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myhairpintrigger · 5 months

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Grieving for the Living (Aleksander Morozova x fem!reader) Part 1

The entirety of a capricious and treacherous marriage between the Darkling and the Lantsov princess.

part 2 here!

oh look who's writing again!!!! ME! this particular story is going to be about 5-6 parts and most of it is finished. i've had a lot of requests to do an arranged marriage trope and so here she is. normally, i would have just posted the entire thing, but the first half alone was over 30k words and if ur anything like me, that's dangerous for someone with an attention span of a seven year old. but nonetheless, i love u and i miss u and i'm so looking forward to being back. REQUESTS ARE STILL OPEN and i implore u to take advantage of that because i would love to busy myself with writing. sending u all hugs and kisses on the cheeks. (apologies in advance for the time ur wasting on this mess)

word count: 10.1k

warnings: nothing serious. drinking, kissing, examples of a not very healthy relationship. minimal swearing i think??

Your wedding dress lay abandoned on the cold floor, along with your jewelry and your veil and your shoes. You sat, chin deep in hot water, eyes fixated on the water in front of you. Footsteps echoed in the room adjacent- your new, shared, room- and each one made you wince. Each one a reminder of the man who the steps belonged to.

Your husband.

Not by choice, of course. He was kind, chivalrous, and ever so polite. He’d looked away when you practically tore your wedding dress off and threw your jewels to the floor. He’d insisted that he wouldn’t touch you, wouldn’t pressure you to consummate the marriage. He’d had a hot bath put together for you as you sat on the floor by his- yours- bed, and he’d helped you to your feet when it was ready. He wasn’t any happier about the marriage than you, but it wasn’t like either of you were in a place to argue.

He was The General of the Second Army of Ravka. You were the Princess of Ravka. Neither of you really had the clearance to be protesting what your father had commanded. Your father insisted that it was a smart pairing, that uniting the Grisha with your family was a major political statement. One that might bring a bit more peace amongst those who sneered at the Grisha. You suspected it also had something to do with the fact that your mother didn’t want to send you off to marry someone who’d whisk you away from Os Alta. You were, after all, the youngest in the Lantsov family. Your mother might just lose her temper if you were to be sent away.

The fact that you were married seemed surreal. You could be married to much worse men than The General, and that was for certain. But nevertheless, you were still full of disappointment. You’d never get to really fall in love, never get to truly be happy. The delusion of eventual happiness was often rude to you, because you knew that despite having an overall good life, you’d never have your own full agency. Not as a royal, and certainly not as a royal woman.

You’d been in the bathroom for nearly an hour now, and the water had begun to slowly go cold. With an exhausted glance at the door, you climbed slowly out of the bathtub and grabbed a large, plush towel that had been sat upon a stool just for you. You wrapped yourself in the towel and stared at the door with a blank frown. Your now-husband’s footsteps had ceased, and instead there was a strange silence that settled in. You brushed it off as best you could and opened up the door that would lead you into your shared bedroom.

The Darkling sat with his back up against the headboard of his bed and he held a book in his hands. His dark eyes flickered up to your face and they stayed there for a moment before he looked back to his book.

“There are night clothes for you, at the end of the bed. They’re still in the process of moving your belongings from the Grand Palace to here.” He explained, not looking back up at you.

You stayed in the doorway to the bathroom and your eyes floated around the entire bedroom for a moment before they settled on the clothes at the end of the bed. You shivered just slightly and pulled your towel tighter around your body.

“You wouldn’t be cold if you put clothes on, your Grace.” His voice was idle, and his eyes were still transfixed on his book. You wondered how he had noticed your shivering, but chalked it up to whatever abilities he had as a Grisha.

Every step you took towards the bed didn’t feel real. The whole night hadn’t felt real. You floated your way through your wedding with a dazed, fake smile painted across your face. The only thing grounding you at most times was the presence of The Darkling’s hand on your back. You grabbed the clothes in one hand and held your towel up with the other and started back towards the bathroom to change before he spoke again.

“I’m not going to look. You may change in here.” He stated, and with an unmoored nod of your head, you dropped your towel to the floor.

His eyes never strayed from his book once as you changed into your nightclothes, and you made sure of that by keeping yours fixed on him. He kept his word and didn’t so much as glance at you through his periphery. You stood awkwardly at the foot of the bed and picked at the stray threads at your sleeves, not sure of what to do now.

Your husband set his book on the side table next to his bedside and he peeled back the covers on the opposite side of the bed and he motioned towards it, “Please, it’s been a rather exhausting day for the both of us, and I think some sleep is in order.” He murmured and looked up at you, “Princess, please. I know this isn’t ideal, but I wish you would speak to me.” He pleaded in a soft tone, and you’d wondered if this man had ever pleaded for anything before in his life.

You slowly made your way towards the empty side of the bed and you climbed onto the mattress next to him, instantly tugging the covers up to your chin as you laid down, keeping distance between your bodies. You looked up at him to find that he was already gazing down upon your face and you felt flushed.

“I just want this to be as easy as possible for the both of us, Princess. We don’t have to be lovers, not really. But we can at the very least be friends.” He remarked kindly.

“I know.” You answered, finding your voice.

A very small smile made his full lips turn upwards, and a thin lock of hair fell over his forehead as he looked down at you.

“Go to sleep, Princess.”

You gave him a nod and closed your eyes, listening to him shuffle around a bit and blow out the candle at his bedside. Tears pooled in your closed eyes and you curled yourself into a ball, pulling the covers up over your head while little tears snuck their way out of the corners of your eyes. You didn’t know him, you didn’t even know his name. Misery weighed heavily on your chest and you wrapped your arms around yourself tightly, thinking that it was likely the only comforting embrace you’d ever feel.

Likely ever again.

Your husband’s kindness seemed to wear off as quickly as it had materialized. He was still polite and chivalrous, but you were certain it was because it was only standard to treat you like… well… royalty. He was gone often, so it didn’t bother you, not that much, at least. It had been nearly four months into your marriage, and this was the third time he’d been gone. His absence gave you a bit of relief, truth be told. You had his vast quarters to yourself and could do really anything you wanted, whether that was snooping around in his room or laying in bed all day reading.

Today happened to be a day where you had opted to stay in bed and read one of the many books you’d brought over from the Grand Palace. You hadn’t bothered to change into anything other than your bedclothes, and you sat on your side of the bed, legs tucked neatly underneath the covers. The doors to your shared quarters flew open loudly and a small handful of Grisha all filed into the room. Among the group was a red haired girl who you recognized as Genya. You knew her from the extensive time she spent with your mother, but the two of you didn’t speak often. She looked at you with an apologetic smile and you stared confusedly back at her.

“What’s going on here?” You asked and slowly set your book on your husband’s side of the bed.

Genya bowed her head respectfully and she walked towards the edge of your bed, “The Darkling is home. He’s brought the Sun Summoner with him. I’ve been sent by your mother to have you readied and sent into the Grand Palace immediately. The rest of them are here to tidy up the room.” She explained.

A small bit of disappointment swirled in your chest at the arrival of your husband and you carefully climbed out of the bed and nodded stiffly, “Okay.”

Genya led you into the bathroom as you peered over your shoulder at the Grisha that immediately had begun cleaning the near-spotless room. Once inside the bathroom, she shut the door behind you two and she sat you down on a little bench.

“Nothing fancy, please. This is not a… celebratory occasion.” You requested, and you saw the Tailor give you a little nod in your peripheral vision.

She didn’t spend long on getting you ready, in fact, she simply pulled your hair back with a soft black ribbon and put a bit of cream on your face for whatever reason. She left the room and came back with a long, black dress, holding it up to you as if you’d somehow been given a say in the dress you were to wear.

“I hate it.” You responded flatly, looking at the silver embroidery on the bodice of the dress, “I know I have something… colorful in that wardrobe. I cannot stand black.” You said, your tone borderline snotty.

Genya glanced at the dress and then back up at you and sighed, “It’s customary for you to wear his color-“ she began but you held your hand up to silence the girl.

“Customary? No. He’s ordered it, so it shall be. Is that it?” You asked, folding your arms over your chest.

She gave you a look of sympathy and held the dress out for you to take, not speaking, intentionally not verbally confirming your statement.

You scoffed and took the dress from her, “I’m getting real sick of men telling me what I should do. What events to attend, who to marry, where to be, how to speak!” You tossed the dress aside as if it were a venomous snake, “What to wear! What color I must present myself in! Who to meet!” You continued, your voice raising with each word.

You hadn’t even noticed the door had been opened until you heard someone clear their throat from the doorway. You and Genya spun around to see your husband standing by the door with the dress just a few feet from his boots. His face was unreadable, but his fist was clenched tightly at his side.

“Genya, I think I can take it from here. I apologize for my wife’s outburst. I’m sure she will never do it again.” He spoke, never looking at the Tailor once, instead, his eyes bore into yours.

You stared back into his eyes challengingly and waited for Genya to leave the room. Once she had skirted out, The Darkling closed the door loudly behind her. He bent down slowly and picked up the discarded dress and walked towards you. You backed up until the backs of your knees hit the bathtub and you could no longer go anywhere else. He stood only a foot away from you and he draped the dress over the edge of the claw-footed tub and he grabbed your waist with a surprising gentleness, turning you around.

“Take off the nightgown.” He commanded. You stared at the wall in front of you, but didn’t speak. You didn’t even move.

When you made no move to undress yourself, your husband reached down and grabbed the hem of your nightgown and began to pull it upwards.

You slapped his hands away and gasped, “Do not touch me! You swore you’d not lay a finger on me!” You shrieked. You spun around to see him leaning over you, his face showing mild irritation.

“Undress yourself. Now, y/n.”

He hardly ever used your name, and now that he had, you felt a bit nervous. He spoke calmly, eerily so. Your hands shook as you reached down and pulled the nightgown off, crossing your arms over your chest instantly afterwards to cover yourself. But he didn’t seem to be looking at your body. His dark eyes were fixed sternly on your face. He pointed at the dress by your side on the edge of the bathtub and you grabbed it. Slowly, you straightened it out and stepped into it, hands still shaking. Once you had pulled it up and slid your arms into the long sleeves, he grabbed your waist and turned you around again. He grabbed the laces of your dress and began to tie them with sharp, precise movements.

“There will not be another outburst like that, do you understand me?” He asked and gave the laces a hard tug, pulling you back a bit.

You were now so close to him that you could feel the heat radiating off of his body and you swallowed nervously before giving him a nod.

He finished lacing up your dress and he gently turned you towards him, looking down at you. He looked down at the dress and then back up at your face. He pointed at a pair of black boots on the floor and you silently slipped them on and bent down to tie them. Once you had, you straightened back up, and he offered you his arm. You stared at it for a moment before finally taking it and you frowned, tears springing to your eyes.

One trickled down your cheek and you looked down at the floor, sniffling. He brought a hand up to your chin and he gently lifted your head back up before he reached up and carefully wiped your tear away with his thumb.

“Princess, I have only requested you wear black this afternoon so that we look like we stand united. We need to look like we have a strong partnership. Your parents have begun asking about children.” He murmured and led you out of the bathroom slowly.

You didn’t respond, waiting for him to go on.

“I have told them we are doing the best that we can. Your father seems content with that answer. Your mother doesn’t. We need to appear to be much more… in love… than we are.” He explained. You shuddered at the thought of being with child.

The two of you walked out of your shared room and you let out a sigh, “Genya told me you have brought company. The Sun Summoner.”

He gave you a little nod and looked down at you, “Yes. And we must appear united to her, too. She needs to trust me. Trust the Grisha. How is she to trust me if my own wife doesn’t?” He asked and then gave you an accusatory look.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you. I just don’t want this.” You managed to say.

He gave you a pitiful smile and then shook his head, “Neither of us want this. But this is our reality. The sooner you accept it, the sooner it will be more comfortable.”

You searched his face for a very long moment and then you shifted your eyes away from his face, “I will never be comfortable in a reality where I have no say.” You stated, challengingly.

“Princess, with all due respect,” he began, leading you down the hallway, “you didn’t have a say to begin with.” He finished, sounding amused.

You scoffed, appalled by his boldness, “I’m allowed to be frustrated. I’m trapped in a loveless marriage!”

He shushed you sharply and looked down at you, giving you a scolding look, “What am I to do about these horrible outbursts you’ve been having?” He asked, his tone low.

You rolled your eyes but didn’t answer him. You just continued walking alongside him.

You passed a couple of Grisha girls in the hallway, and one of them gave The Darkling a particularly fond smile, wiggling her fingers in what was sure to be a seductive wave. You narrowed your eyes and tugged him along, past the others and towards the Grand Palace determinedly. Your husband stopped you from walking just a second later and he sighed, shaking his head almost dejectedly.

“We need to escort Alina to the Grand Palace.” He explained. You raised an eyebrow.

“Alina?” You asked, pulling your arm away from his and placing your hands on your hips, “Is she your mistress?” You demanded, stamping your foot down against the marble floors. The Darkling rolled his eyes at your insolence and if you hadn’t felt so angry, you might have also rolled your eyes at your behavior.

“Alina is the Sun Summoner.” He answered plainly and then leaned down towards your face. For a moment, you thought he was going to kiss you, and it seemed absurd. He’d never made any advances on you, he’d not even tried to befriend you, really. He kept going until his lips brushed the shell of your ear and he chuckled into it, “I wouldn’t take you to meet my mistress. Your sour attitude might spoil the fun I have with her.” He whispered smugly and then pulled away from your ear.

You stared up at him, wide eyed. Not only did he just insult you, but he’d just admitted to adultery. Your upper lip twitched and you brought your hand up involuntarily, bringing your palm up to his cheek quickly. The slap you left upon his face echoed in the empty hallway and you grit your teeth. He clearly didn’t expect it, because his head was turned to the side and his eyes were closed. Slowly he turned his head back to face you and his jaw was set angrily. His eyes were burning holes into your own, and if you were smart, you would’ve stopped there.

“Not only am I your wife but I am the Princess of Ravka. I outrank you by many people. Forget not who you speak to.” You hissed, trying to muster up the most bravery you’d ever tried to conjure before in your life, “You will respect me the way a subject should respect their Princess, but you will also respect me the way a husband should respect a wife. In love or not.” You snapped, feeling your bravery wane as he towered over you. Had he always been that tall?

You prepared yourself for his wrath. You’d never experienced it, but you’d heard rumors. He was formidable. There was a reason he led the Second Army, and you assumed it wasn’t posterity alone. But his wrath never came. Instead, a gentle hand took your chin and tipped your head upwards. He gave you a soft smile and you briefly thought he was going to apologize, to say it was a terrible joke and that he didn’t mean what he’d said. But he didn’t, not even close.

“Oh, sweet y/n. My darling wife. You may be the Princess, and for that you have my respect, but as my wife? You have none of it. Let me make that clear; I would fuck countless women- and men- before I even considered laying a finger on you. You could be the last girl in the world, and I still wouldn’t touch you.” He pulled away and offered his arm to you again, giving you a sweet smile.

You didn’t love him. In fact, you were quite sure now that you hated him. So why did his words sting so badly? You rapidly tried to blink away the tears that rushed to your eyes, and you stumbled back a bit. Footsteps echoed through the hall, but they sounded like they were underwater, and you could faintly hear someone call out for your husband. You went to lean your back up against the wall, but just as soon as you moved backwards, his hands came to your waist and he pulled you against his chest in what appeared to be a tender embrace.

He was petting your hair and shushing you, and you were too stunned to pull yourself away. Your forehead rested against his warm kefta and you sniffled loudly, catching a faint smell of leather and something sweet, something woodsy. Him. It’s what his sheets smelled like and what his room smelled like. The scent made your head hurt and you went to pull away, but his arms locked you in place.

“General, I- what’s going on?” A voice asked.

Yeah, General, you thought, what’s going on?

“Alina, this is my wife.” He answered smoothly, and it was almost amazing to you how he said “wife” so affectionately.

His arms loosened around your body and you slowly pulled away from him, keeping your head down as to hide your tear stained eyes and cheeks. You looked at the floor sadly, at your boots, his boots, and this Alina girl’s boots.

“Oh! Your Grace!” Alina breathed, curtsying to you respectfully.

You lifted your head and gave her a weak smile, “You must be the Sun Summoner.” You croaked, wanting to disappear into thin air.

“You must excuse her state, Miss Starkov,” your husband interjected, “it’s just that we’re both a bit disappointed right now.” He said coolly, “We’ve been trying for a child since our wedding night, and,” he paused and reached for your hand. You felt sick when he grabbed it and held it tightly in his own, as if he were soothing you, “well, we’ve had no luck.” he finished, giving your hand a little squeeze.

“My apologies, General- and Princess.” She said quietly and you gave her another small smile but didn’t speak.

“We must be going, Miss Starkov. You need to meet the rest of the royal family.“ he urged and pulled you against his side, “Come, follow us.”

The week following the arrival of Alina Starkov was grey. The clouds hung ominously in the sky, and every so often, it would rain just a little bit. You’d spent most of your time sitting by the window in your husband’s room, silent. He’d spend much of his time away from you, and you were grateful for that. The only time you saw him in the past seven days had been only when the two of you went to bed. So it was odd when the doors to the room were opened and you could hear his familiar footsteps on the floor. You didn’t turn around to greet him, but eventually you could sense him standing right behind you. You sat on the window seat wrapped in a thick, black blanket, and you very slowly turned your head around to face him. He was already looking down at you. His beard had been freshly trimmed and shaped, you noted, and his dark eyes shone in the grey light that seeped through the clouds. He let out a long sigh.

“I owe you an apology.” He remarked.

You looked the man up and down and then shrugged, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself. You hadn’t uttered a word to him since the day you met Alina, and perhaps that was driving him insane. You couldn’t be sure, though. He was always so calm and collected, never letting a single emotion slip through the cracks of his steely armor. He slowly sank to his knees beside you and he was now level with your face, his eyes meeting yours.

“Prin- y/n…” he corrected himself and then pursed his lips for a silent moment. Finally, he let a breath out through his nose, “y/n, the way I spoke to you was out of line. You are correct when you say I ought to respect you, not only as my wife, but as the Princess of the country I swear allegiance to.”

You eyed him warily and leaned your head back against the wall, a little frown forming on your lips. You weren’t overly sure how to react to his apology. You weren’t even sure of why he was apologizing. You gave him another little shrug and he cocked his head slightly to the side.

“I know all too well that this marriage wasn’t wanted by either of us. We are having a hard time… adjusting. That’s to be expected. If we cannot be lovers, we should at least be able to be friends. We have a long life ahead of us.” He explained.

You listened to what he said and blinked a few times. You sniffed once to fill the silence and then you shook your head, “I don’t know how to be friends with you, Sir.” You replied after a while, looking back out the window.

“Okay, perhaps not friends, but we need amicability to survive this.” He spoke, and the soft tone of his voice drew your attention back to him.

You hated to admit how beautiful he was, how enticing he was. You’d heard many people in the Grand Palace and the Little Palace alike whisper about how they’d wanted him, but no one would ever make a move. For one, he was married to the princess, and if that wasn’t enough, usually his intimidating demeanor deterred anyone brave enough to ignore you. You searched his face for any trace of emotion, or even deception, but you found none.

“I don’t forgive you. But I agree with what you’ve said, and I appreciate your apology.” You said finally, tracing your finger against the inside of the blanket you held. You looked into his eyes and he gave you a very small smile.

“I’m going riding with Miss Starkov. I will be back for dinner. I’ll have the servants draw you a hot bath.” He said, rising to his feet.

You watched him stand and you nodded once, “Okay. Thank you.” You murmured and turned to look back out the window again.

It had begun to rain.

“I heard it was rather romantic!”

“Well, that’s what I heard too, but how romantic could it be?”

“There’s something romantic about sneaking into his war room… especially when his wife is asleep just a room away.”

“That’s just plain dangerous, don’t you know the Princess could have her head?”

Your fingers trembled as you held your teacup, eyes fixed pointedly on your husband’s face as he sipped his own tea and seemed to look everywhere but you. The voices from two Grisha a table over were completely audible to your ears and you slammed your teacup down on the table. This seemed to grab The Darkling’s attention and he narrowed his eyes a bit before he shook his head.

“What are you doing?” He asked quietly and reached across the table to gently hold your wrist.

“I’ve had it with your gossiping Grisha. I’ve heard the same stories all week. Every time I come to have tea or a meal, it’s all anyone can talk about.” You said critically.

