Tumgik
#we'll see how successful it turns out to be
blingblong55 · 1 day
Text
Think I'm pretty -John Price NSFW
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Hello, I would like to make a request, please? Court AU/ Lawyer AU Lawyer!Fem!Reader x Lawyer!Price (both as opposition) - they both in court debating over a minor case (gaz+ Soap vs neighbour) - reader representing neighbour whilst price representing soap, debating about noise policies Sorry if this idea is a bit jumble up / difficult. 😅 But tqsm!!! 🫡🫡🫡✊✊🥺 ---- F!Reader, 18+, MDNI, smut, lawyer!Price, Lawyer!Reader, oral!sex, cheating ----
A/N: I know there was no smut requested but my mind immediately needed it..sorry<3
The room is silent. Everyone in the room standing up. Both sides do not dare to look at the other. You sigh as everyone gets ordered to sit down. You, a successful lawyer and your opponent John Price have always had trouble getting along, not just because he always disagrees with you, even outside of court but also because of how cocky he is. Today, as you see him back in court, he gives you a smirk. Oh, how you wish to win this case.
"John Mactavish and Kyle Garrick versus George Allen and others." The woman so softly speaks. "Neighbourhood guidelines about noise policies in a private community, this case will be dealt with by Lord Edward." You prepare your files in hand and when the time begins, you speak up. "Judge and jury, today, we are here for the case these young and immature men have caused. The community in which both live in has already received calls upon calls for the disturbance of these two young men," you begin.
For nearly 20 minutes after your and Price's opening statements, the problem became worse. Both MacTavish and Garrick began to get louder, pointing fingers at your client. You would occasionally roll your eyes and cover your smile when you'd see Price get frustrated over his client's words.
Maybe, after all, you'd win this one.
"No, what I'm saying is, if this absolute fookin' idiot understood how speakers and parties work, we wouldn't be here!" Kyle stands up and Price has to force him to sit back down.
Your client keeping calm, just like you had ordered them to. It's easy. These two guys are showing the court how bad of neighbours they can be and before you knew it, the men whom you stood upon, sighed as once again MacTavish cussed your client.
"Here's what we'll do, and Price, keep your clients shut or they will hurt themselves more," a deep sigh, "Y/N, your client is in the right. The papers and signatures are on file. Price, your clients are meant to keep quiet, not have a rave in their backyard. If there is one more complaint, the community in which both parties are a part of, can and will have the right to hand MacTavish and Garrick an eviction notice. Y/N, your client shan't step into their yard and if it does happen, MacTavish and Garrick can receive a restraining order against Mr. Allen."
It was clear this was a long one for the court to hear.
After the trial though, the two men Price represented were told to leave before your client saw them again. It was better this way.
You shook Price's hand, and he nodded at you and smiled. "You look rather beautiful today," he says in such a soft tone that makes him appear as if he was a completely different man from the one you argued against. "You look…okay for a shit lawyer," you smile back. "Oh darling," he laughs.
You don't have time for any proper conversation and as soon as you receive all files, you leave the room. Price knows where he can find you. After all, it's always been the number one spot for you to hang out after trials and long arguments.
The small pub that welcomes you also welcomes John. "Care to tell me why you're following me?" You turn to him and he gives you a cocky grin. "What, can't I come here to just relax?" "You? No."
"Still hurt over what happened years ago?" "You stole my case, of course I am. And you knew I was asking for it so I have no idea why the hell you'd go for it."
It was a known story. After all, it's how John and you became such rivals in court. But, it never has to end like that, right?
"It's called business darling," his hand snakes over yours and before anything else can happen, you pull away.
He sighs. "What, too good for me now?" His lips touching your ear. You shift away, trying to not yell at him here. It just isn't right, especially in front of so many others who respect you. "I'm not here to be annoyed by some-" You get cut off when he places his hand around your neck. "What, darling? Say it. Hmm, am I mediocre? incompetent? don't act like you weren't fucking moaning my name years ago. You and I know well that you liked me like I did you," his voice deep and in a whisper. Your hand on his wrist.
"You and I both know that was a mistake," you answer back and he shakes his head. "Tsk, tsk, mistakes are a one-time thing. You know you slept in my bed longer than anyone else. What? Did you forget you used to fuck those pretty fingers of yours to my voice?" he chuckles, almost mocking the nights you two spend together.
He sees that you aren't budging to his questions or comments, it's frustrating. He wants you, you know he does. His body and yours are like a puzzle, the one you both know all too well about.
"Look, I know…i know I'm a selfish son of a bitch but you also have your flaws and-"
"And what are they? hm? Because at least a cheating wife or a stupid fucking face like yours is not a problem I have to face."
Oh does he love it when you bite back.
It was true, which is why he nods. "I do have a cheating wife, the face part though…that is false. You should know. I mean you rode my face almost every night, darling" A smirk grows on him.
He notices your silence.
"What, did you not enjoy how i ate that pretty pussy of yours? Or was it too good that the orgasms made you forget?" he chuckles once more.
Is it bad he needs you again? That he wishes you laid on his bed and not the mistake of a girl he married? Sure she was funny but you…oh fuck. You are smart, gorgeous, funny, sexy…fuck..you're perfect.
"My flat is just a ten-minute drive from here, you can always come…maybe pay me a visit…or two..maybe a whole holiday."
You look at him and then at the drink in your hands. You did want him, yearned for his love again.
"The guy you're talking to is no good. Now, me…I'm handsome, funny, good with my hands and mouth and…well…you know the rest."
Was it a risk? yes. Did you both want it? Yes. So…is this why now after practically thirty minutes of asking you are in his car and on the way to his place?
Once inside his flat, he doesn't waste a second and in a matter of moments, he has you on the couch, his mouth to your neck. His calloused hands take your clothes off. His cock is needy to have you again.
His lips move up, embracing you in a kiss. A much-needed one. "Fuck did I miss you, Y/N," he groans. It was more than a need for sex, but for all the other fun and good emotions, you two brought to each other. His fingers teased your folds as he removed your panties. "Hm, already wet for me? Tsk, tsk, tsk. Need to do something about this, huh love," he slowly goes down on you. His lips are attached to your precious body. From your neck to your hips, his lips ran from. Your aching cunt begging for his tongue.
Once his fingers have enough slick covering them, he pushes them deep inside. A small moan escapes your lips. Eager thing, aren't you?
His tongue lapping at your folds all as his thumb rubs your clit over and over. This is what you always needed after a long day at court.
The sensation is so good. Feels like mythical waves of pleasure but it all stops abruptly. One stupid phone call and he leaves you there. "Stay, I'll come back later tonight, love," he kisses your forehead and walks out.
If only he didn't think his wife was pretty, his hands would be all over you
Tags:
@liyanahelena @uniquecroissant @mirzamsaiph @goldenmclaren @ghostslillady @moonsua1 @frizzseaberries @frazie99 @idklols @katybaby00 @saoirse06 @vampsquerade @alxexhearts @baldwinhearts @Juneonhoth @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @strangepuppynightmare @enarien @Simonssweetgirl @luvecarson @nellsbobells @coralwitchdreamland @ikohniik @nobodys-coffee @strawberrychita @sae1kie @queen-ilmaree @Llelannie @Macnches2 @bbyfimmie @anonymuslydumb @avidreadee123 @talooolaaloolla @skelletonwitch @bittermajesties @1234beeandpuppycat @sparky--bunny @honestlyhiswife @@who-can-appease-me @ghostwifeyy @konigssultwithghost @pinkblossomsworld @lovelyvqer @the_royal_bee @beansproutmafia @luvecarson @soapybutt17 @asianbutnotjapanese @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @born4biriyani @thegreyjoyed @mychemichalimalance @marshiely @iruzias @@sleepyycatt
126 notes · View notes
jakes3resin · 2 days
Text
Promised snippets, but we're gonna go by emotions.
Happy Bucky:
Gale finally turns to stare at him utterly unimpressed. Bucky grins back utterly unrepentant.
"If I swear to take it easy, will you come with? Just sit back with you and enjoy the music." Bucky wouldn't say he drinks too much, but he knows that Buck had a tricky childhood, too much of a father that didn't deserve a kid like him and not enough experience simply living for fun. "Please?"
"Oh just give in Buck!" Benny yelled out walking by the pair's room. "He'll stop clouding up the building with his scent, and we'll all thank you for it."
Bucky turns and grins at Gale who sighs and nods his assent. Bucky laughs.
"Oh he's in fellas!" Bucky calls down the hall to the cheers of the boys.
Sad Bucky:
He's happy Gale has someone. Really, he is. Gale deserves someone as pretty and smart as her, deserves love like that.
"You know what?" Bucky drums his hands on the table. He pushes himself to his feet. "I'm gonna grab a drink, want anything?"
The boys all gesture to their own drinks, and Bucky turns towards the bar. He can feel how Gale stares at him, but he can't sit next to Gale as he pens love letters to his high school sweetheart. Can't pretend that Gale courting Marge doesn't gut him. It's not that he hadn't seen it coming. He just thought maybe he'd get a few more years living in delusion. He knows that whatever happens he'll be happy for Gale, but that's for the future. Tonight, he lets himself feel that heartbreak.
Soft, bashful Bucky:
"Buck? Did you see who left this?" Bucky held up the card still cradling the flowers to his chest.
"Hmm?" Buck looked up from his book. His eyes jumped from the card to the flowers to Bucky's face in rapid succession. "No, you got back before I did."
"Right," Bucky smiled, "I forgot, sorry."
The small white buds felt delicate in his grip. Carnations and baby's breathe. Devotion.
He's never gotten flowers before. No one's ever tried to court him either. A small joyous feeling burns in his chest. He leaned in to smell the soft scent of the flowers.
"What's that Bucky?" Curt's voice drew him from his thoughts. Bucky whirled around, smile already blooming across his face.
"Someone left me courting flowers!" Bucky crowed. He offered them to Curt, who admired but didn't touch. "What do ya think about that?"
"Real pretty Bucky, real pretty." Curt smile up at him, and against his will, Bucky felt his cheeks burn.
35 notes · View notes
ivomartins · 10 months
Text
honestly what's disappointing to me about cy2 is simply the fact that it's another new book that i know won't immediately hook me or keep me excited for every new update like psi or hell or high water did when they came out, especially because it's been this way for several updates now. like there was a time where we could always count on new books being interesting and exciting but now it's just like oh... another one...
