men.
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manicpixiefelix · 4 months
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head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}
Part 5.
Summary: Reader, Oliver, and the mortifying ordeal of being known. Plus clubbing, costume parties, and Oliver being a fucking tease.
{ masterpost }
Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.
Warnings: drinking/intoxication/drug use
A/N: 3148 words. now we're cooking with gas, folks! i might be too sleepy for a real author's note, but just know, as always, its unedited and i love you. have fun, please let me know what you think!
TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)
----
"Can I be bold for a minute?" On the roof of one of the dorm buildings, you and Oliver are waiting for Felix. It's twilight, the sky painted lavender by the setting sun and encroaching night, and everything feels a little dreamy.
"If anyone would appreciate boldness, Ollie, it's me," you tell him blithely around the cigarette you're trying to light. Still, he's quiet for this one moment, watching the way you cup your hand around the little flame to shield it from the wind.
"How did you and Farleigh ever get so close, considering how he treats you?"
You're pretty sure you know why he's asking you, considering what few interactions he'd witnessed between yourself and Farleigh, but it's still unexpected coming from him. For a moment, your gaze flicks to him, eyes narrowed, not quite sure what to make of the interaction. When your gaze meets his, he's looking at you with that intent, inquisitive look he got in moments like these, moments he seemed to fish for information without seeming like that was what he was doing. The silence and look that you level at him seem to throw him off guard, and immediately he drops his gaze to his feet, swinging off the edge of the building.
"That is bold," you finally settle on, watching Oliver fidget. His ankles cross, his shoulders slump; again he makes himself as small as possible. You deliberately make your tone lighter when you continue, "what's got you worried 'bout me an Farleigh?"
"I mean, all I'm saying is that he was being nasty to you, but now you're both kind of acting like he wasn't."
It's true; since his apology that Sunday morning Farleigh had been keeping his word about not being too bitter about Oliver to or even around you and Felix. You, in turn, made a special effort to spend time with him, pay him attention, made him feel like your priority on occasion. Both you and Farleigh were well aware of what you were doing, but he always enjoyed your company and attention, so it wasn't like he was going to complain.
"Farleigh and I understand each other."
"He slept with your girlfriend."
"India's not my girlfriend."
"He- he keeps calling you a dog."
That hit a nerve. You hadn't realised he was paying attention to that back at the pub. You swallow hard and look out at the horizon.
"And?" Raising the cigarette to your lips again, you don't look at him as you take a very long drag on it, "there are more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy," you breathe out with the smoke.
"Doesn't seem like the way friends should talk about each other is all," Oliver says quietly, notes of apology in his voice; you can see him looking at you again out of the corner of your eye.
"Best friend, actually," you finally sigh, letting the tension drop from your shoulders and the moment. As you look at him over your shoulder, you give a faint smile in the face of his confusion, "we've known each other long enough that we can say pretty much anything we want to each other. Only problem is that Farleigh knows that pushing my buttons also pushes Fi's buttons, which is why he does it so often. He's a shit-stirrer, but you haven't known us long enough to know he doesn't really mean it," you tell him with surprising fondness in your voice.
"I'm sorry for prying," Oliver says earnestly, and you smile wider.
"I'm sorry for being so defensive; I realise how it must look from the outside."
Before anything else can be said, the door to the roof bursts open, and Felix greets you both with a hundred-watt smile and a packet of fish and chips in his hands. You descend on him like a seagull, swapping your cigarette for the hot food, tearing into the paper wrapping and settling by the wall at the edge of the roof near Oliver once more.
There's a beat where Felix is watching you and Oliver, his smile soft and fond and endeared, but there's something in his eyes that's been there since that lunched they'd shared at the pub -
"I shouldn't say -" there's a lot of things Felix shouldn't do that he does anyways. Considering his wealth, he could get away with a lack of self control, "I just genuinely didn't know, I mean I might have guessed- did you know?"
"Know what, Fi?" You're still in his bed, bleary-eyed and desperately wanting to go back to sleep when he'd come back from the pub buzzing instead of tired, as he'd predicted.
He'd spent the better part of the afternoon with his head on your chest, explaining the almost Dickensian tragedy that was Oliver's life. Sure you were listening, but you didn't have much to contribute other than faint noises of interest while your fingers carded through his hair.
There's something about the way Felix recounts all this information to you, the way he finds it salacious and heart-breaking all in one. You can hear in his voice that he'd captivated, that he's endeared by the struggle that has followed Oliver throughout his life. As much as you loved him, you'd watched time and again the way he'd fall for tragic tales and the people who'd recount them; Felix had a saviour complex, and it was the only thing the two of you had ever fought about.
Last year it had been Eddie, the worst of the bunch so far. Like Oliver but in the opposite direction; too much, too loud, too confident to hide his ugly secrets and desperation to be wanted. Eddie had been Icarus, taking for granted the wax wings Felix had given him, the good life, attention, a comrade who almost understood him. But he'd played with fire, played with Venetia too many times, and the wax wings melted. Not that you'd cared; you were the one who spotted them, you were the one that told Farleigh, you were the one who listened to Felix's furious rants every few days for the rest of that Summer. You'd never liked Eddie like Felix liked Eddie.
Oliver was different. You wondered if he was different enough.