You were referring to six days prior. Alina had wandered into your husband’s war room, a room adjacent to your shared bedroom. You weren’t, in fact, asleep. You’d been up reading while you waited on sleep to come to you, but to no avail. The Darkling often spent most of his night in the war room at his war table or his desk, going over plans, strategies, and whatever else he deemed important. Apparently she couldn’t sleep, and according to every rumor you’d heard, the two had shared a particularly intimate moment. Whether it was true or not, you’d never know. The man was evasive whenever you asked him about it. Whatever happened, the gossip was running rampant around the Little Palace and likely the Grand Palace now. You’d wondered if your parents had heard. The thought made you recoil.

“My dear, it’s silly gossip.” He insisted and you slowly rose from the table and gave him an overly sweet smile, a smile without a trace of sincerity behind it.

“Will it be silly when I tell my father of its truth?” You asked, batting your lashes at him innocently.

His mouth twitched and you could see that you’d angered him slightly. You’d been getting rather good at that of late.

“Y/n.” The Darkling warned and slowly stood up from the table as well, walking towards you. His hand found its way to your back and he promptly led you out of the dining hall. You only followed without protest because you didn’t want to give anyone more reasons to gossip about your clearly loveless marriage.

There was enough of that already.

You followed him into the hallway and all the way across the Little Palace, and finally back into his quarters. He closed the door behind him and he gave you a look up and down before you turned on your heel and went to sit on a chair in the corner of the room.

“What happened to having a united appearance?” You asked in a bored tone, crossing your legs stiffly as you looked up at him. He stayed by the doors and thought for a while before sighing.

“Would it really bother you so much if I had shared such a moment with Alina?” He asked and took a step towards you.

You scoffed, “Please. I couldn’t care less who you have affections for. Alas, as you said, I could be the last girl alive and you wouldn’t touch me. But keep your affairs private.” You snapped, but the words were bitter in your mouth.

He stared at you for a long while and then he chuckled and shook his head, leaning up against his war table. He seemed amused. He didn’t seem to be taking you seriously, and this made you angry. You stood up from the chair and stomped over to him, standing less than a foot away from the much taller man.

You jabbed your finger against the center of his chest, “I mean it. You will not drag my name down with you just because you are aching to have some girl warm your bed! I am the Princess, I will be respected as such! You will not stand-“

His cold, rough hands flew to your cheeks and he roughly pulled you forward as he leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. You didn’t know how to react at first, so you stood there, shocked. Then came panic. You’d only ever been kissed once before, and it had been nothing like this. A peck on the lips from a suitor, a goodbye kiss. This was different. Your husband’s mouth was soft and warm, and the kiss was intense. You tentatively returned his kiss with clumsy, inexperienced lips, and finally he pulled away, dropping his hands away from your face. Your cheeks felt hot and you stared up at him confusedly, trying to make sense of whatever had just happened.

Your husband stared back at you, almost as if he were surprised that he’d done that, too.

“You’ve never been kissed before.” He commented, and your cheeks heated up even more.

Was it that obvious? You looked away and then sniffed.

“Not like that.” You remarked, suddenly becoming hyper aware of your heart, which was beating faster than normal in your chest. Could he hear that? Surely not. But weren’t there Grisha that could? Was he one of them? Why did he kiss you? You bombarded yourself with questions and placed a hand on your temple.

“Don’t overthink it, Princess.” His voice rang out through the noise in your head and you blinked up at him.

His expression was unreadable and you slowly backed away from the Darkling. He looked so put together, so immaculate. His face was cool and his posture was perfect, not a hair was out of place on his head. You on the other hand? You were sure your cheeks were as hot as the fireplace burning in the corner of the room, and your hair felt disheveled. You wanted to slap him across the face for kissing you, and you wanted to ask him why. You doubted you’d ever get an answer, though. Months had gone by since your union, and he’d not so much as held your hand or told you that you looked beautiful. So this kiss? It was currently making your head hurt.

Were you even attracted to the man? You wondered. He was breathtaking, you didn’t need to like him to admit that.

A hand wrapped itself around your arm and you recognized it as his. You looked up at him, surprised as he carefully pulled you back towards him.

“Hey, I told you not to overthink it. Go get ready for dinner. We will be dining with your parents.” He instructed.

You nodded dumbly and moved away from him, far enough and fast enough this time so that he couldn’t pull you back and you quickly walked into your bedroom, mind still racing.

“We hardly see you anymore, have you gotten any of the dresses I’ve sent for you, darling?” Your mother’s voice rang out across the dining table, and you looked up from your third glass of wine and gave her a smile.

“Mhm, thank you, Mother.” You replied, swirling the wine in your glass before you finished it.

Your mind had been reeling for the past three hours, replaying the kiss you and your husband had shared. It was strange to think about. You didn’t think he was even slightly attracted to you. Maybe he was just… desperate? No, that couldn’t be it, surely. He could get anyone he wanted, it wasn’t like you were all that there was. And didn’t he swear that even if you were the last person alive that he wouldn’t want you that way? You blinked a few times and reached out for the crystal decanter full of wine and you poured yourself another glass, your head feeling nice and empty.

A hand clasped your forearm gently and you looked up to see your husband staring down at you.

“My love, are you listening?” He asked and eyed you, almost concernedly.

You looked at him for a moment longer before you looked around the table to see your mother, your father, and your brother staring at you.

“What? What was said?” You asked, not recalling hearing anyone speak.

“Darling, girl. Your mother asked you a question.” The General said with a soft, amused laugh.

You eyed him for a moment through narrowed eyes and then you looked at your mother. Your cheeks felt warm and you began to feel very light. You let out a pleasant sounding sigh and then smiled at your mother.

“Sorry, what did you ask, Mother?” You asked, your tongue feeling a bit too big for your mouth.

“I asked if you have gotten the chance to wear that pretty purple gown I had made for you.” She said, her thin eyebrow arching slightly.

You thought for a moment, bringing your hand up to your forehead, “Purple gown?” You echoed, trying to picture it. You tried your hardest to picture the dress she spoke of, but your mind began to wander again. Back to the kiss.

You turned your eyes away from your mother and now looked at your husband. He was looking across the table at your mother as well, his big, brown eyes fixed on the woman politely. His chiseled jaw moved and you realized he was speaking, but you couldn’t be bothered to listen. His voice seemed far away, anyhow. His prominent nose and strong cheekbones were highlighted in the evening light, making his side profile appear even more impressive than usual. You sighed quietly when your gaze traveled to his lips and stayed there, unwavering.

Slowly, he turned his head towards you and gave you a very soft smile.

“My love, you are drunk.” He spoke. You opened your mouth to protest, but giggled instead.

“I think we should’ve taken her drink away after the first glass.” Vasily grumbled from across the table.

This made you scowl and you turned to your brother with an annoyed glower, “Oh, shut up, Vasily. You drink the town dry whenever you’re able.” You retorted, folding your arms over your chest defiantly.

“Don’t you two start-“ your father began, but Vasily stood up from the table abruptly.

“You are the Princess of Ravka. You will act like it. That means you present yourself well at all times- even around just your family.” He said haughtily.

You and your brother seldom got along. Perhaps it was because he had much more traditional beliefs about gender roles and had a strong lean towards a patriarchal dynamic in the palace, or maybe it was because you had bonded with your half brother, Nikolai, much better than he and Vasily had bonded.

You opened your mouth to argue back at him, but a strong hand grabbed your shoulder and you looked up to see that your husband now stood over you. He held your shoulder gently and he gave your parents both an apologetic smile.

“Your majesties, I think I’m going to take our lovely princess back to the Little Palace. Don’t judge her too harshly, please. We have both been struggling with… our lack of child.” He explained with a voice as soft as velvet.

Silver tongued bastard.

Your mother placed a sympathetic hand over her chest and she nodded once, a sad look covering her face, “Oh, we pray to the Saints every night that you two will find luck. I know how hard it’s been for you two.” She said sadly, looking over to your father who was now nodding along with her.

You tried to stand up from the chair, but the black silk of your gown caught underneath your shoe, and you stumbled a bit. Your husband easily caught you, and in one fluid motion, he lifted you up into his arms. You threw your arms around his neck and laid your head on his shoulder. He smelled just as you had remembered from weeks ago, only now it seemed more inviting.

You heard him bid your family goodbye and then you felt his body move slightly with each graceful step he took. Once both of you were out of earshot of anyone else, you heard your husband sigh softly through his nose. You looked up at him from where your head laid on his shoulder.

“I do believe this is the first time I’ve seen you… intoxicated.” He remarked, his tone even, “You drinking for any particular reason, Princess?” He asked.

You stared at his hair and reached up to twirl the ends of it around your fingertip, “Just having some wine, that okay with you, husband?” You asked with a mirthful giggle, giving his hair a gentle tug.

You watched the corner of his lip tugged upwards in a smile and he glanced down at you, “You about gave your brother a seizure.” He remarked and then pushed open the doors to the courtyard with his foot.

The cool evening air made your warm cheeks feel nice and you closed your eyes, your fingers still absentmindedly twisting about in your husband’s hair, “He is… a handful.”

“Oh, I know. I’ve watched him grow up.” He remarked and you furrowed your eyebrows.

His words confused you for a moment but then you recalled that he didn’t really age. Not like you, anyway. Grisha perk, you guessed.

“So that means you’ve watched me do the same, I guess.” You hummed, trying to think back to your earliest memory of The Darkling.

“Yes and no.” He replied, “In the years following you and Vasily being born, I was often away on business. And besides, you two were often in lessons or doing whatever it is royal children do. I can recall seeing you in the flesh maybe four times before you turned sixteen.” He explained.

You thought for a moment and then you let out a sigh, your hand falling away from his hair, “That’s… weird.” You murmured, trying to wrap your head around it, “So you’re like… old? How old? Like, fifty?” You asked, growing more curious.

“No, not fifty, darling. One hundred twenty.” He replied idly and then he chuckled, “Serving for your family has been in my family for quite some time.” His tone was amused and you lifted your head away from his shoulder.

“Was it weird when we got married then?” You asked and blinked slowly, your eyes adjusting to the dim light outside.

He thought for a moment and then he shook his head, “Well, I wouldn’t necessarily say it was ‘weird’. Your father initially wanted to marry you off to one of Ketterdam’s richest politicians. But your poor mother wept whenever he’d bring it up. I mean, at this point you were an adult. It was time in their eyes for you to be married off. Eventually your parents offered me your hand and I figured that it wasn’t the worst thing that could happen. I mean, you’d still be home, after all, and at least I can ensure that you aren’t… made to be a traditional wife.” He explained, looking down at your face.

“Traditional wife..?” You asked confusedly.

“Princess, you have lived a rather luxurious life. Both your mother and your father have gone very easy on you. But I’ve seen past princesses married off to be bred like dogs and that’s all.” He had your attention now, and you looked into his eyes while he spoke, “I think that you have grown up to be an exceptionally intelligent and remarkable girl, that needn’t be wasted on some pig from Ketterdam who wants your children for status.” He said firmly, his eyes never leaving yours.

He walked up the steps to the front doors of the Little Palace and two guards opened the doors for you two. He stepped inside and you took a moment to process his words. It was without a doubt, the nicest thing he’d ever said to you. You stayed silent in thought the whole way back to your shared bedroom, and before you knew it, you were being gently placed on the edge of the bed. Your husband knelt before you and was busying himself with getting your boots unlaced, his eyes focused on the task at hand. Your mind swirled with his words and you could almost hear him in your mind, telling you not to overthink it.

Too late for that.

“If you think I’m so intelligent and remarkable, why do you hate me?” You whispered, looking down at him. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth anxiously and awaited his answer.

For a while, you wondered if he had even heard you, because he didn’t speak. Instead, he simply pulled your boots off and reached underneath your dress chastely to pull your tights off. He looked up at you after he had freed your legs from their stocking smothered prison, straightening up a bit. Even though you were sitting on your bed and he was on his knees before you, he was almost level with your face, and you found yourself only having to shift your head downwards slightly.

“I don’t hate you, y/n.” He replied slowly, his hands coming to rest on your dress over your calves.

“You certainly could have fooled me.” You said slowly, your head spinning. You chalked it up to the wine.

He took his time responding again, and when he did, you had almost forgotten what you two had been speaking about.

“Sweetheart, you’ve had much to drink tonight. I don’t think we need to be getting into these conversations while you are drunk.” He replied softly and then he stood up.

He left the room promptly and you felt your eyes well up with tears. You did not want to cry, especially over him, but it also felt like you two were having some sort of breakthrough tonight. Just as the first tear fell, he entered the room again, and he walked towards you determinedly. When he saw the tear rolling down your cheek, he reached down and wiped it away with his thumb. You looked up into his dark, endless eyes and you frowned.

“Why did you kiss me?” You asked, finally having the courage to speak about the thing that had been giving you not a moment’s peace all evening.

He grabbed your hands gently and pulled you off of the bed and turned you around. He began to unlace your dress with skilled fingers and you were suddenly very self conscious, “I kissed you because I saw no other way to quiet your outburst.” He replied coolly, fingers still moving quickly to unlace your dress, “I’m having a bath drawn for you. Let’s just get you out of these clothes, yeah?” He asked softly.

At first, you felt a bit disappointed when he told you that the kiss was only a means to quiet you, but then you were confused as to why you were even disappointed in the first place.

Your husband pulled your dress down your body and you shivered slightly as his fingers brushed your shoulder blades. Instantly, you were covered by something cold to the touch and you looked down to see your husband had draped a silk robe over your body. You slipped your arms into it and he helped you step out of your dress before you quickly tied the robe closed with clumsy, drunk fingers. You puffed your cheeks out and turned around, expecting The Darkling to be across the room, but instead, he was right in front of you, just inches away.

“Woah.” You murmured, taken aback by his close proximity. You stumbled back just slightly, but your husband had reflexes like you’d never seen. He caught you by your arms and steadied you, looking down into your eyes.

You gazed up into his eyes and you tried to stay focused on his stare, but your eyes strayed to his lips. You flickered your gaze between his lips and his eyes for a moment before you stood on your tiptoes and leaned forward, intent on kissing him again.

You hardly moved forward, and were confused as to why, until you realized he was holding you back. You looked up at him with a pathetic frown and you stuck your bottom lip out.

“Do I need to have another outburst for you to let it happen again?” You asked, the words leaving your mouth before you had a chance to even think them over.

“You are drunk, y/n. I’m not going to let that happen.” He said sternly.

You felt your cheeks heat up, you felt… rejected. The feeling left a sour taste in your mouth and you looked down, avoiding his stare. You wished things could go back to the way they had been just hours ago, before he had kissed you. You wished that he’d yell at you or insult you again, anything other than reject you. You wished he’d let go of you and let you run across the courtyard and back into your old bedroom, where he ceased to exist as your husband, where the kiss never happened, where you were unwed and happily reading alone.

A tap on the doorframe pulled you out of your head and you both looked at the servant who stood there.

“The bath is warm and ready whenever she is, Sir.”

He nodded once and turned to you with a weak smile, “Go. Get in the bath. Call for me if you need help.” He said softly, sending you on your way.

You haphazardly made your way to the bathroom and dropped your robe. You closed the door hurriedly and then stepped into the hot bath. Although the water was slightly too hot for your liking, you still sunk down into it, arms wrapped around yourself tightly.

You thought that maybe the hot water would scald the thoughts of The Darkling right out of your head.

You were disappointed to find that it did no such thing.

Your husband had been avoiding you.

If he wasn’t, he was doing a very poor job being around, and if he was, then he was succeeding with flying colors. He’d been so keen on not being around you ever since the night of having dinner with your parents.

That was nearly five days ago now.

Now you sat alone in a room full of other Grisha, picking uncomfortably at your lunch. Under any normal circumstance, your husband would at the very least eat with you, but he didn’t seem to be interested in keeping up appearances with you anymore. You shifted awkwardly in your chair and set your spoon down, feeling the eyes of everyone in the room on you. You stared off into your bowl of soup for a while, wondering when it was socially acceptable to stand up and abandon your untouched lunch. You had only just decided that you were going to leave when the doors to the dining hall opened up. You didn’t even have time to stand before your husband walked inside.

But he wasn’t alone.

Alina Starkov was politely clutching his arm and he was ushering her inside. You pressed your lips together, feeling even more gazes settle upon you than before. Abruptly, you stood up from your table and met your husband’s eyes with a challenging stare. When he looked at you, so did Alina. She almost for a fleeting second looked guilty, but then her gaze turned pitiful and at the same time almost… prideful.

You sniffed once and stood completely still as the pair began to approach you. You ran your tongue along the backs of your teeth as the two grew closer and closer, and you willed yourself not to have what your husband would call “an outburst.”

Once they were a mere three feet away from you, you watched your husband’s face melt into a sickeningly sweet smile and he held his hand out for you.

“My love, I was thinking-“

“Your Grace.” You corrected sharply. Every voice in the room stopped all at once and now you were sure every single eye was on you.

“Pardon me?” Your husband asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You will call me ‘Your Grace’. I am the princess. You will give me the respect of formalities.” You chided, feeling an unbridled sense of anger warm your veins.

He looked taken aback, and he stood there silently, waiting for whatever else you had to say. But you were done. You pushed your chair in and you looked Alina up and down once before you shouldered past your husband, making a beeline directly out of the dining hall.

You marched with intent back into your shared bedroom and you made quick work of pulling all of your clothes out of the sleek black armoire that had been dedicated to your numerous dresses. With a look of disgust, you left each black piece hanging in the armoire and tossed the rest onto the bed. You made a large pile of your clothes and blankets and you gathered them all into your arms, albeit struggling to get a hold of the clothes.

You were ready to get out of the Little Palace. You formulated a plan as you hobbled across the room to the door, holding the pile of gowns in your arms. You’d go back to the Grand Palace and you’d beg and beg, and even cry if you had to, to your parents to get you out of this marriage and let you marry someone- anyone- else. Perhaps you’d tell them he was cruel, or perhaps you’d say you’d never bear a child because the Grisha can’t procreate. You huffed angrily as you kicked your bedroom door open, and you shuffled out of the room, not able to see over the mountain of dresses in your arms. You were your parents’ favorite, after all. Surely they’d make this allowance for you just this once.

You hadn’t even made it halfway down the hallway before you bumped into someone. You let out a small sigh and craned your neck around the clothes. You caught a glimpse of a black Kefta around your dresses and you shook your head, trying to go around him. He stepped in front of you again, blocking you from walking away.

“I am not doing this with you.” You deadpanned, “So get out of my way and let me go. The sooner we can get this… arrangement ended, the sooner you and I can just live our own lives, General.”

But he didn’t respond. Instead he sidestepped you and grabbed your shoulders in a steel-like grip and steered you against your will back to the bedroom. You dropped your dresses to the floor once you were in the bedroom and you gaped up at him angrily. His face didn’t show a single emotion other than maybe mild annoyance, and this made you even angrier. You pursed your lips tightly and stared up at him defiantly, folding your arms across your chest.

“Breaking our ‘arrangement’ would mean you’d be married off to someone who will not give you free will.” He finally said, taking a half step closer to you.

“I don’t care. I hate you.” You said, childishly.

“You don’t hate me. You are cross with me. You sound like a child, right now.” He remarked and you shook your head.

“No. I hate you. I mean, I really hate you. You cannot make up your mind! We get married and you’re kind to me, and not even a month later you’re as cold as ice! Then you tell me that you wouldn’t touch me if I was the last person alive! But then you kiss me? Take care of me when I’m drunk, you’re all… gentle with me. And now you’re avoiding me, sneaking around with her. Make no mistake, I couldn’t care less who you really love, but this isn’t fair to me!” You exclaimed, your voice growing less angry and more… hurt, much to your dismay, “You might think you’re in the right, marrying me for noble reasons, but I’m…” you trailed off and you leaned back against the wall next to the door and you slid down slowly, until you were sitting on the cold floor, your dress pooling around your legs.

He waited for you to continue, not speaking. His eyes never left your face once and you felt the familiar burn of his gaze on you. The even more familiar sting of tears began to form over your eyes and you brought your hands up to your face.

“I’m tired of pretending that I’m okay with a chivalrous at best marriage. This is never what I wanted,” you started, your voice wavering, “I would rather risk it all and take my chances with someone else if it meant there was a slight chance of finding someone who actually loves me.” You finished in a whisper, keeping your face in your hands.

He was silent and you expected this. You expected him to smooth it over and tell you that it was okay, that this marriage was for the best, and then leave again. You expected him to go back to Alina and spend the rest of the day with her, as he had the past five days.

What you didn’t expect was to feel his hands gently pull you to your feet by your arms. You didn’t look at him, you didn’t want to, so you opted for looking down at the tips of your boots. You were so close to him that you could smell him, just as you had when he carried you back to your bedroom. Except, now the smell wasn’t inviting. Now, it made your head hurt and it made your chest tighten. You pressed your lips together as tightly as you could and said nothing, hoping that he’d just leave you alone.