23 notes · View notes
ohproserpine · 2 months
Text
iv. dolly
see all chapters here tags: fem! reader, reader is a performer in a speakeasy, jealousy, possessiveness, alastor does not know how to interpret love, or maybe he does, in his own twisted way, roadkill used as a symbolism, gorey descriptions of love, murder the song she sings is 'roxie' from chicago
˚୨୧₊♱
"Hey!" Charlie's voice rang out as she spotted Mimzy making her way towards the hotel entrance. The blonde froze, casting a nervous glance behind her to see the demon princess rapidly approaching with a worried look that she mistook for anger.
With practiced ease, the blonde put on a fake frown, pressing her hand over her chest. "Oh, Charlie! I'm so sorry for the trouble last night, sugar! I'll pay—"
"No, no! I'm not here for that," Charlie waved her hands with a smile, seemingly oblivious to the slump of relief on Mimzy's shoulders. "Are you leaving so soon? The hotel wouldn't mind taking you in!"
Caught off guard by Charlie's unexpected offer, Mimzy grimaced. She hesitated, opening her mouth before shutting it as she struggled to find the right words. "Oh! Well…you see…"
A laughing track, sounding like it was filtered through a radio, echoed through the air, and Mimzy turned to the source to find Alastor towering over her with his signature grin.
"I don't think redemption is quite her style," Alastor's chipper voice rang out. His clawed hand reached for Mimzy’s hair, plucking a feather from her headpiece. In his hands, the pink ornament erupted into flames. "Frankly, I have my doubts she could even be redeemed at all!"
Horrified, Mimzy watched as her feather fell to the floor in ashes, her hand instinctively reaching for the charred remnants.
"Alastor," Charlie glared at him before turning her attention back to Mimzy. "We believe in redemption for everyone. It's not about what you were; it's about what you choose to be now. We'll be here to support you every step of the way."
"Thanks, sugar," Mimzy forced a smile, waving her hand around daintily. She glanced at the entrance with a subtle wish for escape, playing up the nice act while Alastor continued to watch the scene unfold with a cryptic smile. "But radio here is right. I don't really think it's my style. Different strokes for different folks. Plus, I've got a business to run!"
Alastor hummed, twirling his microphone cane around in his hand. The crimson glow of his eyes narrowed at her as he chuckled. "You couldn't possibly mean that wooden box of debauchery you call a club, right?"
"My 'wooden box of debauchery' has more character than any joint in that city," Mimzy grit her teeth together in a smile, barely concealing her frustration.
As another argument began to form, a throat clearing interrupted the flow, capturing Mimzy's attention. A pink glove slowly rose from the couch and Angel Dust pushed himself off the furniture, sitting up with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"If I may~" Angel Dust chimed in. "You saying you, ah, got a bar? I'm always up for checking out new places. Mind if I swing by sometime, tits?"
Mimzy beamed and sent Alastor a smug look, making her way toward Angel Dust. She reached into her chest, pulling out a card with a flourish. "Of course, kitten! Here's all our information. You'll find us in the Vee district. Feel free to swing by anytime. And don't forget to bring a friend!"
Angel Dust took the offered card, a grin forming on his face. "Bring a friend, huh? You got it, toots."
˚୨୧₊♱
The Vee district, designated as the entertainment hub of Pride, was dazzled with bright neon lights and tall towering buildings adorned with blazing billboards. The streets pulsed with life, where every ten steps brought you face-to-face with street performers desperately vying for attention, hoping to catch the eyes of industry scouts. The message was clear – fame was the ticket to success. Performers were everywhere, found in rundown bars, neon nightclubs, and costly theaters catering to the insatiable appetites of the elite.
Mimzy's Lounge, nestled down east on one of the city's worse-off streets was no fancy stage. The building, weathered and worn, seemed to barely hold itself together. The exterior bore the scars of years gone by, with cracked windows, peeling paint, and near-rotting wooden walls. While it may not have been on the standards of the elite, to the poor and downtrodden, it was the best piece of entertainment they could afford.
Inside, the dim lighting of the bar did little to conceal the stains and cracks that adorned the floor and ceiling. Tables and chairs, mismatched, were arranged haphazardly. The air hung heavy with the smell of cheap perfume, wrapping around the audience—a motley crew of lost souls. On the stage, a couple of scantily clad showgirls were performing a dance routine, or at least their movements vaguely resembled one. The quality of the performance didn't seem to matter to the audience, who, hungry for any form of entertainment, welcomed the spectacle with open arms.
Seated discreetly in the back booths, Angel and Cherri had drawn their curtains tight, creating a cocoon of privacy amid the bustling buzz and thumping music in the club.
"…And check this out – Alastor is hitched," Angel Dust spat out the last word as if it were poison. His face caught the warm, bright lights spilling into their booth, slipping through the small gap in the middle of the curtains. He sipped from his drink, a glint in his eyes. "And the owner here's got some serious dirt on his missus or somethin' like that."
"That why you dragged me to this hellhole? Knew it," Cherri snorted, taking a sip of her cocktail, the sweet and tangy flavors doing little to mask the less-than-pleasant ambiance. "Couldn't believe you'd even want to step into a place like this."
"You know I can't resist a bit of gossip, and where else can you find more gossip than in a joint run by a gal who's got the goods on Alastor himself?" Angel grinned, his golden tooth flashing as he reclined in his torn red chair. "Hell. I bet anyone else would do what I'm doin'. I mean, who wouldn't be tearin' these walls down just to catch a glimpse of the Radio Demon's wife?"
Cherri Bomb let out a throaty chuckle. "Well, you're bloody right there."
A sudden blast of music echoed through the air, prompting Angel Dust to scramble out of his seat and poke his head out from behind the curtain. The previous performers stepped off the stage, making way for the upcoming act. He caught sight of a familiar pudgy figure sauntering onto the stage and hastily turned his head back to the booth, meeting Cherri's amused face. "It's startin'!"
“Welcome, all you devils and darlings, to the Dollhouse Lounge!” Mimzy's voice boomed, and the lights gracefully dimmed to focus on her. The hum of conversation dwindled, the audience's attention now on the stage. “It's the moment you've all been waiting for! The last act of the night… Dolly, the living doll!"
With Mimzy's spirited introduction, the claps and cheers crackled in the air. In an instant, the lights plunged into darkness, leaving Angel to flit his gaze across the smoke-hazed stage, hungry for a glimpse of what was to come. Suddenly, a surge of stage lights sliced through the lingering smoke, akin to a celestial burst, revealing your silhouette with a large signage that spelled out your name in bold, red letters.
Wearing a lovely smile, you spread your arms wide, catching everyone's attention as you sang the first note, voice sultry and dripping sweet like honey. "The name on everybody's lips is gonna be Dolly."
"That's his wife?" Cherri gawked behind Angel, her jaw dropping in disbelief. "Are you sure we got the right girl?"
"Hell, I'm just as surprised as you are," Angel shot back, an equally dumfounded look on his face.
"The lady raking in the chips Is gonna be Dolly," your voice echoed, the melody carrying through the lounge as you strolled towards the stage's platform. The rhythmic beat of the music vibrated against the soles of your heels while the spotlight dutifully trailed after you, its gentle glow caressing the curves of your glittery dress, casting glimmers of silver and gold that danced across the dimly lit bar.
"I'm gonna be a celebrity. That means somebody everyone knows," you continued, sauntering around the stage. As you swirled and twirled, your silhouette became a blur of sequins and shimmer. The spotlight then intensified its focus on you, highlighting the glint in your eyes. "They're gonna recognize my eyes. My hair, my teeth, my boobs, my nose."
"Fuck," Angel muttered under his breath. As you moved closer to the end of the platform, he could finally get a good look at you.
Shimmery blue eyeshadow graced your lids, while a dark blush adorned the apples of your cheeks, complementing the red lipstick you had on. Your dress, a dazzling ensemble of sequins, was not only radiant but also provocatively low-cut, teasingly revealing a glimpse of your chest before gracefully dropping to your knees. Dark silk stockings, sensually tracing the contours of your legs, were held by garters. At your feet, bedazzled red Mary Janes sparkled like jewels, catching the light with every step you took.
As Angel thought back to his conversation with Mimzy, he found himself agreeing with her earlier comments. You really were a living, breathing doll.
"From just some dumb canni-bal’s wife. I'm gonna be Dolly," you continued, seamlessly weaving your magic, each lyric a spell that bound the audience. "Who says that murder's not an art?"
With a spin, you twirled around the stage, a ditzy grin on your face, the sequins on your gown catching the light like stars. "And who, in case she doesn't hang, can say she started with a bang! Dolly Heart!"
As the final notes of the song echoed through the venue, the room erupted in applause and cheers. But, the curtain wasn't falling yet. Standing backstage, Mimzy let the moment linger, reveling in the prolonged applause. After all, happy customers always tipped generously.
On cue, bills and coins descended like a storm, hitting the floor with a crisp sound that mixed beautifully with the cheers of the delighted audience. There was so much that the shower of currency formed a makeshift carpet beneath your feet.
Angel Dust, still peeking from behind the curtain, wore a smirk of approval. "Not bad, not bad at all," he whispered to Cherri, who nodded in agreement.
Standing on the stage, bathed in the lingering glow of the spotlight, you held your pose, chest heaving up and down. A demure smile graced your lips as soft, appreciative nods and fluttering eyelashes accompanied each gaze you cast toward the audience. Tonight's turnout was impressive, though not unexpected given your agreement to perform one of your most famous songs after a prolonged hiatus.
"Dolly" was a beloved crowd-pleaser and the one song you hated with a passion.
The spotlight continued to shine relentlessly in your eyes, causing a painful burn in your irises. The deafening applause felt like a relentless assault on your senses as each clap echoed loudly in your ears. From the speakers, the music blasted in waves, the volume rattling your bones. Showbusiness, a constant companion in both your living and afterlife, had become an achingly familiar yet tormenting cycle.
In the corner of your eye, you saw Mimzy step up onto the stage to address the crowd. "Thank you, my lovely devils and darlings! Wasn't Dolly simply darling tonight?" she squealed through the mic.
The crowd erupted in cheers and applause once more, the energy in the room reaching a fever pitch. Mimzy basked in the adoration, her grin widening as she soaked in the success and the money. Oh, the money.
"I know you loved that!" she laughed. She leaned into the microphone, her voice turning into a whisper "Of course, you all do. I wrote it."
