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#mean that they are not just friends am i missing something or what
propertyofwicked · 10 hours
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FIRST - LN
lando discovers his bestfriends little sister is a virgin, and will stop at no lengths to change that (and ruin her for anyone else)
warnings: smut!! MDNI!! virgin reader, fewtrell!sister, mostly soft smut with a small innocence kink
✧ it's officially assignment szn and ur girl is STRESSED. my posts wont be as frequent for a while but i am currently creating a backlog of things to post! ✧
masterlist the playlist
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“ok, y/n - truth or dare?” ria asked the girl from across the circle they sat in on the floor of max’s living room.
being so close in age to her older brother, y/n fewtrell fit in well with his friendship group, often preferring to hang out with them over her own friends. a few others were dotted around the house, P and a couple girls using the kitchen. they were all due to head to a club soon, only using max’s house to pre drink as he lived closest.
“truth,” she responded, giggling slightly as the alcohol began to turn her tipsy - not drunk, just jolly she had told max when he last checked on her.
“where is the weirdest place you’ve had sex?” ria asked, giggling to herself at the rest of the group laughed, turning to face y/n for her answer. she went silent, heat rising her face gradually. her eyes scanned the group, everyone staring expectantly at her - only max avoided her gaze, looking at his phone to queue songs to the playlist.
“i- uh, well i guess i…haven’t?” she replied, wishing the ground would open up and swallow her whole. she didn’t know why she was so embarrassed - she was 19, almost 20, and it seemed that everyone around her was coupled up, or at least active in that department. and, it hadn’t been through lack of trying, every man she had almost been with had found out and used it to get to who she was related to - and subsequently, lando - or gave her the ick before they got the chance to.
“what do you mean you haven’t?!” niran had laughed out, he hadn’t meant to laugh, he just couldn’t believe it.
“i ju-”
“ok can we stop quizzing my little sister on her sex life? please,” max interrupted, y/n sighing out a breath of relief when they finally moved to the next person. her eyes scouted across the group of people, glad to see them all distracted and no longer giving her the sympathy eyes over her pathetic excuse of a love life.
in her embarrassment, however, y/n missed the way lando’s eyes had darted to look at her when she had answered, missing the way they darkened slightly at the revelation. he shook the thoughts plaguing his mind away, focusing on keeping his face neutral as he watched the blush rising her cheeks.
she didn’t miss the way his eyes followed her as she snuck out the room, however. she’d hope no one would notice her sneaking into the kitchen, smiling at P before swiping a bottle of something and heading to the garden, legs landing gracefully to sit on a step.
this was not the first time she had dwelled on this, but this time, she could at least comfort the blow of her overactive brain by drinking - or so she thought. as not a moment after she’d removed the cap, the bottle was being snatched from her hands and closely inspected by a man towering above her crouched body.
“this smells like ass, y/n - are you sure you wanna drink it?” lando asked her, lowering himself to sit on the step next to her. the sky was darkening, stars filling the vast blackness.
“yes im sure, thanks dad,” she mocked him, arms reaching over to snatch the bottle from him, but once again, he moved his arm out, stretching the bottle further from her reach.
“nuh uh!” lando said, shaking his head, “only when you tell me why you intend on drinking what im sure is the finest bottle of… £3.99 vodka - jesus, £3.99?”
“sorry mister ‘owns-2-mclarens-and-a-lambo’,” she replied, leaning further into his side in a desperate bid to get the bottle back - she wasn’t even sure she wanted to drink it anymore, she just wanted something to fiddle with when lando eventually forced her to talk to him.
“didn’t answer my question, darlin’” he told her, placing the bottle besides him as he removed one of his threaded bracelets, placing it in her exposed palm.
oh he knew her a little too well.
“i jus- no it’s so stupid,” she conceded, the bracelet twisting around her fingers. she stared directly at it, refusing to meet lando’s intense gaze.
“bet it’s not,” he told her, moving an arm to wrap around her when he felt the chill air brush his own skin.
“you know what’s worse than having to announce to your friends that you’re a lonely little virgin that no one wants? being the lonely little virgin. it’s so fucking embarrassing - i’m 19, hell i’m nearly 20 and when everyone around you has someone in their life, it’s so hard not to feel so behind in your own life, to feel completely unlovable, to constantly feel like there’s something wrong with you,” she breathed out, still refusing to make eye contact with the man besides her.
lando took in a deep breath, choosing his next words so carefully. his hand reached up to her chin, turning her face to look up at his.
“y/n, you are not unlovable, you’re not falling behind in life and there is certainly nothing wrong with you,” he told her, his tone harsh in attempt to knock some sense into her. she shook her head at him in disbelief, his hand dropping back to his side.
“see, i really want to believe you but the evidence isn’t really stacking up in support of your argument. if that was true, i probably wouldn’t be sat in my brother’s back garden throwing myself a pity party.”
“i think your brother might’ve had a part to play in this, if im honest y/n,” lando said, slipping up slightly. she paused at his words, before her head shot round to look at him again.
“what? what do you mean max has something do with the fact no one wants me?”
“it’s not that no one wants you, y/n,” he sighed at her again before giving in, realising he’d already said too much to stop now, “it’s just that max has a bad habit of… threatening anyone who even mentions you in that way?” he added, his tone making it sound like he wasn’t even sure himself.
“threatening them?” she repeated, anger beginning to bubble up in her stomach.
“he’s only actually hit 2 of them - hell even ive had a close call with his fist a few times,” lando laughed, before realising what he’d indirectly admitted to. luckily, neither of them had time to dwell on it before the man in question popped his head round the door.
“what are you two losers doing out here?” he joked, before sensing some tension being thrown his way, “whatever, we’re leaving in a minute if you wanna get ready?”
“no thanks,” y/n told him, pushing herself up and beginning to walk past him.
“huh?” max replied, confused.
“i said, no thanks. wouldn’t wanna risk you punching anyone who shows the slightest interest in me,” she added, arms crossed over her chest as she glared at him. she turned quickly on her heel, walking off, ignoring the group as she trailed up to the spare bedroom.
the two boys shared a look between them, lando’s face holding that of apology whilst max’s was gradually moving to infuriated.
“what did you tell her?” max asked him, jaw clenching slightly.
“i didn’t mean to,” lando replied, throwing his arms out slightly as he stood up, “i just thought she ought to know that the reason boys don’t go for her is not because she is completely unlovable.”
“she said that?” max asked, startled slightly at the comment, “she thought she was unlovable?”
lando said nothing, throwing a simple nod at him before brushing past him and making his way to the front door.
y/n laid in her bed, her mind racing through the conversation with lando, like a record on repeat. she’d heard the rest of them leave the house almost an hour ago, leaving her to lay with her own thoughts once more.
there was nothing wrong with her, max just threatened anyone who came too close to her.
max had punched 2 guys who had tried to get with her.
max had tried to punch lando - wait, why had he tried to punch lando?
the sound of the front door opening, then quickly shutting again drew her from her thoughts, a natural panic spreading through her veins.
“hello?” she called out, confused as to who could be walking in the house right now. there was no response for a moment, the sound of footsteps climbing the stairs filled the silence.
“it’s just me, baby,” a voice called out, the childhood nickname letting her know it was lando approaching her bedroom. the name used to be max and lando’s attempt to tease the girl, calling her a baby when she cried after dropping her ice cream. that was when she was 7, but 13 years later, the nickname still stuck. somewhere along the line, the name had turned from mimicking to a term of endearment, blurring the lines of their friendship every time he called out to her.
“oh thank god, i thought you were a murderer,” she joked, her breathing easing as his head poked around the door, eyes meeting hers.
“you thought i was a murderer and chose to shout ‘hello’? brave, or stupid?” lando joked back.
“never let them know your next move,” y/n replied with a shrug, before noticing the way one of lando’s hands remained hidden behind the door, “whatcha got there?” she asked him, the way one would ask a dog who had something they shouldn’t.
“depends, are you gonna be nice to me?” he shot back.
“me? im always nice to you, lan,” an innocent smile built on her face.
“tell that to the scar on my back.”
“tell the scar on your back to get over it, it was 10 years ago,” she snorted as he moved further into the door frame.
“no ice cream for you then,” lando replied, smirking at her as he shrugged.
“you got ice cream?” she asked, eyes widening at him.
“thought you might wanna watch a film and forget about tonight with a flurry.”
“gimme,” y/n said, making grabby hands that would’ve been embarrassing had she not already had the worst night of her life.
“nuh uh, not until you’re nice to m-”
“oh get over here you drama queen,” she groaned at him, patting the spot next to her on the bed. lando would never say no to her, giving in so easily as he climbed under the blanket, an arm falling naturally behind her head as he did.
he began fiddling with the tv remote, scrolling through netflix for something to watch. y/n leant further into his embrace, her head settling lightly on his chest as she looked up at him.
“lan - why didn’t you stay at the club?” she asked quietly, fighting the urge to fiddle with her fingers, nervous at the thought of insinuating that he’d want to spend his evening with her instead.
“clubs are only good when you’re drunk,” lando replied with a shrug, eyes still focused on the tv, “id rather just be the designated driver and still be able to get up for training in the morning.”
his eyes flitted down at her quickly, glad she’d returned her gaze to the screen as if he’d seen her wide eyes staring up at him, lando doubted he’d be able to control himself. what she’d revealed earlier still flew around his brain as he fought desperately to shake away any thoughts of taking her innocence, ruining her for anyone else. god, he felt like a creep.
the two fell into a comfortable silence, both of them appearing to focus on the film playing in front of them. lando’s hand remained tightly around her waist, his hand moving beneath her shirt slightly for his fingers to trace circles into her skin. her head remained on his chest, each breath taking in the lingering smell of his aftershave.
“lan?” she broke the silence again, looking up at him once again.
“yes, baby?” he replied, eyes never straying from the screen.
“what did you mean earlier when you said max had even tried to punch you?”
his head shot down to look at her, feeling himself crumble slightly as her eyes stared widely up at him, her tired voice drawing him further into the trap. he could lie, tell her it was a misunderstanding. or he could tell her the truth, and pray it didn’t destroy his entire friendship with the fewtrell siblings.
“when you told me i wasn’t unlovable earlier, you really meant…” she asked, filling in for his silence. she trailed off at the end of her sentence, unwilling to get her hopes up.
“yeah.. so about that,” he said, trying to regain his confidence. she hit at his chest lightly, pushing herself to sit up and look at his face clearer than ever.
“how long?” she asked him with unwavering eye contact.
“longer than i want to admit,” lando replied, smiling at her awkwardly, “and i understand if you don’t fe-”
“kiss me.”
“wha-”
“you heard me,” she told him before joining their lips apprehensively. it started off slow, both testing the waters before falling into a steady pace. his tongue swiped her bottom lip softly, deepening the kiss as his hand raised to hold her jaw. she stifled a moan, embarrassed at the way her body was reacting to the slightest touch.
“don’t get shy on me now, baby,” he told her, hands dropping to her waist, “come ‘ere.”
lando’s hands settled on her hips, fingers gripping at them slightly to guide her onto his lap. as she settled into the new position, he kissed her again, gentle in the way he pulled her in closer, his free hand disappearing under her shirt to draw circles into her skin once more. her hips instinctively rolled into his at the feeling, and he gripped at her skin harder, a small groan escaping his mouth.
“fuck, keep that up and i won’t be able to stop,” he warned her as she rolled her hips again. his head dropped to her jaw, pressing soft kisses along the skin.
“what if i don’t want this to stop?” she asked him, causing him to pause, looking up at her softly.
“are you sure?” he asking, checking her face for any sign of hesitancy. she nodded at him before speaking.
“there’s no one i trust more.”
with her reassurance, lando flipped the top of them over, trailing kisses down her neck as he hovered above her.