Still, as much as you liked Oliver you could see it in Felix's eyes, hear it in his voice; he was already getting himself addicted to the idea of how much better he could make Oliver's life. But Felix had hated it the last time you'd pointed something like that out.
("Then why the fuck would I keep you around? Maybe it's because I don't pick my friends based on whether they're charity cases!")
So you keep your mouth shut. Maybe it's worth it for the way Felix smiles -
"I don't -" Oliver's fidgeting when Felix asks him to tag along to a costume party, "have anything to wear, really," he admits. Immediately Felix is offering to let him borrow something. There's a flicker that looks almost hungry in Oliver's eyes amid the gratefulness, and you wonder if he knows how many people would kill to get into Felix's pants. Still, he's humble, "you don't have to do that."
"I don't have to do anything," Felix shrugs with the easiest smile in the world. Then, in the next sentence, completely glossing over the act of kindness he looks at you, "tell me you aren't still expecting Farleigh to commit to that devil costume with you."
"He told me he'd put effort in this year -"
"He tells you that every year," Felix laughs, and you lean into Oliver's shoulder to explain.
"Me and Farleigh always organise to go to one costume party per year as an angel and a devil -"
"And every year," Felix rolls his eyes with a good-natured exasperation, "Farleigh wears some vulgar t-shirt and two party hats for horns, while Y/N puts weeks of effort in and wins best dressed every time-"
"Not every time," you protested, while Oliver looked faintly impressed, leaning back against you too.
"The only times you haven't won best dressed was if there was no competition to win," Felix points out, before looking past you to Oliver with an amused smile, "so I can't promise you a Y/N-level of costume, but it'll be more than two party hats."
"If you wanna give me two party hats, I'll wear 'em," Oliver says, hands coming up as if to placate the both of you. Instead, you grin wider, throwing an arm around his shoulders.
"We'll make you all pretty, Ollie, don't worry."
Unsurprisingly, on the night of the party, Farleigh showed up to 'get ready' at your dorm, which meant him lazing on your bed, drinking and sharing his coke with you while you put arguably too much effort into your makeup. He, of course, is wearing two party hats, and t-shirt that simply says 'EASY', and though you pretend to be annoyed for all of five minutes, he gives a shit eating grin as you chew him out.
"Fool you once, shame on me, sure; fool you six times, that's on you, Y/N."
You flipped him off with a grin.
"There they are!" India cheers from the sofas where your other friends are gathered when you arrive to the party. Farleigh, on your arm, makes a show of his entrance, "not you, Farleigh, obviously." India rolls her eyes, but thankfully Farleigh wasn't too put out. Instead, he swans towards the group to claim a seat.
"Give us a spin, angel," Annabel insists with a coy smile, and you oblige her to the whistles and cheers of the rest of your friends.
"You outdo yourself," Felix told you fondly as you dropped into a beanbag by the sofa he and Oliver had been occupying.
Felix is looking at you, that kind of dangerous look when he thinks you're especially hot and there's only a thirty percent chance that the two of you will even make it to a dark corner. For just a moment, however, your gaze flicks to Oliver, by his side, and he's watching Felix too, absolutely rapt by the way your best friend looks at you.
"Only in comparison to Farleigh," you shake your head, forcing yourself to be Felix's self restraint, especially so early in the night, "besides, look at you; you've certainly grown into this since I last saw you try it on," and you leaned forward as best you could, looking across the circle of friends to the pretty, redhead in the slinky nurse outfit, "how fucking good does Felix look, Annabel?" You ask pointedly, and you can see Felix give a restrained chuckle before turning his attention to his own not-girlfriend, who seemed glad for the chance to gush about him.
Sitting back, you chance a glance once more at Oliver, and somehow aren't surprised to see him looking back at you. All you do is smirk, well aware of what you were doing.
Felix's clothes are too big on Oliver. The costume, though you're not exactly sure what he's meant to be, kind of wears him instead of the other way around. Felix, of course, looks all kinds of gorgeous as a police officer, while Oliver looked rather like he's wearing his big brother's hand-me-downs. But he's rolls up the sleeves and always looks up at Felix with these blue, doe eyes shining with gratefulness, and no-one else cares enough to comment either way.
You wonder if anyone else has noticed, the way Oliver's personality changes with his focus. It's not in large ways, perhaps others think its like a trick of the light, but the way he looks at others, the way he behaves, it seems to vary from person to person. Tactile, distant, closed off, hesitant, open, honest, warm, skittish, never truly the same with each individual. It's like he watches, figures out what people want to hear, what they want from him, and does his best to give it to them. It's almost painfully familiar.
Oliver gives Felix what he wants in a way you know you never can; Oliver gives him someone to help, someone to feel like he's saving. As long as Felix is happy, you tell yourself, that is enough, and it's easy to like Oliver in your own way. The only problem you've found is that as much as you like Oliver, as intrigued as you are by him, you can't quite get a read on him, what he wants, what your place may be in his life. He's always watching, always searching for something, but you're never sure of what.
So you decide to show him love, show him appreciation the way you know best.
More and more you choose to stay by his side when you're all out, at the pub, at clubs, either of you are not with Felix, or if you're not otherwise occupied by someone requesting your attention, you'll be with Oliver.