His cold fingers grabbed ahold of your chin and he tilted your head up towards his and he looked down into your tear-glossed eyes. You felt your bottom lip quiver as you sucked in a sharp breath through your nose. You wanted to pull away, you wanted to at the very least, look away, but he held your gaze. His face had no emotion on it, but you could see in his eyes that his mind was racing, like he didn’t know what to do. You shakily reached up and grabbed his wrist in your smaller hand and you pried his hand away from your face. You gave him an apologetic smile and you took a step back.

“You know this is for the best.” You whispered.

“Best for who?” He asked, quickly, as if he didn’t even think about it.

You were taken aback, “For both of us. This way you can be with Alina, just like you want, and I can have a shot at finding real love. It’s for the best.” You insisted, taking another step back.

You didn’t get far, because The Darkling’s hands moved quickly to grab your waist and pull you back towards him.

“I disagree.” He whispered, “You are just scared. This isn’t what’s best. You’re just frightened. Frightened that you may have feelings for me, frightened that I don’t return them. Frightened that I have affections for Alina.”

You furrowed your brow and you looked up at him and shook your head, “That’s not…” you trailed off and fell silent. You refused to contemplate his words, and maybe it’s because you knew he was right. It was impossible not to be somewhat attracted to him, by his looks alone. You shook your head again and tried to step away, but he wasn’t letting you go anywhere.

“You’re making this worse.” You whispered and closed your eyes, your lips pursing.

“Let me make it better, then.” He said in a low tone.

“I don’t want you to make it better.” You insisted.

“If you wanted love, little princess, all you needed to do was tell me.” He murmured, bringing a hand up to cup the side of your face gently.

“I don’t want to.” You argued, but the way you leaned your face into the palm of his hand was a bit contradictory.

“Then what is it that you do want?” He asked, thumb brushing slowly across your cheekbone, his cold skin sending a chill through your body.

“I…” you began, tears pooling in your eyes. They slowly rolled down your cheeks as you looked up at him, your bottom lip trembling, “I want you to love me.” You admitted, shame heating your cheeks.

The silence between the two of you was palpable and you went to move away from him again, but he pulled you back into place once more. His thumbs caught each tear that rolled down your cheeks, though it seemed pointless with how many were falling. You two stayed like that for a long time, until your husband coaxed your head forward. He gently laid your head down against his chest and he wrapped both of his arms around your waist, a gesture that would have left you speechless if you weren’t already out of words to say.

His hand laid against the back of your head and he slowly began to rock you from side to side, as if it would soothe you. There was so much you wanted to ask him, but the questions would leave your mind as soon as they came. Part of you wanted to pull away from him, leave him behind like you’d planned, but the other part couldn’t even consider leaving his embrace.

So you didn’t.

#grishaverse #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone #aleksander morozova imagine #aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova x reader #general kirigan imagine #general kirigan x reader #general kirigan #the darkling imagine #the darkling x you #the darkling imagine #the darkling #the darkling x reader #ben barnes x reader #ben barnes imagine

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sturniololoco · 4 months

Note

can you do a the sturniolo triplets little sister story where they have a bunch of friends over and it becomes a lot for y/n and she gets overwhelmed and runs to the bathroom or her room and one of her brothers notice and calm her? thank you <3

Too Much

Sturniolo Little Sister (SLS) x The Sturniolo Triplets

Warnings: People, crying, panic, etc.

SLS's POV

Today was Friday, the day I've been dreading all week.

it's my brother's 20th birthday, only that wasn't the problem. It was the fact that they were inviting a whole lot of people to our small house for a party.

and I don't do people.

Matt keeps telling me that I will be fine, that I just need to relax, but I can't stop the endless worrying from filling my mind.

It's now 8:00. There was a knock on the door and my brothers went downstairs to greet the three influencers who walked up into our kitchen. I smiled from my seat on the island, and this process continued.

Over 20 times.

The room was stuffy with too many people. Every time I moved, I could feel someone touching my arm or hitting my back. There was screaming, singing, and dancing everywhere. The music was so loud that I could barely hear myself think.

The only thing that registered in my brain was get out.

As soon as I made my way through the crowd, I sprinted up the stairs and into Nicks's bathroom.

I slammed the door closed and fell to the floor. I closed my eyes, put my hands over my ears, rested my head against the bathroom wall, and finally let the panic set in.

Matt's POV

I could not find SLS/N anywhere. I tried asking my brothers, but they were occupied with our guests.

I was trying to find her to make sure she was okay. She's never been good with loud noises and too many people, so I knew this was definitely pushing her limits.

I decided to look in Chris's room, even his bathroom, but still didn't find her there. She wasn't in my room either.

After weaving my way through the crowded space, I managed to make it up the stairs to Nick's room.

Then I heard crying from the bathroom.

SLS/N's POV

I lift my head up as the bathroom door is pushed open, still not taking my hands off my ears.

"S-Someones in h-here!" I shouted, so no one would try and talk to me.

It didn't work. I was surprised to see Matt come in and close the door behind him, sitting on the ground next to me.

All he has to do is open his arms, and I immediately jump into him, falling apart in his lap. He sushes me comfortingly, stroking my hair.

When my breathing slows down and the tears stop flowing, I say,

"I'm sorry I ruined your night." Feeling terrible that he's in here sitting with me instead of enjoying his special day.

He lifts my chin up, making me look at him before saying,

"Sweetheart, you did not ruin my night. I'm just glad that you're okay, and I'm sorry we put you through this." He says, wiping the stray tears off my face.

I just nod, not wanting to let the sobs I was holding back out by opening my mouth.

He stands up and helps me to my feet. Grabbing my hand, he leads me out of the room and to Nick's bed, motioning for me to sit down. I do so, laying back and pulling his covers over me.

matt walks over to the dresser, coming back with Nick's noise-canceling headphones.

"Why don't you watch a movie and relax, and I'll come check on you in a bit." He says to me, slipping the headphones over my ears, and then giving me a kiss on the forehead.

I smile at him giving him a little wave as he leaves the room, blowing me a kiss.

I sigh contently as I scroll onto Netflix, grateful for having a brother like mine.

@idkwhosnyla @babypat08 @eyelessdemon00 @christopherowensturniolo @sturnsxx @freshloveforthefit @matty443355 @sleepysturnss @emeraldgreenbeautiesstu @sunsetsturniolos @hoesturniolo @x4nd3rsukz @chr1sgirl4life @sstvrnioloo @sturns-posts @chrisstopherfilmed @kylasrealityx @zoeysturnioloooooo @comet235 @islaasblog @sturnioloblogs @defnotayonna @mattsleftnipple03 @thematthewlover

#sturniolo imagine #nick sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo

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praisethegabs · 10 months

Text

TAKING CARE

pairing: leon kennedy x reader synopsis: he needs comfort and someone who cares about him, and you know he won't say it. at least, not out loud. author's note: another request, i think it's very cute. it's my first attempt to write a drabble, and here it is. this was heavily inspired by a conversation i had with my friend today! i hope you like it, anon 💓 warnings: just fluff in general with a small angst, no use of y/n, second person (you) word count: 934

Leon was a terrible liar.

You were his partner for years, and you were always there with him during assignments. You knew him better than anyone else and there was nothing he could hide from you. Your relationship with him was something very unique, and you knew you were the only person he truly trusted.

But oh lord, it was very hard to gain his trust.

That's why you didn't even cared having him laying on your couch on a Saturday night after almost one month away from home. He was tired just like you were and yet, he seemed bothered with something.

"Is everything okay?" you ask him, sitting on the floor, crossing your legs as you observes him.

"Yeah, I'm fine" he says, his arm resting on his face as he tries to protect his sight from the lights. "Just tired"

"You're a bad liar, Kennedy" You smirk, trying to provoke him as you poke his waist, making him groan a little. "Come on, big guy"

"I hate you" he muttered to you, slaping your hand from his waist, before he glances at you, getting more comfortable on your couch.

"You love me" you smirk, still poking him, which makes him sigh a little, rolling his eyes as he gets slightly annoyed by your insistence.

"Have you ever had this feeling... like... you don't belong to anyone else?" he asks you, sitting on your couch, sighing deeply. "Like... you're not destined to be with anyone? Always alone and this kind of bullshit?"

"Wow, I've never thought of that... why?" You raised an eyebrow, the smirk on your lips fading away, as you notice some sadness in his piercing blue eyes.

But he seemed hesitant for a moment, trying to find the right words to express himself, which was something he had a lot of trouble to do. Leon was a low profile person. He always kept things for him instead of opening himself up with others, so telling someone how he felt was a big deal.

"I mean, recently I've been asking myself if I'm not a lovable person, y'know? Like there's something wrong with me, like I don't deserve to be loved..." Leon avoids your gaze, focusing on your plant instead. You knew it was serious.

"Since when you've been thinking about this?" You ask him, joining his side on the couch, trying to gain his attention.

"I don't know... it's been a while. I feel like I won't end with someone, I won't have an happy ending, like everyone else. You know, everyone I ever cared about ended up betraying me or hurting me... which makes me ask myself if I'm not worthy of love" he finally looks at you and you can notice he's trying his best to not break in front of you.

How can you show him you care? How can you tell him he's worthy of love and he deserves all the happiness in the world? No matter what you say, he won't believe you. He's so broken inside, he's so shattered into a thousand of pieces that words can't fix him. How can you convince him he deserves only the best, when all he sees is pain and suffering? He was hurt before, and he tries so hard to hide it, but sometimes, when there's only you with him, he finally allows himself to be vulnerable. But this? This confession? Well, it's not like anything else you heard before.

So, with just an simple gesture, you just involved him in your arms, in a tight hug that could melt him inside you, where no one would hurt him again.

And when he feels this hug, when his skin touch yours, he knows he can be whatever he wants with you. He can be vulnerable, he can be everything he isn't while he's with others. Deep down, all he needs is someone to rely on. You.

"I have something to say, and I want you to hear me very carefully, Leon" you said, touching his face so he can look you in the eyes, and he just nods. "You're the most beautiful, lovely and bravest man I've ever knew. And by beautiful, I mean inside and out. You're worthy of all love of the world, you deserve to have an happy ending like everyone else and don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise"

He smirks, even there's sadness in his eyes. He nods again, a few tears dropping from his eyes as he bury his face in your neck, seeking comfort. Gently, you start to stroke his hair, leaning against the couch to be more comfortable as he lays on your chest, breathing more calmly.

"Thank you" he whispers, closing his eyes as he can hear your heart beating calmly inside your chest, your fingers still playing with his hair. "For everything"

"What can I say? I love you, jerk" you smirk, looking down at him, his face buried on your neck, but a soft smile on his lips. "And you better remember that"

"I will. Always" his breath on your neck makes your body shiver, and he notices it, makes him smile even more.

This is the unique relationship you have with him. The only person who knows his insecurities, the person he always seeks when he needs comfort and assurance. By the end of the day, it's you he'll always want to be with.

"By the way, I'll always take care of you" you whisper to him, even though you knew he's asleep now. He's snoring softly and you know he's in peace. "Always"

#leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x oc #leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x you #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon re4 #resident evil leon #infinite darkness leon #leon kennedy infinite darkness #leon resident evil #re4 leon #leon re2 #leon imagine #leon kennedy imagine

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bixbythemartian · 11 months

Text

This is About Oceangate

...kind of. Like, heads up for people who are sick of hearing about it or are too disturbed by this, just scoot on by, that's fine.

Like everybody else my age who had a middle school special interest in the Titanic that was further fueled by the James Cameron movie (and that sounds very specific, but I absolutely know I'm not alone), I've been following this story fuckin voraciously.

I think everybody I know IRL and online is fucking sick of me talking about it. I have been actively trying not to blog much about it here because I'm so obsessed with it that I'm annoyed with myself. I would like to not be this interested in it.

But a lot of the stuff I can think of to say has been said by a lot of people already, I don't want to add to an already noisy environment if I've got nothing new to say.

So, instead, I want to talk about what I haven't seen very many people talking about- something that's stood out to me about the way the media has been handling this story from the get-go. So, finally, I'm inflicting my days long media binge on you.

The media's handling of this was bad. Like, comprehensively fucked.

For the uninformed, a primer on the situation- feel free to skip down if you know all this, there's a bulleted list right after I get done with this part, look for that. But some of this is important to the terms I use, so I wanted to lay it out. (Also I just want to get a lot of this out of my system, please just let me have this.)

The Titan is a 'cyclops-class' submersible. As far as I can tell, 'cyclops-class' is unique to the people who made this submersible, it's not a widely recognized thing.

The Titan can carry up to five passengers. It was supposed to be rated to reach depths of up to 4000 meters below sea level.

The Titan is/was owned and operated by a company known as Oceangate. There's a lot of questions regarding the safety of the submersible, where the math came from on their depth rating, and- basically everything about the Titan is in question, at this point. There's a lot of questions, but that's not what I want to talk about.

Right now. Maybe later.

A submersible is distinct from a submarine in that it requires a surface support ship for many things- the Titan moved too slow to leave port under its own power and go to the site, it didn't have enough life support to do that kind of thing, etc. A submarine is self-supporting and can operate independently. Kind of pedantic, I know, but the Titan is a submersible, not a submarine.

The Titan had a planned expedition to the wreck of the Titanic on June 18, 2023- this past Sunday, at the time of writing. The expedition was supposed to last around 10 hours. It chartered a ship- the Polar Prince- to act as mother ship, the on the surface support that the Titan requires. (The Polar Prince is owned and operated by a different company than the Titan.)

1 hour and 45 minutes into the expedition, as the Titan was still making its way to the sea floor, the Polar Prince lost all contact with the submersible.

The Titanic wreck is at just under 4000 meters deep, right around 2.5 miles.

Now, my understanding is that the Titan was not fully at the ocean floor at the point contact was lost, but it's not clear how deep the Titan was at that time. We may not ever know this for certain.

When the Titan was reported as missing to the coast guard is kind of unclear, to me- I heard 6 hours after they lost contact, I heard 12 hours after they lost contact, I saw something that indicated they reported it missing immediately- I don't know for sure. When the coast guard report comes out, I'm hoping we'll get a more accurate timeline.

However, as soon as it was reported missing, a massive search and rescue operationg was started. Complicating the search efforts were the fact that the submersible seemed to have no type of emergency distress locator beacon (I'm not sure what the precise nautical terminology would be for this).

The search included visual searching of the surface, dropping buoys with microphones, and ROVs (unmanned remote operated vehicles, deep sea robots operated by crew on ships at the surface) searching the floor, and probably some other stuff I'm forgetting. Deep sea radar etc etc, every tool they had access to.

The search and rescue concluded on Thursday (June 22, 2023) around midday, when they definitively found pieces of the destroyed submersible's pressure vessel (the part of the submersible that held pressure and kept the people safe and alive) in a debris field, approximately 1600 feet away from the Titanic.

The destroyed pressure vessel and reports from the Navy on hearing sounds consistent with implosion at the time the Titan lost contact indicates that the submersible underwent what is being called a 'catastrophic implosion'.

It is now an investigation and recovery operation, while they try to figure out what exactly went wrong.

The five men in the sub are dead. In all likelihood, they died so quickly that their nervous system didn't have time to process what happened. What happened to their bodies during this was probably gory and kind of horrifying, but it's unlikely they experienced any awareness of this.

There were five extremely wealthy men on the submersible- they were not all billionaires, but those that weren't were worth hundreds of millions of dollars. If you want a rough sketch of their biographies, there's a link here. Other than them being pretty wealthy, who they are doesn't play that much into what I want to talk about, so I don't feel the need to go into it right now. (Again, as more information comes out, I may come back for another swing.)

So, my complaint. The number of times I saw a news interview with an expert that went like this is not small:

news host interviews deep ocean expert of some variety (who is not involved in rescue)

host asks expert what chances are that the dudes are alive and will be recovered alive

expert, being honest, says something like 'slim to none'

host responds with some amount of sincere-seeming disappointment, then after interview, pivots to the ongoing search for the definitely still alive people

There were news programs with clocks counting down how much theoretical oxygen was left. There were frequent updates to news stories with nothingburgers of additions, just to pad it out. It was, if they were alive at that moment, fucking ghoulish. That they were dead makes it even more horrible.

And I cannot emphasize enough how many experts said, to generalize and paraphrase here: "Unless they are found bobbing on the surface in the next n hours, they are dead. Even if they are alive right this minute, on the bottom of the ocean, there is no hope to rescue them in time."

This is not a failure of any of the rescue entities involved, by the way. The environment they were presumed to be in- 4000 meters under sea level- is so extreme that there are very few vehicles in the world with the capability of even getting to that depth. Like, 10 or less. As far as I know, none of them are designed to do any kind of deep sea rescue- which would have involved carefully scooping up or netting the Titan and hauling it up very slowly. There's no way to transfer personnel between ships at this depth, and the Titan had the largest passenger allowance at this depth, afaik. Like, the odds were incredibly, vanishingly small that these men would live.

The media, at large, never ever really allowed that to change the way they talked about this story or treated the participants in the story. At around 11 am or noon (central daylight time) on Thursday I saw them talking about how 'oxygen is critical'.

Oxygen was critical 24 hours prior. Even by the most generous of expectations, they were out of breathable air. Given how, to put it mildly, janky the submersible seemed to have been, there was absolutely no guarantee that they had even the 96 hours that Oceangate claimed.

Their likelihood of being rescued alive from the ocean floor was minimal on Monday. By Thursday, they were dead- again, unless they were found on the surface somewhere and had managed to carefully preserve their air somehow, they were already dead.

The media didn't really allow for the reality of the situation to be clear until Oceangate and the USCG came out and said 'yeah, they're dead'.

"Well, what's the problem with that?" you might ask. "The United States Coast Guard was the one who was saying it was a rescue up until that point."

Sure. That's their job. Their job is to treat it like an urgent rescue until it is certain that it is not. A significant amount of what they do is to rescue people from doing damnfool things in the water, and keeping hope alive until they find bodies, or evidence thereof. They were doing exactly what they should be doing.

(Whether they do this to this extent for everybody lost at sea is another conversation that's absolutely worth having, as well as their role in border patrol, but I have no bone to pick with the USCG in this particular instance. They did their all until they could do no more, that's the whole point of them, this is how they're supposed to operate.)

The media was not doing what they should be doing. There's an old quote somewhere that I think is just a journalism truism (everyone I've heard talk about it says their journalism professor said it)- if someone tells you it's raining, and someone else tells you it's not, your job isn't to report that, your job is to go outside and see if it's wet.

James Cameron- director of the aforementioned Titanic movie, as well as being a Titanic and deep sea submersible expert, knew they were dead on Monday.

He reached out to some people, he found out that the mother ship lost contact with the crew as well as their location at the same instant, and that the Navy heard a sound consistent with an implosion at around that time.

The information that the Navy heard the implosion was not classified information- they heard it via a listening system that was declassified in the 90s, I believe. Like, I knew about the system just kind of casually because I know random Navy stuff. (My dad was in the Navy, it's mostly osmosis.)

The people on the scene were informed as soon as the Navy knew. (When that was, I'm not sure, except it was before Monday. Probably they had someone go back and listen to it and weren't actively monitoring it, but it's hard to say.)

The deep ocean submersible community knew, well enough that James Cameron could call a buddy and find out. He was telling people on Monday to raise a glass to them.

The media could have had this information, if they did not have it. Either they didn't want to know, or did know, and didn't say it. And I can't say for certain they were suppressing information, but I do know that they frequently downplayed any evidence that these people were dead.

I know on CNN they ran a story about FADOSS- the FlyAway Deep Ocean Salvage System- that was shipped out to Newfoundland. It arrived Wednesday afternoon. Description in the alt text, link here.

At the time this story was published, the people in the sub would have theoretically had less than 24 hours of breathable air. They hadn't even chartered a ship for the FADOSS, at this point. And the port in Newfoundland is hundreds of miles from the site. I'm not sure how many hours away but, like, hours away. I think I heard it's a 6 hour trip, but I'm not certain on that.

This system was referenced in the news as if it was going to be part of the rescue process. Very clearly, this was never going to happen. The quote, 'a process which can take a full day' is a mild understatement, here.

It could, theoretically, be done in 24 hours, but was much more likely to take longer, unless they had enough crew in Newfoundland to do round-the-clock welding.

The response to the question about recovering someone alive is a polite way of saying 'that's not what we do'. They were not part of the rescue operation and were never intended to be, as far as I can tell.