“we’ll go slow,” he told her as he pulled at her t-shirt, tugging the fabric up her torso, “wanted this for so long. gonna take my time with you,” he mumbled, pressing soft kisses to the skin of her stomach. her back arched into him slightly, helping him remove her top fully. y/n felt exposed, more so than usual. had it not been for lando’s large hands snaking up to grab at her breasts, she would’ve used her own to shield her nudity.
“so gorgeous,” he mumbled again, before dipping his head to take one of her nipples in his mouth, tongue flicking at it, his fingers tugged at the other. he pushed himself back up, re joining their lips in a sweet kiss.
“gonna make you feel good, alright?” he asked her, watching the way her head nodded at him, “yeah? need you to use your words from now on baby.”
“think you should take your top off now,” she told him, her confidence returning slightly, “seems a bit unfair,” she added, jokingly pointing at her own exposed chest.
“so it is,” he agreed, sitting back on his knees as his hands gripped the bottom of his own t-shirt, lifting it over his head. the material landed on the floor, but y/n couldn’t care less - she was much more focused on the way his muscles looked, a combination of his tan and the soft fairy lights illuminating his features in a way that had her stomach rolling for him.
“oi! my eyes are up here,” he joked, settling himself between her legs. lando’s hands trailed up the exposed skin of her thighs, dragging his fingers slowly. her hips jutted up slightly at the sensation, a satisfied smirking fighting its way onto lando’s face.
“this ok?” he asked her, hands toying with the waistband of her shorts.
“yeah,” she breathed out, anticipation beginning to get the better of her as he began pulling the material away from her heat.
“tell me to stop and i’ll stop,” lando told her, discarding her shorts with his top, before adjusting his gaze to her, “just relax f’me. breathe,” he added, noticing the way her chest had frozen, breath caught in her throat. a finger ran through her folds softly, her hips rolling slightly at the sudden feeling of his rough finger pad circling her clit. his movements stopped for a moment as he moved back up her body, kissing her softly as he gathered her slick along his fingers.
“so wet for me,” he told her, kissing at her jaw, “gonna get you ready for me, ok?”
“please, lan,” she begged, panting slightly as his fingers circled her heat again, pressing into her slightly. it’s not like she hadn’t done this before on herself, which was potentially her downfall the moment he pressed a finger into her, the stretch unexpected. lando’s face pressed into her neck, kissing a trail along the skin as he pumped his finger a few times. he could hear every noise she made for him so clearly, drawing him to push a second finger into her, feeling the way her walls clamped around him.
“im ready, lan, please just fuck me,” she begged him, panting in between her words. he could’ve passed out her words, blood rushing from his brain and straight to his cock. his body pushed back up, standing quickly to remove the rest of his clothes. her hands halted him as they reached out and grabbed at the waist band of his joggers, pulling them down slowly as the pressure of his cock strained against the tight material. he helped her remove them fully, her spare hand adding difficulty as she palmed him through his boxers.
“fuck, angel,” he groaned, careful not to overwhelm her as she pulled at his boxers, tugging them down as she had his joggers. however they soon established his noises were not as overwhelming as the size of his cock - her eyes widening as she came face to face with it, her finger running down the thick vein that travelled his length.
“like what you see?” he joked in attempt to ease her nerves.
“how-? is that gonna fit?” she stuttered, gaze travelling down to her stomach as if she were trying to size herself up.
“im sure we’ll make it work,” he replied, hand reaching to her chin, forcing her to look back up at him, “remember, we can stop whenever.”
she nodded at him, before reaching up, looping her arms around his neck to pull him into a kiss. he used the leverage to lay her back down, hovering over her once again as he rested on his forearm. without breaking the kiss, he reached down, guiding his cock through her folds a few times before settling the tip at her entrance.
“you sure?” lando checked again, searching her face for any last minute apprehension.
“are you sure?” she retorted, her smile illuminated by the moons glow, “can’t imagine fucking a virgin is high on your bucket list.”
“you’d be surprised,” he responded, mumbling slightly, his cock throbbed in his hand. he began lowering his hips, pushing into her slowly, low grunts falling from his lips as he disappeared further inside her.
“breathe baby, breathe for me,” he told her, feeling the way her body had tensed, her chest stilling as she inhaled deeply, “feel so good.”
lando waited a moment, watching the way her face softened, his necklace dangling dangerously around her lips. he started moving at a gentle pace, careful to listen to her responses.
“feels good,” she told him, eyes looking into his.
“yeah? ‘my the first person to make you feel good?” he asked, baiting her slightly.
“yes, fuck lan. only you.”
he close to lost it, his brain short circuiting at her words. he began to move faster in her, relishing in the way she moaned his name, her walls contracting around his cock. his hand reached between the two of them, fingers flicking at her clit before drawing pressured circles around her heat.
“faster, lan, please,” y/n begged him, her hand raising to tug at his curls.
“gonna ruin you for anyone else, angel,” he grunted, hips snapping into hers at a brutal pace, his eyes focused on the way her breasts moved in unison with his thrusts.
lando felt his high coming quicker than he could ever remember, feeling the way her grip on his bicep tightened and her breathing became more sporadic letting him know she was close too.
“you wanna cum with me?” he asked her, his tone soft whilst his pace remained rough, his fingers beginning to trace his own name on her clit. it gave him a sense of ownership over her, an invisible trace of him that would linger on her sensitivity forever - and she loved it, whining at the feeling of his skin on hers.
“please, fuck. wanna cum,” she told him, eyes shutting as her head rolled back. lando’s head dropped to her exposed neck, his teeth nipping at the skin before he titled his head further, mouth landing on the flesh of her breast. he’d quickly realised that leaving visible mark on his best friends little sister was potentially not the smartest idea, choosing to nip at the skin of her tit, mouth sucking the flesh into his lips as he did. his raised himself up again, admiring the way blood ran to the surface of her skin, only imagining the way she’d look when a bruise formed on the spot.
“only me?” he asked her, hand moving to grip her jaw, dark eyes locking with hers.
“only you,” she replied in a breathless moan.
“good girl,” he said, feeling the way her hips rolled up into his, heat running through her entire body as her climax washed over her. y/n shook around him lightly, her stomach spasming as she rode out her high, but lando couldn’t stop and admire the view. he pulled out quickly, feeling his own high rising in his cock, both of their eyes glued on the way his cock shot out ropes of cum that landed on her stomach.
“so….” she started, trying to fill the somewhat awkward tension in the room.
“we are so doing that again,” he said with a chuckle and he moved to locate his joggers on the floor.
“oh absolutely,” she replied, laughing with him as the fear of him leaving her washed away, though her eyebrow quirked up at him as he shuffled to the door.
“just grabbing a cloth. gotta get you cleaned up so we can finish the film,” he added with a smile.
minutes later, they were both sat back in the bed, her legs thrown over his lap as one hand grazed the skin of his back lightly, lando’s hand running up and down her thigh in a similar fashion. they sat in a comfortable silence, knowing that eventually they would need to discuss the future of this, the future of them, but for now lando relished in the way her hand continuously stroked at the same spot on his back. the same spot - he internally questioned.
“watcha doing?” he finally asked, curious to her supposed fixation on his left shoulder blade.
“apologising to the scar on your back?” she retorted, circling back to their earlier conversation.
“never apologise for anything ever again,” he mumbled into her hair, before pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
“what if i murdered your entire family?” she piped up.
“i support women’s rights and their wrongs.”
“preach.”
-
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sometimesanalice · 3 days
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Make Me Your Masterpiece
Summary: Bob credits you for helping him to find his new hobby. And when he asks if he can you paint you, you find you quite like the idea of being his muse.
Pairing: Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x Female Reader
Length: 4.5K
Warnings: fluff, smut, and basically an ode to Lewis Pullman’s hands (mdni)
(Author’s Note: smutty fics are the new friendship bracelet, spread the word! Happy Birthday, Ames! 🎉 @laracrofted)
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You’ve always had a thing for Bob’s hands.
They were one of the first things you noticed about him that day at the coffee shop almost a year ago now.
You’d been reaching for your iced vanilla cinnamon latte when a big hand had wrapped around it just a half of a second before you could grab it. Which you wouldn’t have minded admiring them for a moment under any other circumstances, but after an endless string of meetings you’d been in a dire need of a caffeine fix- and not the weak stuff that people brewed in your office’s communal coffee pot.
“I think that’s-” you’d started.
“Oh, I’m sorry-” the coffee thief backpedaled.
The next thing you knew you were looking into the prettiest pair of ocean blue eyes. 
The two of you were startled out of the moment when the barista called out the next order as they’d set it on the counter.
By some kismet or fate, they had been a matching set. But instead of embroidered towels, it was his and hers coffee cups with your names written on them in a hasty scrawl.
Realization dawned over his features as he gave you a sheepish smile, “Think this one might belong to you, Miss.” He spun the coffee until he found the spot with your name. That little smile becoming a full grin as he’d said it aloud before passing the cup to you.
The hands had been good, the eyes had been great, but Bob’s smile directed at you had left you weak in the knees.
You’d been a goner right then and there.
And while you’d ended up almost ten minutes late to your next meeting, you’d also gone back to the office with his phone number written on a cardboard coffee sleeve that was tucked away safely in your purse and a date lined up later that week.
As it turned out fate had a name and it was Robert Floyd.
Barely twenty minutes into your first official date with Bob, his ears had turned a delightful shade of pink as his anxious fingers straightened the silverware on the white linen tablecloth of the Italian spot he’d taken you to. He’d fessed up and apologized as he came clean, telling you that he’d purposefully ordered the same coffee as you in hopes of getting to start up a conversation with the pretty girl who’d been standing in front of him in line.
“I didn’t want to interrupt you, since you looked busy. But I didn’t want to miss my chance,” he’d confessed over candlelight.
He’d told you how he’d only been at the coffee shop because he’d recently returned from a deployment and was fighting the jetlag that came with adjusting to being back on Pacific Standard Time, and that he normally preferred tea but he needed something with a bit more to it to get him through the day.
Instead of getting up and taking the bottle of wine to-go as a consolation prize, like you would have if it had been anyone else, his genuine earnestness had charmed you instantly. And you’d settled on having a second date with him before the first one had even really started.
You only let him sweat it for about thirty seconds before you took pity on him. With a light fingertip, you traced along one of the veins on the back of his hand and simply asked, “So other than being a meet cute mastermind, what is it that you do for a living, Bob?”
It was the best first date you’d ever had.
For your second date with him, you’d bought tickets to a ‘Paint and Sip’ event at a buzzy new bistro in town your friend had told you about.
You weren’t an artist by any means, but during that dinner date his antsy fingers and expressive hands had clued you into how nervous he’d been. You’d found your eyes drifting to them on more than one occasion. Partly because they were so enticingly disproportionate to the rest of him, but also because you couldn’t look him directly in the eye for too long without feeling your face heating up.
You thought it would be a good way for the both of you to work past the getting-to-know-you jitters, something that would keep your hands and eyes occupied enough to relax a bit more and have fun together.
Although instead of the seascape class you’d thought you’d signed up for, you’d willingly paid $86+ tax to watch Bob’s lithe, long fingers delicately grip a paintbrush in a way you thought was going to make you lose your mind.
You’d spent the whole first hour trying and failing to mix the perfect shade of blue before giving up when you’d realized that the man next to you, in addition to having really great hands, was also very good at painting. 
Bob had seemed surprised by that too because he’d kept flushing that wonderful shade of pink that had quickly become your new favorite color every time you complimented his piece.
He had steady, capable hands. But you were quickly learning that everything about Bob Floyd seemed that way. There was a quiet confidence about him. He didn’t shy away from the way he’d openly observed you, like you were a riddle he was enjoying learning to decode. 
You’d never known a man to be so attentive until him.