"Now, let's give our star her rest. Dolly, my dear, take a bow!" Mimzy's voice rang out, signaling the end of the performance. Relieved, you bowed before making your way towards the curtains as the heavy fabrics began to descend. After blowing a few more kisses to the audience, you slipped backstage, letting the smile fade from your face. As you vanished from view behind the curtain, Angel caught the look on your face.
It was a look he knew all too well.
"She looks perfectly happy without him," Cherri remarked with a casual shrug. "I mean, look at 'er. She's the star of the show. You think she left on purpose?"
Angel furrowed his brows, deep in thought. It didn't make no sense to him.
Why would you willingly perform under Mimzy's control when Alastor, with his power, could easily get you out of here? Contract or no contract, that radio freak could tear Mimzy apart like a hot knife through butter.
The spider's attention shifted towards the audience, and his gaze locked onto Mimzy, who was engrossed in conversation with some VIPs. The sight of her triggered a scowl to etch itself onto his features.
"I don't think so. There's more to it," Angel's eyes narrowed, the wheels in his head turning, "I've seen that look before."
"What look?" Cherri raised an eyebrow.
"That trapped look," Angel said, his gaze following Mimzy as she continued her animated conversation, oblivious to the scrutiny. "Before the curtains dropped, I saw it on her."
"Shit, Angie," Cherri's gaze followed Angel's, and she pursed her lips. "You think she's playing the part or really stuck?"
Angel Dust stood up straight, now opening the curtains wide as his eyes never left Mimzy. "I don't know, but I'm gonna find out."
Both of them took their time, patiently waiting until Mimzy stepped away. Once the blonde demon finally made her way backstage, they discreetly followed her lead, slipping behind the curtains with her.
The busy backstage corridor welcomed them with an assortment of items – costumes, props, and stage decor – scattered in chaotic disarray. Angel's eyes wandered around, and he spotted Mimzy in a far corner, sitting atop worn cardboard boxes. Nudging Cherri, he gestured for both of them to move closer.
"Hey~ How's it going, blondie?" Angel purred, leaning against a nearby prop, his tone dripping with a sickly sweet tone. Mimzy looked up, confused before she recognized him and flashed a wide grin.
"Hey, you! You're that spider fella from the hotel!" She tapped her chin in thought narrowing her eyes at him. "Uhm, Angle Dust was it?"
"It's Angel Dust," he corrected, a twitch of annoyance in his eye.
"Uh-hah, that's nice," Mimzy seemed unfazed, continuing to count her money, her legs swinging back and forth absentmindedly. "You like the show? Oh, who am I kidding, of course, you did!"
Angel Dust crossed his arms with a chuckle. "Yeah, about that. That girl, Dolly. She's quite a number, ain't she?"
"Oh, yeah. She's my little masterpiece," Mimzy smirked. "Met her before she had any of this."
"Let's cut the fuckin' crap," Cherri rolled her eyes, tired of dancing around the conversation. The cyclops leaned down to Mimzy's height, scowling into her face and driving her finger into the blonde's chest. "I'll say it straight. What's the deal with her? You got some strings attached?"
Mimzy paused and glanced up at Cherri with an arched eyebrow before turning to Angel and laughing tensely. "Your friend here sure is forward, Ankle! Oh, sweethearts, Dolly's here because she wants to be."
Angel Dust shot Cherri a glance, a silent conversation passing between them. "Yeah?"
"The girl signed a contract willingly," Mimzy explained with a casual shrug. "She gets what she wants, and I get what I want. It's a fair exchange."
Angel's eyes narrowed, his skepticism evident. "Contract? What's in it for her, then? Why willingly perform in this dump when she could easily be the star anywhere else?"
The blonde sent Angel a glare for his dig at her lounge but still answered him. "Dolly owes me something. A little debt she's paying off with her charming performances. A contract might sound sinister, but it's just showbusiness, furs." Mimzy leaned back, folding her arms, her expression daring the two of them challenge her further.
"Bull. She sold you her soul to dance and sing?" Cherri scoffed, taking the challenge.
"No, no, there was no soul exchange involved," Mimzy rolled her eyes. "Just a contract. But still binding, magical, and all of that stuff."
"Now, can you two get out of my hair?" Mimzy huffed, shooing them away with a dismissive wave. "I've got a lot of things to run here!" She returned to counting her money, clearly eager to be rid of the unwanted attention.
"Let's go, Cherri," Angel said with a look of defeat, pushing himself off the prop he had been leaning on.
Once the two of them finally stepped out of the establishment, the spider groaned to himself, now finding himself with more questions than answers.
˚୨୧₊♱
You strolled behind the weighty curtains, the backstage area buzzing with the rush of staff, the shouts of managers, and the lingering presence of performers idly awaiting their cues. Navigating through the organized chaos, you directed your steps towards your private dressing room—a sanctuary away from the glaring spotlight.
You threw the door open, entering quickly and slamming it shut behind you, the sudden silence a stark contrast to the clamor and racket outside. Flicking a light switch, the dim glow of a single, flickering bulb hanging from the ceiling revealed the room's worn-out glamour. A vanity cluttered with makeup, costumes haphazardly thrown on a worn-out sofa, and a cracked mirror that had seen better days—all were familiar sights.
"I would kill for a glass of whiskey," you murmured to yourself, the weariness of the performance settling in. Rolling your head and groaning as you heard a satisfying crack, you added, "or maybe a whole bottle of it."
Kicking off your heels, you let the cool floor cradle your skin, leaving the discarded shoes in a dusty corner to rest. Seated at the vanity, the chaotic world beyond the backstage curtains ceased to exist. The gentle glow of the vanity lights exposed the weariness in your eyes as you wiped away your mascara and dusted off the remnants of glitter from your skin. While removing your earrings, the shimmer of your wedding ring caught your eye.
A frown tugged at your lips, the subtle ache of longing surfacing.
You missed your husband.
With a sigh, you continued removing your earrings before tossing them onto your vanity. Seeking to ease the edge, you reached for a whiskey bottle on a nearby dresser, grabbing a glass and pouring yourself a drink. The golden liquid glimmered in the subdued light as you took a sip, the warmth of the alcohol coursing through you.
"C̵h̶e̸r̷?̷"̸
A static rumble of a radio, like thunder, jolted you mid-drink, causing the liquid to catch in your throat. Coughing and sputtering for a while, you scrambled to collect yourself before turning behind you. Your gaze landed on the desk table where your radio sat. The crackling static continued, accompanied by a familiar voice and distorted sounds.
Alastor.
Grabbing a cloth to wipe yourself, you rushed to the desk and grabbed the old radio in your hands. The radio was a faded, worn red with yellowed dials, and its antennas were visibly broken, held up together with scraps of tape. Your contract with Mimzy did not allow you to meet with Alastor or his shadows for as long as you were under her, but that didn't mean you couldn't communicate with Alastor in other ways.
With trembling hands, you carefully adjusted the dials, aligning them to the familiar frequency that bridged the gap between you two. Your heart thrummed in your chest, head almost dizzy from anticipation. The distorted voices began to clear, and Alastor's distinctive voice cut through the static, a lifeline in the abyss.
"Cher, my dear, are you there?" Back in his room at the hotel, Alastor spoke through his mic, awaiting your response. He was sitting by the large windows, bathed in the dim glow of the Ring of Pride's lights. The hues painted a lovely ambiance against his skin, highlighting the contours of his sharp features as he reclined against a plush couch.
Heavy silence lingered for a while as you felt your throat closing up. Without realizing it, you began crying, your sobs echoing through Alastor's microphone.
"Yes, Al," you choked out between sobs, your hands gripping the surface of the radio tightly, nails scratching against the peeling paint. "I'm here. I missed you."
Alastor listened to your tearful voice through the crackling static, his shoulders tense as his claws clenched against his microphone handle. Your vulnerable confession hung heavily in the air, and he felt a storm stirring within him. Unsure of what to do with these emotions, he could only sit there and listen to you weep.
From the busiest street in Pentagram City to the darkest alleyways, Alastor's reputation as a bloodthirsty killer was infamous, and he reveled in it. The idea that an overlord like him could entertain genuine care for someone sounded preposterous. Throughout his human days and beyond, Alastor never felt such sentiments.
Decades ago, he only needed himself. However, ever since you entered his life, he became a man possessed.
The moment he first laid eyes on you, you were a vision of beauty with bright eyes, flushed cheeks, and he couldn't deny that he felt an inkling of fondness for you right from the start. But that was all it ever was—nothing more, nothing less.
Then, seemingly out of nowhere, he couldn't help but notice that the glow in your smile was brighter, lovelier. And despite his usual tendency to dismiss such details, Alastor couldn't look away. Not anymore.
You held him captive, like a deer frozen in the blinding glare of oncoming headlights. He was aware the collision was imminent, yet it still caught him off guard; A torrent of emotions crashing into him like a speeding truck, leaving him with twisted limbs and cracking bones, antlers torn from his head, fur matted and bloodied, with his heart exposed, beating vulnerably before you.
In the months that followed, Alastor remembered how foreign the feeling to him was. He didn't want to understand it, refused to, but each attempt to rip those festering emotions out of his chest only left him bleeding.
Looking back, Alastor finds himself incapable of fathoming how life was bearable before you entered it. The mere thought of returning to a time when you weren't present is something he refuses to entertain. The person he used to be, before he stepped into that speakeasy, now feels like a distant stranger, a mere shadow of the man he has become with you in his life.
The static in his thoughts subsided, in tandem with your crying and sobbing dying down. A prolonged pause lingered before Alastor interrupted the silence. "Cher, you know I'd bring you out of that wretched place if you just said the word."
A bitter laugh escaped your lips as you wiped away tears with your trembling fingers. "You tell me that every time we have these calls. Do you not get tired of it?"
"Never," Alastor hummed. The sound of your laughter, even tinged with bitterness, momentarily lifted the heavy burden that his heart carried. "The offer will always be up, darling!"
"You know I can't, Al. Me and her have history together," your voice paused, cracking with emotion. "And I still feel guilty."
Alastor sighed heavily, frustration dancing in his eyes. He always struggled to understand why you felt indebted to Mimzy, why guilt still clung to your decisions like a persistent shadow.