(If you're wondering what part the FADOSS is going to take in the recovery and investigation process, it's not. It's used to lift heavy objects off the floor, and the Titan broke into small enough pieces that the ROVs are believed capable of handling it. FADOSS is on its way back to wherever it is kept. I suspect it was brought out in the edge case that the submersible was found intact with dead crew, to retrieve the vessel whole, so that the families would have bodies to bury.)

Setting aside the 'oh they definitely blew up' news that seems to have been available the whole time, every single piece of evidence and expertise pointed to these people being dead, and yet the news persisted in sort of breathlessly (sorry) talking about the rescue efforts and how much time was left. They persisted in talking about how definitely still alive these people were until they could not do that anymore.

Other examples of this issue are the knocking thing. There were reports of some of the buoys picking up something that could be described as 'knocking'. Some said it was 'every thirty minutes' but we don't know how precise a measurement that was. As soon as they started talking about the knocking, I looked into it.

As it turns out, this is just a thing that happens. The sea is very noisy, and it's hard to determine the source of a sound. Some geological things sound manmade, vice versa. They had a lot of ships cooperating together to work the search area, it's possible that they were hearing noise from those, or something from an oil platform a jillion miles away, because noise travels far and is hard to pinpoint. They had this issue while searching for the sunken USS Thresher and it was one of the ships doing the searching. Given how many different moving parts there were in this search operation, it's hard to say what the knocking was. This is just a thing in the ocean, there's a lot of fuckin noise and experts can't always pinpoint it down in location or even what it might be.

This is why, even though they heard sounds that were consistent with implosion, at the time that the Titan lost total contact with the mother ship, it was still treated as if there was a live rescue operation. Because they couldn't be certain.

But the odds were extremely poor that these men were alive, and almost everybody involved knew that fairly early on. Again, the rescue operation had to go forward like they were looking for someone alive because that's how that works. The media, on the other hand, handled this in a very irresponsible way.

And, like, I know, news media is bad at being news is not some like hot new thing, I've just been building up frustration for days and so it had to come out somehow.

I'm not sure how much of this was just because they're very wealthy men- only one of whom I've ever heard of before- and how much of it was because it was a very bizarre and unique ongoing situation, how much of it was the intersection of that.

But pretty much everybody with enough knowledge to be worth talking to about this knew, like, Monday that even if they weren't dead right then, they were very unlikely to make it out alive, and watching the news wind a bunch of people up over the hopeful outcome was revolting.

Okay. We'll see if I can go 24 hours without talking about this. If you made it to the end of this absolute fucking novel, congratulations and/or I'm sorry.

#oceangate #titan submersible #this is just a personal rant about the media involved

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citadelsanchez · 2 years

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hahah what if Rick gets drunk and reader if taking care of them and he just slips that he likes them? and compliments them and just kinda goes off?(then denies anything happened the next day when they ask?) I just think about that a lot tbh sdkj