Tonight, at the club, a girl from town had been occupying Felix's personal space for the better part of an hour, and by the time he has her against a wall down a dark corridor, Oliver's absconded from the dance floor to get another drink, but hasn't returned. You find him skulking against a wall, half drunk pint in his hand, gazing out through the crowd. When you join him, when you follow his gaze, you can see the silhouette of Felix and the girl, his hand up her shirt through the haze.
"It doesn't bother you?" Oliver asks, loud enough to be heard over the music, but not by anyone else.
"The girls don't bother me," an easy, languid smile spreads across your face, "the girls love me," you amend, smile turning a little smug as you watch Felix and the girl whose name you can't even been be bothered to recall.
"Felix's girls?* Ever-hesitant Oliver, even here and now, sounds carefully demure amongst his curiosity, "do you -?" He makes an awkward gesture, but you read his intentions and laugh dismissively.
"No, no... well," you pause for a moment, "occasionally I have my fun, I suppose, but not like that; girls who are into Felix aren't traditionally into me like that, no," you shake your head with an an missed smile, "but that's why they like me, I'm not a threat, see?"
Even through the haze and flashing lights, you can see Felix's hands on the girl; he's warm and rough and the way he holds always feels so fucking secure -
Looking away sharply, you're surprised by how intently Oliver's watching you. Its genuinely startling, and though he seems to understand this but doesn't look away. For just a moment your breathless, caught up in the night and the jealousy and want for your best friend that you usually have much more control over - your own words echo in your head; I'm not a threat, see? A smug lie, a joke at all those poor girl's expenses since you knew they were never going to last.
Oliver's gaze burns when you finally look him squarely in the eyes; he knows.
"I get the impression people assume a great many things about our Felix," he wets his lips, casting his gaze to darkened hallway, to where you had seen Felix with his mouth on the neck of his girl of the night, but you can't look away from him. Our Felix. "And about you."
"And you?" Your tongue darts out, wetting you lips as you draw Oliver's attention back to you, tone flirty. There's something exhilarating about this man that you can't help but want to tease out.
"Not much to assume," he gives a faint smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes, "I'm more the observant type than one whose observed."
"You make the assumptions."
"I make the assumptions," he actually smirks, a bit of that usual gentle hesitation that he approached the world with slipping for just a moment.
"And?"
"And what?"
"Do you have a lot of assumptions about Our Felix?" You tease his earlier wording, but once again his gaze drifts to your best friend, if he still is in the crowd. Them, quieter, almost as if you don't mean to you murmur, "or me?"
"Had."
"Had?"
"Had a lot of assumptions," there's a kind of mischief in his eyes as his tone takes on an air of nonchalance, "'bout him, 'bout you too." As he speaks, you step towards him, hand on his arm, moving steadily higher. He can feel it, you know he can, but all he does is smile wider, refusing to break your gaze.
"Like what, Oliver Quick?"
Leaning in, Oliver takes your face in his hands, bringing you close, sharing breath, lips inches from his.
"Like how they write Odysseys about your kind of loyalty," he mumbled, and you feel like his gaze alone could swallow you whole. There's a aching, yearning that you feel in this moment, when you crush your lips to his. It's quick and desperate, and he pulls back, "like how you show love with every fuckin' bit of that body of yours," this time he pulls you in and it's rougher, it's needy, he bites at your lip and you whimper against his mouth, press yourself against him, "like-" he kisses you quickly, "like- like-" but as you find yourself trailing rough kisses down his jaw, he seems to lose his train of thought.
"Yes?" You prompt with a laugh.
"Like how you're desperate to feel needed."
"Observant," you tell him softly, raising your head, arms still around him. In this moment, his expression is open, watching you, waiting for you to react, "more observant than anyone else."
"You wear it on your sleeve, sweetheart," he says bluntly, but something about being seen, about his unwavering honesty, that sets your heart beating, burning in your chest. Or perhaps it's that he called you sweetheart; it's rare that someone is so sweet to you.
"Then need me, want me."
"I do," this time when he kisses you, it's gentle, full of warmth and unexpected love, and the way he holds you close makes you feel so precious and desired at once, "but not like this, not now." And he's letting you go, despite the way your lips tingle and the damn butterflies in your stomach. You desperately want to cling to him, to ask him what the fuck he means, but he kisses you on the forehead and tells you to get back safe, wearing an almost smug, knowing smile, disappearing into the crowd. You can't even go after him, he's made you damn weak in the knees and all you can do is lean against the wall for support.
Felix and his girl have disappeared.
Your friends are still living it up on the dance floor, you're sure, but you have only one thought on your mind.
Oliver Quick is a fucking tease.
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professionalfattener · 5 months
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Hello? Oh its you... yes he does live here now. Umm. Well He's okay I promise. No, uh he can't come to the door to talk at the moment. Alright. If you insist. Come with Me and you can see him for yourself if you really need closure this badly. I'm sorry he stopped replying to your messages. I understand you two had a difficult breakup and not seeing someone you loved for so many years must be hard on you. Well this is his room. We moved him to the ground floor a few years ago. Hmm? Why? Oh well you'll see. Here. Sorry for the smell by the way.
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What? Oh Please. Don't look so horrified! Haha. You know how much he loves his meals and this was the natural result. Do you have any idea how distraught he was from your breakup!? He was burying his feelings in food so much already when I met him I just... helped him feel better. Of course he's okay! Trying to get him up? Haha! Good luck with that. Sure you go right ahead and get him out of here. He can't get far on his own these days. What do mean I'm a Monster? I'm his Caregiver. I decide whats best for him now. Come closer and look. No, Don't run away I'm sure he's happy to see you look how hard he's breathing.