Bob’s tongue was peeking out as he’d worked on adding some wispy clouds to the top of his piece. You weren’t even sure what step you’d technically stopped at before you’d given up to watch the visual feast of him painting instead. Only halfheartedly adding random bits to your canvas along the way to make sure it wasn’t totally blank by the end of the session.
You’d been so zoned out watching him create that it was like a slow-motion sequence in a horror movie. You’d reached out for your wine glass, lifting it to your lips to take a sip, it had only taken you a split second to realize it wasn’t the full-bodied red you’d ordered that was coating your tongue, but the murky, gritty paint water instead.
Mortified, you’d looked over just in time to see Bob’s empathetic wince. You’d been hoping to fly under the radar, but it had turned out that you’d had more than one set of eyes on you.
“And we officially have our first casualty of the evening, folks,” the instructor cheerily announced to the group, “The rest of you can breathe easy now!”
You wanted to be able to laugh at your own expense, but you’d groaned as you buried your face in your hands.
It was not the way you saw the night going. You wanted to be dazzling, you wanted that pivotal third date with him. But now you were the girl who drank paint water whose canvas looked like it had all the same efforts as an enthusiastic fourth grader.
Bob’s hands had gently wrapped around your wrists before he’d pulled them from your face. And then he’d leaned in close, taking your chin in his hand and kissed you squarely on the lips, his tongue dipping in and sliding against yours to taste the acrylic pigment from your surprised mouth.
“Huh,” he’d said, contemplatively. He’d pulled away only far enough to look into your eyes and give you a soft smile. “Celadon blue doesn’t taste like a Cabernet, go figure.”
He brushed a light kiss against your cheek as he’d passed you your wine glass so that you could rinse the paint water taste out of your mouth. 
You couldn’t help but to still be a little embarrassed, but then you’d caught the way he’d shoot an unimpressed look at the instructor every time they passed by for the rest of the evening. You didn’t need a knight in shining armor when you had a Bob Floyd with a paintbrush and a cutting side eye.
You took him home with you that night and learned for yourself just how capable those hands of his were.
It was only later that you realized the exact shade of blue that you’d been trying so hard to capture earlier that night was the same color as the eyes that gazed down at you as Bob fucked you for the very first time.
There was no way you could have known that the ‘Paint and Sip’ date would have inspired him to pick up painting as a hobby.
First, he’d started taking classes at the Rec Center. His once a week classes later turned into him checking out books from the library. And then he’d turned his spare bedroom into a studio, as it has the best afternoon light in the Spanish style house he rents near the Naval base. He’d even bought a comfy chair for you to curl up in as he painted, a little nook of your own in his favorite space in his home. And steadily, the walls of both your apartment and his place fill up with all of his creations.
You’d even had your favorite one professionally framed. The pretty landscape done in shades of soft greens that he gave to you for your birthday hangs in a place of honor above your bed. You like having that piece of Bob as one of the last things you see before you fall asleep and one of the first things you see in the morning on the rare occasion the two of you aren’t sharing a bed. You liked to imagine the hours he spent on it with the sunlight streaming through the open window as he lovingly and painstakingly created something just for you with his own two hands.
Although you did have to beg him to sign it for you. He claimed that since he does it for fun that there’s really no reason too, but you were adamant about it and he’d eventually caved and scrawled his name in the lower right-hand corner.
Now it’s become your personal mission to ensure that every Bob Floyd original has his signature on it when he gives his paintings out as gifts.
Everyone assumes that his art would be all straight lines and precise angles, but it’s your favorite moment when people get to see his abstract landscapes. He’d told you he spends so much time in the sky that he likes to paint what’s on the ground, the things he doesn’t get to see when he’s 50,000 feet in the air.
You could tell Bob was a little nervous when he first asked to paint you. 
After almost a year with him, you’d think he’d know by now that you’d do anything for him. Not to mention, you were more than a little in love with the idea of being his muse.
“Are you saying you want to paint me like one of your French girls?” you’d teased with a grin, unable to resist the opportunity. You always did have a thing for men with perfectly floppy hair.
He’d tipped your chin up so that you were looking into his blue eyes- a color you were positive couldn’t be replicated- and stated, “No, I want to paint you like my girl.”
Which is how you’ve ended up naked on the floor of his living room.
You’d been surprised when you came downstairs to see that the furniture had all been pushed to the side to make space for the king-sized top sheet he’d laid out on the floor. You figured it must have been from some mismatched set he had stashed in his linen closet because you’d never seen it before and you spent more than enough time in his bed getting familiar with his sheets.
Bob was shirtless and wearing only a pair of loose-fitting and paint stained jeans that were hanging low on his hips as he worked on getting all of his brushes and paints set up.
You were pretty sure that Michelangelo himself wouldn’t be able to do proper justice to Bob’s body. He wasn’t as built as some of his friends on the Dagger Squad were, but there was an undeniable sturdy steadfastness to him. Those defined shoulders and arms often were the stars of your afternoon daydreams, since you got to admire his handsome face anytime your phone lit up.
He came and met you at the bottom of the stairs, giving you a low whistle, “Well, aren’t you as pretty as a picture in my shirt.”
“Oh,” you’d said, feigning surprise and toying with the hem, “So it is.” And then you’d slowly lifted it up and off of you, revealing more of your body to his artist’s eye.
You never felt as good about yourself as you did when you were naked in front of Bob. The color of his morning skies eyes would always darken to a deep shade of Prussian blue as he took in the curves of you. With him you always felt appreciated, wanted, desired.
His greedy hands came to grip your hips pulling you to him until you were pressed against him.
“Is this how you wanted me?” you asked, running your fingers through his hair.
Bob slipped his hand behind your neck and tugged you in for a heated kiss. “I always want you.”
You never knew true distraction until you’d felt Bob’s lips against yours all those months ago. You’d happily lose minutes, hours, days to them. The thing about Bob is that he never does anything halfway. If he’s kissing you, he’s doing it thoroughly until you’re out of breath.
The sound of the air conditioner kicking on and the light draft that it coasted over you reminded you that there were other plans on the agenda. And that the sooner he starts, then the sooner he finishes, and the sooner you can feel his lips on other parts of you.
“Where do you want me?”
“In my bed,” he murmured against your lips.
His name started as a laugh but turned into a sigh as he dropped a line of kisses down your neck, “I meant, like on the couch or on one of the chairs from the kitchen.”
Bob pulled away and peered deep into your eyes, “Darlin’, I wanted to paint you.” He trailed a teasing finger down your soft stomach. “If that’s alright with you.”
You thought you were just going to be his subject, but as it turns out he wanted you to be his canvas too.
You’re trying not to shiver as he meticulously coats your overheated skin with cool paint. Goosebumps follow in the wake of every delicate stroke he makes along your body.
His hair was curled over his forehead in a way that had your fingers aching to touch him. There was a slight furrow between his eyebrows as he concentrated on the deliberate lines and curves he painted on you. The paint smudge on his cheek only made him all the more attractive to you.
Bob had tucked a pillow beneath your head before he’d started, a gesture that you appreciated now because time had lost all meaning to you. You had no idea how long you’ve been lying there. You were pretty sure every inch of you had to be covered by now.
He’d started along the plane of your stomach and steadily worked his way out from there. Up your arms. Along your clavicle. Over your breasts and tops of your thighs. You didn’t miss the way he’d smirked when you arched into that soft to the touch paintbrush as it glided over your peaked nipple. Or the way he’d hummed pleased when you’d try to subtly rub your thighs together to relieve the need that had been building as you laid there.
Bob loves taking his time with you. In bed, he loved teasing you until you had tears in your eyes and were begging for his cock. And it became clear very quickly that this would be no different.
There was an electric thrum that was pulsing through your body with every dip and swirl and brushstroke. The muscles of your stomach jump involuntarily as the fine hairs of his paintbrush drift over your hypersensitive skin making you whimper.
He tsks, “Gotta stay still for me, pretty girl. I’m almost done, promise.”
You release a shaky sigh and nod, not trusting your voice to betray just how needy you were for him. Although the self-satisfied smile on his face told you everything you needed to know.
You try to control your breathing as he works on finishing, but your shallow breaths sounded loud in his living room. You love getting to watch him work normally, but the intense way he is looking at you- his eyes your favorite shade of Prussian blue now- is too much for your hummingbird heart.
Just as your skin was collecting layers of paint from his brush, the space between your thighs was steadily collecting your wetness. You were so desperate for him to touch you, the need made you want to crawl out of your skin.
You hear the sound of a watery swish and the clink of a brush against glass and your breath catches in your throat in anticipation.  
“God, look at you,” Bob breathes, reverently, “You’re so beautiful. This might be my best work ever.”
Instead of the paintbrush, you can feel the path of his flame blue gaze traveling over you as he takes in the art he’s made out of you.
You open your heavy eyes and see Bob wiping off his hands with a frayed towel.
“There she is,” he says, giving you a smile that makes your toes curl. You didn’t notice it sitting there with all his paints until he was reaching for it, his dad’s old film camera. He holds it loosely in front of him like a question, “Can I take a few just for me?”
The answer is easy, “Yes.”
You trusted Bob more than any other man you’d ever been with. He’s never once given you reason to doubt his words because his actions always spoke for themselves.
The guys you’d been with before had been boys, Bob Floyd was a man.
The tension between the two of you is thicker than the acrylic he’d been using earlier as he snaps photo after photo. You admire the way his muscles shift as he bends and angles himself to get the perfect images.
He stands over you, the lens pointed down at you, “Look at me.”
You can barely breathe. You feel yourself getting even wetter at the thought of seeing yourself through his eyes. No one has ever made you feel the way he does.
“Bob”, you whine.
The camera clicks.
“I know,” he hums, “You’ve been so good for me.”  He sinks to his knees between your legs and hooks a hand behind your knee, pulling it up so it’s propped on the floor. And then he does the other so that you’re sprawled open for him, just the way he likes you to be, “Just one more, darlin’.”
The heat in his eyes has dried up all the words in your mouth.
He trails a finger down the soft skin of your inner thigh and you gasp.
The sound of his camera reverberates in your head.
“You’ve made such a pretty mess,” he drawls, as he gently sets the camera on the floor next to you. “It’s a good thing I put something down. You’re damn near dripping.”
“Bob, please.” You arch towards him like a flower in the sun.
He settles between your thighs and pushes them apart further so that his broad shoulders fit between them. The paint is still drying on your skin, but neither one of you cares about that now.
“You were so perfect for me. I appreciate you staying so still.” He drops a kiss to the inside of your thigh. “Don’t worry, I know just how to thank you.”
Your body jolts at the first touch of his tongue on your clit. You can feel his smile against you, he knows exactly what he does to you.
Bob has always eaten you out like it’s what he was put on this earth to do.
Normally, he’s teasing you with gentle licks and tracing nonsensical shapes on your clit with his tongue until you’re a squirming mess for him. He knows your body so well, always building you up to the point where you’re breaths away from tipping over the edge and then pulls himself back before building you right back up again.
But tonight, there’s nothing playful about the way his mouth is working against you. His hot mouth is sealed to your clit. Bob hums in satisfaction with every keen and whine that he pulls out of you. He laves at you until you’re writhing underneath him, your thighs already shaking.
“Wanna paint you just like this,” he murmurs, sucking at the spot where your leg and hip meet. “But I don’t think you’d stay still long enough for me to finish.”
Bob dips down and gives you another long broad stroke of his tongue. He pulls back only long enough to spit on your cunt before diving right back in, chasing after his own taste on you.
Your hands are in his hair. Clutching at his shoulders. It’s taken him no time at all getting you to the point where you’re trembling and taut.
All the air leaves your lungs when he buries two large fingers into you. Your hips cant into his mouth on their own and he moans. Bob wraps an arm around your hips and presses down on your lower stomach to hold you in place.