You got it! Wrote this at 3 am and couldn't think of a better bit than the hair thing, go easy on me asfjkxc. Also did it in y/n fashion again. Hope you like it!

~~~~~~~~~

"Alright Rick, I may be alone in this opinion, but the way you're staggering and drooling on the floor tells me you need that bottle confiscated" you sigh, miserably attempting to snatch the alcohol from Rick's fingers.

"Hey s-s-sh-ut the fuck up Y/N, y-y-y-you're being ridiculous. I'm a-alwaaays drunk" Rick retorted, successfully pulling away the bottle away. He laughs before teetering again, placing his hands on your shoulders to balance himself.

You look up at him with a slightly annoyed expression. "Rick, I've been trying to get you to bed for 2 hours. Please just stop being stubborn and follow me."

He pokes your shoulders playfully now, "Oooooh, really? Into bed for w-what cause I think I'm down."

"Into bed for my sanity, please."

He scoffed in response, beginning to walk off into the Smiths' living room but knocked over the table near the wall instead.

"Rick, Jesus Christ," you tug on his arm and he bends down slightly, clearly fighting sleep to the best of his ability. He puts a hand in your hair and starts twirling it in his fingers slowly.

"How do youuu get it s-so bouncy?"

You're confused for a second and then stifle a laugh, as you've never seen Rick this vulnerable and... affectionate? before.

"I- uh, it's just volumizer" you respond.

He looks at you still in a dazed wondrous state. "It's pretty. And I-I don't like that wo-ORRD but you know, I guess I co-could tell you that now. I always n-notice it firSSTT when I see you," he burps out.

You feel a slight warmth in the pit of your stomach. Rick has always been playfully flirty with you here and there, but has never expressed any kind of genuine sentiment like this before.

"Thanks Rick, that's.. that's sweet of you."

"I-I-I mean like I actually think you're cu-cute like a little baby, i-it's weird," he goes on.

"Okay, tell me more, but let's go in here okay?" You gently place your arm under his and steer him towards his bedroom. He rolls his head to the side and gives a small "okay" in response.

You manage to drag him into his room and take his lab coat and pants off and get him onto the bed. "Ugh, see wh-what I mean, it's sick..ening" Rick slurs out, staring up at you.

"What?" You ask, sitting on the bed beside him.

"H-how fucking caring you are. G-god I just want to be around you aalllllll the time. I always hope it'll-it'll rub off on me b-but I don't think anyone could be as go-good natured as you."

Your cheeks burn red as you study his face, his head still bobbing while blinking at you slowly.

"A-and I know that I'll deny this sh-shit later but Y/N you're a saint. B-beautiful and delicate. And I've s-seen a lot o-o-of fine specimens b-but I think you're the truuee definition of a goddess."

Your mouth hangs agape a little as you realize that he's serious. He's not just spouting some speech, he's telling the truth. The unfiltered truth. Only drunk Rick does that, and you've only seen it twice before.

"Um, well- thank you Rick, you're uh, not so bad yourself. I've always-"

"Hey, shh, this was my confession t-time, not yours. J-just lay with me, pleaaseee.." you can see his eyes start to flutter shut as he holds an arm out to invite you into an embrace.

You lay your head on his chest and he wraps his arm tightly around your body before you both drift into a deep sleep.

----

In the morning, you awake to an empty bed and glance at the alarm clock on the bedside table. It reads 11:54 am. You're beginning to recall last night's events as Rick walks in, fully dressed. He clears his throat.

"So you wanna tell me why uh, you're in my bed?"

You snicker at this. "Oh, Rick, you suddenly don't remember?"

"Remember what? If we screwed, th-then clearly not. Must not have been that impressed sweetie."

"Nope, we didn't. Buuuut, you did basically praise me all night" you smirk.

"Not a chance," Rick laughs and crosses his arms sternly.

"You did though. And I know that for the smartest man in the universe, your memory isn't that bad. Even in a hangover," you tease now, desperate for him to admit to his vulnerability.

He sits on the bed beside you and leans to get in your face. "Are you that desperate for my attention that you're making things up?"

"Hmm, I guess so. Anyway, I've got to go get dressed and volumize my hair, we'll talk later," you smile as you get up to leave.

Before you go, you catch a small look of shock on his face and a quiet "shit" escape his mouth.

#rick sanchez #rick sanchez x reader #rick and morty #rick sanchez x oc #rick and morty season 6

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oliversrarebooks · 1 month

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we'll make great pets

This bit of pet whump was partially inspired by Stray by @sowhumpshaped and by my innate desire to write protagonists who are kind of assholes.

tw: pet whump, dehumanization, brainwashing, involuntary drugging, captivity, abuse, dystopia, whumper turned whumpee

"Morning, Scout," said Max in a groggy mumble as he ruffled his pet's hair. His pet looked up at him with adoring eyes, as always. It was curled up safe and warm in its nest under a pile of weighted and woolen blankets, and Max couldn't help but be momentarily jealous. He'd love to slide back into his warm bed, but the driver would be here soon and his dad would kill him if he kept skipping out on his stupid business classes.

Pets didn't have to worry about any of that. They didn't have to worry about boring-ass college lectures or overdue papers or their parents riding their ass about the family legacy. All they had to do was eat, sleep, and obey their masters. Must be nice, in a way.

"Here, I brought you breakfast." As Scout sat up, yawning adorably and rubbing the sleep out of its eyes, Max tossed it a breakfast packet in one of its favorite flavors, egg and cheese. Max always bought it the good stuff, premium pet food with lots of protein and all-natural, high quality ingredients. His pet ate as good as he did, most days. Scout happily slurped up the food as Max refilled its water bottle and dumped its pills out into his hand.

"Down the hatch, boy," he said, popping the pills into his pet's mouth and quickly following it up with the water bottle before it could spit the pills out. Scout was well-behaved, having come from one of the finest pet facilities on the Eastern seaboard, but it was sometimes a little fussy about its pills. Max's dad used to slap and yell at the poor thing as though it were capable of knowing better. It had been a lot happier since accompanying Max to college, several hours away from his parents. So had Max.

With his pet all settled, Max turned to his closet to dress himself. Half his clothes lay in a pile on the floor where he'd tossed them aside, dissatisfied, the other day. The housekeeper wouldn't be coming until tomorrow so he'd just have to live with that. "I can't believe how trash all these clothes are. I gotta go shopping. Don't you think so, Scout?"

Scout nodded from his bed.

"Exactly. You get it. Just don't tell Dad how much I've been spending. It's our little secret, okay?" He ruffled Scout's hair as it laughed softly. Scout rarely ever spoke, much less gave up any of Max's secrets. It was a bad habit of Max's to talk to Scout as if it were a person, especially when no one else was around. Scout had been a birthday present for Max's seventh birthday, back when he'd been his parents' great hope instead of their great disappointment, and he couldn't help spoiling it a bit.

Max finally settled on a 90s inspired outfit with a bold floral print, paired with chunky jewelry and an oversized watch. He admired himself in the mirror, slicking back his hair and appreciating his flashy fashion sense.

The next thing was to delve into Scout's clothes to find something complementary. Scout's wardrobe was nearly as large as Max's, and far less constrained, since no one expected a pet to be dressed in the latest designer fashion. Max was free to outfit it in thrift store finds and homemade altered goods, soaking up the compliments he received on his picture perfect pet.

Fashion was his passion, after all. His parents just didn't get it.

His phone was buzzing insistently by the time he finished up with Scout, and so he grabbed a granola bar, clasped Scout's leash on, and dashed out the door to the driver. Scout lay its head in Max's lap in the backseat of the black SUV as Max checked his schedule for the day. He groaned and suppressed the urge to fling his phone out the window when he saw his entire morning would be filled with Economics 300 and Business Negotiations II.

Screw it, he'd just sleep through those. He could scrape a C no matter what he did, and Cs got degrees.

In the afternoon he had -- ugh, he'd forgotten that mandatory pet testing was today. It was required each year from everyone between the ages of sixteen and twenty-four, designed to make sure the pets occurring naturally in the human population were found and given appropriate treatment. It was, of course, trivially easy to pass if you were a person, but it was over three hours long and insanely dull.

Max had always passed with flying colors, of course. It was ludicrous to even test the heir and scion of the Parkington Corporation, as if he could be a pet, but it was federal law and apparently not possible to buy his way out of it.

His little brother, the obnoxiously hardworking golden child who could do no wrong in their mother's eyes, had passed his first pet test just last week, and of course their mother had thrown a disproportionate celebration. Max never got a cake and presents for something as silly as passing a pet test, that was for sure, but darling little Robbie was a genius no matter what he did.

Like it was so hard to prove that you're human.

A soft noise stirred Max out of his thoughts. Scout was looking up at him with a concerned expression. "It's all right, boy," Max soothed, running his fingers through his pet's silky hair. "Just gonna be a crap day. You don't have anything to worry about."

The car pulled up to the main building of McKinnon University, just a few blocks away from the Parkington Building her family had donated a few generations back. Fifteen minutes and one purchase of an enormous latte later, Max was dropping off Scout at one of the university's pet lounges. Pets weren't allowed in educational settings, of course, as too much mental stimulation was bad for them. It was a shame, as Max always found it easier to focus with Scout curled at his feet.

"Be a good boy, Scout," he said, ruffling its hair and handing it its favorite plush cow. "I'll be back soon."

Scout leaned into the touch with a dazed smile on its face. Its morning pills always made it drowsy, so Max knew it'd probably sleep most of the morning. They could go out for a walk in the park once Max was done with classes and his test, maybe play some frisbee, get some exercise.

With no small reluctance, Max left his pet behind and trudged to the lecture hall, ignoring the dirty look from the professor as he took his seat ten minutes late.

The classes seemed to drag on forever, as Max floated in and out of sleep, only catching bits and pieces of his professor's droning and powerpoint presentations before his eyes slid shut again. It didn't matter, none of this mattered. His parents' company was mostly run by the board anyway. He'd just let them handle all that shit while he built his fashion empire, his haute couture gracing celebrities at the Met Gala. Clothes that would make waves, clothes that would make people smile, clothes that would make people look good and feel good. What was even the point of being young and rich if he couldn't have fun?

Finally, Max was released from his last morning class, having learned precisely nothing. He had enough time to grab a bite to eat before the pet test, so he picked up Scout from the pet lounge and headed to a campus cafe that made a great quinoa bowl. He needed the protein and greens if he was gonna stay focused during the godawful pet test.

Since he had a few quiet moments to himself, he pulled out his sketchbook and began drawing out some ideas for a portfolio. Seeing the pet lounge this morning had got him thinking of comfortable and basic looks -- oversized sweaters, leggings, pastels, messy bedhead. Maybe a touch of academia, too, with chunky glasses and pleated skirts. One good thing about campus was that there was never a shortage of people and clothes to draw.

"Hey, Maxie!" Nathan was calling him from clear across the quad, his voice almost as loud as his jacket. He was, unfortunately, one of Max's closest friends since grade school, as their families lived in the same area and they went to the same vacation spots a lot. "Nice outfit. Love the colors."

"Thanks. Love the tiger print."

Nathan laughed. "You hate it, don't even pretend you don't. Hey, Scout." He knelt down to the pet's level as Scout nuzzled against him. "Want some chocolate, boy?"

"Hey, don't feed my pet human food. It's not good for it."

"A little chocolate's not gonna kill it. It's not a dog, you know." Nathan plopped in the chair across from Max as Scout happily munched the chocolate bar. "Whatcha drawing?" He pulled Max's sketchbook from his hands without warning. "Oh, nice. She looks awfully cozy for a stick-thin supermodel."

"That's the idea," said Max, taking his sketchbook back. "I was thinking of the aesthetics behind places like pet lounges and schools and --"

"Excuse me, can I have a moment of your time, please?"

They looked up to see a student with mouse-brown hair and wardrobe to match, clutching a sky-blue clipboard. Max groaned inwardly. A fucking survey or petition or some crap.

"Um, I'm with the Student Ethics for Pets Association..."

Of course it was SEPA. They infested the campus year-round, but they were always out in full force when there was a pet-related event, like the mandatory testing or the annual Pet Festival.

"I'm not interested," said Max. He agreed with the ethical treatment of pets, obviously, and if that was what SEPA was about, he'd be all for it. But they weren't just against mistreatment of pets, they were against pets entirely, even going so far as to claim that some pets were humans who had been unfairly forced into pet facilities.

"Most pet owners mean well, but they don't know the realities of the cruel tactics facilities use to train pets," she said, trying to push a pamphlet at Max. "Dangerous drug cocktails that result in intelligence and memory loss, brainwashing devices to ensure compliance, restraints that cause permanent joint damage..."

Max couldn't help his blood starting to boil. "I don't know where you think I got my pet from, but it wasn't some cheap pet mill in the slums that tortures pets. Scout lives better than I do. Does it look mistreated to you?"

"That's not the only problem with pet ownership. There's also the mandatory pet tests. How do we know that people aren't getting caught up in the inhumane pet treatments due to a flawed test?"

"Yeah, right. The pet test is super easy to pass if you're not a pet." Down by his feet, Scout was pressing against his legs, clearly stressed and whimpering. If this kept up, he'd have to Tag Scout, and he hated to do it. "For someone who cares about pet ethics, you sure don't care that you're upsetting my pet."

"All I'm saying is --"

"All I'm saying is get the hell out of here with your propaganda and leave me alone."

"Fine, I can take a hint," she said, turning on her heel and flouncing away.

Max scowled after her. SEPA was such a ridiculous organization. They would try to reel students in with reasonable-sounding arguments about saving abused pets and then start with their radical bullshit. It happened to gullible students all the time, and they'd go and look like idiots chaining themselves to pet training facilities and showrooms. "Friggin' ridiculous," he said, looking over at Nathan, who was watching the girl leave. "Nathan?"

"Huh? What'd you say?"

"Nathan, you don't actually believe any of that, do you?"

"What, SEPA stuff? Nah, not really," said Nathan, taking a long drink of his soda. "But don't you ever think about it?"

"Think about what?"

"What if the test is wrong sometimes? What if actual people get carted away to some pet facility and treated like a pet?" he said. "Wasn't there that girl who got taken from here a couple years back...?"

"Oh yeah, Victoria... Victoria what's-her-face. Her dad owned some tech startup, right, and it tanked after his daughter turned out to be a pet. That's gotta be super embarrassing for her family."

"Yeah, but... what if it's actually wrong sometimes?"

"You're not seriously worried that you're gonna fail the pet test, are you?" Max laughed. "C'mon, that doesn't happen. That pet probably knew deep down what it was. It was just pretending to be human 'cause it was afraid of getting caught. That's why they need the training and stuff, right?"

"I guess," said Nathan.

"Scout failed its test when it was my age, too," he said. "But, like, it was obviously failing out of college, getting super stressed all the time, crying in class... because it's hard for pets to pretend to be human. Don't you think the other way would be messed up, too, if we forced pets to just pretend to be human forever?"

"Yeah, that would be pretty messed up. They wouldn't be happy like that. I just don't like having to take this stupid test every year."

"Only a couple more years for us and we'll be done with it." Max's phone alarm went off. "Oh damn, we'd better get going if we're going to make it to the test on time. I don't wanna have to take the makeup test." They stood up, but Scout remained on the ground, curled up into a ball and whining. "Scout?"

"Is it okay?"

"It's upset 'cause of that crazy girl from SEPA. You can go on ahead, I've gotta get Scout calmed down," he said.

"Alright. Good luck on the test."

"Yeah, you too," he said, as though they needed it. He crouched down to eye level with his pet. "Hey, Scout, what's the matter?"

Scout flinched, shrinking away from Max. That was really strange. He hadn't acted like that with anyone but Max's dad.

"You gotta relax, boy. It's okay. I'm not gonna let some SEPA person liberate you or whatever," he said. "They let pets in the test room, but only if you can be calm. If you can't calm down, I'll have to Tag you."

Max should've know that would only upset Scout more. Scout backed away as best as it could, pulling at the leash, starting to actually cry. Shit. He couldn't leave Scout at the pet lounge like this, either. He didn't have a choice.

"All right, then, Scout, kneel."

Scout shook its head rapidly. "No," it said, almost too quietly to hear.

"C'mon, don't be like that. This is for your own good. Kneel."

It knelt down in front of Max, still teary and whimpering, as Max fished a Tag out of his bag. They were little disposable things that you clipped to a pet's neck that made them real quiet and docile for a few hours, perfect for calming agitated pets. They were also good for situations like vet visits and long flights, since it made the pet unable to form clear memories. Max bet the SEPA girl thought Tags were abusive, too, even though they were literally to help pets not be traumatized. Max normally tried to avoid Tagging Scout much, since he liked his pet to be active and happy.

Scout shut its eyes and bent over slightly so that Max could attach the Tag, a forlorn look on its face as he pressed the little disc just over its spine. "There you go, boy. See, that's not so bad, is it?" He pet Scout gently as the Tag's effects kicked in, its expression going glassy and vacant, a dazed smile replacing its earlier distress. "C'mon, we gotta get going or we're going to be late."

Max was glad he had resorted to Tagging Scout when the pet curled up safely under his feet in the testing room. It wasn't that Max was nervous about the pet test, but it was boring as hell, and having Scout there helped him focus.

A big portion of it was just a bunch of bullshit psychological questions, which Max breezed through without thinking about them. Then there were questions about current events, word puzzles, a bunch of really weird abstract stuff... but obviously Max was human, so he was sure that his answers must be the right ones. He'd definitely know if he were a pet.

Finally, the test was over, and the entire auditorium of people had to be held there while the tests were scored electronically, so that they could take any pets aside. Max whipped out his phone and fully absorbed himself in his feeds.

"Mr. Parkington."

"Huh?" He looked up to see the test proctor standing by his desk. "Hey, yeah, what's up? Was there a problem with my test or something?"

"Could you come with us, please?" The proctor gestured at the exit door.

"What...?" No, it couldn't be. He couldn't have failed. There was probably some kind of mistake with his form or the grading machine. "Is there a problem?"

"There's no problem," she said curtly. "We just need you to come with us to discuss your test."

Max glanced around the auditorium. Everyone was staring at him, and not in the way he preferred. Well, no wonder. The stupid goddamn proctor was making it sound like he failed his pet test, in front of half the campus. He'd never live this down. "So was my test form unreadable or something...?" he said, hoping to salvage the situation.

She was implacable. "You need to come with us, Mr. Parkington."

He groaned, fighting down the urge to cause an even bigger scene. The people around him were already chattering about it. His parents were going to be absolutely furious about the rumors that would fly, as though it were his fault. They'd sue the school, no doubt, but by then it'd be too late. Goddamn it.

"Fine, let's get this over with. C'mon, Scout." He chucked his phone into his bag and picked it up, tugging Scout's leash. It seemed nervous, resisting a bit, even though there was no way the Tag could've worn off yet, but it followed Max out of the room just the same. They were led out of the auditorium and into a small side office, where there were a couple of cops from the Federal Pet Agency waiting, the ones who had supervised the test taking.

"We have good news for you, Mr. Parkington," said the proctor, taking up a seat behind a metal desk.

"Good news? What kind of good news could --"

"Your pet test returned positive."

"What? That's it? You humiliated me in front of everyone to tell me that I passed? No shit, of course I'm a person."

The two agents glanced at each other.

"No, Mr. Parkington, I don't think you understand. I mean that we have positively identified you as a pet. You will no longer be required to act as a human, and your treatments can start today." Her smile didn't reach her eyes. "Isn't that good news?"

"...What?" Max felt as though the floor was dropping out from under him. "What the hell? What are you even talking about?"

"Your treatment can start right away, so if you'll just go with these agents --"

"What the fuck?!" he said, no longer caring about making a scene. Scout whimpered at his feet. "What the fuck are you talking about? Is this a prank? Is this some kind of viral stunt? Because I will definitely sue you to have the video taken down."

"It isn't a prank, and there is no video recording. Your test results are very clear cut."

"The hell they are! I've taken my test every year and I've never failed."

"I'm afraid you're mistaken about that."

"What do you mean by that?"

The proctor sighed and slapped a thick manila envelope onto the desk. "Your previous tests -- your real ones. Each one clearly showing that you are a pet."

"That's impossible! Then why --"

"There's a little known federal program that allows test results to be... deferred."

Max's stomach clenched. "Deferred?"

"It's an expensive option, and not widely publicized, but it allows families to suppress undesirable results for a year, while they get things in order," she said. "In your case, your family spent a great deal of money for seven years to delay the inevitable. However, this year they did not enroll in the program, so this is your final test result."

"No. No, that's not -- you're lying! You're making that up. There's no way. There's no way I failed any pet test, or that my parents paid money to cover it up. No way."

"It's all right," she said in a sickeningly condescending tone. "I know this must be very confusing, and that you've obviously been suffering without your necessary treatment for so long..."

"I'm not suffering!" He slammed his hands on the desk. The agents stepped closer, but the proctor was unfazed.

"Your grades in everything but your fashion drawing classes are --"

"I am not suffering because I'm bad at the business classes my dad forced on me!" Burning with frustration, humiliation, and a growing ember of dread, Max pulled his phone out of his pocket. "Actually, I'm going to call my dad right now. He'll put an end to this."

He was somewhat surprised that no one in the room stopped him from using his phone, until he turned it on and found no signal. "What the -- c'mon, you stupid thing --"

"Your phone service has been terminated," the proctor said. "Your parents have already been contacted by our team. They have been aware of this possibility and have made prior arrangements for you."

"No." Max's throat felt dry and his arms heavy as he dropped the phone. "There's no way. Even my asshole dad wouldn't let me be taken as a pet. I'm the heir --"

Wait.

The realization hit Max with the force of a semi-truck. The heir to Parkington Corporation. With Max out of the way, no longer a person, that heir would be --

His brother. His golden brother Robbie who could never do wrong. If they suffered the temporary humiliation of letting Max be hauled away as a pet, Robbie would be their only child. It wasn't just a matter of writing Max out of the will -- they wanted their un-favorite son to be out of the picture permanently.

Would they really go that far? The serious-looking proctors and agents in the room were a strong indication that they would.

And for the first time, Max felt true fear. This might not be a prank or a misunderstanding or an inconvenience. He might not be able to call his lawyers or his family to get him out of trouble. Even if it was a mistake, if he let them get their hands on him and process him as a pet... could you even come back from that? Wouldn't it be too late?

"I'm not going to let you take me anywhere," he said, inching towards the door. "I'll go borrow a phone and call my lawyer."

One of the agents immediately moved to block the door, unsurprisingly, as the proctor stood up. "As I was saying, your parents were aware of this possibility and have made prior arrangements for you."

"What arrangements?"

"You're going to be sent to the finest pet treatment facility on the Eastern seaboard, one that produces only high-end luxury pets. You're very fortunate."

Max swallowed hard. That sounded like the facility where they had purchased Scout for him. The thought of going through the same treatment as Scout...

That's when he realized that Scout was no longer at his feet. Instead, it was kneeling in front of one of the agents, having its head scratched. "Aww, who's a good boy?" he said. "It's you! Yes, you are..."

"Hey, Scout, what are you doing? Get away from him!"

Scout didn't even respond to him.

"Don't worry about Scout. We're going to send it to the same facility where we're sending you, for retraining and rehoming. It's a very good pet and I'm sure it'll find an excellent new home."

Scout had been custom trained to Max's childhood tastes. They had grown up together, inseparable. And now Scout was going to have its memories of him wiped, ready to be sent to a new owner...

And he was next.

"Scout. Scout, c'mon," Max pleaded, desperation in his voice. "You're not going with them. You're going with me. C'mon, Scout."

Scout had always been the most docile and agreeable of pets, always listening to Max, following at his heels and coming at his beck and call. And yet now it steadfastly ignored Max as though he were not there.

"Scout!" Max didn't want to go near the agents, so he stood a few feet away from his pet. "Scout, listen!"

Finally, Scout turned and looked at him. It opened its mouth, then closed it again. Finally, it smiled. It wasn't the vacant smile from being Tagged or the excited smile when they went out together or the sleepy smile it had going to bed at night. No, this smile seemed almost... malicious.

"I hope we can play together when you've been trained," Scout said.

Max felt the world spinning around him. Even his pet thought he was a pet. This couldn't be happening, it couldn't.

An agent was approaching him in his daze. "Now be a good boy and come with us."

"No!" He jerked away from the agent's hand. He had to get out of here. He couldn't let them take him. He had to escape, find someone who understood. Maybe that crazy girl from SEPA. Maybe...

"You'll feel so much better once you've been treated," said the agent on the other side of him. "Don't resist."

"Like hell!" Max pulled his arm free of the agent's grasp and tried to barge between them, only to be met with sturdy arms knocking him backwards. While physically fit, he was no fighter and no match for two highly trained federal agents. In a minute he was been forced to his knees with his arms pinned behind his back, restrained. "Let me go!" he screamed as he thrashed. "Let me go right now!"

"The pet is resisting. It'll need to be Tagged," said one agent to the other, who nodded and pulled out an all-too-familiar flat black disc.

"No! No, don't! It's illegal to Tag a person!" said Max, knowing it was futile.

"This is for your own good." One agent held him down as the other attached the tag. He could feel the cool plastic against his skin and the bite of small needles piercing his skin, a cool and numb sensation as the Tag took hold.

The world blurred around him as a kind of dazed drowsiness took hold of his body. "No... it's not..." he slurred.

His head lolled to the side as the agents hauled him up between them, keeping a firm grip on his arms. A distant part of him still wanted to put up a fight, but he felt so far away... so out of it... so strangely calm and peaceful. He blinked, and he was already out in the hallway. The agents were shooing away the students who tried to crowd around them and shove phones in his face. This was going to be all over social media. His parents would be so mad...

...no, they wouldn't. They knew this was going to happen. There was no one coming to rescue him, not even his dad's money. Max tipped his head forward and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to avoid the crowd's gaze.

"Maxie? Maxie, what the hell? What the hell, man?" said a familiar loud voice.

"Nathan...?" He could just pick out Nathan's loud jacket in the crowd. "Help..." he said feebly. "I'm not a pet... tell them..."

"Holy shit." Nathan was rooted to the spot. He didn't seem to be moving to help Max at all as he was dragged away.

"Nathan...!"

Nathan pulled out his phone, took a picture, and then disappeared into the crowd.

The agents dragged him through the double glass doors of the auditorium to a black van waiting in the parking lot. Max couldn't find it in him to put up any resistance as he was loaded into the back seat and the doors were closed and locked. His head hit the window as he looked out at his college campus for possibly the last time.

It felt so unreal. It still felt like something that couldn't possibly be happening to him.

Would he really be turned into a pet...?

No... they'd figure out he was a person before it was too late. They had to.

#whump #whump writing #pet whump #dehumanization #brainwashing #drugging #kidnapping #dystopia

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someplace-darker · 8 months

Text

In The Static | Ted Lasso

Pairing: Ted Lasso x reader (no y/n) Wordcount: 2.1k Warnings: panic attack/talks of panic attacks, vague mentions of trauma. That's about it I think, it's a touch angst and hurt/comfort I suppose. Fluff. Summary: Ted thought he was past his panic attacks until he encounters another, and you follow him to make sure he's okay. A/N: "now jay" you might be saying "wasn't the last thing you posted smut almost a year ago?" and the answer is yes. But i've recently become insanely attached to Ted Lasso, and I dipped my toe into writing more than a wip. SO here's my middle aged white man of the month. Enjoy :)

“REFEREE!!!” Keeley stands with a force that causes her to latch onto your arm to keep from falling forward. It continues to astound you that for such a tiny lady, she really contains an insane amount of spunk. One of the opposing team’s men had just slid Sam’s legs out from under himself, causing him to land hard on his shoulder. The game had been a rough one so far, more aggressive and bitter than most. Richmond had been respectful at first (as per usual) but the second their opponents had started playing violent and dirty, that changed.

Roy and Beard were obviously shouting and pointing angrily, though you couldn’t make out what they were saying from your seat in the box. Ted, however, was standing stiffly with his balled fists shoved into the pockets of his Richmond zip-up. You can feel that something is off. Even if you can’t see his face, you know him well enough to read his body language. There’s mere minutes left in the game and the teams are tied.

Rebecca is already standing and gathering her belongings to head back in, gesturing for the lot of you to follow. That’s exactly what you begin to do before the crowd goes ape-shit, jumping from their seats and screaming so loud it makes your head thrum.

“ROJAS INTERCEPTS THE KICK AND PASSES TO TARTT AND JUST LIKE THAT-”

You turn just in time to watch Jamie kick the ball into the net, the stadium erupting in cheers that shake the ground.

“AFC RICHMOND TAKES ANOTHER VICTORY 2-1 IN A SHOCKING LAST SECOND SCORE”

Keeley, Higgins, and Rebecca rejoice, grabbing at each other in shock. Placing your fingers between your lips you let out a piercing whistle, jumping up and down as thousands of chants echo. You look down to your coaches, expecting to see all three soaking in the sweet relief of not gaining another loss. Instead, you see Ted darting for the locker room, head down with his phone held two inches from his face. It was obvious to you that he was trying to use it as a cover.

“I’ll meet back with you guys later, I’ve gotta check something real quick.”

They smile and wave you off, relishing in the buzzing excitement clearly felt throughout the facility. As much as you wish you could join them in celebration, you were pretty sure Ted needed you more. So you slip through the small crowds with ease, having much practice during your time with Richmond, taking the back staircase to the locker room hallway.

At first you check his office, finding only his jacket laying on the floor. The second spot you search is the right one, opening the door to darkness. You almost turn and leave but a staggered breath gives him away.

“Ted?” you whisper, stepping into the boot room and closing the door gently. He sniffles almost silently and hums in response, curling in on himself when the lights flicker on at your touch.. You’ve never seen him look so small before, his entire body condensed into half of his height in the corner of the room, the sight moving you to shut the lights back off for his sake.