#feeder #ssbhm #extremeweightgain #slob #deathfeedist #deathfeeder #blob #toofat #extremeobesity #morbidobesity #fatallyfat
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neptuneiris · 4 months
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could you pretend to be in love? (02/10)
The Contract
pairing: modern!aemond × fem!reader (fake dating)
summary: there is no turning back now and now you and Aemond set the rules and conditions to start the whole farce.
word count: 4.6k
previous part • next part • series masterlist
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HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!🥳
I thought this would be a very nice way to wish happy new year to all of you beautiful people who support me and like what I write, you don't know how much that means to me🥺
thank you for so much support and for so much love, I have loved being here and I definitely plan to stay for longer, seeing how that love evolves and my place here as a writer🥰 so enjoy a lot this new chapter that I really hope you like it a lot❤
many blessings to all of you, my best wishes for your lives in this 2024, I love you all so much!😊❤
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enjoy!
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It's the first thing you see after turning off the alarm and you curiously enter to read the recent messages from an unknown number, not having the slightest idea of who it might be.
But you let out a long sigh of frustration when you read them and see that it's Aemond, who you don't understand how the fuck he got your number. Of course, it shouldn't have been hard for him, just a few questions and anyone can tell him what he wants to know.
And knowing that you have a long day ahead of you today, you already feel the pressure all over your body when you haven't even left your bed, where you also feel the frustration and all this uncertainty that you thought you had already overcome, but no.
You barely accepted yesterday and suddenly putting the plan into action from one day to the next, it's too much. But without really having a choice, you reluctantly force yourself to get up and start getting ready.
After an hour, you leave your house with the nagging feeling of carrying a weight on your shoulders to school. And all the way there, not even the music in your ears can make your mind calm down for a moment.
Knowing very soon that your whole social life will be a mess and you will no longer be invisible, since after all Aemond was right in that respect, causes you even more uneasiness and also nervousness because you are going to pretend to be the girlfriend of the most popular guy in school.
And once the bus makes its stop, you soon enter the halls of the bustling school. And knowing that a certain silver-haired guy is waiting for you right now, every heavy step you take towards the schoolyard echoes loudly in your ears, increasing your nervousness and anxiety.
You're even tempted to back up and tell him to forget it, but you resist and keep moving forward.
As you walk through the huge doors of the backyard, it's only a matter of time before you make out the figure of Aemond sitting at the same table as yesterday in the distance. Your heart skips a beat and you feel more nervous, but gathering your courage and taking a long breath, you advance towards him, ready but with uncertain steps.
Every step seems heavy, as if you are walking into the unknown and you try to hide the nerves in your gaze, especially when Aemond notices your presence. He watches you and slowly turns to you, a subtle smile on his lips.
Again there is that feeling of telling him to forget it, to find someone else, that you can't do this. But... your mind stops you and screams at you not to be silly, that at the end of it all there will be a reward, a very good reward that getting it by faking a relationship with him, is nothing.
And it's definitely worth it.
So resigned, you reach out to him.
"Hey," he says to you without wiping off his little smile, as you take a seat in front of him and he waits for you to finish settling in, "So you've come."
"Don't bother me," you tell him without humor, definitely contrasting his mood to yours.
"Now what did I do?"
"That," you point to his face, "You're enjoying this, seeing that I haven't backed out."
"Oh, please, I actually thought you wouldn't come and tell me to fuck off after you thought better of it," he justifies himself.
"Yeah? Well, nothing a free admission to your dream college won't do," you say with a slightly sarcastic tone, though implicitly admitting your reasons, "And it's actually not like I like skipping classes, so could we get this started?"
Aemond exhales long, averting his gaze from yours for a moment before returning to watching you.
"You know you'll have to be charming and act like you're completely in love with me in public, right?" he poses, expectantly.
"Yes, I know... in public," you point out to him, "Just now no one knows we're 'dating' genius," you add, underlining the falsity of the situation.
He places a small, amused, smirk on his lips.
"Yet."
He adds with a slightly defiant tone and you roll your eyes.
"Don't get too excited either."
"Are you not?"
"Oh yeah, I can't handle the excitement," you feign in a high-pitched, ironic voice, making exaggerated hand gestures.
Aemond lets out a short but genuine laugh at your gesture. He leans back slightly, his eye revealing a mischievous glint as he watches you.
"Glad to see you're keeping your sense of humor in this," he says with his tone changing slightly to a more relaxed one.
"I don't have much choice, do I?" you reply, accepting his change of mood, but still maintaining a certain emotional distance.
You figure it's just a matter of the two of you getting more into trust, and if you're going to do this with him, you're definitely going to do your part. But for now, this is still a little awkward and unexpected. And the sooner you do this, the better it will be for you.
So you shift your focus and lean forward slightly with a more serious expression on your face.
"So let's get started?"
"Well, making a contract will take up a lot of our time, so I thought it would be easier to just say and agree between us-
"It will be easier this way, to write down and establish the rules and the conditions we want to do during all this, just to have everything clear and not miss anything, Aemond," you interrupt him, taking out a notebook and a pen to start writing.
"Okay, fine," he says, shrugging his shoulders.