You feel the pain smear beneath his warm palm. You were dying to see it. You hoped there was a handprint- his handprint- that disrupted all the lines and swirls of color that he’d decorated you with. Something that was distinctly him.
You were wearing his art and now you’re wearing him. The evidence of this moment in time on your skin.
His fingers and tongue weren’t enough.
You needed more.
“You cock, Bob, I need your cock,” you pant, tugging at his hair.
He meanly sucks your clit into his mouth in a way that has you crying out and jerking against him. You love it, you love him.
“God, I love it when you beg for me,” he licks into you again, “Sweetest sound in the world.”
Bob drops a sweet kiss on your clit, it’s a stark difference to the filthy way he’d been using his mouth on you. He rises to sit back on his knees between your parted legs.
He looks so good kneeling above you the way that he is. His cheeks are flushed and his hair is a mess. That knot behind your bellybutton twists tighter because you did that to him.
He unzips his jeans and tugs them down low enough to pull his hard cock out.
It’s pretty enough to be featured in a gallery, you think to yourself, even in your desperate haze. It’s long, thick, perfect and yours.
Bob smirks when he notices you admiring him, pumping himself slowly a few times for your viewing pleasure.
The only time Bob Floyd was ever a show-off was when he was in bed.
He grabs your thighs and pulls them over top of his own, so that yours are draped over his obscenely, and then he thrusts easily into you.
You gasp at the sensation of being so full of him. It always takes you a minute to adjust to his cock, no matter how many times you’ve taken it now. His thumbs make little circles along your hipbones as your body relents and yields to the size of him.
“There you go,” he says, rocking into you, working you open, “Just needed this cock, didn’t you?”
You whimper your agreement. Your hips tilt into the pressure like you’re trying to get as much of him as you can. Wanting to show him how much you can take. You know you’ll never get enough of him.
He fucks into you at a reckless and unrelenting pace. You’re high off the feeling of seeing Bob like this, that you’re the one who gets to see him unreserved and uninhibited. He has your hips gripped so tightly, keeping you closer than close. And when you clench around him, you’re treated to a wrecked groan.
Your skin prickles with desire and the feeling of paint drying on you. His cock is hitting just the right spot inside of you and you know you won’t be able to hold off for much longer, not with the way he’s grinding against your aching clit.
Bob’s eyes glued to the spot where you two come together. You’re on full display for him. He watches the way you stretch and spread around him with every deep thrust with the same appreciative gaze that he admires his favorite artists.
It’s under his river blue gaze that your orgasm swiftly sweeps you away. And with your back arching and thighs quaking around his, you give yourself up to the endless current of it.
You know he’s close when his hips start to stutter.
Bob pulls out of you and wraps his large hand around his slick-shined cock and works himself with rough, purposeful strokes.
This time he paints you with himself, his come covering your stomach.
The only sound in the room is the two of you breathing hard, trying to catch your breath.
“Jesus Christ,” Bob huffs, raggedly, taking in his handiwork, “You’re my masterpiece.”
You’re covered in paint and come, but you’ve never felt more beautiful than you do right now as he looks down at you in awe.
“Did you remember to sign your work this time?” you ask, out of breath but teasingly.
“I think I left my mark, darlin’,” he says, with well-earned smugness in his voice. You can’t help but giggle. He flops down next to you, throwing his arm over his eyes, “Goddamn.”
You prop yourself up onto your elbows to look at yourself.
“Baby, I think you gave Jackson Pollock a run for his money.” You grin widely when he lets out an amused snort. “Wait, where’s your camera?”
He passes it to you, the fondness in his eyes makes your chest feel warm. You scooch in close to him and hold it up above your heads, the camera flashes when you kiss his flushed cheek.
That picture is the first one that gets put up in the new house, the one the two of you chose together when he asked you to marry him six months later. Followed by the soft green landscape that now hangs above your shared bed.
It’s your favorite picture of the two of you, happy and in love. You can just see a hint of the cloud he’d painted on your shoulder.
That night Bob had decorated your body with the place he loved best.
He gave you the sky and he made you his world.
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Happy birthday, Ames! Your gift will be mailed eventually, it really was a lesson in chemistry, lol! Enjoy a Bob fic just for you in the meantime!
A big, bigggg thank you to the Bob Babes/Lew Crew girlies! @callsignspark and @attapullman I appreciate you two so much for being such ultimate hypegirls! And thank you to @theharddeck, you helped me out of my writers block and I've been so excited to write this since we talked about it back in January!
You can read my other stories here!
taglist:
@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken  @callsignspark @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @ofstoriesandstardust @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader
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beary-rambles · 2 days
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Undeniable Desire
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c.w season two spoilers; characters (addam and nettles), mention of dragonseeds (nothing more), loss of virginity (jacaerys) non virgin reader, smut, fingering (fem), oral (fem), p in v, clothed sex ?, possessive jacaerys, not proofread
summary: You are dragonseed and have become good friends with the prince. You think nothing of it and not expecting your desires to lead to anything but when you speak of what you think of your future his truer colors show.
w.c: 1.8k
a.n: anybody else cant stop thinking about bridgerton LMAO, i need to rewatch soon, anyways i hope you all enjoy :3 promise im getting around to requests i just needed to push out this idea 🥰 LOVE YOU GUYS
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You finally manage to shake off addam and his drunken rampage with a laugh telling him off. “come on you cant leave yet.” “I am going to bed you fool leave me be.” You knock him upside the head and he groans giving you the opportunity to walk away and turn back to the rest of them with a wave. Chimes of goodnights and sleep well are what your met with and you walk away, feeling eyes burning into you you turn back once more and see him staring at you with an unknown look on his face, taking a drink out of his chalice ignoring alyn next to him who was talking his ear off, not even sparing him a glance as he continues to stare at you.
You turn around attempting to ignore how your stomach burns and your face heats at the thought of him. Jacaerys Velaryon. You just like the rest of your ‘dragonseed’ friends have grown close to jacaerys during your time together. Yet you can’t help but feel their was something different about the way he looked at you and even other people can’t help but notice it either.
‘He is definitely wants to fuck you.’ ‘Nettles!’ The girl next to you laughs before chugging down her wine. ‘Do not say such things.’ Addam walks over and drops down to the spot next to you, ‘what are you two talking about?’ ‘The prince.’ ‘ah and how he wants to shag miss oblivious right here.’ ‘did you guys plan this?!’ You in your frustration rip the cup out of addams hands and chug it. ‘its not our fault he makes it so painfully obvious and you are so painfully oblivious to it.’ You shake your head and keep your gaze at the campfire in front of you. ‘It is not true.’ you don’t see the way the pair look at each other and instead start picking at the grass near you.
Even if it was true it wouldn’t matter, you certainly had no intention of sleeping with him. He was betrothed and he certainly did not seem like the type of man to lay around with any women he saw fit. He was the crowned prince for gods sake the heir to the queen and you were in the middle of a damn succession war feelings be damned and you were certain your friends were just playing jokes on you and he certainly just saw you as a friend.
You think nothing of it as you are getting ready to go to bed, just having put on your night gown after your bath, when the flap of your tent opens and you turn to it alarmed and let out a sigh of relief when you see him. “I am sorry i did not mean to disturb you.” “It is no issue my prince, Do you need something?”
You turn back to the mirror and fiddle around with your hair, eyeing the prince through the mirror. He just stares at you for a moment and takes a drink from his cup, you gulp and look away from him, pushing down your own desires attempting to stop your imagination from running wild. What if he just walked over to you and pushing you against the mirror, ripping off your dress and having his way with you, maybe he would drop to his knees and wrap his lips around your pearl, only letting go until you were withering and begging him to stop.
You shake your head and “Would it be selfish of me to admit i missed you? i feel as though we did not talk much today?” You smile lightly at his words and curse yourself for thinking such terrible things. Of course he simply just wished to see you, as he had been busy with his duties all day, only getting to see you all at the end of they day only for you to leave before getting to say a single word to him.
“You honor me my prince with your time.” He shakes his head with a laugh taking another sip, “i would give you anything in the world.” You flush and look down, fiddling with your dress too embarrassed to move from your place in front of the mirror. Hes just being dramatic you think, he does not mean what he says, especially since he seems to be drinking. “You are too kind my prince.” “Call me Jace i beg of you.” “Would you truly beg me?” “I would get on my knees at your feet and do whatever you asked.” Your knees shake as you press your thighs together, the heat between you legs almost unbearable, a part of you wants to shoo him away so you can put your hand between your legs and take care of yourself or find some poor soul in the camp to relieve yourself with. You don’t, you cannot simply ask him to leave for such selfish reasons, especially since you know deep deep down that if you sought out somebody else you would only be thinking about him.
He seems to realize you don’t plan on saying anything so he begins to speak. “You know they were all talking about something.” You give him an interested look in the mirror and he takes another sip, “About what they were planning on doing after this fight is over. Do you have any thoughts? About what you plan to do?” You look up in thought, “I haven't given it much thought if im being honest.” He hums but says nothing. “Maybe i go off to the reach, it sounds very lovely.” “You would not stay in the keep?” You laugh at his idea and shake your head, “Why would i stay there? What would you miss me?” He says nothing and you don't look at him, instead continue talking, lost in your own imagination. “I would probably travel around for a bit, then find some lord to marry he fuck some babies into me and then i live the rest of my life-” You gasp as your suddenly pushed against the mirror being completely trapped by him, you hadn’t even registered the cup being thrown to the ground.
“My prince?” He flips you around suddenly and your eye to eye with him. His hands grip your waist and pull you directly against him. “You will not leave.” “I don't understand-” “You are not going anywhere you will stay by my side.” He has an animalistic look about him, like he's about to eat you whole, completely bewildered by the idea of you leaving. “I have no place in the keep.” “Your place is by my side.” His words have such a finality and certainty about them as if he's giving you no reason to argue with him. “You are to be married, This is highly inappropriate.” Your words are pushed out like puffs of air as his hands have moved up to your chest, rubbing your nipples through the fabric, you can feel him hardening between your legs. “I shall take you as a my second wife, no one will argue i will be king.” “You are being absurd.” “Do you desire me?”
You pull him into a heated kiss. He quickly reciprocates, his hands moving from your waist to under your night gown and he lets out a delighted hum at the liquid on your thighs. ‘Are you bare?” “I was planning on sleeping.” He moans lightly before he pauses before actually touching, “Do you want this?” you nod feverishly, “Please touch me please.” wasting no more time he runs his fingers along your folds, “This is for me right? and no some stupid pompous lord in the reach.” “yes yes.” You answer him but he doesn't seem to be listening, mumbling to himself in anger. “I hate the lords in the reach, always with each other heads in their asses no way you will marry any of them, let them put a baby in you.” He sticks two fingers inside you, “I wouldn’t i wouldn’t only you.” The pit in your lower stomach grows as you watch in shock him drop to his knees in front of you, his body being lost to your gown as he begins to lick and suck at your clit, his fingers moving quicker to pump in and out of you.
You cannot speak so much of his name. Using one of your hands to cover your mouth to not draw attention to yourself, the other plays with one of your tits, sliding it under your dress. He does not let up, even has you orgasm once then twice, only releasing you after the third time and you fall back, leaning against the mirror with wobbly legs as he keeps a tight grip on you holding you up as he stands. You can see the shine of your own essence on his lips and jaw, you swear you can even see some of it dripping down his neck into his collarbone.
He simply stands there and watches you fiddle around with his pants to free him for a few moments as he licks his lips. “You do not know how often i have thought about this.” You look up at him and give him a smile, “You think of me?” “Every minute of everyday, my waking thoughts and my dreams are only filled with you.”