To him, Mimzy deserved the consequences. Despite his constant offers to free you from her grasp, you remained steadfast in your decision to complete your contract
"Very well, dear," Alastor's smooth voice crackled through the radio, weaving a comforting presence into the air as you moved back toward your vanity, taking a seat. "Now, enough of these melancholic talks. Tell me, how was the show tonight?"
"Mimzy had me perform 'Dolly' again," you remarked, a crooked smile playing on your lips. "She's well aware that I despise that song. I mean, really? Have you ever taken a look at the lyrics? It's a bit on the nose, don't you think?"
As your frustrations spilled out, Alastor stood from his seat, staff in hand. Placing it beside his closet, he attentively listened to your words, occasionally responding with chuckles and interjections. He slipped off his monocle, unbuttoned his suit jacket, and then his vest, revealing a well-tailored red undershirt that clung to his lean frame.
"I find the cannibal's wife line rather charming," Alastor smirked, and though he couldn't see it, you rolled your eyes in response.
"Of course you'd enjoy that part," you scoffed, mirroring Alastor's movements on the other side. Shedding the bedazzled dress, you opted for more comfortable attire, draping yourself in a robe.
"What's not to like? It shows the audience that you're my darling wife," Alastor quipped with a smug tone.
"Bushwa. They don't even know it's you. And I don't think anyone thinks highly of some poor fool shackled to a gaudy singer," you snorted. With the radio in tow, you began to pack your belongings into your purse.
"Don't be ridiculous," Alastor's laugh rumbled against the speakers. "My dear, being 'shackled' to you is the most delightful form of imprisonment."
"Such a sap," you scoffed, unable to suppress the smile that spread across your face. Shouldering your purse, you made your way towards the door, ready to leave. However, a sudden memory of a conversation with Mimzy surfaced.
"By the way, did you know Mimzy was planning to have me perform on some talk show?" you shared with Alastor while locking the door to your dressing room. A furrow appeared on your brow as the backstage lights played with shadows, casting a pensive expression on your face. "What was it again… Oh! Yes! Box-2-Nite."
A sudden screech from the radio erupted, its harsh sound reverberating in the hallway. Luckily, no one was around at this hour, and you cringed at the unexpected disturbance. Glaring at the box, you raised your brow. "You scared the living daylights outta me."
Alastor stayed silent for a while, claws digging into the cloth of his coat, ripping the fabric. With a snap of his head to the side, he dropped it to the floor and moved toward his staff, his shadows playing on the intricate patterns of the carpet beneath his feet.
"Do you perhaps mean… Vox-2-Nite?" His voice, usually smooth, carried an edge.
"Is that the name? I thought you hated telev—Oh. Ohhh..." As you ascended to the higher floors of the building, a realization swept over you.
Alastor's relationship with Vox was complicated. It didn't take a genius to see that. If the ceaseless back-and-forths on broadcasts, the turf wars that had casualties matching mass-extinction events, and the hushed gossip circulating among the other performers were anything to go by.
“Small world,” you chuckled, strolling down the hallway that led to the performers' rooms, the echo of your footsteps blending with the distant murmur of conversation. “I’m guessing I shouldn't take her up on the offer?”
"Absolutely not," Alastor practically snarled out, venom dripping from his tongue. The radio in your hand crackled and buffered, a faint golden glow emanating from the dials. "That pompous piece of shit television is nothing but a clout-chasing, mediocre host flitting between this fad and another on his little picture show podcasts."
“I know, love.” With a swift turn of a doorknob, you opened the door to your flat. "I wasn’t… planning… to…”
Your words trailed off, lingering in the air, as you entered the room. Your eyes widened in awe, captivated by the sight of a bouquet of white roses gracefully adorning your bed.
"Alastor," you spoke into the radio, your voice filled with genuine warmth. "Did you send me roses?"
Back in the hotel, Alastor, settled back into his plush couch. The fiery embers of his anger melting away like a fleeting shadow, replaced by the realization that you had discovered his gift.
A soft chuckle came from the radio, "Guilty as charged, cher. "
Your heart fluttered, and you sank onto the bed, dropping the radio on your mattress and taking the bouquet into your hands. The delicate petals felt soft against your fingers as you admired their beauty. White roses, unlike red ones, were so scarce it was difficult to get a hold of.
"Alastor, this is… wonderful," you spoke into the radio, smile so wide your cheeks almost hurt. "Why—How did you even—How did you even manage to find these?"
"Oh, I pulled a few strings," your husband grinned before chuckling, "and a few limbs too."
Your laughter intertwined with his and Alastor listened fondly, finding solace in the melody of your delight.
The day you inked that deal with Mimzy marked the onset of an agonizing pain he had never experienced before. The thought of leaving your sorrowful self under the wretched contract of that avaricious woman had incited a frenzied rage within him, leading to weeks of unbridled slaughters on the streets of hell.
The blood he spilled onto the sidewalks left a stain on the concrete that lasted months.
Fortunately for you and him, the ordeal was nearing its end. Just one more year remained until Alastor could finally reunite with you. After enduring decades of this agony, an additional year seemed like mercy.
"You like it, cher?" Alastor's voice dropped an octave lower, the satisfaction evident in his tone, pleased to bring happiness to your moment.
"Yes," you laugh, cradling the bouquet in your hands. "I like it very much."
˚୨୧₊♱
4K notes · View notes
ibbythebee · 6 months
Text
Anything
Tumblr media
pairing: Fred Weasley x Prefect!Reader
summary: Fred would do anything to see you, 'Hogwart's strictest Prefect', loosen up.
genre: fluff 'n stuff, and only slight angst, also borderline slowburn
warnings: swearing, bullying moments, implied that reader is in Slytherin, lots of teasing, flirting, kissing, Fred is completely and utterly whipped for reader, "your highness" nickname
a/n: not me in the middle of writing a neville fic and then having a shower thought of a fred x reader and writing this instead.
words: 6.9k
masterlist
»»————- ⌁ ————-««
You can hear them. And you know it's them, because of the sniggering and that laugh.
By now, when you patrolled outside of class hours you'd find yourself actively seeking out these boys. Today happens to be good day to continue your spotless Prefect record.
With a hand sliding to your hip, you smoothly round the corner of the door to your Potions classroom and as you suspected, Fred and George Weasley are there, huddled over a particular cauldron. Something's clearly already been brewed and Fred is holding a cork screwed flask with the mysterious liquid.
It takes a minute until Fred happens to glance toward the door and sees you there, nose in the air and hands now clasped in front of you. He's trying not to laugh when he sees you, and elbows his brother.
The said Weasley is about to say something, but as he meets your gaze his lips press together in a slightly curved line.
Successful in catching their attention, one eyebrow and then one corner of your lips gently raise. "We've really got to stop bumping into each other like this."
"I think you wanted to bump into us," Fred says with a prominent smile. He looks innocent, just like always.
You neither confirm nor deny his remark and instead stride closer to them. You take your time, head turning in each direction, eyes scanning for any other suspicious looking activity. It feels good, because you can feel their stares and how they wait with bated breaths for your next move.
With a last step you settle on the opposite side of their table. You look at Fred, head tilted softly, studying his expression.
His smile only grows when you reach his eyes and it's finally time to address the elephant in the room.
In a newly straightened posture you say in a slow and sarcastic tone, "did you know... that I can take away points from your House? From each of you, in fact?"
"Oh, come on. Our favourite Prefect. Can't you pretend you never saw us, like last time?" George answers.
"Sorry what was that? You'd like 30 points taken away?"
"Hey, hey, hey!" Fred waves with a chuckle, "let's not get hasty. What about... a-a compromise?"
George nods desperately.
Your eyebrow raises again, and you lean back, crossing your arms. "A compromise, instead of taking away your precious points?"
"Yes, we'll do anything."
"Anything?"
"Anything." Fred glides a tongue over his bottom lip, speaking to you through his eyes.
For once he looks completely serious and it makes you smile in delight. An expression seldom found in your features. It's completely magical and Fred finds no regret to bargaining with you.
"There is something you can do for me," your eyes glaze over Fred's face and then you turn to George, leaning forward over the table on your elbows. "The next Quidditch Game."
"Yeah? Slytherin v Gryffindor. Need us to bug someone?" George grins.
You shake your head and smile again. You're frighteningly beautiful with that curve on your face as you continue. "I need you to make sure that Slytherin wins."
"What?"
Fred captures your attention, so you lean in closer to his side of the desk. "It shouldn't be too hard for you both, right?"
He squints, unable to hold back a smile of his own. In the previous times when you had caught the twins in the middle of scheming, you'd never been so coy with them. Ruffling your feathers a bit was always the boys' goal when getting caught by you, however now that you seem to be playing along, Fred can't get enough. "That's hardly something to wish for, your highness. You can have anything from us, really anything. Don't hold back."
You shrug, "well, that's what I choose."
"But if you think about it you cou—"
"I can take the points off now, if you like? It's really no problem."
"Fine. W-We'll do it." George huffs, and his brother follows with a playful bow.
"Your wish is our command."
"Please just don't take the points off. We'll be kicked out of Gryffindor if you snitch again."
"Me? Snitch?" Your voice drips in sarcastic innocence, and you push yourself off of the desk. Your feet turn to walk back outside first, but your eyes remain on Fred until it's physically impossible to stay focused on him. As you saunter to the door, you feel their gazes on you again and it's oh so satisfying to know that you get the last say. "You need to get better at not getting caught. Because, if I didn't know any better, it looks more like you want me to bump into you."
You turn around to face them again, and stare at the flask in between Fred's long fingers. By some miracle you'd never found yourself to be the butt of their schemes, unlike the other prefects. Even as a chaser of the twins' opposition in Quidditch, you've been the only lucky soul on your team to come out the other end. The question was why? Why spare you?
"Who in Salazar's name threw that?" Your captain shrieks, massaging the back of his head, small flakes of snow dropping to the skin of his neck.
How bothersome, you think, looking around at the rest of your teammates who're busy cooling down after Quidditch training.
"What?! A snowball just happens to gain sentience and hit me, huh? An owl maybe? Just come forward, admit you did it and I'll go easy on you—"
The spray of snow flies off of the captain's head again and you dodge the icy substance in time, some of it landing on your beater and chaser teammate. Everyone exclaims except you, you're too busy scanning over the field.
Suddenly, the burly boy of a captain huffs toward you, and you take a shove to the shoulder.
Stumbling back by a metre, you frown. Increasingly annoyed by your captain's baseless judgements. "What the hell is wrong with you? How many times do I have to tell you I'm a prefect?"