"So?" you watch him expectantly with the blank sheet of paper in front of you and your pen in hand, "What do you suggest first?"
"Well... first we need to know when this will all end," he begins to say, adopting a relaxed but firm stance, "And I would say that it may end when it is no longer necessary for both of you to continue pretending. But I think it's a better idea for us to last until graduation."
He proposes, looking at you intently, waiting for your reaction and you can't help but be a little surprised to hear that.
"Until graduation?" you repeat and he nods, "But you really want to do this for almost five months?"
"I know it's a long time, but that time can be beneficial for both of us," he explains, "That's enough time to give our relationship credibility and authenticity and it's also enough time to handle any problems that arise."
He says and you nod cautiously, evaluating his words.
"But if you disagree, tell me," he hurries to say.
His calm tone and your reasons contrast with the uncertainty and indecision you feel. And the two of you have barely started.
Five months is such a compromising situation and it generates some concern, because you know you will face so many things you still have no idea about and every day it could become more complicated to maintain the farce.
"I guess it's okay," you cautiously admit, trying to see the big picture, "But I feel like it's still a long time. But also reducing that time might not be enough," you agree.
"Yes but I'm sure we can handle it. And don't worry, if at some point we feel it's too much or we don't have enough reason to keep pretending anymore, we can talk iand end it."
You remain pondering, considering his words and after a few seconds you nod in agreement, and write it down as the first point on the sheet. But this alone is the first piece of a much more complicated puzzle.
1. Duration of relationship: Until graduation.
And Aemond also brings up the next point of the contract, expressing his ideas with quiet but evident assurance.
"Now, second..." he begins, "As for behavior in public, we should genuinely show affection in the hallways, cafeteria, and at any school activity and event. In a relationship people don't take their hands off each other, so we should smile at each other, hug each other, make subtle gestures, hold hands-
"Don't say kissing, please," you interrupt him, pleading, taking him by surprise.
"Of course, Y/N," he tells you instantly, incredulous, "Obviously we'll have to kiss."
As if having to act completely in love with him and be every moment touching him isn't enough. But the idea of kissing seems a bit much to you.
"I agree about showing affection and all that, but that kissing thing might be awkward and... weird," you say, trying to be sincere but not seeming completely closed off to the idea.
Aemond looks at you incredulously.
"So you don't want us to kiss?"
"I don't think it's necessary, honestly."
"Are you crazy? How are we supposed to pretend if we're not going to kiss? No one's going to believe us if we don't kiss and that's what will literally make the whole relationship believable," he insists, visibly concerned.
"Yeah, I get that it might seem necessary, but...at least I don't want to be having to kiss you every single time."
"You don't want to kiss me?" he asks you, visibly surprised, confused and... maybe a little hurt?
You watch him silently for a moment not understanding his reaction and then watch him with a small amused smile.
"I'm not one of your fans, Targaryen."
"Oh come on, everyone wants to kiss me," he says confused and incredulous, proving his point.
"Even the guys?"
"Well... yeah, I don't know, maybe some of them," he says with a shrug.
"Seven Hells," you mutter, averting your gaze for a moment, "I-I really don't want to do that," you say, speaking seriously and then you let out a sigh, "But you're right that no one's going to believe us-
"Obviously. I always have," he is quick to say.
"So my proposal is this... we'll kiss, yes, but only when it's extremely necessary, and when I say extremely necessary I mean extremely necessary."
You watch him intently, keeping yourself willing with your proposal, waiting for his opinion, which judging by his face, he doesn't quite agree with.
"And what would those extremely necessary moments be exactly?" he inquires, attentive and interested, also still looking slightly worried.
"In the cafeteria or in the hallways when everyone is obviously looking at us and we're attracting attention. Just don't abuse it."
Aemond lets out a long breath.
"Well, let's limit them to extremely necessary moments," he finally says resignedly and you quickly note the second point.
2. Behavior in public: Show affection as genuinely as possible in public, such as gestures, hugs, and holding hands. KISSING ONLY WHEN EXTREMELY NECESSARY.
"But then that second point is also going to apply to the parties you'll be going to with me and my lacrosse games you'll be going to."
You quickly raise your gaze to him.
"What?"
"Yes," he nods, "Going to the parties together will also lend credibility to the relationship and obviously we have to be very close to each other. And it's the same in my games, you must go to support and encourage me, like any girlfriend in love with her boyfriend would."
Aemond's words provoke an instant reaction in you, that confusing you and taking you by surprise.
"But I don't go to parties."
"Now you will," he says with a calm expression, reaching out his hand and taking the pen and your notebook.
"But-
He is already writing in a section further down the sheet which he lists as; 'additional conditions'.
Parties.
Lacrosse games.
"Aemond, I'm not a big fan of parties, really," you insist, "You'll have a bad time if you take me with you and I'll probably ruin everything."
"Don't worry, I'll teach you the trick to having a good time and change that mentality you have. Besides I won't take you to every party, just a few," he assures you, "All while keeping up appearances," he hands you back your notebook and pen, "With me you'll never get bored, I promise," he says with a small smile on his lips.
You let out a sigh, placing the notebook back in front of you, still undecided.
"Yes? Well, we'll see about that. I warned you though."
He lets out a soft little laugh.
"Come on Y/N, you can't be that bad."
"I assure you I can be."