Before you know it he is pushing into you with a hiss and you chuckle with a delighted moan at his closed eyes and clenched teeth. “First time?” “I may not have been your first but i will be your last.” Giving himself a second to get used to your pulsing warm walls that seem to be sucking him in every second he begins to move. Hes a little sloppy, clearly unsure and if anything a little unconfident about what he’s supposed to do. You place your head on his neck, making sure your lips are right next to his ear and you begin to move your hips to meet his, moaning in his ear only for him to hear.
He gains confidence after a few moments and soon enough you have no longer and need to meet him as he begins to pound into you diligently. Your fingers dig into the fabric of his tunic as the pit in your stomach grows once more. “please tell me your close.” You’re shocked he’s even managed to last this long but nod and he groans in delight. “Please peak please together.”
The mirror behind you is completely covered with a foggy mist just as your eyes are when you finally release. You pray as you catch your breath that you two were quiet enough because you would rather be dead than me made fun of by your friends for finally fucking the prince. But as you feel his seed running out your lips and down your thigh you decide maybe it was worth it.
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perm jacaerys taglist <3
@tyronesien @itsbookworm987 @cruelworldlana @smurfelle @ireneispunk @hxtd @venmondiese
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equinelifecountry · 3 days
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Drowning
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Warning: depression, suicidal thoughts and actions, anxiety. torcher, blood (If missed anything lmk) Description: realizing that she was never enough for him and deciding the world might just be better without her in it
part 2
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The clashing of metal singings throughout the top of the mountains being carried off with the wind. Sweat beads on my brow my labor breath is becoming louder by the passing minute I lift my sword again towards the right missing the target that was Infront of me the big Illyrian, the general of the powerful Night Court armies the smirk forming on his makes me want to slap it right off. "Oh, come on y/n I know you're better than that." he swiftly movies and swings his blade at me I dodged it just in time dropping down to the ground swing my legs and knocking him off his feet flat on his back I jumped up and just my foot on his chest with pressure and pointing the blade of my sword at his throat "Yes I know I am." I smirk matching his that claimed his face just moments ago.
It has been just over 3 years since the war against the King of Hybern I just shortly after the war was won so much has changed with my found family and with the new additions to the family the Archeron sister, bless the mother for bringing us Feyre bringing her to Rhysand. I am beyond happy that he has found his mate, his other half that makes him whole. I see from the beginning that day we went to their mansion to ask to host the mortal queens to talk that the tension with Cassian and Nesta was going to lead to something more those two were cut from the same cloth what more than the perfect match the Lord of Bloodshed and Lady Death herself. I can't forget about sweet Elain, the way that Azriel looked at her like she was the reason for him to breath and her deep brown eyes seem to lighten looking up at him, it was kind of cliche in a way the darkness and the lightness meets and blends so well together.
I remember when Azriel went into the middle of the enemies camp to rescue Elain even though he could of easily of been killed and that day before the last battle he gave her truth teller. I sat stood across the way putting on my leather and armor when I caught the seen unfold something cracked in my chest, since the day that Nesta and Elain was thrown into the cauldron Azriel always kept a close eye and helping hand to Elain, I could tell from the way he looked at her that it was much more than just being a good friend helping our High Lady's sister adjust to High Fae life he was falling for her, first it was Mor he was pinned over her for the longest time that never seen to bothered me to much. Mor confined in me about her love for other women so I knew nothing was ever going to help between her and Azriel but that still never eased the hurt I felt the way he looked and acted with her. I don't know why I thought there was ever going to be a chance of me and Azriel becoming something more all he sees is the poor broken female hung between those trees deep in the cold forest bleeding pouring form the wounds on her back forming a pool of blood under her feet.
I shook my head trying to shake the memories away grinning again I held out my hand to Cassian he reached up and I helped him back up on his feet. "oh its good to have you back y/n!" he slung and arm around my shoulders and we made our way back down the stairs towards the dinning room. "You never leave us like that again, got it?" I side eyed him "I just needed some space Cass." I signed "To many things happened during the war and everything else going on it was just to much mentally..." Cassian stopped and turned me to face him he had a worried look on his face "I know you do not like to talk about things much but I hope you know that you have me.. you have all of us if you need someone to talk to about thing.." he paused and put a hand on my forearm "I mean it." I just looked at him gave him a small smile and nodded he just did the same.
We walked in silence the rest of the way to the dining room has we walked through the doors a glanced up at the large table sat in the middle of the room there he was and so with everyone else, i mean everyone. Cassian made is way over to Nesta and planted a kiss on her forehead and sat down I stayed in the doorway just staring at everyone. "Come join us y/n." I shifted my eyes toward Rhysand who was looking at me with is smirk he always seems to wear. "It has been far too long since we had everyone for a family dinner." I swallowed hard and blinked everyone now was staring at me waiting for me to come and sit was them or just waiting for a reply. I avoided looking in the direction and the shadow singer and the lovely flower that stay by him I turned and locked my eyes with Rhys "I'm sorry but I think I'm going to have to pass tonight, I am just far too exhausted" he gave me a worried look the same has Cassian did in the hall I felt him trying to break through my mental walls I just shut him out and gave a weak smile and turned to head back up to my room feeling a heavy stare on my back that sent shivers running down my spine.
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toji-girl · 3 days
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For the event can I have ino + #7 age gap plzz (if I can add -> older reader + small tits ...have seen older fem reader with huge tits only 🥺🥺i got b cup perky tits 🙁) Thank u 🎀💝 i love u, miss-brand-of-pregnancy-fiction. -🌙
18+ only content - mdni
I LOVE LOVE LOVE TAKUMA PLEASE HE IS SO SWEET AND BABY BOY I WANNA KISS HIM ALL OVER!!!! also, I can try my best for the small tits because I am an F cup which sucks ass so much😭 ily too please your nicknames have me giggling, a few moots call me mommy minx so it makes sense lmaooo
tags: fem reader with small/perky tits + explicit smut + non-specified age gap but nothing too far apart
Ino didn't want to be rude, but he couldn't help it and let his eyes wander down to your bare tits when you opened your door in a tank top with no bra, the clear outline of your breasts and nipples made his question die on his tongue when he saw how pretty you were.
He knew you were older than him when he first saw you move in about a few weeks ago and of the one or two conversations he had with you, Ino just wasn't sure how much but it didn't matter to him.
"Is everything okay, honey?" You asked sweetly cocking your head as the sweet smell of brownies wafted from behind you making his mouth water, it was genuine worry that laced your voice too.
Standing this close to you he could see the smile lines framing your lips indicating you've laughed a lot and for a moment he hoped he could be the one to make you laugh and moan his name.
Your eyes had wrinkles as well and it was clear you were living a well-worn life, Ino was aware that he'd never been into women his age, older and more experienced women were more his type.
He nodded and looked into your apartment to see the pan on your counter indicating that's where the smell was coming from, but if Ino leaned in close enough you smelled like it too. "Yes ma'am, it is."
"Come inside, you're letting out all the cool air, and my brownies are about done. Want a slice? We haven't had a chance to talk much."
Your sweet invitation was all it took for Ino to step inside and slip his shoes off before he followed you into your kitchen. "I heard some shuffling last night and I didn't know if you were moving furniture around or something." Ino teased breaking the ice as he watched you.
His eyes scanned you up and down when you turned around unable to help himself, something about you pulled him in.
Little did he know just how right he was either.
You were moving your bed frame because last night after your masturbation session your best friend called and in a rush to decline the call your dildo rolled off the mattress and under the frame.
With two plates you sat down at the kitchen counter with Ino perched on the one next to you, your knees pressed together a bit. "So, tell me about yourself Ino." You told him with a soft smile.
Ino thought you smelled like cocoa and he ached to take a bite and have a taste for himself. "I'm twenty-one and I work as a teacher's assistant down at the local college with my mentor Kento Nanami."
It was clear that Ino looked up to the man he spoke about as you learned more information from him, where he grew up and went to school then he wanted to know everything about you.
Well, not everything but he wanted to know what made you, you.
"These are delicious, you're wonderful at baking." He complimented you with a soft smile as he finished his plate before standing up to clean his mess up and returning to his seat again.
His knee rested against yours once more as you slowly nibbled on your brownie. "Thank you, you're very sweet. I'm making a strawberry poundcake tomorrow night if you want a piece." You murmured softly looking at him and noting how he absorbed your meaning with a grin.
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Twenty-four hours later Ino found himself seated at your kitchen counter again, this time the sweet fruity smell of strawberries wafted from you making his mouth water again when you got closer.
If your desserts were anything like you then Ino knew he would become addicted to your pussy.
He wasn't sure what it was about you that made his cock hard just thinking about you.
Tonight you wore a similar tank top but this one was a bit looser so he could see the side view of your perky tits, they would fit perfectly in his palms and he wanted nothing more than to suckle on your nipple.
Preferably with whipped cream on each bud.
His mind was working overtime and the air felt like it was sucked from the room when you got closer to him and then your fingertips brushed along his arm, it was clear you knew what you were doing.
You wanted Ino.
Ino wanted you.
After the plates were cleaned you and Ino settled on your couch each with a glass of wine that was left undrunk on your coffee table as you both began another conversation as you sat in his lap.
His lips followed the curve of your shoulder as you faced away from him talking about your day at work as his hands cupped and squeezed your breasts in his hands. "Your skin is so soft and so pretty and smooth." Ino whispered in your ear as his hands trailed further.
He parted your legs more to stroke your pantie-cladded pussy making sure to miss your clit on purpose to hear you whine his name in his ear with a needy glaze over your eyes as you pouted as well.
"It's not very nice to tease." You told him with an airy laugh followed by a moan when his hand slid in your shorts and panties to feel how wet and sticky you got for him, your pussy felt pussy and sensitive.
Ino shrugged with a chuckle and kissed your neck as you ground down on his bulge that ached the more you let out those sweet sounds and he couldn't take it any longer.
Using his strength he had you flat on your back in less than two seconds as you stared up at the ceiling until he came into your view with a goofy grin. "I'm going to rock your world." He said eagerly and kissed you deeply letting his tongue stroke against yours slowly.
He made a path of kisses down your jaw and neck and the valley between your breasts, but Ino was sure to lavish each one in attention and love until you were all but pushing his head down.
Ino wanted to tease you, keep you on the edge until you all but begged him to give you some type of relief, when he kissed your pussy so sweetly and tenderly you almost cried.
His hands slid under your thighs and around them keeping you still as he licked each trace and contours of your wet pussy that Ino quickly grew drunk on, and he was right. You taste divine.
Usually, he'd want to tell you that but right now all he could do was eat you out like it was a competition and he was going for first place. Each time you tugged on his hair his hips rolled against the couch.
Ino moaned against your cunt as his hands slid from your thighs to your pussylips spreading you wider in a gentle way to play with your clit that throbbed sending tingles all over when he hit a certain spot.
His name became a chant that you couldn't stop from pouring from your mouth as you rode his tongue chasing your high as Ino slurped your soul from your pussy it felt like it and from his tongue too.
"How do you feel?" Ino asked when he moved to sit up and help you settle into his lap again as he stroked your hair letting you curl up.
All you could do was nod and try to catch your breath knowing this wasn't the last time you were going to have him.
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bullet-prooflove · 2 days
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Coy: Dean Archer x Reader
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Tagging: @kmc1989 @helsinkibaby @hufflepuffgirl @mimi-8793
Releasing early as a birthday gift to my babe @mandy426
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Dean found out his wife was cheating on him when he discovered he had syphilis during a routine medical check. He tells you that after you've been trapped in an elevator together for over three hours. He’d exhausted all of the small talk options after the first two so now the you’re digging into the real stuff, the stuff you don’t even tell your best friend because you’re terrified they’ll murder someone on your behalf.