“Hey,” you murmur softly, walking over to kneel in front of him. He has his head placed between his knees, hands on the back of head with his fingers intertwined tightly. As much as you know of his panic attacks, you’ve never been present for one. Something tells you he tends to keep it that way with everyone around him.

However, you’re well versed with them yourself.

“I’m gonna sit beside you, but I won’t touch you unless you say it’s okay.”

You lower yourself onto the ground, the floor cold beneath your already freezing ass. England's weather was not kind to the warm blooded. Ted doesn’t lift his head all the way, simply angles it towards you just enough for an eye to peek out from behind his arm. He looks at you with the gaze of a wounded puppy, eyes red and wet, smeared with warm tears.

The silence that follows is deafening, a faint ringing the only thing you hear. Ted looks like he wants to say something, but thinks better of it. It’s not like you can blame him. The last time he opened up to someone he considered close about his panic attacks, it ended up plastered on every magazine and tabloid across the country. Trust within himself and others had been fractured- not broken. No one could ever betray Coach Lasso enough to break that within him, it was fundamental to who he was as a person.

After a few more minutes of silence his foot slides over to yours, just barely nudging it. He lifts his head and sniffles, using his sleeve to wipe the mix of tears and snot off his face.

“I want to tell you about it, I do. I’m just… stuck. Feels like if I tell you, it’ll be too much,” he murmurs, keeping his foot pressed to yours.

“I understand, Ted,” you whisper. “I started having panic attacks before I was even a teenager. I’d been through things- rough things -and they plagued me for years.” He begins to unfurl himself, listening intently to every word you say, the blatant honesty and vulnerability easing his anxiety. “It took me a while to open up to anyone about them, let alone a therapist. I spent so long trying to hide them, that when I finally did get help I felt like a fake.”

Ted adjusts himself to sit up straighter, shimmying closer so your shoulders touch. You can tell he’s trying to be inconspicuous about it, but the man is known to be anything but subtle. Outside you can hear the boys begin filing into the hallway, headed for the locker room surely for some type of victory activity. Their shadows dance across the wall in the darkened boot room, slashed into segments by the blinds slanted slightly open. Both of you seemed to have held your breaths as they passed, because as soon as they’re gone there’s a simultaneous exhale of relief.

An amused breath comes from Ted, palm pressing from the corner of his eye to the tip of his cheekbone to wipe away the stray tears. He knocks his knee against yours and dares to glance at you, opening up enough to make eye contact. Here in this room, he looks more human than you think you’ve ever seen him. For the most part he keeps his mood insanely optimistic, tending to care more about others happiness than his own. It gave him an almost otherworldly bounce to his step and light to his eyes.

But now that he’s sat no more than two inches in front of you with puffy eyes and a chewed lip, Ted is just… a broken man.

“You’ll never be too much, Ted. It’s normal to feel stuck, and it’s okay to not be able to talk about it yet.” His eyes flick to your hand when you lift it towards him, a lifeline of trust, openness in the form of warm skin and an upward facing palm. Internal conflict tugs at his lungs, his breath hitching as he weighs his options for all of five seconds before taking your hand. You are someone Ted knows he can always find solace in.

Someone who he could spot in a crowd of thousands, someone who he will always seek out.

His other hand reaches to pat the top of yours, rubbing his thumb against your skin in soothing circles. A shuddered breath begins to pass his lips, but he smothers it to ashes with the cool press of a kiss to your wrist.

Humming amusedly at the feeling of his mustache tickling your skin, you lean your head on his shoulder, moving slightly as they lift with the intake of air into his lungs. “I suppose you’re right. I just feel bad that I haven’t spoken to you ‘bout it,” he tsk’s softly to himself, carefully navigating his brain for the right words.

“I was fine out there, y’know? I’ve been doin’ better, Sharon’s helped a lot. But it just got so loud, and everything felt out of my control- out of any of our boys’ control and I- I just couldn’t breathe. Tunnel vision, boom, just like that.”

You whisper encouragements softly under your breath, murmurs of ‘it’s okay’ and ‘you can keep going’ pushing him gently in the right direction. Voices can be heard from the locker room, loud cheering and chanting from the team acting as muffled background noise for Ted’s moment of vulnerability.

“After everything that happened with Nate, I learned to mask it a bit better I guess. That’s the fancy word Doc told me about,” the corner of his lips quirks up “I figured I’d be okay in here for a bit anyway, then you walked in.” Your brows furrow and you pull away from his shoulder, opening your mouth to apologize for intruding but he beats you to it.

“No, no, that sounded different than I meant. I am very glad that you found me here. I needed you even if I didn’t know it,” he traces the details of your face with his eyes, not stopping you when you move your head back down to his shoulder.

“I think you’ve worked on it so much quicker than you realize, Ted. It wasn’t that long ago, yeah? Healing and improving takes time, and it’s okay that it takes time. I certainly took my time,” you muse, channeling your own therapist’s word. “But I think it’s right on par with who you are, who I know you to be, that you got on it as fast as you did. Even if it was begrudgingly at first.”

“Yeah, Doc definitely had her work cut out.”

You laugh, normally at first but then Ted snorts and you both lose it, bodies bumping against each other with the shakes that come with post-meltdown laughs. Soon enough you’re both wiping away tears of a different variety, the air in the room much lighter than before. You take that moment to push yourself up and off the floor, lending a hand to Ted to pull him up.

“I am immensely proud of you, Coach Lasso. So is the team. You have a very large family backing you up, as unorthodox as said family is.” You take one step closer, hand still holding onto his, pressed between your bodies. Taking your free hand, you hold the side of his face and lean in to kiss his cheek, thumb stroking his jaw.

Ted presses into your lips, chasing your touch even when you turn to the door. Twisting the knob open you find Will standing there, boots tied by their laces hanging over his shoulder, hand outreached to grab the now absent handle.

He blinks at the two of you for a second, gaze one of vague shock, before curling his lips in an embarrassed smile and stepping out of the way.

“Not a word, Will,” you sing-song when he opens his mouth, pulling Ted down the hall to stand outside of the locker room door.

You can hear Roy in the middle of a somehow happy/angry sounding congratulation speech that only he is capable of, grinning and turning to face your Coach once more. “Now, get your butt in there and relish in the sweet taste of winning.”

“I mean, relish is pretty tasty-”

“Ted.”

“Yep,” Ted takes a deep breath and nods, squeezing your hand “you coming in with me?”

“I don’t want to intrude on your moment, Coach.”

He rolls his eyes exaggeratedly and pushes the door open, dragging you with him. The boys’ faces light up, immediately rushing to storm him, all reaching to touch him and jumping up and down. Their team song buzzing and bouncing along with them.

“WE’RE RICHMOND TILL WE DIE, WE’RE RICHMOND TILL WE DIE, WE KNOW WE ARE, WE’RE SURE WE ARE, WE’RE RICHMOND TILL WE DIE”

You slide past the group, safely reaching Roy and Beard without your feet being stomped on. The smile on your face is one of pure joy and contentment, not faltering when Beard slides to your side, bumping your elbow.

“Thanks,” he speaks, nodding towards Ted. It’s easy to know what he means immediately, always one to be of few words.

“No need to thank me,” you reply easily, watching your family bond even more “it’s what we do.”

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punsmaster69 · 1 month

Text

12/APR/20XX

i think that was my goal.

remember? the one i was mentionin' about twenty nine pages ago? i'd said something like...

"and when i achieve it?"

"...guess i'll finally close this book for good."

so, i'll count that to be my goal.

therapist agrees, so you can't get on me about that.

sharing inner thoughts was never something i'm great at. so much so that you might've forgotten that's what this was for.

can you believe that? s'posed to be a thought journal. daily mental-state evaluation.

ended up talking about my friends instead.

wasn't for me, i suppose.

...after some amount of pages, huh? geez.

[This calls attention to the fact that the book is much thicker than it was when it started. Seems instead of switching to another one, his journal just... gained pages.]

point is.

seems to me like a good place to stop things at.

i'll give you a final update, and we'll call it. alright?

——

breaking the news went as smoothly as if we'd entered the room and broke a vase on the floor instead. (undyne about did just that.)

the second calamity was when mettaton and my bro show up kinda late

holding hands.

turns out my bro is much more decisive than i am.

apparently it was mettaton first, then paps who decided after a few serious dates.

congrats to 'em.

been deflecting questions best i can all day from the announcements, so i was thankful my bro showing up like that took enough of the heat off me n' tori.

i...

can't stop smiling.

well- alright, that's a given.

but i mean this doofy grin i haven't kept up this long in ages.

i'm not even trying for this one.

all this talk about relationships, i think undyne's gotten excited. talking about marriage and all that. alphys has gone beet red.

grillby and the bar gave me a hell of a lot of pats on the back. i'd be bruised if i weren't bones.

if it wasn't that which would've bruised me, it definitely would have been the punch flowey gave me. the comment that earned me it?

"so..."

"this makes me your dad, right?"

he didn't take it well.

despite the petal-haver's apparent hatred... i think he's secretly glad that toriel's happy.

my bro sure took the news well.

granted, since he already thought me and her were dating, he just was happy for the public announcement.

"WAIT."

"DOES THIS MAKE ME AN UNCLE?!?"

"Are we gonna get another sibling??"

"WAIT, are we gonna get a SKELE-sibling?!?"

"whoa, slow down-"

"Frisk, NO??"

"Do not encourage this BONEHEAD to-"

"I think that is quite enough."

tori puts her foot down on that conversation.

living situations shouldn't change much for now, but maybe we'll figure out something else in the future. (staying with my bro. don't panic.)

concerns about my health have slowed down, as i've gotten more used to daily magic usage. noticed way less bad days recently, right? papyrus still insists on teaching me to use attacks better, so i've got that to look forward to. there might still be ups n' downs health-wise, but i'm confident in getting through 'em now.

paps is noticeably still somewhat anxious about it, fidgeting whenever everything is brought up. which is fair, but. still.

i'll get him a therapist like i've been seeing. an in-person one'll work better for him, i think.

not sure what else'll change, really. everything feels mostly the same.

other than (gasp) public handholding. (scandalous.) every time we're beside one another, tori's finding some form of physical contact.

that's different.

...in a good way.

right now, it looks like the aftermath of a wild party. friends knocked out in random spots; dangling half-off the couch or sprawled across the floor. i think frisk and i are the only ones still awake, since they wanted to put blankets on everyone.

"(Psst. Is one blanket enough?)"

they raise a large blanket in gesture with a questioning look.

i speak extra softly so i don't disturb toriel laying at my side, with her head on my shoulder and an arm across my torso; hand met with mine.

"(yep.)"

"(Kk.)"

frisk lays a blanket over me and tori. they stare contemplatively before speaking.

"....."

"Goodnight, Dad."

"...'night, kid."

welp.

guess that's it, huh?

....

i'm happy.

caring is nice.

———★

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐃

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live-laugh-lenney · 2 months

Note

he said recently in a side channel video that he had a cat ,,,, opinions on mini arthurtv cat meeting reader for the first time ⁉️

also i want to be a reoccurring anon i feel like i should have like a signature of an emoji

yes, yes to being a reoccurring anon! i've never had one before... do you want the honour of choosing the emoji yourself or shall i pick it?

it's a childhood pet.

a little kitten, from a rescue animal shelter on the island of jersey, that they had gotten because his younger sisters were always asking for a pet to have at home. a little kitten that he was never fussed about but grew to absolutely adore when she would trot into his room and take refuge on the end of his bed. a little kitten that was so loved and well-looked after with toys and treats.

so when arthur brought yn to jersey for the first time, to properly and formerly meet his family for the first time, the cat had been included in those introductions.

she's greeted by his younger sisters as they rush forward to greet her with a hug and a hello, the smell of a delicious roast in the oven that his step-dad was keeping an eye on, and the tightest hug from his mum as they finally met in person as opposed to facetime calls and pictures that were sent in their family group chat. accepting the offer of a cup of tea, a couple of biscuits, and answering his step-dad's question on if she wanted sprouts with her dinner or not.

"beware, there's probably a tiny predator on my bed."

yn stares at him in confusion as she follows him up the stairs, their luggage for the week ahead held tightly in his hands as he led her to where his childhood bedroom used to be. still holding a sense of his teenage years but with a slightly more adult-ish look to it... with a lot of neutral colours going on, plenty of family photos hung on the walls yet his sea-lion teddy bear sitting in between his two pillows at the head of the bed.

"this is the family cat," arthur smiles at the cat curled up on his duvet, snoozing away and blissfully unaware of the chaos that had only just happened upon her arrival, "she's pretty used to people, you know, in a house that has homed a lot of kids."

she giggles softly and crouches down at the end of his bed, resting her elbows on the edge of the bed as she dug her fingers gently into the tabby fur of the cat that was happily purring.

"she's so sweet."

"always seemed to have a soft spot for me," he sets their suitcases on the floor beneath his window and settles himself down on his bed, "i don't know why."

"she's not an idiot," yn grins cheekily at him and his cheeks flush a pink colour, "she knows a handsome man when she sees one."

she joins him on the bed, laying flat next to him and staring at the ceiling above her, taking in everything that was happening around her. how she was in the childhood bedroom of the man she's recently come to have an infatuation with, getting to know him on a much more deeper and personal level, maturing their relationship by going one step further and meeting his family. comforting, swallowed by the love his family had for each other, a homely feel to where she was spending the next week with him.

"i'm glad you decided to come with me," he says softly, turning his head and looking at her, "really glad."

"i'm glad you asked me to come with you," she responds and rolls onto her side, poking his shoulder with her fingertip, "next is my lot. are you ready for that?"

"from all the stories i've heard, i'm quite excited," he laughs and she situates herself comfortably against his body, head resting on his chest and a leg thrown over his, "the hour flight really takes it out of me, you know?"

she nods and yawns, as if on cue, and he snickers softly.

and it's not long before his cat joins them, except she chooses to lay against yn instead of arthur, and he finds it the sweetest thing. how she lays her head on yn's hand, stretched out and tucked ever so comfortably in the curve of her body, eyes closed in content and the purrs filling the room.

"she likes you."

"i take that as a win," yn grins tiredly, "i think i could cope with your family not liking me. i can win them over easy. but your cat? oh god."

"you're just too loveable," he says, "she knows a pretty girl when she sees one." xx

#arthurtv #arthurtv blurbs #arthurtv imagines #arthurtv headcannons #arthur frederick #arthur frederick blurbs #arthur frederick imagines #arthur frederick headcannons

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billys-pretty-babe · 6 months

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The Proposal

Pairing : Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader

Summary : Billy loves everything about you, besides one thing. Your last name, he's ready to replace it with Hargrove, he just needs to get you on board with it.

Warnings : Swearing, illuding smut at the end

Word count : 856

A/N : Dacre's engaged so Billy deserved to be engaged as well

October 1985

Billy laid beside you in his apartment in Anaheim. You had moved in over a month ago and he wouldn't have it any differently, he loved waking up next to you every morning and holding you as he slept, just to do it again the next day. Something has been irking Billy, the legal documents you sign, they always had your last name.

Sure, the two of you had only been together a mere ten months but in Billy's mind, the time didn't matter because he knew deep down that you were it for him. You read your book, eyes dancing across the page, brow furrowing slightly as you reread a paragraph. Now was as good of a time as any in Billy's eyes.

He leaned over to his bedside drawer, sliding it open as quietly as he could and he grabbed the black velvet box, prying it open quietly, the small ring staring back at him. He felt bad because he couldn't buy you a large diamond ring, instead he had to opt for a small diamond ring considering he used his entire salary from his lifeguard job in Hawkins. He studied the ring and he glanced at you, eyes still on your book. He was asking himself questions silently, trying to think of how to do it.

You flipped the page of the book before a weight had appeared on your breast. You expected to see your boyfriend's hand but instead it was a black box with a ring inside of it. Your heart rate quickened and you put the book down. "Will you marry me," you looked at Billy, a nervous smile on his face. You quickly nodded, your throat felt like it was constricted.

"Yeah?" You smiled, "Yeah." He took the book from your lap, gently putting it on the floor as he held you close, getting the ring out of the box and he slid it onto your finger. "I would've gotten you something bigger but that's all I could afford." You looked at him, "Billy, I didn't even need a ring. We could've gone to the courthouse and I still would be happy. Thank you, it's pretty." He smiled and leaned in, kissing you gently, completely different than the times he has kissed you, laying in this exact bed.

You both laid down and he held your hand, twisting the ring around. "Can you cry at the wedding?" He glanced at you, "No." You groaned and he laughed. "Please?" He shook his head, still laughing. "How long were you holding onto this for?" He hummed, "I've had it picked out since April, I started making payments in May and I finished paying it off at the end of July." You nodded.

"What kind of wedding band do you want?" He shrugged, "I don't know, something silver." You nodded, "Okay." You made a mental note. "Can I start driving your car now?" He shook his head, "You know, you have a lot of requests." You laughed, "And you're declining all of them." He looked at you, blue eyes trailing down to your bare legs considering it was too warm to wear much to bed, especially when you knew your boyfriend, now fiancé, would be taking everything off anyways.

"There's something I wouldn't decline." You grumbled, "I'm not having sex with you right now." He huffed playfully, "Why was that the first thought that came to your mind?" Your eyes lowered into a soft glare, "I dunno, maybe it's the fact that your eyes are boring a hole through my underwear." He mocked you, knocking his head into your ribs gently.

His left arm circled around you, pulling you close to his body. "So, when are the Hargrove babies coming?" He laughed, "As soon as you let me go in raw." You rolled your eyes, bringing your right hand up and messing with his hair. "Thank you," you said again. He raised a brow, "For the ring?" You shook your head, "For everything, all the love you show me, every single experience we've had together, choosing me, showing me a side of you that I didn't know existed." Billy smiled, "I should be the one thanking you, you didn't give up on me through the tough shit, you loved me at my worst." Your right hand lowered until it was on his cheek.

"I'll always love you through the shit you go through, I'm not gonna leave when it gets hard." He nodded, head moving a little as he kissed you again, his left hand pressing your back into him. "So, should we start on those babies?" You laughed against his lips, "Think you can keep up?" He laughed, moving so you were flush between the soft mattress and his warm body. "Me having to keep up with you? Oh baby, you're the one that struggles after two orgasms." You laughed as he bent down to kiss you again.

The night was filled with love, lust and everything in between. Sure, the two of you were young but you both knew one thing, that neither of you could live without each other.

Part 2

#billy hargrove fanfiction #stranger things billy #william hargrove #billy hargrove x f!reader #billy hargrove x female reader #billy stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #billy hargove imagine #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove

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fixyourwritinghabits · 10 months

Note

Hi!

I've recently finished my first draft and I'm ready to get to work on the second.

My autism makes it hard to use those "tips and tricks" people usually have, so I thought about working out a step by step for myself instead, but I have no clue where to start?

Hope you can help or point me in the right direction, as I'm at my wits end.

I don't have any grand secrets, unfortunately. I've attempted to read many, many books on editing, trying to discover the secret that I appear to be missing, but none of them really helps. Note the big changes first, they say. Fix the little things after.

But when everything seems like it's a mess, I don't know how to distinguish between big fixes and small ones. In the end, everything needs to be fixed, and I just have to slog through. However, there are some things that work for me, as frustratingly slow as they can be:

First make sure you're ready to edit.

Sometimes you have to trunk that book for a lot longer than you think. You have to give your brain a long enough break from it in order for new ideas to be formed. Put it away, as long as you can, and give your brain a break. Coming to your story fresh is the best way to start.

This doesn't sound like it works, and believe me, the temptation to dive right back into the book after a week or so is high, but give yourself decent break. Read some books, watch some movies. Shake up those weary creative drives in your brain for up to a month or more before you take another crack at it.

(If you're not tackling a large product, you can wait for a shorter period of time, probably. The longer the book or novel, the more of a rest you should have. If you're writing a fanfic chapter by chapter, the temptation to post immediately is high. Don't do it! Let it rest for a couple of days before reviewing it. You'll thank yourself later.)

Have an outline.

If you didn't start with an outline while drafting, laying out your plot where you can see it will really help you figure out what threads need strengthening. My favorite technique is flashcards and sticky notes that have a short summary of the chapter or scene. Both can be easily rearranged, removed, or shuffled about.

If you have a multiple POVs, color-coding your chapters can help you lay out how much progress each character has made and what areas of the story might need shoring up.

Another thing that can be of help is reworking character sheets or notes. I've been struggling with a particular character who I adore, but who's motivation I've been having trouble nailing. For this draft, I've been able to figure out what the thorn in their side was and write a much stronger story for them as a result.

Slog through from the beginning.

Yes, some people can dive right into those problem areas. Boo to those people, I say. Boo. For me, the only thing that works is to start from the beginning and work through each chapter at a time. Yes, this does involve getting stuck on how to fix things. There is a lot of dramatic lying on floors and pestering my completely bewildered cat when I hit a wall.

But starting at the beginning allows me to see where I need to slot in elements I only started to figure out later in the book. It allows me to weave in foreshadowing and pick up subplots at the right places, rather than throwing them in when I think of them. This method may mean you'll have redraft a few times, and yes, I have to start from the beginning each time. But it does work, even if it takes time.

Just don't ask how many drafts I've done of this damn book I'm working on.

#editing #plotting #writing advice #it's a lotta drafts unfortunately #each time I find a surprising new typo that's been there since FOUR DRAFTS AGO

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maximotts · 1 year

Text

𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑎𝑐𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑦𝑜𝑢; 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑎𝑡

a/n: this was supposed to be a drabble and it turned into a very long part of my originally planned Christmas fic. sOOO.. you're welcome (and yes I did co-opt Wanda and Vision's thing at the beginning because I can and I wanted to)

request: @wandasdolly; okay so hear me out… festive wandanat sex by the fireplace… and there’s blankets and wine and probably christmas music playing and i am just being horny anyway bye😁

pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff

wc: 4.2k

summary: Private Hire: Origins AU; This is an 18+ only work, minors DNI; smut, fluff; cozy and romantic living room sex, fingering, oral, cum strap because I'm a feral homosexual, Natasha has two wolves inside her: one that's horny for Wanda and the other that's disgustingly in love with her, cuddly aftercare and a lot of feelings at the end because this is me and well, I've been wanting to write this for a long time

private hire au. || main masterlist.

"Wanda, darling..."

"Natasha, sweetheart?" Wanda struggled to keep her weight on just one arm, her other bent to keep her glass of wine upright. She'd been in the middle of taking another sip when Natasha leaned in to kiss her cheek, cutting her drink short to replace cool glass with her lips. "What are you doing?"

The redhead chuckled against her skin, leaving lipstick marks along Wanda's jaw as she continued her trek. "You're a smart girl. What do you think I'm doing?"

Elegant piano versions of classic Christmas songs played low in the background, Natasha having insisted on pulling out her records for the living room scene she'd set. Thick blankets laid over the carpeted floor, fire crackling over wooden logs nestled in their large fireplace, Natasha surprised Wanda with a cozy night alone for the holidays. It was a sweet gesture for the typically stoic one of the pair, the kind of thing Wanda loved more than anything especially during her favorite time of year.

"If I had to guess, I'd say you're up to something..." As Wanda spoke, Natasha pressed forward, kissing down her neck as she turned it to the side and allowed her further access. The moment she felt her girlfriend's hands on her hips, she expected some kind of removal of her silk pajama top, but it never came.

Instead, when Nat's mouth reached the last bits of exposed skin over her sternum, they traveled over the fabric and nuzzled into Wanda's chest where she always felt most safe and secure. "You should set your wine down before you spill it."

Wanda looked down then, raising a confused brow to the woman too preoccupied with reverently kissing the swells of her breasts to notice being watched. "I'm not going to spill- oh..."

The glass met the stone fire hearth with a hard clank, Wanda's hand shaky as Natasha's lips wrapped around a covered nipple. Both arms had to support her now, Nat tugging her closer and leaving her at a somewhat awkward angle- it was hard to care while her girlfriend licked over the semi-hard bud. Both of them knew how sensitive she was, Natasha exploiting it at every turn when she needed Wanda breathless and pliable as quickly as possible, but this was different.

This was slow, careful, tongue rolling over her in a teasing promise of what was to come before she switched to the other, not wanting to neglect any part of Wanda. "You're going to ruin my shirt..."

"They're pajamas, you'll get over it." She'd been bouncing around for weeks arranging everything —buying this house to get away from bustling city streets, the type of home Wanda sighed over whenever they drove by, giving explicit instructions to not be disturbed unless someone was dying of in danger of it— all of this for Wanda's Christmas gift. Nothing was going to get in the way of Natasha making the most of their time together.

And so only when Wanda began to whine, needing more after being wound up painfully slowly, did Natasha guide the brunette to lay back. She undid the row of tiny buttons blocking her top half from view before sliding matching bottoms down to her ankles, calloused fingers dragging down skin so soft Natasha felt blessed to touch it. Wanda kicked the pants off herself, moved to rid herself of her underwear, the last piece of clothing that kept her from being fully exposed, but Natasha stopped her.

She sat back on her knees to get a good look at her, long hair splayed out atop the quilt where Wanda lay prone, wide green eyes a little hazy from the alcohol, but playful nonetheless as she smiled up at Natasha; she swore she felt her heart leap. Maybe she paused too long because manicured fingernails dug into Natasha's thighs, Wanda having grown impatient, "What are you staring at?"

"You," Natasha said without hesitation, tracing the shadows the fire made over Wanda's abdomen with her pointer finger, "You're beautiful and I don't think I tell you that enough." Wanda blushed a deep pink and went to shake her head, but Nat was quick to hold her chin still and force her to take the compliment. "You're beautiful and I love you and I need you to remember that."

Wanda could've made some snarky remark about how dramatic Natasha was being, how she didn't have to say that stuff just to get in her pants, but the words she heard choked her up. Manipulative as she could be, Natasha would never lie to Wanda, not about that, and in the short seconds she managed to make eye contact with the woman above her, Wanda saw only sincerity in her loving gaze. "Show me."

Natasha closed the distance quickly, kissing Wanda until she was breathless and nearly lightheaded. When she descended this time it was with teeth scraped over her collarbone and nibbles that were sure to leave a mark. Pointedly ignoring Wanda's breasts until an insistent hand pulled her by her hair to them, Natasha bit down harder than she needed to, the brunette squeaking and squirming as Nat soothed the blossoming red bruise with a series of apologetic licks. "I'll be wearing turtlenecks until that goes away, Nat."

"It's winter anyways, too cold to show off." She was content to let Wanda rock against her thigh while she played, sucking and licking each nipple and rolling whichever one she couldn't have in her mouth with her fingers, always a game to see how fast Natasha could make her cum just like that. But today was for more than that and as Nat's free hand dipped lower, snapping the sides of Wanda's panties against her hips, she couldn't bring herself to be too disappointed hanging up her mischievous hat for one night.

Pushing insistent hips to still on the ground, curious fingers dipped between Wanda's legs and found a sizable spot on that last piece of her clothing; a telltale sign of her arousal. "You're so wet, baby. Is that all for me? Because I made you dinner and got your favorite wine, or did I play with your tits so much you're already close to cumming?"

Wanda hated and loved when Natasha called attention to her like so; hated for how cocky her girlfriend got no matter what her response and loved for the way that kind of talk tightened that coil in her belly, a true double-edged sword. Keeping her ego in check was a 24/7 job, but Wanda had to admit it was kind of cute to see Natasha so visibly proud of herself. "Both, now touch me before I do it myself and make you watch."

"Oh honey," Natasha cooed, easily moving the thin lace to the side and sliding two fingers along Wanda's folds, "you know you'd only be begging me to do it for you the entire time."

Confident fingertips toyed with Wanda's clit, moving in time with the ones still firmly at her chest, Nat grinning wide while Wanda's back arched involuntarily and she cried out, her first orgasm a sudden and unplanned surprise.

As her head swam, Wanda recalled the short video she'd sent Natasha just a few days prior, motivation to come home after she'd gotten word the older woman was held up and would be back later than planned. In it, she'd fucked herself on her newest vibrator, a toy she knew Natasha was itching to see Wanda use— she didn't realize she'd called out Natasha's name until after she pressed the send button. Soft and desperate, pleading for her girlfriend and her help on pure instinct... Natasha wasn't going to let that go unnoticed.

In this particular instance, the shock of it all left Wanda's mouth open in a silent scream; gorgeous as she was, Natasha wanted to hear her name again. Thankfully she was far from done.

Wanda's underwear joined her pants in a heap next to them before Natasha kissed her way back up the expanse of Wanda's bare legs, holding them apart to selfishly drink in the sinful sight of her lover spread open just for her. "Have I mentioned how pretty you are, Wands?"

The girl only rolled her eyes, brushing off her gawking to tug at Natasha who was still fully clothed. "I want to see you too."