"I know a guilty person when I see one."
You're about to give him a piece of your mind until the idiot is hit again and you stifle a laugh at the noise he makes.
"Clever," he says through gritted teeth. Despite clearly looking at you just seconds before the snowball made contact with his thick skull, his pride is still hell-bent on accusing you. "I knew you were good at school, but I didn't think you'd stoop so low to use non-verball spells for something so stupid."
"Well, I knew you were delusional before, but now it's perfectly clear that you just don't have a brain."
As though your words were a signal, a tsunami of white ice balls appear in the sky and you don't hold back your smile as it pauses over your team. They each look up, faces with panicked expressions, and before they can even begin to escape, the snow crashes down over your peers. Figuring, it's the perfect moment to leave, you zoom out of the field on your broom and land to your feet once you can't see those angry faces anymore.
And that's when you hear him. That laugh, and he's looking at you and combing a hand through his ginger hair, all whilst adorning a satisfied ear-to-ear grin.
"Thanks." Is all you can say at first, then you realise his partner-in-crime George isn't right by his side. "Where's your brother?"
"On the other end of the field."
You nod. When you don't say anything more and turn to leave, you feel long fingers wrap around your wrist. He's warm against your icy skin, and your eyes shoot up, only to be greeted by a soft smirk.
"You're not going to snitch on us are you, your highness?"
"Me? Snitch?" You stop yourself from feeling so giddy about the previous event and instead focus on the fact that would you be doing your prefectoral duties correctly, you would have absolutely told a Professor about the twins. But the adrenaline rush feels too great and so you finally shake your head at the tall ginger. "You were just... watching us practice, right? I don't see anything suspicious about that."
His smirk twists into a genuine smile, and he allows your wrist to slide out of his grasp. A twinkle of mischievousness reaches your eyes, and then you're off, jogging into the distance. A few metres in, you take a chance to glance back to where you left Fred. And you don't know whether it was from training or the adrenaline, but you feel your neck and cheeks flare with heat at the sight of him lean against the frame of the entrance, steadily watching you run.
Clearing your throat, you push your recollection of the past away and take out your wand.
“You know you’re not allowed to use spells outside of class, your highness,” says Fred, his voice playful.
“That’s okay,” you shrug, “because I know you won’t tell on me.”
“Are you quite sure about that?” George chimes.
You nod immediately, the easiest question to answer. “I’m your favourite prefect, am I not?”
Fred’s expression is unreadable to you at first as he shakes his head slowly. He looks shocked, but at the same time pleased and a hint of something else that you can’t quite grasp.
Figuring you’ve stared at him long enough you send the twins’ a wink and the door shuts with a swipe of your wand.
»»————- ⌁ ————-««
Your robe is floating behind you, a spitting image of Professor Snape, as you walk with purpose to your class, books cradled in your arms and head held high. You round a corner of the halls smoothly and find yourself at your Potions classroom. It's been a week since finding the Weasleys in there, and you still haven't found out what concoction they had created.
In any case, your class has already begun, and Snape's voice is barely audible with the door in front of you. You let your fingers clench around your books for a moment, taking in a breath. Then you push your way in, and each one of your classmates turn their attention to you.
"How lovely of you to join us, Miss L/N."
Having already predicted the Professor's sarcasm-filled reaction to your tardiness, you hand out a small slip of paper. "A note from Professor McGonagall."
He barely skims over the words and indicates for you to find a seat. Fingers clenching around your books again, you let yourself look over your peers. There's a seat next to Ginger Jorkins from Hufflepuff, but after noticing your stare she's quick to put her belongings where you could have sat. You hold off from sighing, because to your relief there is one more free seat, all the way at the back of the room. Right beside the vacant spot is a familiar head of red hair, and the pain from your tight grip subsides upon seeing him. That sigh you've been holding lets free once you sit down and the class continues.
"Welcome to the back of the class," Fred whispers with his signature grin. "You're with the cool kids now."
"Speaking of..." You glance behind him and frown. "Where's your brother?"
He makes a face. "What do you mean?"
"I mean..." And then it hits you. The Slytherin versus Gryffindor Quidditch Game. The compromise. The "make-sure-that-Slytherin-wins" game. The "George-has-been-completely-annihilated-by-a-bludger" and "won't-be-walking-around-anytime-soon" game.
"Oh... right."
Fred simply nods, finding the way you froze for a moment to be equally funny and endearing. The rest of your face doesn't show it, but he notices the panic in your pretty eyes and gives your arm a little nudge. "Hey. The git's okay. Says it was worth the pain because the girl he fancies paid him a visit."
You bite your lip and let yourself focus on Snape, who's mouth is moving, but you can't hear anything coming out. "It's still technically my fault. He looked awful."
Fred leans forward, his head turning to rest against his crossed arms. He studies your features as you attempt to listen into the class. When he speaks, his voice is a whisper again. "Come to Hogsmeade with me."
You give him a side glance. No one's ever invited you to come before and for all you know he could be making fun of you. It'd been hard in the beginning, though you eventually found comfort being in your own presence; drinking butterbeer while other people joked and laughed and shared stories and the gossip of the week. And talked about how they received a pointless detention after being told off from that know-it-all bitch.
"I-I don't..." You stumble upon your words, the crease between your brows growing deeper as you try to recollect your thoughts.
"Yeah, you're coming," he declares. And when you go to protest, he sits back up, sending you a wink.
"AND so..." Snape glares in your direction, "by the end of this class, I will be testing the quality of your potions by using a simple leaf. If it melts you've brewed successfully, and if not... you'll be in here on the weekend till you get it right."
To your surprise, Fred doesn't make a fuss, instead he beams at you with a clap of his hands. "Let's get started then, shall we Professor?"
The said man only grunts in response, so you all begin.
Forty minutes passes by in an instant, and no matter how well you follow the recipe, the liquid in your cauldron doesn't look like a liquid anymore and it smells differently to Fred's.
Wait. Fred's?
You frown down into his cauldron. His potion's immaculate.
You pull at the sleeve of his robe till his head comes down and his long hair tickles the tip of your nose. "How are you doing this?"
"I'm smart when I want to be," he chuckles.
"That's not an answer. I demand you give me an answer, or... I will take off points from Gryffindor."
He feigns an expression of shock which immediately gives way to a smirk, face just a few inches away from yours. "And what if I do tell you? You promise not to snitch?"
"Me? Snitch?"
That mischievousness is back into your dolomitic eyes, and Fred swears that the potion isn't required to melt the leaf.
"How about a compromise?" you whisper.
He shoots a glance toward the Professor and then hums when he feels it's all clear to keep talking. "I'm listening."
"I come with you to Hogsmeade, and I promise to do whatever you want to do. Deal?"
He doesn't need a moment, or even a second to reply. He's already nodding, slipping a hand into yours. "Deal."
You share a knowing look and shake your intwined hands. Compromise confirmed. "Now—"
Before you get to finish, he pulls out a very familiar cork-screwed flask, and in perfect fashion you keep from gasping or reacting at all, but Fred can see it in your eyes. He scans over the classroom, Snape's busy writing something on the board, and so he's clear to lower his head to you.
Your fingers graze as he passes you the concoction he had made with his brother. Electricity runs through the veins of your fingers till it hits your heart, skipping a beat.
"Someone might've tipped us off about this assignment," Fred murmurs. "So, naturally, we just wanted to be prepared. There was no way we were going to miss out on a Hogsmeade visit."
Not with George in the Hospital Wing, you think to yourself with guilt, pulling your robe sleeve down to hide the flask should your Professor stop by.
"Well... my beloved brother sadly will. I'll never forget his bravery." Fred makes a show out of a simple sigh and you feel like slapping his arm. He places his hand over his chest and sighs again, only it's a little louder this time and longer. "A girl we know threatened us to rig the Quidditch game so that Slytherin would win, if we didn't do as she asked she would've gotten us into trouble—"
"Fred." Images of the poor Weasley twin with a whole half of his body covered in the sickening colour of a bruise flood your brain.
"—and being the good man that he is, Georgie sacrificed himself, in order to satisfy the needs of this girl."
"Oi! I already feel horrible, okay?" You finally give his arm that well-earned smack, and when all he does is laugh, you huff with a pout.
He recollects himself, and makes sure Snape's still preoccupied. He bends down to your level again, and his breath fans over the strands of hair by your ear. "I would do the same for this girl."
There's that heat in your neck again and yet another electric feeling runs up your spine at his worlds. You don't meet his gaze and instead stare forward. To save yourself from embarrassment, you lift your chin and with one swift movement, the liquid from the flask falls into your cauldron.
Fred watches in delight as you stir until your previously horrible creation morphs and dissolves into that flawless fluid that you had just seen in the Weasley's cauldron. From such a result, you're unable to stop yourself as your lips curl into a smile, parting slowly to reveal your teeth.
You are the embodiment of this potion. Any person or creature of the magical world would completely disarm at the sight of your expression. And Fred's lucky enough to be your first victim.
"You seem very pleased, Miss L/N."
The black figure of Snape shadows yours and Fred's vision as he glides in front of your desk. He peers into your cauldron, nothing shows on his face and then he's examining Fred's, the same reaction of nothing.
The man then clicks his tongue and floats back to the front of the classroom, picking two leaves off of the plant on his desk. He returns swiftly, gesturing the rest of the class to join him by your table.
"Look closely." Snape says as his hand hovers over your creation, and then his fingers let go of the green object.
Hushed breaths watch as it hits the surface of the liquid with a ripple. There's no reaction at first and it fills you with dread. You even see Fred stiffen in the corner of your sight.
Then the leaf twitches with a change in colour, and soon it's no where to be seen, dissolved. Successful.
Someone mutters a 'wow', others share glances of contempt or roll their eyes. You on the other hand feel relieved and lean onto your hip, arm brushing against the tall boy beside you. He relaxes at your gentle touch.
"It seems you will have the fortune of freedom this weekend." Professor Snape mutters, and then with no time to waste, moves on to Fred. You barely have a chance to thank the man. His hand hovers, fingers open and a new leaf falls.
In a blink, the leaf has melted and you feel the Weasley straighten up in pride.
Snape however, isn't convinced and folds his arms. "How convenient that you should produce a successful potion - out of many failures - when seated beside Miss L/N."