"And so what do you do for fun?" he asks you, keeping his smile, curiosity evident in his gaze.
And there it is, the question that totally describes your personality and that in fact you don't like to answer to just anyone, because then they call you boring. But you can't lie to Aemond, he is astute enough and would notice.
So you decide to be honest.
"I like to read," you reply, lowering your gaze and feeling slightly embarrassed, "And I love going to the movies or watching movies and shows at home, either one is totally fine with me. Oh... and... hm... I also like ice skating, although I don't do that as often but... it's something I like too."
And even though it's only a bit of the world of things you like, Aemond listens to you attentively with a soft expression, saying nothing afterwards, as if he's processing every word you've said, while you only feel more embarrassed by the silence.
You know there's nothing wrong with it but it always made you insecure to share your hobbies, mostly because you know that many girls your age enjoy their teenage years going out with friends to parties and getting drunk.
That didn't and doesn't appeal to you now. You have long been more comfortable with the idea of staying home or going out somewhere else instead of going to parties.
It's not as if you don't attend or avoid every social event, yes you can attend and have a good time depending on who you are with and where, but not as often as every weekend.
However, you understand and recognize the logic behind Aemond's suggestion and that is that attending parties, is essential. And just as he is about to finally speak, you do so first.
"I know they are simple things and are not very exciting for most people. I also know they can be very boring but for me... that's what I like," you shyly confess.
"Hm," he says, taking a small moment, watching you softly, only causing you even more embarrassment, "Well, that's not what I was going to say," he says, catching your attention, "Sometimes it is the simple things that mean the most to everyone and, being honest... I find them interesting," he adds, trying to evaporate any awkwardness and embarrassment you might feel.
You raise your gaze, meeting his bright blue eye watching you softly and with his gaze full of genuine understanding, along with that hint of curiosity. And that gets your attention too.
He's not judging you. And even though it's not something he would do or at least hasn't tried to do yet, he's not judging you for it and you see that genuine interest in his gaze.
"Tell you what, for every party you go to with me, I'll read one of your favorite books or a movie or shows you want me to watch," he says, picking up the notebook and pen again.
"What?" you look at him confused, unable to help but smile in bewilderment, "Are you serious?"
"You must set your own conditions too," he states as he writes, "I already dragged you into my world, so now you're dragging me into yours," he looks up at you, "What do you think? Is it a fair exchange or not?"
His proposal takes you by surprise and also confuses you a little, however, the small smile remains on your face.
The genuine expression of openness on his face and the determination with which he wrote definitely makes you feel more comfortable. His willingness to immerse himself in your interests was not something you had agreed upon from the beginning, nor is it something extremely necessary to fake a relationship.
But it's for the simple reason that you both feel comfortable if you're going to pretend for almost five months and it seems like a nice gesture from him to include it, something you honestly didn't expect from him.
And when he gives you back your notebook, you see the new rule under 'additional conditions'.
For every party Y/N goes to with me, I will read a book or watch one of her favorite movies or shows.
"Yes," you nod, "Sounds like a fair deal to me."
Aemond smiles, pleased with your answer and also seeing the expression on your face.
"Great. We'll see if I discover something new I like. And you too..." he points at you with his index finger, "You won't regret it after you have a great time at my parties," he says enthusiastically, with a sort of complicity in his tone.
"Well, we'll see if you manage to impress me."
And right there, the two of you exchange complicit glances, Aemond having that little smile on his lips while you don't understand this strange new alliance the two of you are building.
But even though you didn't expect it, it's definitely to your liking.
"Now, third..." you point to the notebook with your pen, "Reinforcing the second rule, public appearance," you say, observing him, "We must act as a committed and attentive couple to each other at school and to these parties you want us to go to."
Aemond nods determinedly, thoughtfully.
"Yes, commitment at all times," he states seriously.
"So, that also means that neither of us can be with other people for the duration of all this, not even secretly," you add, making the point clear.
"And you want to write that as a rule too? It's obvious that neither of us should-
"I'll write it as the fourth rule, just to be clear about everything as I told you."
"Oh, fine."
3. Public appearance: Act like a real couple in love, be committed and attentive to each other at school and social events.
4. No involvement with other girls/guys: No casual encounters or texting with anyone else for the duration of the fake relationship.
"Oh and also..." says Aemond, reminding, "Since we're at that point, on additional conditions write that we should both upload photos and videos together on our social media. It's another way to lend credibility to our relationship."
"Photos and videos together on our social media," you repeat, looking at the notebook.
And this catches Aemond's attention.
"Don't tell me you don't use your social media," he says beginning to sound alert and concerned.
"No, no, I-I mean, yes," you hasten to say, "It's just... I don't know, I most likely don't use them as often as you do, besided I have very few followers."
"Don't worry, whatever followers you have are fine. Besides, I'm sure they'll increase when I upload my first photo with you."
You roll your eyes with an amused smile.
"Okay, Mr. Popularity."
"And speaking of that, hand me your Instagram and all your networks," he says instantly, grabbing his cell phone from his front pocket, "We better have that all figured out now."
Obviously Aemond's accounts had to be public while you maintain your privacy, with barely thirteen hundred followers while he has almost the entire school following him and probably from other schools as well.
In fact, your numbers compared to his are embarrassing. But you never really had the interest of having more followers on Instagram or more friends on Facebook, Snapchat is the same and apparently that doesn't matter to Aemond.