She wasn't shy about her body, Wanda having seen it countless times over the few years they've known one another, but she never failed to be surprised when Wanda asked. Before her and even at the beginning of her, the sex she had was quick and detached, clothes askew and shoved aside to get to the point; when Wanda demanded more from her, Natasha was too head over heels to deny the request.

Especially on nights such as these where she focused on Wanda alone, she never liked to be the only one naked and so Natasha obliged, shedding her pajama shirt and letting her girlfriend's hands roam at will. Wanda sat up then, taking her turn to kiss every inch of skin she could reach, fingertips lovingly skirting over every cut and scar Natasha sustained over the years. "I think you're plenty beautiful yourself, you know."

She knew Natasha wouldn't let it last long, not when a brush between her legs revealed the thick strap on set firmly in place on her hips, but the brevity didn't stop Wanda from wanting to show what appreciation she could anyways. "And this is for me, I'm assuming."

"Depends, do you want it to be?" Natasha rocked against Wanda's as she rubbed over the fake cock, the textured base of the toy perfect for giving some much needed attention to her neglected sex. She rarely talked about how much it turned her on just to make Wanda fall apart, but honestly, it made her insatiable. Even getting to watch the display she doubted Wanda knew she was putting on, wiggling against the blankets as she palmed her strap with such anticipation she had to bite her lip to keep from immediately asking for it... Nat could've cum on the spot.

Wanda's hand stilled, bringing her eyes back up to meet Natasha's, mirthful expression so cute the redhead fought the urge to pinch her cheeks, "I thought you hated dumb questions."

Natasha laughed at that, reluctantly pulling Wanda away and pushing her back once more so that she could rid herself of her own pants before leaning over Wanda until their chests were pressed together, "It's not a dumb question if I'm asking. Do you want it?"

She rolled her pelvis against Wanda's slowly, deliberately sliding the strap on against Wanda's wet folds as she fought to keep still. Wanda knew what she was doing and it wasn't fair, forcing Wanda to beg for something on what was supposed to be a romantic night where Natasha usually gave without asking— it wasn't a habit her girlfriend could kick easily. "Yes..."

"Yes what?" Nat took that sweet pressure away and replaced it with her fingers, pushing one digit past her entrance without warning. It didn't hurt, but Wanda whimpered anyways, the sudden intrusion catching her off guard. A second finger joined the first soon after, steadily stretching Wanda until she was ready to speak her wishes. "Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you, whatever it is."

"I-I..." Forming sentences was hard when two fingers were fucking her open, fast and rough even as Natasha's words stayed even-paced and calm. It was too much and not enough, even as those devious fingers curled, hitting that one spot that drove Wanda to madness. She didn't want to be so close again, not without her girlfriend's strap buried deep inside her; all she had to do was say it. "I want you to fuck me! Nat, please, I'm gonna-!"

"You're gonna what? Cum again?" Wanda nodded, desperately trying to stave off her impending orgasm, but Natasha never let up. When the girl's mewling gave away her stubbornness, Nat cradled her flushed cheek in her hand, thumb running over kiss-swollen lips. "Let go for me, sweet thing. Let me see you cum just like this and I'll give you what you really want."

It was only a few seconds longer that she lasted, arms drawn tight around Natasha's neck as she rode out her orgasm. This one was stronger than the last, longer and fuller, and Wanda was glad to already be laid out where her muscles could safely give way.

As soon as Nat's fingers pulled out, her strap pushed in, thicker than her digits and inching ever deeper until her lover bottomed out with a low grunt. "Shit, Wanda..."

Long legs wound around Natasha's waist as Wanda adjusted to the stretch, both keeping her close as she could and giving her girlfriend a better angle to grind against the toy's base, willing to endure the temporary discomfort if it meant hearing more of Nat's swears and the occasional praises that came with them. "Tasha... fuck me."

Gentle command as it was, Natasha moved, slow at first until she could go without resistance, finding just the right pace as she left messy kisses down Wanda's throat. "This what you wanted?"

"Again with the dumb questions," Wanda bypassed a real response in favor of pulling the redhead closer, dragging red lines down her back with blunt fingernails as Natasha hit the perfect angle. It felt so right, like everything did when it was with her; the singular person Wanda trusted to see her at her most vulnerable. "Right there, don't stop!"

"Here?" Natasha accented her question with a particularly hard thrust, Wanda's exaggerated groan immediately giving her her answer. A few more pointed movements of her hips and Wanda might have well been a puddle on the floor, babbling any number of incoherent pleas Natasha could only just make out as Sokovian.

"What's the matter, Wanda, can’t talk straight with your pussy stuffed full of my cock? Poor baby.” She couldn't help but play into it, to drive her further into the subspace that was for Natasha's eyes only. Wanda looked like she wanted to say something back, probably some half-hearted distaste for Natasha’s vulgarity, but she couldn’t pretend not to love it. Not when the same woman tugged her hips upwards to keep hitting that same spot now threatening to make her drool, her eyes rolling back into her head as she mumbled and reached for Natasha.

On her third orgasm, she was terribly sensitive and didn't have a hope of lasting long even if she tried. Natasha drew it out as long as she could, working her way to her own climax right along with the woman below. Wanda preferred it that way, always wanting to share her ecstasy with the person she loved most; it was sweetest to her watching the same pleasure she felt wash over her lover at the same time. “Fuck, Wanda, you feel amazing.. I’m so close..”

Natasha’s head dropped into the crook of Wanda’s neck and she was quick to bury her fingers in thick red locks, uncaring of how hard she pulled as she neared her end once more. “Cum with me Tasha, please, please-!”

Their joined climax was a flurry of kisses and sighs, Wanda clinging to Natasha for dear life as a gush of liquid slipped deep inside her, some added thing to her girlfriend’s new toy that only added to the fullness she felt. Natasha’s hips had yet to still, rutting into Wanda for as long as her orgasm let her. When she did come down, she held tight to Wanda, squeezing her limp form and kissing her shoulder until the other woman protested her suffocation. “Sorry…”

When Wanda opened her eyes it was to Natasha’s shy smile and she giggled, granting her a quick peck on the nose before Nat pulled back. “You’re quite cute when you’re clingy.”

“I’m not cute.” Natasha sat back on her knees, lazy eyes dropping from Wanda’s exhausted gaze to where she was now glistening in the firelight, a mixture of her arousal and the toy’s lubricant dripping from her abused entrance. She was gathering it on her fingers without a second thought, moaning as she pushed it back in and slowly let her digits drift back inside. Nat studied Wanda as she toyed with her, checking for signs of discomfort or even pain; when none came, she figured she might as well ask for the one thing she wanted. “Can I taste you, my love? I’ll be quick.”

Wanda nodded, her eyes already falling closed again, “Be gentle.” It was an easy enough request to abide by and Nat laid kisses down Wanda’s abdomen as a thank you, soft and adoring little things over her lower belly, willing her girlfriend to relax when her lips finally reached the top of her mound. She was flat on her stomach now, inspecting Wanda up close to commit the sight to memory— Natasha would spend all night filling Wanda up just to watch it seep out and fuck it back in again if she’d let her, but that was for some other time.

Her tongue was careful as it licked over her hole, mindful of Wanda’s shivers and quivering thighs, but she tasted divine and soon enough Natasha was taking every bit of her she could get. “You’re always so good for me, Wanda, so perfect…”

The only response she received was a pleased hum, a sound made comfortably enough that Natasha continued on in stride, turning her attention to Wanda’s swollen clit. Loving sets of kitten licks left Wanda’s hips stuttering, Natasha wrapping her lips around it and sucking only because she knew when she let up there’d be a fresh pool of wetness waiting for her. She continued her little cycle until Wanda weakly pushed her away with a strained whine, “Too sensitive, hurts…”

Instantly worried, Natasha was off in a flash, giving the exhausted woman a thorough once over. She’d been so careful, but even so, if she’d done something harmful, she’d never forgive herself. “Did I hurt you? Are you okay?”

“I’m perfectly okay, Nat.” Wanda shook her head, running her hands over her girlfriend’s thighs to reassure her now frantic state. “Don’t overreact, I’m fine. Barely awake, but I feel great.” Nat breathed an audible sigh of relief, but kept her distance, giving Wanda the space she hated having after sex. Her outstretched arms reminded Natasha yet again how much of a cuddler her partner was, another activity she only ever indulged when it came to Wanda.

She scooped her up along with a blanket, wrapping Wanda in a warm bundle before letting her lay on her chest; the brunette’s favorite way to be held when she was tired and reorienting herself. Rarely did she say anything which was more than fine for the other woman who tended to exist in silence unless prompted, but something about tonight compelled Natasha to speak up. “I love you.”

“Yes, I know,” Wanda chuckled, giving Natasha a quick squeeze as she sleepily watched the dimming fire. Nat took her hand though, catching her attention as she played with it in her own. All day her partner had been so… odd; not in any way Wanda could complain about with the gift of this house, dinner, and everything else, but she had to admit it was completely out of character. “I love you too.”

“No, I…” She felt stupid even trying to say it, having shown it as best she could and most likely doing more than enough to prove her point, but the truest words were always the hardest ones for Natasha to convey. “I’m in love with you. I’m so in love with you that it makes me feel like an idiot.”

“You’re being a little silly, sweetheart. We should probably go to bed-” A kiss cut Wanda off, bold and full of a strange uncertainty that caught her off guard. She could still taste herself on Natasha’s lips from earlier and as she was pulled impossibly closer, Wanda feared her spine would break if the arms around her held any tighter.

Nat gave her just enough space, her forehead pressed against Wanda’s as their heavy breaths mingled. “Marry me.”

Wanda’s once half lidded eyes flew open, scooting back from Natasha to stare at her in disbelief. She’d been with her girlfriend long enough to know when she was joking; Wanda didn’t know if it scared her more not to see any evidence of that in her or not. “Natalia, don’t…”

“Don’t do that, don’t pull away. I mean it!” There was no point in being on one knee when they were both sat on the ground so Natasha just shuffled closer, taking Wanda’s hand back and holding it in her own shaky ones. “I want to live in this house here, with you, and come back here every night to call this our home. I never want to think about having another Christmas without you right by my side or any other holiday that in all honesty, I think are stupid, but you love. I want to see your face light up when I surprise you and kill whatever makes you cry. Hell, I even like cuddling now when it means holding you. I want you to marry me.”

She didn’t know what to say, effectively stunned into silence at Natasha’s confession. In all the ways Wanda imagined a proposal as a little girl, it was never naked in a blanket on the floor of some American home in New York, being asked by a woman who she loved as much as she butt heads with. Far from her wildest dreams, but Wanda had long stopped having those. “Ask me.”

“What?” Pleased as she was Wanda didn’t yell or bolt from the room as she’s been known to do, her response wasn’t the enthusiastic yes Natasha hoped for.

“You said you want to marry me, so ask me.” Wanda stared at Natasha blankly, expectantly until the other woman got the hint. Her instinct was to roll her eyes, remark that Wanda couldn’t ever just take a gesture for what it was, no, she had to be difficult about it; she knew this about her and none of it made Natasha want her any less.

And so she straightened up, holding Wanda’s hand firmly now, and asked the question Wanda thought she’d never hear. “I’ve said it a thousand times today, but I’ll say it a thousand more if you ask me to: I love you. So much so that I’m asking you to marry me without buying you a ring because I couldn’t bear one more day without knowing you’ll be mine for the rest of our lives. We fight sometimes and we’re both so stubborn, I’m sure we’ll never stop having our disagreements, but you’ll also never stop being the only person I trust with everything I have. I’m not good with the words that actually matter and you know that so please don’t make me do this again; will you marry me, Wanda Maximoff?”

Wanda didn’t like crying, hated when it happened and even more so when Natasha was around to see it, but this time she’d caused it and Wanda was too overwhelmed with emotion to hold back her sob. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

She flung herself back into Natasha’s arms, a sweaty mess of tears and the smell of sex, but Nat caught her anyways, rubbing her back as Wanda cried. Unfortunately, Natasha hadn’t thought through how emotional Wanda tended to get; she’d barely bargained for her own stumbling before opening her mouth. “You’re too tired to be crying like this, you’ll pass out.”

“You’d take care of me,” Wanda mumbled, curling into Natasha’s lap as she tried to settle herself down. It took a while, longer because the brunette refused to quit kissing her new fiancee to properly catch her breath. When she finally did, her wide smile was still plastered on her face and Natasha found it contagious, a similar expression stuck on her own mouth. “That was quite an adorable proposal, Miss Romanoff.”

Natasha raised a brow, wiping the last remnants of tears from Wanda’s pink cheeks with a disgruntled huff, “If you tell anyone about that, I’ll make sure they can’t speak a word of it to anyone else.”

“Does that include-”

“That especially includes Sam. Not a word or I’m taking my proposal back.” Wanda laughed, not believing a single thing that came out of her grumpy wife-to-be’s mouth. Natasha was so protective of her steel-cut persona, so few people heard anything different and even fewer actually saw it. Wanda, on the other hand, loved spilling secrets to their friends and more than once, Natasha caught herself being the topic of conversation; they never let her live those moments down. “Not a single word, I mean it. I bet I can sell this house too.”

#wandanat #wandanat fanfiction #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #wandanat fic #wanda maximoff fic #natasha romanoff fic #wandanat smut #wandanat fluff #wanda maximoff smut #natasha romanoff smut #wanda maximoff fluff #natasha romanoff fluff #wandanat au #private hire au #marvel fanfic #motts writes.#maximotts

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skzimagines · 14 days

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Part 21

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Genre: | Polyamory!relationship |

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It's been a week since Hyunjin's been out of the hospital. I've been staying at his house with him ever since. He's going to his therapy, taking his med's, and taking care of himself better. I haven't talked to Minho much, outside of letting him know how hyunjin is doing. The argument we had the night everything went down is still sitting on my mind daily. Maybe he was right, if I had just talked to Hyunjin, at least said a quick hello... maybe, none of this would have happened. He has apologized multiple times, say's it wasn't my fault that this all happened, he was just under a lot of stress and he wasn't thinking about what he was saying. But to me... there's always some truth behind thing's that are said, wether anyone says there isn't.

"what do you want for dinner tonight jinnie?" I ask, walking into his room, where he lays in his bed, scrolling through his phone. "mmm.. im not really hungry." he groans. I sit at the end of his bed and let out a sigh. "what's wrong, love?" he asks, sitting up to sit behind me and pull me into his arms. "nothing... just thinking." I whisper. "what are you thinking about?" He asks. "Do you blame me for what happened?" I ask in a whisper. "oh y/n..." He says, pulling me tighter into his arms. Tears begin to well up in my eyes. "I just feel like everything's my fault, if I would have talked to you, if I didn't push you away.... I didn't know how to handle everything Hyunjin, this years trip has been nothing but a complete mess. I screwed everything up...." He lets out a sigh. " you didn't screw anything up baby. If anything you made it better. I was the one that screwed things up, I should have handled thing's way better than what I did. I was acting like a complete fool. I should have been there for you, but instead I acted like an asshole. I ruined the entire trip, not just for you but for everyone. If I would have just pulled my head out of my ass the first day, none of this would have happened. So please, don't blame yourself for all of this mess, because it wasn't you." he says.

I let out a sigh and let my body relax into his. “I love you, Hyunjin.” I says. “I love you too, Y/N.” He replies. He takes me cheek into his palm and turns my head towards his, capturing my lips into a deep, slow kiss. His hand moves from my cheek and to my neck, caressing it softly. I bring my hand up to run through his hair and the kiss gets deeper. “Lay down for me baby.” He whispers.

I make my way up the bed, laying on the pillow. Hyunjin climbs on top of me, bringing his lips to mine once again. His hands explore my body. "you're so beautiful." He whispers as he runs his lips down to my neck. He lick's along the side of my neck before giving my ear a light peck. "let's take these off" He says, pulling my short's down. He slides them down my legs with my panties, throwing them on to the floor. He slowly makes his way back up my body. He slams his lips back onto mine, before sliding his member out of his pants and rubbing his tip between my heat. "Mmm... so wet for me already." He moans. "You do things to me you'll never understand, Jinnie." I whisper. He gives me a small smile before giving me a quick peck on the lips. "oh trust me my love, I completely understand." he whispers back, while pushing into me, slowly. I throw my head back in pleasure as he bottoms out inside me. He begins to move slowly, in and out. His tip rubbing every inch of my insides perfectly. Our lips connect once again as he ruts his hips into mine. "Don't ever leave me again..." He whispers. I let out a moan as he begins to go faster, and harder. "never... leave you... again jinnie." I moan out between his thrusts. "good... you're all mine." He says before wrapping his hand lightly around my neck and pumping himself into me hard enough to make the bed shake. "say it.." He demands. "All yours... I'm all yours Hyunjin." I squeek out. He takes one of my nipples into his mouth and gives it a hard suck before bringing it between his teeth, giving it a light bite. I let out a small groan at the sensation. I wrap my arms around his neck and bring his hair into my hands, tugging at it gently. "Don't ever cut your hair.." I say with a smile. "Whatever you want my love.." He says, before bringing his lips to mine for the hundredth time tonight. His hip's begin to get weak as his high comes closer and closer, causing his thrusts to slow down. I feel my high coming along with his. He pushes in one last hard thrust right before we both come to our highs together. He lets out a long sigh before rolling off of me and laying down on the bed facing me. "It's been a while since we did that." He says quietly with a chuckle. "yeah... it has." I say, taking in how long it actually has been. "We should probably start doing that more often." He says jokingly. "Who said we were done yet?" I say with a laugh, climbing back ontop of him. "Oh, really now?" He says with a smirk.

"Baby, did you grab the sunscreen?" Hyunjin yells from across our shared apartment. It's been a few weeks since I've moved in with him. But it's been a few months since we've seen anyone else besides each other. After everything that's happened, we really just needed the time together and Hyunjin needed his time to get better. My only focus other than him was my work. I've texted Ash a few times, but just to tell her we were alright and they didn't need to worry. Like that was going to keep them from doing so. That was until Felix texted me earlier today asking if Hyunjin and I wanted to go to the beach with them and all the other guys... including Minho, which neither Hyunjin nor myself have talked to since the day Hyunjin went to the hospital. After everything that's happened and him basically blaming everything one me, I've chosen to just distance myself. The comment he made still runs through my head every other day. That, and he hasn't gone out of his way to check on Hyunjin or I since that night. I didn't want to go to this beach "extravaganza" as felix called it, not wanting things to get out of hand, or be awkward. But Hyunjin insisted on us going, he says it will be a good thing for us to get out of the house for a little bit, which I agree with. And he also says it'd be good to catch up with everyone, which I have to disagree with.

"No, I think its in the bathroom under the sink." I say, throwing my swimsuit cover over my head. Hyunjin makes his way to the bathroom to grab the sunscreen as I make my way to the kitchen to pack some drinks into our cooler bag. I meet Hyunjin in the walk way with our bag as he carries our towels. “You ready?” He asks with a smile. I let out a nervous sigh. “I guess so..” I say with a half smile. “Let’s go!” He grabs the keys from the key hook and we head to the car after he locks the front door. We throw our stuff into the back seat before getting in and buckling up. Hyunjin starts the engine. “Did you want to drive?” He asks. “Are you kidding? Do you want to die?” I say dramatically. He lets out a laugh before putting the car in reverse and backing up.

We finally get to the beach after what seems like the longest thirty minutes of my life. My heart starts pounding when Hyunjin puts the car in park and we see Jeongin down the beach waving his hands crazily at us. Hyunjin treats me take a deep breath and he takes my hand into his. “Everything will be okay my love.” He’s says softly and reassuringly. “I hope so.” I say, looking out towards everyone on the beach. “Hey..” he grabs my chin and turns my face towards his. “I’m right here… I won’t let anything happen.” He says, before planting a kiss on my forehead. “Now let’s try to go have some fun!” He says excitedly, exiting the car.

We grab our things from the trunk right before Jeongin and Changbin come running up to us and pulling us both into a bear hug. I let out a grunt as Changbin squeezes me as hard as he can. “Bin.. you’re going to kill me.” I say breathlessly. He laughs and lets go, just to do the same to Hyunjin. Jeongin walks over and pulls me into a hug. “We miss you guys!” He says. “We missed you too.” I smile. “Let’s go swim! We have food if you guys are hungry.” Changbin says, leading us to everyone else. We finally catch up to everyone at the beach. “Y/N!!!” Ash yells before crashing into me with a hug, sending us both down into the sand. And for the first time… in a long time, I let out a real laugh, along with her. We lay there holding each other in the sand. "Okay you lovers, get up, everyone else needs a hug." Han says with a laugh. Ash gets off of me and I stand up to give Han a hug and see Minho standing behind him. I feel my heart skip a beat. We make eye contact for a few seconds before looking away from one another. "alright, alright.. bring it in." Han says, pulling me into a hug.

After we all say our hello's and talk about how things have been, we all decide to go swimming with each other. Ash and I walk up to our bags and such to take off our swim covers. Pulling it over my head and tossing it to the blanket laid out in the sand, I look up and catch Minho starring. "you've got a secret admirer." Ash whispers, nudging my shoulder and wiggling her eyebrows in a joking manner. I give her a small smile. "I don't think so anymore... I haven't talked to him in months." I whisper back. "he still loves you... he told me what happened, he just doesn't know how to go about things from here." she says. "but I know you and Hyunjin are in a good place, I don't want that ruined. I'm so happy you two worked things out. And I'm glad he finally got the help he needed. Cause he was turning into quit the dickhead." She chuckles at her last comment. I let out a light laugh. "I don't know what to say to him.." I sigh. "you don't have to say anything, I'm sure everything will work out eventually... NOW! lets go swimming!" she yells excitedly.

We all make our way to the water. Hyunjin comes up behind me and picks me up by the waist, running toward the water. "Hyunjin! Put me down right now!" I yell. "Nope, we're going swimming baby." He laughs. "I'm going to kill you!" I yell before we hit the water and we both fall in, submerging us both under. I come up gasping for air as I hear Hyunjin laughing. I quickly wipe my eyes and splash water at him. He makes his way towards me and pulls me into a kiss, both of us smiling through it. "I love you." He says when he pulls away, resting his forehead on mine. "I love you too Jinnie." I say with a smile.

"Guys! we should play chicken!" Chan says happily. "Umm, if you don't mind me asking... what the hell is chicken?"Seungmin asks. "You've never played chicken?" Ash asks. "no..." he exclaims. "Jeez, have you lived under a rock your whole life?" Changbin says sarcastically. "No... but I've lived under your mom." Everyone breaks out into laughter, while Changbin gives him a death stare. Once everyone stops laughing, Chan goes on to explain how to play the game. "So there's two people on a team, one person sits on the other's shoulders and tries to knock the other team down." Once everyone understands how to play the game, we all get into teams. First up was Ash and Felix with Changbin and Jeongin. Ash and Felix decided to mix it up and Ash held Felix on her shoulders, well.. she tried at least. Jeongin only had to push Felix one time before he fell off of Ash's shoulders and into the water. Next up was Hyunjin and I with Minho and Han. "Alright, you better kick their asses." Hyunjin says, crouching down in the water so I can get on his shoulders. I quickly climb on and hold on to his shoulds, wrapping my legs around him as he stands up. "I'll try my best." I say with a laugh. Minho gets Han on his shoulders and makes their way over to us. "You ready to be body slammed into a giant body of water?" Han asks me dramatically. "Its a lake Han, no need to be dramatic. And you're the one that should be getting ready." I say. I heard a chuckle come out of Minho. "Don't laugh! You're supposed to be on my team!" Han says, giving Minho a light smack on the head, causing a smile to break out on Minho's face, the first one I've seen today. "Alright guys... GO!" Chan yells, and Minho and Han lunge toward us. I quickly grab onto Han's arm before he can push me over, I pull with everything in me until he falls forward off of Minho's shoulders. Hyunjin yells out excitedly when he notices we have won. Han comes up out of the water. "Down so quick huh?" I ask with a smirk. "You totally cheated!" He says. "I did not!" I say with a laugh.

We continue to swim and play dumb games together until the sun starts to go down. "Do you guys want to have a bonfire with us?" Chan asks. I look over to Hyunjin, waiting for him to answer, not being sure what he wants to do. "Yeah, we can do that. Neither of us have to work tomorrow." He explains. "Awesome! Hyun.. do you want to come help me get the firewood? They have a stand up at the gazebo." He asks. "Yeah no problem." Hyunjin answers. He quickly comes up to me and plants a kiss at the top of my head. "You should go get changed baby, it's getting cold." He says before making his way out of the water. I also make my way out of the water and up to the blanket to grab my bag. "Hey..." I hear Minho behind me, I turn around to look at him. "Hi..." I say lightly. "umm.. how've you been?" He asks, I can tell her nervous by the way he scratches the back of his neck while asking. "oh, uh.. it's been good actually." I state. "Good, I'm glad." He says. An awkward silence falls between us. "How have you been?" I ask suddenly, trying to break the silence. "I've been good... just the same old stuff." He says. "That's good..." I drag on. "well uh.. I'll let you go get changed.. just figured I'd say something so it wouldn't be so awkward." He says with a chuckle. I let out a small chuckle. "I think this conversation was as awkward as it could have gotten" I say with a laugh. He laughs, for the second time today.. but who's counting? "yeah... I'm sorry." He says nervously. "You don't have to say sorry."I say with a smile. "No... not about this. I'm sorry for what I said to you that day. I shouldn't have done that. I was out of line." He says nervously. "It's alright Minho.. we were both under a lot of stress, it happens." I say, trying to just end the conversation, I'm not good in awkward situations and this has to really top the bar to that. "No, it's not alright.. I told you I would never hurt you, and I did and I'm sorry." He says. "Minho, I forgive you. Truly, let's just put it behind us. Okay?" I say with a heartwarming smile. "Good. I just need you to understand I never meant to hurt you Y/N, that I'll always love you. Even after what happens tonight." He says before walking away. 'what happens tonight?' I think to myself. 'what is he talking about?'.

I grab my bag and head up toward the bathrooms to change my clothes. I make my way around the corner just about to reach for the door handle and two hands cover my eyes. “Guess who..” Hyunjin whispers in my ear. A smile breaks out on my face and I pull away from his hands to face him. “The one and only..” I say before giving him a quick peck on the lips. He pulls me back toward him before I can fully pull away and deepens the kiss. “You look way too good to be walking around in that bathing suit my love. “ He whispers. “What are you going to do about?” I say teasingly. He quickly pushes me through the bathroom door, closing it behind him with his foot and quickly turning around to lock it before pushing me into the wall and slamming his lips into mine. His tongue fights with mine as he slides my bathing suit bottom off. “Jump.” He says. I jump up and he wraps his hands around my thighs as I wrap them around his waist. He quickly pulls his sweatpants down, letting his hard member fall lose from the restraint of his boxers. ‘He must have changed when he left with Chan.’ I think to myself. He grabs his member and lines it up with my heat before slamming into me. “Fuck Hyun-!” I yell before hyunjin shushes me with his hand over my mouth. “Have to be quiet angel, there’s other people here.” He whispers. He continues to slam into me, I don’t last long before I come undone around him. He sets in a few more thrusts before he cums, letting out a grunt as he does.

He gently sets me down and runs his hands through my wet hair. “I love you.” He whispers. “I love you too.” I say back. “Let’s get you dressed.” He grabs my towel and wraps my hair in it, squeezing it gently to get the water out of it. He then unties the back of my top, letting it fall to the ground. He runs his hand down the middle of my back slowly, before moving my hair out of the way and drying it off. “You’re so perfect.” He whispers, taking in the beauty. “Stop..” I say embarrassed. “You are. You don’t understand just how beautiful you really are.” He spins me around and drys the front of me, then leans down and drys my legs. Once he finishes he grabs my sweater and sweat pants from my bag and helps me put them on. “Let’s go to this bonfire everyone’s raving about.” He says with a chuckle. “Let’s do it!” I say, holding the bathroom door for him as he gathers our things.

We make our way to the others. "welcome back love birds." Changbin says jokingly. I look over at Minho and see him starring at Hyunjin and I's hands that are interlocked with one another's. "where do you want to sit?" Hyunjin asks. "Oh.. um, it doesn't matter to me." I say and give him a small smile. "you guys can sit next to us!" Felix suggests, pointing to the blanket sprawled out next to them. Hyunjin and I claim the blanket they offered and sit down. We all sit and visit for a little bit, while Chan gets the fire going. By now the sun has already set and millions of stars are covering the sky. Hyunjin and I are currently laying on our blanket, starring up at the stars as everyone does their own thing. In our own little world. "Do you think there's other people up there?" I ask. "Like... aliens?" He asks with a chuckle. "people, aliens, cats.. whatever suits your imagination." I say. "well, I suppose we van be the only thing in space." He says with a smile. I agree with him. "Do you want to go for a walk?" He asks. "In the dark?" I ask and he laughs. "Are you scared?" He teases. I quickly get up and huff out a no, causing him to laugh again. "Hey, we're gonna go for a walk." Hyunjin tells Chan. "Good luck." Chan winks. I give him a questioning look before Hyunjin grabs my arm quickly and pulls me away. "what was that about?" I ask. "Who knows with him." He shrugs it off, so I do too. We walk hand in hand for a while, talking about how far we've come since all of this has started. How long we've been friends for before it all. We can't believe it's been almost 8 years of friendship, and to call him my boyfriend now.. is even more crazier. I'm walking with my feet in the water when Hyunjin suddenly stops and looks at me. "is everything okay?" I ask. "everything is perfect." He says with a warm smile. "why'd you stop?" I ask with a chuckle. "Because I love you..." He says. "and I love you." I say back. "and i want to spend every single waking day I have with you, you're the most beautiful, caring, smart and perfect person I've ever met y/n.." He carries on. "And I don't know what I would do without you by my side." He reaches into his sweater pocket, pulling out a small jewelry box. "Hyunjin..." I whisper in shock. Hyunjin opens the box, revealing a beautiful diamond ring, before getting down on one knee. "Y/N, will you marry me?"