Innocent until proven guilty, you think and look up at Fred, who's only smiling like a fool, his focused trained on Snape's. Your classmates murmur, and it isn't hard to place who they're talking about with their not-so subtle glares pointed in your direction.
"So I did a good job?" The boy's happy expression grows with innocence.
"Somehow. Five points... to each of you." The raven-haired man admits, his gaze lingers on the Weasley before he turns away, addressing you both and the rest of the class. "L/N and Weasley, seeing as you have completed the task, you may be dismissed. However, by next class I expect a 2,000 word written report of your method and findings. That'll be all. The rest of you... you have fifteen minutes."
Groans and curses hidden under breaths echo through the room, you and Fred, however, turn to each other with eyebrows raised and stupid grins plastered over your faces.
Adrenaline kicks in, and you both scramble to clear up the desk and snatch up your belongings. You sprint out the door not after sending the Professor a 'thank you', and then you're out the door and sprinting into the courtyard, crisp winter air nipping at your extremities.
You pause by the fountain, leaning against the tall structure and Fred follows suit, situating himself in front of you. "I can't believe I did that," you say in a breathless tone still grinning, books hugging into your chest.
He chuckles in between his own pants of breath. "Feels good doesn't it, your highness?"
"I hate to admit but... yes."
You watch as his gaze on you softens, as well as his grin subduing into contentment. "You make a good partner-in-crime. I think I might just replace George."
"Then he will surely kill me once he's recovered! That is... if he doesn't already."
Fred winks, "I'll make sure that won't happen. A princess such as yourself deserves a knight-in-shining armour."
"Oh yes." You give a curtsy and wave of your hand, your voice forming a posh accent. Well, no more posh than you already sound. "Then will you do the honour of escorting me to Hogsmeade tomorrow?"
With a fist to his chest, Fred bows. "For you, my dear, anything."
»»————- ⌁ ————-««
It's irregular of you to be so fashionably late. Last night you'd found yourself restless, thoughts of sleep hidden behind scenes of you and Fred eating candy together, laughing, using magic outside of class to throw snowballs at your Quidditch Captain. Despite the chill of a winter night, being covered by your duvet and blankets was suffocatingly warm, especially when you kept seeing Fred pull you behind a tree, gloved hands drawing you into him by your hips, noses barely touching and lips parted with warm butterbeered breaths.
Your chocolate-brown screech owl whinnies by the foot of your bed and you flinch, adjusting your beanie for the hundredth time. "What do you think, Prim? Do I look tired? I look tired, don't I?"
The owl blinks and gives another whinny, a sound similar to that of a miniature pony. You check the clock on the wall of your dormitory and bite your lip, jostling through your belongings and retrieving a small purse of galleons to shove into your coat pocket.
One more look in the mirror, just one more. Your hair looks surprising lovely, strands of it squished against your thick scarf, and fortunately covering areas of your blemished face that couldn't be covered enough by your concealer. "It'll have to do!"
Prim purrs when you stroke her head and then you're off. You almost trip at the bottom of the stairs and as a result you pause, taking in a breath, calming the pounding in your chest. This Hogsmeade visit is just like any other. Just like any other. You’re just… not alone this time. That’s enough to get you smiling, as you saunter through the halls and finally out the gates, where you see a few groups of students still hanging around Hogwarts.
At the top of the steps you crane your neck in an attempts to find Fred amongst the small groups.
“I was beginning to think you stood me up.”
You spin on your heels at the sound of his voice, and are greeted with a growing grin. Teeth sparkling and everything. It takes a toll on you not to tackle him in a hug right then and there. The thick hoody he’s adorning, as well as the adorable beanie all look extra cuddly. Those gloved hands that you’ve been thinking about slide out of the pockets of his jeans and reach for your scarf, gently tightening the fabric around your face and neck.
On the outside you seem unbothered by his action, but he already sees what you’re really feeling through those dolomitic eyes of yours. “A deal’s a deal,” you finally say. “But it was rude of me to keep you waiting so long, so I’ll buy you a butterbeer.”
He shakes his head, fiddling with the hem of the scarf. “You turning up is enough for me.”
You shake your head back, dipping your chin into the material to hide your smile. “I’m buying you one. Argument over.”
“Alright then.” He chuckles and gives your scarf a gentle tug. “No more time to waste, your highness, let’s go.”
“Lead the way, Sir Weasley.”
You’re perfectly giddy as you trudge your way to the little village. Fred tells you about his plans for Christmas and you tell him yours, not very big and not very exciting, but he adores listening to you speak. He tells you about George and his recovery, and teases you when he sees guilt written over your face. Then despite your many differences, you both bond over your love for Quidditch, especially the Irish team. Occasionally, your shoulders and arms graze, and other times your fingers, as you stomp through the snow covered grounds. With every touch your chest grows warm, and your belly flips. You almost forget that you should be looking out for any bad behaviour. You almost forget that you still have a duty to uphold to the school.
Hogsmeade is bustling with life when you finally arrive. More so now that you could share it with someone.
“Come on, let’s warm up first.” Fred tugs your scarf again and successfully gains your full attention. He pulls you into the Three Broomsticks, greeted immediately by a wave of warmth. He’s still pulling on your scarf so you swiftly ask for two hot butterbeers and allow him to lead you to a table at the far end of the room.
“Am I your pet? Leading me around like that.” You sit down opposite him, motioning to his hand still holding onto the end of the long material.
He hums for a moment, and doesn't look to have any intention of letting go. “More like restraining you from going into ‘prefect’ mode.”
"Hey! Some people need disciplining," you pout.
"You sound like a Professor..." he narrows his eyes at you, lacking the skills to stop smiling so big. "You're not Professor Snape using Polyjuice potion, are you? Trying to figure out my secrets for passing your class, huh?"
Slowly, meticulously you straighten your back and fold your hands over the table, and void any emotion on your face. Your voice is low and slow and articulating every syllable as you speak. "What a ri-di-cu-lous suggestion. However... while we are on the topic, you didn't... copy off me, did you?"
Fred is so bad at suppressing his smirk. "Bloody Norah, you found me out! You're so smart, Profess— I mean... your highness."
The clink of glass hitting your table interrupts yours and Fred's thoughts. Madam Rosmerta's standing over you and when you meet her gaze she winks. "Good to see you with company this time around, Y/N."
Your face squishes into the fabric that Fred's still holding onto as you feel heat rise in your cheeks. Desperate to eliminate the fact that she basically just called you a loner in front of him, you fish into your pocket and pull out some coins, placing them onto the woman's open palm. "Thank you, Madam Rosmerta."
"Pleasure, dears. Enjoy.” Another wink is sent your way and she’s off to tend the rest of her pub.
As you bring the hot beverage to your mouth, you peek through your eyelashes. Fred has removed one glove and is now using that bare hand hold onto his drink, allowing the warmth to transfer into his already warm skin.
"Thank you," he says.
Your brows press together, "what for?"
"For paying."
"Well... thank you too."
He raises an eyebrow as he takes a good sip of the butterbeer, waiting for you to elaborate.
"For inviting me," you say shyly, fingers sliding across the surface of the mug.
"Awh, that's nothing," he chuckles, gently swaying your scarf.
"It's not 'nothing'. I didn't get a wink of sleep last night because I was so excited to come with you."
The ginger-haired boy presses his lips together tightly and then leans his face closer to you. "Wait, really?!"
How many times has it been now that you've felt your face heat up around Fred? You could play so coy and confident before, but now you felt like any other girl-with-a-crush in your year. "As a matter of fact, yes." You raise your chin and attempt to sit up straighter. "I know it may seem that I only agreed to come because of a compromise, but... I really did — do — appreciate you considering me."
"I don't think we'll need to stop by Honeydukes, your highness. You're so sweet, that my teeth already ache."
"You're so...!" You smack his arm.
But he's grinning like a fool, pulling at your scarf. "I'm so what?"
"I'm gonna take points off Gryffindor, just because you asked."
He guffaws, "what is this abuse of power?"
You take a swig of butterbeer and shrug, head high and smirk on display. "I like to call them perks."
"See?" You feel on your neck as he gives a tug-tug. "This is why you need to be kept on a lead."
Before you can retort, you notice he's pointing at his upper-lip and quietly chuckling. It sets off your heart.
"Brilliant moustache you got there," he says.
"Oh... thank you." How embarrassing. You really thought he was suggesting something else for a moment there. You glance around the room to make sure no one's watching before you slide a tongue over the sweet foam above your lip. "Is it gone?"
"Just..." at first there's a second of hesitation, but then he pulls you in over the table and meets you half-way, un-gloved hand coming up to cup your face. Why is he always so warm? Why is it that one of the most notorious rule-breakers of the school is taking your fancy? And so easily at that.
It feels like an hour passes when his thumb smooths over the left corner of your mouth and you hold in a breath, fingers clenched around your mug. You simply cannot help the urge to look at his own lips; pretty, pink and gently parted, calm breaths passing through.
His movements pause all of a sudden, so you glance at his eyes, but he's already looking at you. Completely under your spell, completely forgetting how to move, and completely forgetting that you're in public. You seem to have forgotten the same, still not pulling away from his touch. He catches your eyes dip to his lips again and he swallows thickly.
Then he's moving away and sitting back down, clearing his throat. "There, now you're good."
"Thanks," you wipe a finger over for extra measure and then look out the window, clearing your throat and straightening your back.
"You know how you mentioned that part of the deal was that we'd do anything I want to do?" He inquires, finishing his drink with a last swig.
"Yeah. A deal is a deal," you answer, finally turning back to him, surprised to see a confident smile carved into his features.
"Perfect. There's something I want to show you, but first I have a really good idea to help you unwind and forget about your prefect-ness."
"That doesn't sound good," you tease, chugging the last bit of your own butterbeer.
He's smirking now, "you won't be saying that when you see what we'll be doing."
»»————- ⌁ ————-««
You're both crouched behind a boulder that oversees the Shrieking Shack in the distance. The perfect spot to spy on anyone who visits the lookout point. The perfect spot to snog outside of school walls. And it also happens to be the perfect spot to stock up on snowballs and wait for one particular person to fall into your trap.
"I hate to admit, but you were right, Sir Weasley. Again," you mutter, rubbing your gloved hands together.
"The more you hang out with me, the more you'll find out just how right I always am." He peeks over the boulder for a moment and then his hand shoots up in alarm, speaking in barely a whisper, "he's here."