You’d already disclosed how you found your husband fucking another woman on a sheepskin rug in the cabin you owned together. So it was his turn and well that’s apparently that’s the secret he chose to disclose.
“It’s gone now though right?” You say gesturing towards the lower half of his scrubs and he gives you an offended look. “You’re not just walking around sowing your wild oats…”
“One, that would be horribly irresponsible if I didn’t get treated and secondly I do not ‘sow my wild oats’.” He says making bunny ears with his fingers.
“I just assumed, an intelligent, attractive man like yourself would have a busy social calendar.” You say, tucking a stray strand of hair back behind your ear.
“Yea, Netflix and medical journals.” He responds before backtracking. “Wait you think I’m attractive?”
“Dean, don’t be coy.” You say, kicking him lightly in the knee with your shoe.
“I’m not.” He tells you, his cheeks colouring as he tilts his head back towards the ceiling and closes his eyes. “I can’t remember the last time someone told me they found me attractive. It’s usually grumpy, egotistical…”
He laughs before he tips his head towards you, his eyes meeting yours.
“I’m not selling myself am I?”
“Do you feel like you need to?” You ask him and he frowns before he shakes his head.
“No I…” He trails off before he looks at you a little differently. “I’ve never felt like that with you, it doesn’t feel like trying. Hell I’ve just told you I’ve had syphilis so I think we can discern I feel pretty damn comfortable around you.”
“Yea.” You say with a sigh, tucking your hands into your pockets. “Comfortable.”
“I’ve said something wrong.” He says quietly. “I didn’t mean…”
“No.” You say softly, shrugging your shoulders. “It’s just, I’m not the girl that gets the guy. I’m the weird one that cuts up bodies in the morgue.”
“You do a valuable job, we learn things from that, people get closure.” You give him a look and he realises he’s doing it again, saying the wrong thing. “I’m not explaining myself well.”
“No you are.” You say with a smile that doesn’t meet your eyes. “I understand perfectly.”
Silence falls between the two of you and now it’s his turn to sigh because he’s never been good at communicating, not when it comes to the important stuff. Up until three hours ago you were just a colleague, the woman he had a thing for. And now…
“I’ve always thought you were beautiful.” He tells you because you took a risk and now it’s his turn. “And it has been intimidating actually, because you’re also smart and funny. The perfect package.”
“You don’t have to say that.”
He can tell you don’t believe him, why would you? You’re ex-husband spent years lying to about his affairs. He knows how that feels, how it erodes at your self-worth. He also knows that sometimes actions speak louder than words.  
“I mean it.” He tells you, his fingertips tilting up your chin so that he can look into your eyes. “I never thought I had a shot with you.”
“We’re idiots aren’t we?” You say softly as his thumb traces over the apple of your cheek.
“We are trapped in an elevator.” He agrees, his nose trailing along the length of yours. “And I’m terrified what other secrets I may end up spilling if we stay in here any longer.”
“You wanna do something other than talk?” You ask him and he smiles against the corner of your mouth.
“Yea.” He whispers, his lips brushing over yours. “I think I would.”
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triptych-of-voids · 2 days
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hey dove! I’m curious, you’re low empathy autistic right? I’m really curious about the details of that. What are some differences you’ve noticed between yourself and others? Do you deal with a lot of communication issues with others? (Irl or online) Are there any behaviors that others do that feel silly to you in relation to empathy? Genuinely curious :3
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correct!! hm,,
sometimes i dont notice the differences in my behavior unless they are mentioned to me but there have been several occasions where a friend has been sad/happy/mad about something, and i am never sad or happy or mad about whatever that something is. dont even get me started on when people start crying around me, i have to resort to logic first because reacting with emotion just seems so disingenuous. i cant bring myself to feel what they are feeling or care about why they are feeling it unless it directly affects me. that doesnt mean i dont care about my friends though! even if i dont feel what they are feeling i do care about Them! i just struggle with the 'putting myself in their shoes' part of it. this does lead to some communication issues, if only because i am on some completely different wavelength than everyone else. it also tends to create situations where i attempt to show that i care about someone but i do it Wrong. we would be here all day i think if i attempted to list every example where i misinterpret, misreact to, or even altogether miss how other people are feeling and reacting to situations and/or where i try to connect with someone through what are apparently extremely bizarre means.
in terms of behaviors that i find silly.. well, the first thing that comes to mind is things like crying at movies and yelling at televised sports.. i often wonder if people are putting on some sort of show for the sake of people around them, but apparently people will weep at a tv show or yell at a referee on the screen in full sincerity, which is something i find interesting at best, annoying and ridiculous at worst. but i digress
i think this post here puts most of my experiences with having low empathy into words pretty well!!
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babygirl-diaz · 3 days
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helllooooo i saw that omega tommy anon and 👀 imagine alpha!buck looking for his "missing" lafd hoodie and discovering that omega!tommy used it to make a nest at his place jdjdksnxv
Okay, this is literally the cutest prompt ever and I absolutely love it. Hope you like the story, anon!
***
"Hey, have you seen my hoodie?" Buck asked browsing through his locker.
"No? Why would I see your hoodie?" Eddie asked closing his own locker. "Besides, what do you even need a hoodie for? It's like 75 outside."
"I don't know," Buck shrugged. "It's my comfort hoodie and I need a bit of comfort right now."
"Comfort? Why? What happened?" Eddie asked taking a seat on the bench and leaving space for Buck.
"So you know how I've been trying to court Tommy?" Buck asked shyly and scratched the back of his head.
"Yeah, I think everyone knows that, Buck," Eddie replied, giving him a pointed look and a smirk played on the edge of his lips.
"Wait what? What do you mean everyone knows that?" Buck asked horrified.
"That's not the point," Eddie replied. "Why are you upset?"
Buck let out a deep breath. "it's just not working. Either Tommy is playing hard to get or he is genuinely not interested and I am afraid it's the latter."
"I doubt that," Eddie replied. "Look, us omegas- we- we like it when the alpha puts in the effort and chases after us. The courting phase is the best part."
"Did uh- Did Shannon court you? You don't have to answer that if you're not comfortable!" Buck quickly added to let Eddie know it was a no-pressure question.
"She did, yeah," Eddie replied sadly. "But we were kids so it didn't take her a lot to court me."
"What you're saying is that I have to put in more effort?" Buck asked.
"That's exactly what I'm saying," Eddie replied and put a hand on his shoulder. "Just show him you can be trusted to stick around and be there for him. Make him feel protected and loved."
Buck got up and smiled at his best friend. "Thanks, Eddie. Listen, I hope you find your alpha too."
"Thanks, Buck, but I'm not looking," Eddie replied with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I am happy as I am."
Buck nodded and took out his phone. "Tommy hasn't messaged me today. Do you think I should check on him?"
Eddie chuckled and shook his head. "You just wanna see him."
"I do," Buck replied shyly. "I really do." He then cleared his throat as he added, "Well, I'll see you tomorrow. Bye, Eddie!"
With that, he practically ran out of the firehouse and got into his Jeep. He texted Tommy again but got no response. His worry only increased and he headed towards the omega's house. When he got there, he rang the doorbell and waited.
Tommy didn't answer, and that's when Buck started to panic. Tommy's truck was still in the driveway, so he was at home and hurt or he was kidnapped. There was no other explanation. Well, there was. There was also the possibility that Tommy didn't want to see him but Buck wasn't ready to entertain that thought.
Buck called Tommy while still standing outside his house and he answered the second time.
"Evan?" Tommy sounded a little annoyed.
"Where are you?" Buck asked. "I am standing outside your house, ringing the doorbell, but you won't answer."
"I was asleep," Tommy replied and paused for a second before saying, "I'll be right there."
Buck impatiently tapped his foot as he waited for Tommy and soon the door opened. Tommy looked like he had gone through a couple rounds with an alligator and lost. Okay, so maybe not the best analogy but he just looked worse for wear. Not that Buck was about to tell him that. He was trying to court the guy, not chase him away.
"What?" Tommy asked, pulling his robe even closer to himself.
"Nothing," Buck shook his head. "Sorry- I just- I was worried about you. Are you okay?"
Tommy shrugged. "I guess."
There was something in the air. Some kinda sweet smell that followed Tommy. That coupled with how tired he looked, Buck understood what was going on. "You're in pre-heat."
"I am," Tommy replied after a pause. "And I'd rather not prematurely go into an actual heat with your presence."
"You think I could send you into a heat?" Buck couldn't help but smirk at that.
"Any alpha could," Tommy was quick to shoot him down, which made Buck pout.
"Can I come in?" Buck asked.
Tommy didn't move at first. It looked like he was contemplating. "Fine, but I'm going back to my nest."
"Are you inviting me into your nest?" Buck teased. "I am honored."
Tommy gave him an unamused look. "No, Evan, I am not inviting you into my nest, but you can hang out outside of it."
Buck followed Tommy into the house, feeling a thrum of excitement running through his veins. He might not have been invited into Tommy's nest but he was invited to his nest adjacent, which was good enough.
When they got to Tommy's room, Buck was immediately taken aback. There was his hoodie in the middle of the bed, along with one of his coats.
"H- how did you get my hoodie and coat?" Buck asked confused.
"Hmmm?" Tommy hummed as he got into the bed and pulled the hoodie close to himself. "You gave me the coat the other day when I was cold," he reminded him. "And the hoodie..." A small smile played across his lips as he added, "...I had Eddie steal it for me."
"No way," Buck chuckled. "That little shit. He looked me right in the face and said he didn't know where my hoodie was." He shook his head and then got closer to the bed but stayed out of it. "Why do you have these?"
"Because," Tommy shrugged and looked down at the hoodie. "Do you want them back?"
"No!" Buck quickly told him. "If it provides you comfort then- then you should keep it."
Tommy smiled and nodded. "Thank you. I hope this isn't too weird."
"No, if anything, I like it," Buck assured him. He scratched the back of his head as he said, "If you want- only if you want- you can cuddle with me instead of the hoodie?"
Tommy looked surprised, but his blue eyes lit up. He dug his teeth into his bottom lip as he watched Buck. "Okay," he replied finally, and scooted on the bed, making space for Buck.
Buck knew exactly what this meant, but he refused to say it because he didn't want to spook Tommy.
Tommy turned around and lay down, leaving space for Buck
"Is this okay?" Buck asked as he got behind and wrapped his arm around him.
"More than okay," Tommy replied. "And Evan?"
"Yeah?" Buck asked
There was another pause before Tommy said, "Thank you."
"Anytime, Tommy," Buck replied and buried his face in the juncture between Tommy's neck and shoulder. "Go to sleep. I'll be right here when you wake up." He promised.
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dykedvonte · 3 days
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I am making grabby hands and begging for more of your lovely Benny HC’s pleeeeease
Okie Dokie!!! Kinda long so under the cut it is
Benny is baby-faced and mid-20s. I like the idea he was so roped into House's offer because he was and still is kinda young and impressionable. His lobes aren't fully cooked yet and it shows.
Short and just now getting stout. Being a wastelander means you stay kinda lean and now he takes a lot of opportunities to fill out and look bigger.
Weirdly naive. He can spot a lie/lair from a mile away but if you somehow can charm your way past that intuition he's all too trusting with you on personal matters. All boot riders are like this actually as they rarely are wary of someone considered their own.
Moves like a lizard, very still one moment and then fast/jittery the next. He's not very predictable outside of being a backstabber.
A hand talker who can't keep still or quiet for long. Gets bored easily which is why he never was the casino desk man.
Was just called Gecko before but mainly for his eyes and not the aforementioned behavior. Very cold and sharp like a Mojave golden Gecko but also pretty.
All his smiles are practiced. There's a certain menace his natural smile has, too many teeth, too big, too wild, too mocking. Kinda like a dog barring his teeth and combined with his eyes it's rather intimidating. All the fake smiles are coy and rather closed lip.