Upload photos and videos together to our social media.
"And well, I also think another very important thing is to maintain privacy," you suggest, lifting your gaze to watch him and Aemond gives you a confused look.
"Do you really want to write that down too? It's obvious we can't tell anyone-
"Let me enjoy this, Aemond. It's actually fun and I want to write it all down. So act serious," you ask.
He lets out a choked laugh.
"Well, yes, we must be discreet, no one must know that all this is false, only we know the truth and we must keep it that way," he says and you excitedly write it down.
"We mustn't involve our families in this either," you add, watching him intently, "But that will be difficult because your siblings are here," you grimace.
"We can keep up the farse with them for a while too, I'll convince them not to say anything to my mother or the rest of my family. And once everyone here at school is convinced enough, I'll tell the truth only to them," he say sure and confident, solving the problem.
"And you're sure you'll manage to keep them that way?"
"Yeah," he says with a shrug, "They're my siblings. I know how it works with each one."
5. Maintain privacy: Tell absolutely no one about the fake relationship or involve each other's families in it.
"Oh, right, I almost forgot..." Aemond says as he points to what is already written, "You must also go on each year's trip to Dragonstone with me. That's another additional condition of mine."
"What?" you inquire again, surprised and confused.
"Yes, the trip to Dragonstone," he affirms.
Oh God, the trip to Dragonstone.
Dragonstone is an island not far from King's Landing, where there is an ancient castle with a lot of history but has been modernized with the same name and is open to every visitor.
The school makes an annual trip for educational purposes as the castle has relics and structuring from thousands of years ago. You have seen pictures and videos where everything looks really beautiful, ancestral and almost royalty.
In addition the castle offers other activities, such as rides on its huge luxury yachts, surfing, diving and swimming lessons.
You always had the spirit to go but have always known that the trip is anything but educational. You've heard stories that happen with the students, such as getting drunk, partying on the yachts, hot tubs and obviously you've heard stories of who slept with whom.
Even the most reserved get to have fun and it's not something you're interested in. You know you don't fit in that environment, especially since everyone has to share a room and you're sure that if you go, you'll have to share a room with girls with different tastes and perspectives than yours. They probably won't even let you sleep.
"Come on Y/N, you've never been to Dragonstone?" asks Aemond incredulously, noting the grimace on your face for wanting you to go there with him.
"Well, yeah I've wanted to go but... I-I, I don't know, I've heard that instead of learning about the place, everyone goes to having fun, they party, they get drunk and I-I don't...
"And what do you expect us to do in a modern castle on the shore of the beach with yachts and hot tubs?" he inquires again, expectantly, "The trip is planned for the middle of the last month of these five months and you can't let me go alone with the things that go on in that place."
You make your grimace more visible, revealing your clear indecision. And even though you and Aemond have been at odds lately over the matter of tastes, he still places a soft smile in your direction, understanding that you are not like him and prefer to do other things.
"Look, you don't have to go to the parties and drink if you don't want to," he starts to tell you, "But we can at least go to one of the parties on the yachts and then do the activities they offer on site, swimming, diving and all that," he proposes, "We'll take pictures, tour the castle and we'll both be equally satisfied."
You ponder for a moment, considering his proposal. You know you only have to get your father's signature on the permit to be able to go to the island and it's not like you've gone before so... you can do it now.
"Well, I guess that's fine," you nod, "But really promise you won't leave me alone and we'll take the time to do other activities that aren't related to partying on yachts and hot tubs."
"Please, we'll go as a couple, so of course I won't leave you alone. You'll be stuck with me," he assures you, "And I also promise you that we'll do other activities, not just the parties."
"And..." you start to say, in a serious, warning tone, "Also promise you'll pick me up every morning to bring me to school. That's another one of my additional conditions. The bus isn't very comfortable anymore."
He nods, shrugging, completely unconcerned.
"Sure, it's no problem. Besides it will make the relationship more credible," he says softly.
Despite your doubts, you feel a sense of relief at seeing and acknowledging his commitment. And you also feel more confident knowing that you have his support in all of this, even in your conditions. So you write down the two new additional conditions.
Drive Y/N every morning to school.
Dragonstone trip.
At the end you both sign the sheet, looking honestly ridiculous but being funny, then both seal the whole contract by shaking hands.
"So when do we start all this?" you ask him, putting away your notebook and pen.
"I say tomorrow," he gives you a look of understanding, "But we need to talk now during classes in the hallways or in the cafeteria, so that when they see us together tomorrow, it won't be so surprising and will seem more believable."
You give him an unsure look.
"I think it will still be very surprising, Aemond."
"It doesn't matter, we just have to start showing together today, just talking. But tomorrow is when we really start."
And just as he says those words, with that determination, you feel again those nerves in your lower abdomen and that insecurity. But at least you still have all day today to mentally prepare yourself, and you're grateful for that.
"And before I forget this too..." he says again, "I need you to send me all your academic information to work on your college application now," he tells you seriously and you watch him completely attentively, "The five months will go by fast and during that time college applications will start. So it's best to get it all in now."
At this, you feel your heart start to beat fast and you don't know why, you guess because it's a very important issue for you. And more than anything else it's the reason you agreed to do this with him.
"Yeah, yeah, sure," you say softly, "I-I'll email it all to you."