He is. You can hear your Quidditch captain now and a few of his buddies, chatting and laughing. Someone puts on a voice, and it makes the group howl, but makes your stomach churn. The closer they get to the lookout, the clearer their words sound and the more you're looking forward to breaking the rules.
"—thinks she's all that, just 'cause she's a prefect. Like, bitch, I'm older than you!"
Their laughter is equal to that of nails on a chalkboard. Pelting them with some snowballs might not be fulfilling enough.
"Nah, it's 'cause she's got Snape behind her, hah. Thinks she can say and do whatever she wants."
Fred is hearing all of this. You feel like screaming, and perhaps hexing the hell out of all of them. They need a proper disciplining.
"Yeah, that's probably what's happening!" The group laugh again, and the next thing they say is the last straw. "She only got prefect because she's fucking him."
The bottom of your vision is blurry, but you tell Fred you're ready and he only nods. You both raise your wands, and he counts to three.
One snowball hits the back of the captain's head and to your satisfaction he lands on his face. You and Fred are enjoying the scene a little too much that it isn't until one of the idiots shout your name, do you realise you've blown your cover.
"Shoot!"
"Quick! We need to unleash all we've got!" Fred takes your free hand and guides you up to stand beside him. "One, two, THREE!"
Adrenaline shoots through your veins, as together you swish your wands and the rest of your snow pile is sent into the air. One more flick of the wands, and the balls fly with the speed of a snitch. Straight toward their faces. Exclamations, grunts, yells echo through the woods and open winter air. They swipe at their faces and eyes, blinded by your attack. The captain's still trying to recover from the first hit, from head to toe the entire front half of him is covered in white.
You let out a laugh, and suddenly Fred takes your hand again and you're sprinting away from the crime scene.
"HEY!" The Quidditch captain shouts after you, pure rage in his tone.
But you couldn't care less, because that grin on the Weasley's face is too contagious as you run by him, gloved hand in gloved hand.
He peeks over his shoulder to meet your gaze, only resulting in a skip of his heart and a flip of his stomach. Losing that Quidditch match was absolutely worth it, and Fred had to remind himself to thank George later for taking the blow.
You share breathless laughter as the shouts increase in amount, but decrease in volume. You're both much too fast for them and manage to get back to the village where you could hide within the crowds.
Your feet slow to a walk, and you both check if any of the idiots followed. Fred spots two pass by a tree and squeezes your hand to gain your attention.
"In here," he jerks his head, and pulls you into a small alley between two buildings.
Finally having a moment to catch your breath, you realise that it isn't really an alley, and more like a small gap. The space is so narrow in fact that your body is essentially pressed up against his. Back against wall. Heaving chest against heaving chest. Feet and legs side-by-side each other as though woven.
You don't care to look to your left where those jerks could be looking for you. You simply can't. You can't because all you can see are Fred's parted lips again, and he's looking down at yours. After which, your gazes meet and you don't think you've ever felt so hot in the middle of winter before.
"You're so beautiful," he breathes. No grin, no smirk, no teasing, just facts.
"And you're..." Your eyes dip again.
His hand slides out of yours, and then you feel weight by your hips and he's squeezing against the material of your pants and sweater.
You crane your neck, and he dips his head, as those gloved hands of his pull you into him.
Your own hunger has your fingers smooth over his chest and grip the collar of his hoody, desperately tugging for him to come closer and closer, tension in the air building with each breath.
"And I'm... what?" He purrs.
Something stirs in the bottom of your abdomen as the scent of butterbeer fills your senses, just millimetres away now. And then he captures your lips. And it's like heaven, because his hands can't help but slide up under your sweater and hold you by the skin of your waist.
At first the kiss is gentle, hesitant, but then you open your mouth a little wider and Fred takes this as a clear invitation. He smooths a tongue over yours, the taste of the sweet foamy drink still lingering on your lips.
His bold action elicits a hum from you, and his grip only tightens, craving more and more of you and your pretty sounds. You go until you can't breathe, mouths parting reluctantly but eyes still closed.
Fred presses his forehead against yours, your noses brushing in a feather-like touch. His thumbs caress your sides as he whispers, "you never answered my question."
"You wanna know what you are, right?” You murmur, hands sliding down over his collarbone and resting on his chest.
“Yeah. You’ve said it twice now and never finished your sentence.”
“Okay,” you lean in, lips feathering over his. “You’re…”
Good Godric you’re addicting. He pushes his head forward to meet you, but you pull back with the most attractive breathy laugh he's ever heard. Your lips stay brushing against his, but you won't give him any more than that and he loves it.
"You're..." you say again on his mouth, and he hangs on every single one of your words. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me at Hogwarts."
He watches your eyes for a moment, and leans into you once more, hands climbing up to lay flat against your back, your sweater pooling by his wrists. And you share the softest kiss ever, full of adoration, full of care, full of absolute affection.
"You saying that, you being here right now... feels like I've just won the Quidditch cup," he says when you part.
"I really mean it, Fred." You wrap your arms around his middle and squeeze him there, cheek squishing into his chest. "You've heard how people talk about me, but you don't seem to care about any of that stuff."
He returns your gesture, his own cheek landing on the top of your head. "You're right. I don't care about it, because I've seen how much you care for the school and care for keeping things in order. A little too much, but to each their own."
"Oi."
"I have to tease, I have to. Still, joking aside, if anyone says that kind of shit about you and you hear about it, find me and tell me. Me and Georgie have your back."
"Just don't get caught," you smirk.
"You won't take points away if you catch us, will you?"
You pull away from the cuddle and send him that beautifully, intimidating smile of yours. "Not if you promise to keep losing your Quidditch games."
"Low blow, your highness!" He laughs and then you're running away, giggling like a fool.
You manage to slip through the crowds and head toward the woods by the Shrieking Shack lookout, your giggles only getting louder and more frequent when you see Fred bounding closer and closer to you. Your cadence slows when the ground starts to feel icy under your boots, and sooner than you think, you feel arms wrap around your stomach and you squeal.
Fred's laugh vibrates against your back, and after a few pants of breath he speaks into your ear. "There's still something I wanted to show you."
"Oh?" You spin around in his hold. "That's right. What is it then?"
"Surprise. Follow me." He's hasty in his movements, as he takes your hand, running further into the woods. Then he rounds the corner of a large tree trunk, his fingers slip out of yours as he twists around to face you and then he's pulling you by your hips, grin on display.
Your heart flips when your back meets with the rough surface of the tree, bodies pressing into one another and then his mouth is hovering over yours. There's hunger in his eyes, yet he's waiting for your next move.
"Wow. 'I have something to show you'. That was so corny," you tease in a whisper.
He chuckles, feeling your lips just barely touch his, "but you loved it."
"I did. You're right again, Sir Weasley."
"Always am, your highness."
He squeezes your hips. You lift your chin and you kiss for a third time that day.
2K notes · View notes
kat-luv-pt2 · 29 days
Note
Hear me out actress!reader where y/n and lando meet at a club or bar and have a one night stand. The next morning they both realize who the other one is (their celebrity crush) when paparazzi photos of them leaving together the night before are leaked and dating rumors rise.
What happens in Vegas
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing: lando norris x fem!actress!reader
plot: just about what it says in the request
warnings: implied smut, alcohol overconsumption, gambling
notes: took me some time to get to this because i was battling the physics demons, no like detailed smut in this piece but maybe in the future i'll be comfortable to write it 👍👍👍
Tumblr media
Although being quite famous for your many successful acting roles, shockingly enough, you'd never been to Las Vegas. New York and Los Angeles was ticked off for cities you had been in, but Vegas was still one to visit, so you jumped at the opportunity to go to the Las Vegas grand prix when you received the invite. Having arrived a few days early with your best friend, what better way was there to kill time than seeing the local sights, and what would a trip to Vegas be without going to a casino? Nothing. That's how you two ended up gambling away money at slot machines on a random evening from your trip, you adorned in sunglasses and a hat (which seemingly got lost along the way) to not get recognised, even though it turned out to not be of much point considering the obnoxiously loud music and the ambient lighting not really allowing people to think nor see each other properly, and with the amount of alcohol in the area, even if someone did recognize you, they'd probably forget by the time they were outside.
After wasting a few hundreds on the machines and alcohol, a certain burst of confidence gave you the idea to leave your friend at the slot machine and instead move to the games of poker nearby. So with a few grand and having seen your father play poker a few times when you were young and getting taught like once, you joined when a new game began, pushing some of your money towards the middle, receiving a few smirks from the players around the table. As the cards began to be dealt, a voice beside you sat down, "count me in as well" you turned your head to look at the curly-haired guy next to you pushing a large amount of money to the middle as the others whistled, impressed but one of them spoke up, "you young ones are good to play with, always bring a lot and leave with nothing" to which he was met with laughter from around the table. The curly-haired guy spoke up in a British accent "we'll see about that," giving you a quick wink and getting laughed at by the others.
The game had definitely gone better than expected, with the small heap of tokens in front of you but the others were definitely doing better and the money at stake had probably more than doubled by now, along with the amount of whiskey in everyone's body. The only person who was doing worse than you was the Brit next to you, who's face you just couldn't quite see because of the dim lighting and alcohol intoxication. Just as a quick break had started for the sake of getting more alcohol, an arm snaked round your shoulders, pulling you closer, "Look I'm doing shit, you're not far from that, and that pile there," he pointed to the cash, "is mostly our money, and I kind of want it. We have no chance against that lot alone, but work with me and we could get some money from that, split it 50/50, what'd you say girlie?" His warm breath whispered in your ear as you looked at your cards, the money, the older guys across the table and then back at the guy offering, downing the rest of the whiskey in your glass, you replied "count me in."
The game had gone much better after the break and it was just you and one other guy left, after Lando had masterfully helped you gain the bigger token heap (along with the better cards) as he rested his head on your shoulder, staring at your cards, you wondered about your next move, seeing no other option, you spoke "all in" you moved your tokens to the center, Lando's head springing up from your shoulder and hissing in your ear, "what the fuck are you doing?" But not being able to wipe the drunken smirk off your face as the your opponent also put also his tokens at stake and set his cards down, "flush" you were met with a smirk as you pretended to be shocked, convincing him you had no better cards. The tokens were slowly moved away from you and Lando, as Lando's jaw hardened and you could feel his eyes drilling into the side of your face, awaiting an explanation from you, but you paid no attention, "uhh put those down," you set your cards down "full house" you stood up swiftly moving the tokens to your side, Lando grabbing your face and kissing your cheek multiple times "that's my girl!" He chanted as the man who had just seen his win get taken away, slammed his hands on the table, "How?! HOW?!" Lando rubbed your arm, while you expertly counted the money, he took a swig of whiskey and replied, "you just gotta know how to play" before moving his head to kiss your neck as your ruffled his hair. The men angrily stood up (not without muttering some obscenities) and left.