Doesn't like using guns but it gives him an edge. Likes to get in close and feel like he's earned the kill during a fight but he's got an image now...
Not religious and doesn't get organized religion. Part of House's doing as House of course would explain it as something superfluous but Benny's own opinions are more "If a god was real why would he make life suck this much ass"
Maria means nothing to him but is part of his image. Following the point below, what he got from House is like a uniform for him, even if he doesn't want to go back to it, it is physically comforting.
Got to choose his name from a list House gave him. Chairmen had the most things altered about them. Treats his name like a title more than anything, interestingly enough.
If he ever defected he would join the followers. They share a lot of viewpoints and he'd act as a spokesman vs anything else. He is a likable guy, just not a guy you can get close to while keeping a "likable" opinion of him.
Doesn't sleep that much. Not much to do with the plans he has but he is a wastelander at heart. The city while secure isn't what he's fully used to still and the lights/sounds keep him up
Emotionally repressed and doesn't know it. Has a hard time actually connecting with most people cause he struggles with determining if a relationship is serious. People are friends or FWB and little else cause it's never been important to his or the Chairmens' prosperity.
Follows Boot-Rider customs discreetly and says Chairmen shit for show. A lot of the family would tell you a big reason Boot-Rider traditions aren't gone is that he won't let them die even if they gotta be silent about them.
He's eerily people smart. Intelligence is subjective here as he's not book smart but he gets people he knows what they want to hear even if he doesn't genuinely believe it. The comic knows he pays attention to what makes people vulnerable and he's like idk FNV Heather Chandler. Not introspective at all though.
My last point for now is: Violent. Maybe a better word is intense but he lacks inhibition and temperament control in a lot of aspects. If he's forced a direction he kinda just runs wild even if he was taking it slow before. He has hard opinions and makes plans with a sense of finality to them and doesn't act until that's achievable. Like I'm sorry but he gets mean at you and whatever he say to Yes-Man about the khans must be crazy with how YM talks about them. He is so willing to get his hands dirty, I can imagine he misses being able to get messy.
This is not organized at all but these are major ways I see Benny. He's like borderline an oxymoron who avoids it by small margins. Everything about him can be explained even though we don't get a lot of personal info about him, we know his habits. He's a guy who has such a detailed facade you can't tell what his actual face is most of the time and when he does show it, it's only in very specific and wild scenarios it can be hard to say it's how he'd really be. I'll just say the opening of the comic with him fluctuating from motionlessly looking at Vegas, to calmly talking to Swank, to rage and settling on something almost like commercial charm when talking about murdering what is basically a family member is just so indicative of what Benny is and how I tend to characterize him in my head.
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Hello may 31th anon! Look at that, another year behind us and a new one to come. Have a nice day! ₍՞◌′ᵕ‵ू◌₎♡
#may 31th anon#hello friends!! (。’▽’。)♡ how are you!! I missed you so much!#I'm sorry that once again i have not been posting but I did that thing again where I got scared of posting#I do not know why but it is the same with physical paper diarys#I have 3 diarys and they all have 1 entry#I think one just says 'I am ten'#what have you been up to!! did you do something fun? is it summer too where you live? c:#my tumblr messages seem to be broken! I'm sorry if you wrote something :C it just says 'no new messages' despite also saying new messages#not a lot has happened here! I got a tomato plant and then I got very invested into the tomato plant and I have eaten three tomatos so far (#my roses are also doing well!! I just got a new yellow rose and since she got here she only made orange flowers#I do not know the meaning of that#but I am very thankful! ( ˊᵕˋ )♡ I love it when things are orange!!#I've been trying to buy an orange shirt for the past 2 weeks but they always sell out before I get to them#I'm also thinking about buying a jean jacket#I have not worn a jean jacket for at least 15 years because one time in 7th grade  tthe girl behind me said#that I was wearing a cool jean jacket and I just assumed that this was bullying for no actual reason#but maybe she just thought that it was an acutal cool jean jacket#we'll soon have out 10 year school reunion#maybe I should ask her#is anyone else going to a secret Sherlock phase again#I just want to see that silly little hat again#would sherlock holmes wear a jean jacket#have a nice day everyone!!#see you soon hopefully!!#♡^▽^♡
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jtl-fics · 11 months
Text
Fluent Freshman - Part 22
PREVIOUS
Y’know how sometimes you have something that you need to do or something that you know is going to happen but you just keep…putting it off? Like you know at some point it is going to happen but you put it off over and over and over and over again? You’re getting increasingly anxious every time you put it off because you know it has to get done but you also know that the longer you wait the worse it is going to get. Finally, FINALLY, the anxiety is just a little too much and you end up having to deal with it.
You finally deal with it and the whole ordeal takes maybe five minutes tops and it was in no way shape or form worth the level of anxiety that you put yourself through. Like you worried about this for a good and long while and it wasn’t even that bad?
That is currently how FF feels about being stabbed by Andrew Minyard.
This is what he was so worried about that he had lost sleep, had nightmares, had lost weight, and had exacerbated his stress ulcers over.
Getting stabbed wasn’t anywhere near as bad as he had thought it was going to be. Maybe it was the fact that it was just a single stab wound instead of the Psycho levels that he had been imagining (Wow, showers were going to be so much less stressful now that he didn’t have to confirm Andrew Minyard’s location before triple checking the lock). Maybe it was the fact that he is PUMPED full of adrenaline from his fights against Jackson and Romero but the stab wound didn’t even really hurt at the moment.
This isn’t even the worse thing that had happened to him this year!
That honor still goes to the joint winners of when his Step Family and mother found out that he had a full-ride to Palmetto and when he had tripped up the same step on the stairs at school three times in a row as people watched and laughed.
(Maybe also the solitary congratulations from his Grandma in regards to his graduation but FF doesn’t let himself think about that, won’t think about it.)
He wouldn’t necessarily call being in a state of ‘stabbed’ a pleasant time but Andrew was being so NICE about it.
“Stop trying to sit up you fucking idiot!” Andrew shouts at him.
Well….Andrew’s version of nice.
(This is the same version of nice that he had misunderstood for months at this point. Maybe FF is just enough in shock from the stab wound in his stomach that he’s starting to grasp the basics in the difficult language of Andrew Minyard’s niceness.)
Andrew had gotten off the phone with 911 and then started pulling off his own jacket before draping it over FF’s upper body, wedging his phone between his shoulder and his ear, and then Andrew started to apply pressure to his stomach wound.
Ow.
That is not a great feeling. This stabbing may eke out past the great triple trip of March 2010.
“No, take back your jacket. You’ll get cold if you don’t have it on.” FF argues because his own jacket is barely doing the job. Maybe it’s the cold pavement of the alley, maybe it’s the blood loss, or maybe it’s the cooling sweat he’d worked up but he is shivering pretty badly.
A thought occurs to him as he feels the weird wet stickiness of his own blood sticking to Nicky’s shirt. “Can you help me get my jacket off?” He asks looking pleadingly at Andrew, “It’s my dad’s. I don’t wanna mess it up with my blood.” He clarifies when Andrew looks at him like he’s a lunatic.
Except his second call must connect right then because Andrew’s answer is non-sensical to what FF had asked, “Neil, let Roland know the police and ambulances are en route.” There’s a brief pause and the pressure against his stomach increases as a muscle in Andrew’s jaw jumps. “Smith got stabbed.” He says and he looks angry, angrier than FF had ever seen Andrew when he’s talking to Captain Neil. There is another pause, more than likely Neil saying something or asking a question, “No, it wasn’t them.” Andrew grits out and the pressure on FF’s stomach hurts, “Just get out here, I need help with smith and making sure these two assholes don’t go anywhere before the police come and grab them.” He says before he pulls one hand away from Smith’s stomach (wow he really is bleeding isn’t he?) to hang up the phone.
Andrew’s gaze turns back to him fully, “You’re not moving an inch Smith, your jacket can be cleaned.” He hisses. “Now stay still and don’t fall asleep.” He orders.
Andrew seems stressed so FF complies. He can’t help but notice how Andrew’s hands seem to be shaking as the press down on his stomach. He kind of wishes he had a pillow or something for his head because he’s starting to feel a little dizzy. Andrew’s jacket would be safer from his blood if it was a pillow instead of a blanket. Still, FF would sooner die than spit on any of Andrew’s current efforts to make him more comfortable.
He looks at the knife sticking out of his stomach. Well, he might die regardless of whether or not he spits on Andrew’s efforts.
He needs to take his mind off this.
“Should we take it out and pretend the Dundee knife stabbed me instead??” FF asks letting his mind go to the first thought in his head so that he could be distracted from his own mortality. “I think it’s still under the dumpster over there.” He moves to point one of his hands towards where the knife had remained throughout this entire ordeal.
Andrew’s knee pinned his arm before he could move it, “Stop moving Smith.” Andrew reminded him before moving his knee. “We have to leave the knife in. You’ll bleed to death otherwise.” Andrew reminds.
“I guess that’s true, so do we just say that Romero got a handle on your knife and stabbed me?” He asks fighting his own shivers since he’s a little worried that any shaking on his part would just make the stab wound worse.
“I stabbed you Smith.” Andrew says looking at him with a furrowed brow.
“Yeah, I know,” FF agrees, “but we’re not going to say THAT to the cops.” He says and shock really is one HELL of a drug because he thinks he might have actually given Andrew Minyard an incredulous look with his atrophied face muscles. It’s either Shock or the knowledge that even if he irritates Andrew, what’s Andrew going to do about it?
STAB HIM?
“You’re going to lie to the cops?” Andrew asks, “I STABBED you Smith.” Andrew repeats.
“Yeah, I know!” FF repeats back, “You stabbed me on ACCIDENT.” FF makes sure to use the same intonation that Andrew had used to emphasize the word Stabbed. “Jackson wanted to stab me on PURPOSE. You saw that knife Andrew.” He tries to gesture towards the knife again but again Andrew’s knee pinned his hand.
He could use his other one but the reminder to stay still is enough.
“I still stabbed you.” Andrew says removing his knee again when it’s clear that FF wasn’t going to try and gesture again.
“Well, if I was going to get stabbed by anyone, I guess I’m glad my first time was with you.” Andrew let’s out a bark of a laugh that sounds more like it was punched out of him than anything, “Honestly, I don’t think Jackson would have given me his jacket afterwards or try and help me keep my blood in my body.” He says and it feels like a victory (not a both hands in the air victory cry level victory but it was close) when Andrew’s face settled into one of faint amusement.
“Probably not.” Andrew agreed, “He doesn’t seem big on Aftercare.” He says.
FF doesn’t know what that means but nods like he does, “So, Romero got a hold of your knife during our tussle and he’s the one who stabbed me. Okay? That’s the story I’m going to stick with no matter who asks me.” He looks Andrew in the eye.
“Alright Smith,” one of Andrew’s hands leaves his stomach and clasps around his shoulder and FF can’t help but notice how neither of Andrew’s hands are shaking anymore. “We can lie to the police.” He squeezes FF’s shoulder.
“Nice.” He says and lets his head fall back onto the concrete. He hears a siren in the distance and hopes it’s coming for him.
They sit in silence for maybe 30 seconds before the door slams open and only Andrew’s hands on his stomach and shoulder keep him from shooting straight up in a panic. Captain Neil seemed to take in the scene at lightning speed but it was Andrew who spoke first, “You left Aaron and Nicky with Roland?” He asks.
“Yeah I did,” Captain Neil confirms and FF can see the moment that his eyes land on the knife handle jutting out of FF’s stomach, “Andrew, what are we going to tell the police?” Captain Neil asks and FF could already see Neil crafting a lie to cover Andrew. That’s one of the things that FF likes about Captain Neil and Andrew’s relationship. He thinks it’s nice that both of them have someone who no matter the circumstances would be there with a shovel to help bury a body. He even thought it was nice when he thought it’d be his body!