~~~~~~

Tag list: @greysweaters-blog @mimihwang248 @armystay89 @berryberrytan @multeciahucho @poetrycassie @nobody3210 @straykids5star @mabysblog @yaorzu-blog @elizalabs3 @abby-wanna-bangchan @lyracarvahall @silencionyx

To be continued…

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ijustwanttoreadfanfiction · 1 year

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Friendly Sex - Chapter 3 - Rewards & Curfews

Eddie Munson x AFAB!Reader

Summary - Eddie makes good on his promise.

A/N - This chapter is 99% smut, with 1% plot at the very end, like it's filthy so I hope you don't think less of me. Reader has a Dad who I have semi modelled off of Mr Stratford from 10 Things I Hate About You, but we'll have more on him later.

I also just wanted to take the time to thank everyone who has interacted with this story so far, it really does mean a lot.

Chapter warnings: (MDI) 18+ only, oral sex (f & m receiving), vaginal fingering, overstimulation, dirty talk, swearing, consensual use of the word slut.

Updated version posted 02/04/23

Tag list: @avalon-wolf

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Eddie hoists you into the back of the van, your giggling smothered by his heated kisses. "Lay down for me sweetheart."

You raise an eyebrow looking at the scuffed and dirty baseboards which made up the floor.

"Such a spoiled brat." He huffs with a laugh, shucking his cut and jacket off, placing them down like a blanket, you perch daintily careful not to sit on any of his pin badges, watching in anticipation as he slams the van doors shut.

Eddie on his knees was some sight to see, you lean forward, pulling him to you by the hem of his well worn Hellfire Club t-shirt. Eddie was, in your opinion, an extremely good kisser; his full lips plush and soft against yours, tongue swiping gently for access. You would have been happy to make out with him in the back of the van for hours, but Eddie has other ideas.

"I wanna see that pretty cunt of yours properly princess." He growls, unbuttoning your skirt roughly pulling it down along with your panties, throwing them somewhere towards the front seat of the van. You made to reach down to unzip your knee highs but he batted your hands away. "Boots stay on sweetheart." He says with a devastating wink.,

All you can do is lay there breathing heavily as he licks, kisses and nips his way up from your knees to your inner thighs, hands keeping your legs apart, murmuring filthy praises against your heated skin.

You thought he would move straight onto eating you out, but instead he pushes your top up slightly, kissing across your stomach. You could feel him smiling against you as he drifted over a ticklish spot, doing it again so your muscles jumped. He makes a tiny nipping trail back down your naval, placing butterfly kisses on your mound just above the patch of neatly trimmed downy hair.

"Oh baby, you are so fucking wet and I've barely touched you." He taunts you softly, hovering above your needy pussy, his breath teasing your clit as he laughs, keeping your hips still with his large hands.

"Eddie, please." You whine, running a desperate hand through his mess of curls trying to pull him closer.

"What's the matter sweetheart, tell me what you need?" He asks in mock concern, his Cheshire cat grin growing wider.

"I need your tongue." You beg, considering writing an amendment in the pact that stated Eddie couldn't tease you like this every damn time.

"Need my tongue where?" His tone is the epitome of innocence, brown eyes wide as saucers, like he’s gunning for an Academy Award.

"Jesus, Eddie, are you really going to make me give you explicit instructions?" You groan, trying to press your hips up but he has you royally pinned down with a strength that surprised you. He doesn’t answer, brown eyes staring up at you, goading you silently as he sucks another hickey onto your hip bone.

"Eddie, will you please fuck my cunt with your mouth?" You plead, wanting to cry.

“That’s a good girl.” He praises, finally swiping a long languid lick through your folds to your clit.

If Eddie was a good kisser it was nothing compared to this, his tongue lapping at you like a condemned man presented with his last meal, you pull his hair and that only spurs him on switching from suckling your swollen clit, to tongue fucking you and back again.

"Oh fuck!" You cry out wantonly, not caring that you sound like a porn star from the adult section of Family Video, Eddie doesn’t seem to care either moaning against you in such a way the vibrations have you seeing stars.

"Wanna ride my fingers Princess?" He pants, chin glistening obscenely from your wetness, coming up to kiss you deeply.

“Please.” You breathe, catching his mouth in another kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue.

He slips two fingers into your cunt with ease, scissoring rapidly.

“God, sweetheart, this pussy.” He groans, diving back in flickering his tongue against your clit.

“Think you can take another one of my fingers? Hmm? You take three fingers in your sweet little pussy and I'll make you cum? Give you another reward for being such a good little slut?” He asks, holding your free hand with his, anchoring you both.

"Please…" You hiccup weakly, you can hear how wet you are, feel it dripping down your slit to your ass, crying out as you feel the third finger enter your throbbing pussy, with an obscene squelch. Eddie stretches you wide, his fingers pressing insistently inside you seeking out the spot you could never reach yourself, his tongue focusing intensely on your clit. You prop yourself up on your elbows, the scene is utter debauchery, Eddie has a look of pure bliss on his face, like your pussy is the most delicious thing in the world.

Placing both hands on the back of his head, you ride his tongue and fingers with abandon, Eddie lets out a guttural groan, you can see by the way he’s pressing his hips to the floor, that he is chasing his own release in whatever form of friction he can find.

The speed of his fingers increased, pumping you deeply, crooking them upwards and you feel your walls clamping hard, your orgasm shooting through you like lightning, violent to the point of pain.

"Fuck!" You yelp, thinking it was finished but Eddie only retracts his fingers to replace them with his tongue, licking as deeply as he can go, thoroughly fucking you with the wet muscle, lapping up your cream.

"Ed's it's too much." You cry out, trying to push him away as you quickly become oversensitive, burning with continuous pleasure.

"I can't stop baby, you taste so good, gonna make me cum in my pants." He whines against your cunt, and you feel your pussy clench hard again around his exploring tongue at the thought.

"Eddie, come here, please." You beg, suddenly desperate to feel his heavy cock in your mouth, finally able to push him off, you sit up tugging frantically at his belt, Eddie catches on quickly leaning back on his calves trying to help you with shaky hands.

"Sweetheart, shit." He gasps as you pull his length free, the head swollen, bright red and leaking heavily with pre-cum. You waste no time taking him into your mouth, tongue lapping up the salty liquid, sucking him deep to the back of your throat, bobbing rhythmically.

Eddie whimpers, actually fucking whimpers, if you had been standing it would have made your knees weak, his hands tangling in your hair.

"Baby, fuck, so good, oh my god. I'm gonna- fuck I'm gonna cum princess." He chokes out with something akin to a sob, making to pull you off, but you take him deeper, eyes watering as you gag; feeling several spurts of hot cum hit the back of your throat swallowing it all with a moan.

Eddie pulls you off him with a wanton grunt, smashing your lips together in a messy kiss, tasting each other. You didn't realise how much you are trembling until you break apart for air, feeling dizzy as Eddie presses his forehead to yours, hands rubbing at your arms reassuringly.

"You ok sweetheart?" He asks quietly.

"I think so." You laugh shakily, trying to catch your breath. "You are really good at that."

Eddie flushes a deeper shade of pink all the way up to his ears.

"Yeah ditto princess." He grins bashfully, both still kneeling, the surrounding air feeling oddly charged, you suppress a shiver suddenly aware of your lack of clothing from the waist down.

"Um Eddie, where are my clothes?" You ask awkwardly; feeling strangely exposed now the heat of the moment has faded.

"Oh, uh - here." He leans into the cab retrieving your panties and skirt.

You mutter a small "thanks" as he hands them to you, pulling your panties back up you register the time on your watch, 23:47 glaring up at you.

"Shit!" You shriek loudly, forcing your skirt back up with renewed vigour, adrenaline coursing through your veins.

"What? What is it?" Eddie yelps, yanking his boxers up, eyes darting about in panic clearly expecting to see something nasty like a cockroach.

"Oh my god Eddie, my curfew is at midnight. If I'm not home in exactly 13 minutes my Dad will kill me!" You cry clambering into the front of the van, he jumps up to follow you smacking the crown of his head on the roof.

"Ow! Fuck! JESUS! Why didn't you say you had a curfew?!" Eddie shouts frantically, his jeans still around his knees as he climbs into the cab, clumsily falling into the driver's seat.

"I lost track of time, this wasn't exactly how I planned to spend the night!" You yell back.

"It's alright sweetheart, I'll get you there." He reassures you but doesn’t sound overly confident as he zips his fly.

Fortunately Eddie knows roughly where you live, as your house backs onto the same street as his friend Gareth's.

"Eddie, my Dad can't kill me if I'm already dead." You remind him anxiously, jolting about in your seat, hands on the grab handle for support as he takes another corner at breakneck speed, your stomach lurching, the time now 23:53.

"Baby I said I'd get you there." Eddie responds through gritted teeth, almost mounting a curb. You were only one block away when you screamed.

"Wait, stop!"

Eddie slams the brakes hard, the van screeching to a halt, bracing your arms against the dashboard.

"What the hell?!" He yells

"You can't drop me off outside my house, my Dad will freak out if he thinks I've been with a boy all night instead of at the party with Robin." You explain, quickly checking yourself over in the rear-view mirror, desperate to make it look like you hadn't spent the entire evening having sex.

"You could have told me that before I shredded my tires." He hisses, looking furious, as you hop out.

You stand awkwardly on the sidewalk unsure what to say, Eddie also seemed to be on unfamiliar ground.

"Sooo, I guess I'll see you Monday at school?" You say.

"Uh yeah, see you at school."

You nod, starting to walk away, feeling weirdly deflated when Eddie speaks again.

"Or I could - uh give you a call tomorrow after work, see if you wanted to hang out or something?" He stammers, you can’t hide your grin as you slip hurriedly back into the van, you reach into his jacket pocket pulling out the pen from the diner, scribbling your number onto the palm of his hand.

"What should I say if your Dad answers?" He asks warily.

"He won't, I've got a separate line." You say, clambering out again. "And besides we're just innocent study buddies Edward." You grin cheekily, striding away.

"It's a sin to lie sweetheart." He calls after you, you flick your skirt up in response, flashing your ass.

"Going to hell anyway Munson." You shout back to the sound of his raucous laughter, hearing the van peel away.

You reach your front door at 11:59, puffed out from jogging the last few steps, you had done way too much cardio this evening. Shutting the door as quietly as possible, you creep up the stairs, inches away from the sanctuary of your bedroom when your Dad's voice rings out from across the hall.

"Cutting it a little fine there kiddo."

You winced hoping he would have been asleep but knowing no such luck. You poke your head into his room, determined to keep as much of you hidden as possible knowing you'd had to have at least one hickey blooming on your neck.

He was sitting up in bed with a car magazine in hand and an impassive expression on his face.

"Hey Dad, sorry, I lost track of time."

"Was it a good party?" He asks, taking off his reading glasses.

"It was ok." You reply non-committedly.

"Just ok? Was Steve there?" He presses, a knowing look on his face.

"Yeah, but I didn't really see much of him, he was with Nancy." You could tell he was confused at your calm demeanor, usually after a party you would either come home crying over Steve or mooning over Steve depending on the situation, you tried not to squirm under his searching gaze.

"Ok Sprout, so long as you had a good time." He says finally, flipping his magazine back open. "And remember to set your alarm, you've got work tomorrow."

"Will do, night Dad."

Worried he might decide to call you back for more in depth questioning, you retreat to your room as quickly as possible, letting out a groan seeing the state you and Robin had left it in.

Showering in record time you slump out of the bathroom, shoving your rejected outfits off the bed and onto the floor, crawling under the covers head spinning with tiredness. Amusing yourself as you drift off that if someone had told you that morning, that you'd be ending the day with Eddie Munson's face in-between your thighs you would have laughed and then had them committed.

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