He smiles softly in your direction.
"Very well," he nods at you, "I'll text you my email."
Despite your slight doubts about whatever is going to happen next, the idea of starting a fake relationship leaving you with a knot in your stomach and feeling your emotions mixed, you know this will all be worth a try.
So you pick up your phone and you start to write in an email all your personal and academic information. While at the same time all is said and done and the fake relationship contract is over.
THE CONTRACT
Duration of relationship: Until graduation.
Behavior in public: Show affection as genuinely as possible in public, such as gestures, hugs, and holding hands. KISSING ONLY WHEN EXTREMELY NECESSARY.
Public appearance: Act like a real couple in love, be committed and attentive to each other at school and social events.
No involvement with other girls/guys: No casual encounters or texting with anyone else for the duration of the fake relationship.
Maintain privacy: Tell absolutely no one about the fake relationship or involve each other's families in it.
ADDITIONAL CONDITIONS
Parties.
Lacrosse games.
For every party Y/N goes to with me, I will read a book or watch one of her favorite movies or shows.
Upload photos and videos together to our social media.
Drive Y/N every morning to school.
Dragonstone trip.
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general taglist
@melsunshine @at-a-rax-ia @jxdegodfrey @ttkttt @yentroucnagol @kate-to-the-ki @iamavailablesstuff
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nox140497 · 4 months
Text
Comfort
Prompt: No
Request: No
Summery: After reading the comments on their latest video, Colby feels really down. Seeing this and knowing Sam feels pretty down, too, Kat sends Colby's girlfriend an SOS, knowing she would know what to do.
Parings: Colby Brock Reader
Authors Note: Hi guys. Heres another one for you. You guys seem to like the Sam and Colby content, so here you guys go. Also, please feel free to make requests if you have any.
Also this >>>>>>>>>>>>>>> means timeskip
This<<<<<<<<<<<<<<< means flashback
Masterlist
Prompt List
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It was a normal day for Sam and Colby. They had posted a new video recently and were going through the comments.
The comments on this video, however, were particularly negative for no reason. They also seemed to be mostly targeted at Colby.
Needless to say, both boys were a bit upset and wanted comfort. Sam had Kat up in his room with him, but Colby's girlfriend Y/N was still at work. Seeing the state her own boyfriend was in, she could only imagine what state Colby was in, seeing as they were practically targeting him.
So, making a decision to help her friend, she sent Y/N an SOS text. This was a message that the girls of the trap house had started using when the boys were all still staying in the first traphouse. It was a message that said there was trouble and to get there ASAP. She got a response telling her her friend would be there soon.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Y/N walked into the dimly lit house. It was way too quiet for the people who lived there. Now she understood why she had received the SOS from Kat. She walked up to her boyfriends room, figuring out that's where she would find him. Her heart ached as she saw her boyfriend, Colby, slumped on the ofice chair by his desk. Colby had always been a strong and resilient person, he almost always had that beautiful contagious smile of his on his face, but today, the weight of negative comments on his and Sam's video had taken its toll, dragging him into a whirlpool of doubt and self-criticism. She had seen the comments on the video. She had been absolutely furious when they had attacked the boys who worked so hard to make content for the fans who they loved. She had been beyond furious when she saw the ones targeting her love personally.
She couldn't fathom how these people could be so cruel to a man who gave his everything to give them content that they would enjoy.
Seeing this man, the man she absolutely adored, the man who had unkowingly saved her life, like this, slouching in his chair with his head in his hands, his shoulders shaking ever so slightly, didn't just break her heart, it shattered it into millions of tiny pieces.
Y/N aproached him softly not wanting to startle him too much, she knew he had noticed her when he lifted his head ever so slightly. The look in his beautiful ocean blue eyes broke her heart even more. She gently brushed Colby's messy hair away from his forehead and placed a tender kiss on his temple. "I love you," she whispered softly, her voice permeating the air with soothing affection. Colby's breath hitched as he absorbed her words, the depth of her love washing over him like a healing balm. He leaned into her body and buried his head in her chest. She continued to very gently run her fingers through his hair.
"Those comments don't define you, Colby, and they cerainly don't come from all of your fans. Most of them love you boys and you know that." Y/N spoke, her voice steady yet filled with conviction. "You are talented, creative, and so loved by many—including me. Your worth isn't measured by the opinions of faceless strangers."
Her words resonated, and Colby's tense shoulders began to relax slightly. Y/N knew that while her words were a start, actions would speak louder than anything she could say. She took his hand in hers, entwining their fingers as a symbol of unwavering support.
Y/N gently pulled Colby up off his chair and guided him to lay down on the bed, propping pillows up behind his back for support. Tenderly, she covered him with a soft blanket, creating a cozy haven that shielded away the negativity and doubt that had plagued him all day.
She lay curled up next to him and gently ran her fingers through his hair. Eventually, his breathing started to even out, and soft snores started to come from his slightly parted lips.
She continued to watch over him, marveling in just how much love she had for this man. He was the love of her life, and she knew and had known for a while now that his was her person. This was the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.
She reached over and grabbed her phone. She texted Kat, asking her how Sam was doing. After hearing that the man she cared for as an older brother would be ok and was also asleep, she bid her sister in all but blood a good night put her phone back on the nightstand and cuddled into Colby's side. Falling asleep content in the knowledge that her boys were going to be ok.
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