“The second guy stabbed me.” The lie comes out smoothly which is good because he is planning on committing to it and Captain Neil blinks and looks at him, “He got hold of Andrew’s knife during the tussle.” He adds.
Captain Neil looks to Andrew, “You said it wasn’t-“
“I guess Smith can lie to a liar.” Andrew interrupts.
Captain Neil’s eyes widen before a wicked grin spread across his face that made FF just a little uncomfortable but only because Andrew’s grip on his shoulder suddenly tightened and his nostrils flared the way they did before the two usually started speaking in Russian.
He can handle being stabbed, he cannot handle being in shock and pretending that he doesn’t know what the two of them are saying to one another.
“Can you tell Nicky I’m sorry I got blood on his clothes?” He asks and both Captain Neil and Andrew’s gaze snap away from eye-fucking each other. He looks down and the clothes are black and they haven’t moved the knife so the wound is plugged still but yeah there’s definitely blood seeping into the shirt, not to mention the hole. “Could you tell him I’m sorry about that?” He asks.
“You are going to tell him yourself Smith.” Andrew hisses, “You are going to be fine. Do you understand me?” He asks before turning to Neil, “Can you bunch your jacket under his legs, it’s better to keep them higher than his head and heart?” He asks.
Aw.
Andrew is just so nice.
He can’t BELIEVE he thought Andrew wanted to hunt him for sport.
He’d apologize for thinking that but he thinks it’d be better to just let that particular misunderstanding go unmentioned.
Captain Neil bunches his jacket up and puts it under FF’s legs before he goes over to check on Romero and Jackson. In the corner of his eye he sees Captain Neil pause at the sight of Romero before moving over to Jackson.
“Why is he in these?!” Neil asks baffled.
“It’s a weird sex alley Captain Neil! I don’t know WHAT to tell you!” Yeah he’s definitely going into shock. The sirens are getting closer though so he’ll probably be okay.
***
The cops all have a bit of a laugh about Jackson’s cuffs until Neil tells them exactly who they are taking into custody. Neil could admit that he’s a little irritated with Andrew that at no point did the man clarify that the people who FF and Andrew were dealing with were Romero and Jackson.
Those are his father’s goons.
“They were here for me.” Neil says to the police officer and Andrew’s hand tightens in his, “They tried to take Smith because he’s my friend.”
They had decided on their story before the cops came. FF had no idea who any of these people were and was just defending himself. He’d gone out to catch his breath in the alley when Jackson had shown up. Neil had asked how in the world FF had handled Jackson on his own but FF must have been getting kind of loopy from blood loss because all he said was, “He told me to sing so I did.”
Neil can find out the full story later.
The important part is.
“Jackson went after Smith but Smith won the fight.” Neil says looking at where the cops are trying to decide how to get the fuzzy pink handcuffs off of Jackson to get him in the far more secure police issued handcuffs.
“Your friend said that you and he took out Romero together. That Romero is the one who stabbed him with your knife.” He says.
“Yes.” Andrew answers simply and Neil squeezes his hand as a reminder, “I went out to grab a smoke and Romero followed after me. Romero got hold of one of my knives in the struggle and stabbed Smith.” Andrew says with his usual deadpan affect.
“Yeah that’s what your friend Smith was saying too.” The officer says. “Well, I’m sure the FBI will want to talk to you all further but for now it’s a pretty clear cut case of self defense and no one but your friend has any serious injuries.” The officer pats Neil on the shoulder and Neil manages not to shirk away from the touch. The officer retracts his hand, “You guys are free to go tonight.” He says and turns back towards the car where a dazed Romero is in the back seat.
“Where did they take Smith?” Andrew asks since they’d been shepherded away from Smith the moment the ambulance had come. They hadn’t been able to ask which hospital Smith was going to be taken to so they could go and get updates.
“Lexington.” The cop answers, “Go on and see your friend. He seemed pretty loopy he kept talking about some beauty contest thing when he was getting loaded into the ambulance. I’m sure he’ll be a riot on painkillers.” The cop goes for a joke but it twists something in Neil’s stomach to think of FF so out of it that he’s talking nonsensically.
He feels Andrew’s hand stiffen in his and knows he’s not alone.
“Thanks.” Neil says before they head towards the front of the club. The club had been emptied out when the cops had come so Roland was babysitting Aaron and Nicky for them while they talked to the cops and FF was loaded out to the hospital.
In a way it’s almost a blessing that Nicky and Aaron are both so blasted that they aren’t comprehending any of what’s going on. They’ll have to drop them off back at the house before they go to the hospital. They’ll beat Wymack there easily even after the interrogation and drop off.
FF had asked them to call Wymack to let him know what was going on “I gave him the rights to make health care decisions for me if I’m incapacitated.” FF had said so Neil texts Wymack the hospital and the address after Andrew rattles it off for him.
“I don’t like that you hid it from me.” Neil says in the car.
“They wanted to kill you.” Andrew won’t apologize.
They still hold hands on the drive back to the Columbia house.
Andrew takes care of getting Aaron into bed while Neil helps Nicky.
Nicky who looks at Neil with a loopy smile and Neil hurts knowing that tomorrow when Nicky finds out about tonight and how he was too blasted to do anything to help FF.
Andrew and Neil reconvene in the Maserati and make their way to the hospital before either of them realize the issue.
“What is the name of the patient you’re looking for an update on?” The receptionist asks.
Both Andrew and Neil freeze.
Fuck.
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MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU
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The requests to be added to the tag list keep being spread out across a few different areas. If I missed you please just ask again in the replies I promise I just missed you.
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madamescarlette · 1 year
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don't you love when you're like, okay now I'm going to leave this sorrow in the old year so I don't turn into a crotchety bitter person over it, and then you walk on feeling all refreshed and bright no longer carrying it on your shoulders, but then the sorrow wanders after you like a child who was lost in the supermarket weeping its eyes out and it says to you where did you GO I was lost! I was lost and I missed you!!! and you can only sigh and take it by its hand and say to it very well. here's your seat. I'm sorry I left you behind, I promise it was with the best of intentions, but I want to do my best by you, so let's sit together and try to figure out what you're saying to me.
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em0-opossum · 11 months
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sick of people acting like being alone/lonely = being single. ofc you're allowed to feel like that, I'm aro and could not care less that I don't have a partner so I have no idea what it feels like to have that experience, but god just once I'd like to find poetry and art made by people who know how it feels to have no friends and feel lonely no matter how many people are around you and know that you don't belong no matter where you are
#I'm lucky enough to have two good friends right now who i love very much#but that doesn't mean that they understand how i feel or how i have felt#and knowing you're alone in that overbearing loneliness just alienates you more and further perpetuates the feeling#i still miss out on so many opportunities to be friends with people i genuinely want to be friends with so bad because i can't talk to them#i still get so paranoid sometimes and stop replying to anyone because I'm convinced they hate me and there's something wrong with me#sometimes to the point where i avoid teachers who i need to talk to because i am sure that everything i say will be wrong#even someone being nice can feel awful because i think that they just feel bad or are pretending and actually trying to make fun of me#i know nobody actually knows who i am or how i feel because i hide everything to fit in with people and what they need/want#i have never felt like i belong anywhere and trying to explain that to people is so hard#there are times i love being alone but knowing that I've missed out on every regular human experience is so isolating#i just want to be normal and have friends i love and hang out with and talk to and not feel like every word i say could be the end of me#and when i try to find anybody who relates all i get is “oh im alone again :(( being single is awful”#i really do empathize with those people but it is nothing like my experience of loneliness#(tags are just for finding people who relate)#social anxiety#avpd#avoidant personality disorder#actuallyavpd#loneliness#chronic loneliness
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How to explain that going to church makes me hurt and angry, but not going to church makes me sad and depressed.
#I need to go to Mass. I need to get over the anxiety mental block and just go.#blue chatter#it’s just. I’ve only gone a couple times this semester and every time has left me feeling more empty and hurt than when I walked in#and I know Mass is more than just how you feel. and that it matters that I am there where God calls me to be#I know.#I wish nobody there knew me so they wouldn’t be so worried and ask questions about where I’ve been#it’s like. I cannot possibly explain to my church friends why I haven’t been showing up.#it’s not even scrupulosity anymore it’s just. I can’t be here. I don’t belong here.#and the new priest is trying *so hard*. I’ve been honest with him about how I’m struggling.#but it’s just. there’s something missing. he wants to include the congregation but fundamentally doesn’t understand what that means.#‘everyone is welcome. No I will not make an effort to include marginalized people. they’re welcome bc they can Walk In The Door.’#and I know it’s not that the church has changed#if anything I’d be having the same issues with the old priest. I’m the one who’s changed.#but instead of spending my Sundays with God I’m just. melting into a puddle of Sad. and that’s not good for my faith life.#I need to do *something*. I just. any time I think of trying a new church i feel exhausted.#God please help me.#I don’t know where to go from here. I don’t want to be alone and miserable and losing touch with my faith
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darehearts · 8 months
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EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU READING THIS IS AWESOME AS FUCK
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arthur-r · 14 days
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what’s really embarrassing is my roommate on the phone with his mom saying “yeah i’ve been getting really sloppy i haven’t cleaned in a week it’s terrible” and my side of the room is just like that. all of the time. and i feel guilty but he also hasn’t ever said anything to my face he moved my stuff some at the beginning of the year but has never talked to me about it and i’m also so fucking ill that i just cant really handle adding that to my list while trying to also not fail school. so here i am being a terrible person i guess. did i tell you guys about turtle-person. have i showed my bracelets. i’m gonna go to sleep but in the morning i need to show my bracelets
#help i have work tomorrow. i also feel sick and strange. wish me luck#the sun was around today which was incredible but also i think it gave me too much mental energy#cause for the first time in forever i had the brightness of spirit to go for a walk. but that’s not the same as having the blood flow for it#so i think i overexerted myself cause of being finally happy and mentally energized i forgot about being physically disabled#i also had to explain POTS to somebody today and she was literally like ‘oh is that the thing where you need to have salt’ and NO like#i do have a really high salt intake to cope with POTS. but that’s not the fucking thing yknow?? like no that’s not what the thing i have is#it has nothing to do with salt. salt is a fun little coincidence that it can help with water retention which in turn helps with POTS#and it raises blood pressure is i think the other reason? but anyway idk i would honestly rather she just not know about it than have like#that very particular tiktok version of it like i am so glad for internet knowledge being spread and stuff and i mean. i guess even the posts#that i’m about to complain about are good for making people feel like they’re not alone. so maybe it’s fine. but i was going to complain of#the videos that are like ‘‘that one POTS friend’’ and it’s just like. salty food. instead of like. having to sit down?? BEING FATIGUED??#and like whatever. whatEVER but i wish it wasn’t getting conflated with one particular little way of treating it. even though i use that way#i don’t have needs-a-lot-of-salt-disease. like that’s not the point. that’s not the issue. it’s not a salt deficiency. salt just helps#and it doesn’t FIX it. it just helps. that’s all#ANYWAY EVERYTHING IS FINE. i feel sick though. but i’m gonna sleep and i’ll be fine#i miss before i had a job cause then i could sleep all day if i skipped class and it would be really nice. but now i have a job i would be#missing on my responsibilities for. and I don’t actually have accommodations. but im gonna sleep i’ll be fine#and library book cart is actually so rollator. like as far as being able to walk the library situation is such a win#anyway i’m gonna go to sleep now. but yeah idk i’m sick and a mess what else is new. but i have something whatever i’m good theres something#unrequited love for life or something like that. ok im gonna go to bed sorry for being weird and strange all the time!!!!#me. my post. mine.#delete later
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