Countless more games were played, with countless wins by you and Lando, all assisted by countless amounts of whiskey. Throughout the night, you had moved from the chair next to him to his lap and his hand from your shoulder to your waist, kisses growing more longing and passionate. By the time the majority began to leave, you had racked up a fair amount of money together and Lando had offered to help you take your half of the win back to your hotel room after finding out you were both staying at the Hilton hotel. Somehow you ended up pressed against the wall in Lando's hotel room, you two hungrily undressing each other as your lips were locked in with the other's, soon enough ending up on his bed, the rest of the night being a pleasurable blur.
The following morning when you lifted your head you were struck back by what seemed like humanity's worst ever hangover, and after opting for letting yourself recover from the movement of your head, you finally managed to open your eyes, turning to grab your phone to see the time but it wasn't your stuff on the bedside table, nor was it your room, you turned to your other side, seeing the beautiful brunette sleeping peacefully beside you as the events of the previous night returned to you. "Shit shit shit shit." You panicked, grabbing the covers to use to preserve some of your modesty at least as you grabbed your discarded pieces of clothing while on the way to the bathroom, fighting the dizziness. "Hey, it's a bit cold here, can I get my covers back" a familiar voice spoke, as you saw the Brit prop himself up on his elbows, looking at you, "I've already seen all that could've been seen, no need to get shy" you stood by the bathroom door. "Close your eyes" Lando closed his eyes, as you threw the cover at him before disappearing into the bathroom. He got dressed while you were in there, picking up one of your bracelets and waiting for you by the door. You stepped out and bumped into him straight away. "What are you doing here?" Lando handed you your bracelet as you put it back onto your wrist and checked the rest of your jewelry whilst Lando watched you, "it's my bathroom, why would I not be there?" You struggled with putting your heels back on, "there's no one around at this time, just leg it to your room if you're so concerned." Lando said and handed you your phone from a nearby table and you quickly went to the door, "you don't want your money?" He gestures to the stack that you had won and you quickly went to grab it from near where he stood, "you here for much longer?" He questioned, moving your hair from one shoulder to the other, "few more days, why?" You questioned as you grabbed the final bills and went to the door, "maybe I'll see you around." Lando called after you, "maybe you will" you muttered in reply before leaving and making it back to your room in record time for an extremely hungover person, instantly collapsing onto your bed, heels still on, money next to you, scavenging some energy to send a text to your best friend to get you some headache relief before passing out. You were awoken a few hours later by your door opening and being slammed shut as you stuck a hand out for hopefully the pills bit instead you were flipped onto your back abruptly by your friend as you groaned in pain, "get up animal" she said angrily, a lot more angrily than usual, "have you seen what the fuck you got yourself into?" You just complained in reply, "stop shouting, my head's gonna crack." She grabbed a bottle of water near your bed, tipping it onto your face, quickly knocking some sense into you. "What the fuck?" You quickly sat up and were met with a phone screen in your face as your vision adjusted to see what she was showing you "Lando Norris and y/n l/n seen leaving a casino in Las Vegas looking very close ahead of the Las Vegas grand prix" she read out the title as you stared at the image of you and Lando from last night in shock, "Lando Norris?" You asked your best friend, "yes, Lando Norris." She repeated. "I hooked up with Lando Norris?" She just shook her head in anger and sighed, "you really are an animal, you're telling me you hooked up with him as well, well done, you've really out done yourself with that one. Do you know how worried I was when you weren't here and you weren't answering? Your management is at my neck now because of you. YOUR management at MY neck." You just covered your eyes, "shit I'm so sorry." You said as you rubbed your face.
"Damn mate, how'd you manage to get with her?"  Lando stopped washing his face as he looked at Max through the mirror, "with who?" Max looked at Lando confused, "with y/n" Lando turned around suddenly "l/n?" "Yeah y/n l/n" Max turned his phone to show Lando the article that you had seen a bit earlier. Lando's eyes widened "that was her? She was like a thousand times better in real life, and that's considering she's like a 11/10 on screen-" "Lando I don't want to know, but the media does, because they're going wild about it" Lando breathed out as he washed his face with cold water again, "pr's gonna be so pissed about this" he said quietly as Max let out a laugh, "that's your biggest concern? I'd be more worried about other things here" Lando stared at the mirror, thinking about the situation at hand.
What had you guys got yourself into?
580 notes · View notes
codiemarin · 2 months
Text
Keys to Success - Leah Williamson x Reader
Tumblr media
Summary: You receive a call saying that your girlfriend was having issues with preparing for her recital, you make your way to her as soon as you can and try to help in the best way you know how.
T/W: Smut, Fingering, Strap-ons and a miniscule mention of squirting in passing. 
A/N: Based on this prompt from @jajjajajajdkeow . Gracias por enviarme esta idea, es genial!! No he usado esta postura exacta pero el concepto en sí. He disfrutado mucho escribiéndolo y espero que te guste como ha quedado!
Disclaimer: I know nothing about musical terms, so any attempt is probably incoherent. Also I typed this out in 3 hours and proof-read twice, let me know if there´s anything.
You walked to the studio briskly, concerned for your girlfriend as it had been four hours since she should have completed her final practice. Upon entering, you see the Englishwoman with her hands resting on the piano, eyes closed and head bowed. You walk over to stand behind her, bending down to place your hands on her shoulder as you give her a kiss on the top of her head.
“Hey, talk to me, Lee. You´ve been here for hours, what's happened?” You inquire softly. 
“God, I don´t know. This was supposed to be something doable, I can't believe I'm struggling.” She lets out a frustrated sigh.
You start massaging her shoulders, feeling how tense they were under your touch. You knew how Leah was like when she had a fixation. She pursued it relentlessly and set high standards for herself, a real perfectionist.
“Is it the audience you're worried about?” You pressed more firmly on the knots and heard her let out a strained breath. 
“Y-yes.. They make me nervous and I also can't concentrate between looking at the keys and sheets.”
“You memorised the song, love. You don't need sheet music. You can play it by heart.” You encouraged.
“It's also the climax that I struggle with, I get really stressed and I either mess up the notes or go too fast that the rest of the orchestra can't catch up.” She muttered as she pressed on random keys to highlight her exasperation. 
You knew exactly what Leah was going through, it´d be almost impossible not to. When she set this challenge for herself, you purchased her piano so she can practice at home. You sat with her while she learnt the notes and how to play from scratch, cheering her on as she gradually improved her skill. Leah was quite self-aware, but she still didn't grasp that one of the main causes of her downfalls was her inability to get out of her head. Lucky for her, you always knew how to get her out of it. When you realised she was taking too long, you packed your backpack with the essentials and made your way over to the studio. 
“Don´t worry your pretty little head. I´m here now and we'll practise until you get it right.” You reassured her as you bent down to rest your chin on her shoulder. She leaned into your touch and turned her head, lips meeting yours in a gentle kiss. 
“I think I know just how to make this easier for you. Do you trust me?” You whispered to her softly as you pulled away.
“You know I do, love.”
You went to your bag and opened it, rummaging through before taking out one of the items you´ve brought, a satin blindfold. You present it to Leah and you see her eyes widen slightly as she tilts her head at you curiously, you smile at her comfortingly and move to stand behind her once more. 
“You know the notes and memorised where the keys are, you don't need to look at anything.” You explained, covering her eyes with it and tying a knot behind her head. Pleased with your work, you place your hands back on her shoulders. 
“Now, play.” 
With a gentle touch, she pressed down on the keys, each note resonating through the air with clarity, the Englishwoman's fingers dancing across the keyboard. As she continued playing, you leant down and placed gentle kisses on her jaw, you heard her breath hitch slightly but she continued. You moved down, pressing open-mouthed kisses to her neck, nosing at it lightly in the way you knew tickled her and she stilled her hands. 
“W-what are you doing?” 
“Keep playing and you'll find out.” 
As she started from the beginning of the song, you continued your previous ministrations. Suckling on her neck and bringing both of your hands to her front, cupping and squeezing her breasts. 
You hear the shrill sound as Leah grips the keys abruptly and you stop your movements. 
“What did I say?” 
She continues and you play with her breasts, letting go of them momentarily as you slip your hands under her shirt and undo the clasp of her bra from the front, taking them in your hands. You take her nipples in between your fingers, rolling them until they peak and you could hear Leah´s breaths get heavier as she continued playing.
“Good girl.” You whispered in her ear and felt her shudder as she released a soft sigh and slowed her fingers.
“Did I say you could slow down, Leah? Do it from the top.” You growled in her ear as you nip her neck warningly, eliciting a sharp sound from her as she followed your order.
You continued your actions, removing one hand from her breast as you slipped it down lightly, scratching softly at her abs and feeling them tightening. When you reached her waistband, you deftly undid her belt and pants, slipping your hand inside and starting to rub her clit with your index finger. The Englishwoman jerks at your touch and stops.. 
“Please.. I need more.” She whimpers. 
“You know what you need to do.” You press a kiss on her cheek. 
A while later, the Englishwoman had restarted the song eight times, unable to concentrate on remembering where the correct keys were, much less what she was supposed to be playing. You could feel her starting to get even more frustrated, which wasn't your goal, so you decided to change tactics. 
“Stop for a second, love.” You wrapped your other arm around her chest and moved your lips closer to her ear, sucking on her lobe as you continued to circle her clit through her underwear. You feel her bucking into your hand and continue, hearing her breathing get faster. You suck on her pulse point softly and pull her underwear to the side, running a finger up and down her slit, already feeling how wet she´d gotten.
“You're doing so good darling.” You hear her whimper in response to your praise. “If you finish the whole song with no mistakes and without stopping, I´ll let you come.” You push a finger inside her slowly, feeling her walls tighten around you as she lets out a choked groan and leans further back to settle onto your shoulder. 
“Kiss me first, please..” You take her lips softly in yours, pressing them and pulling away to return with more pressure. You lick her bottom lip until she allows you entrance, then play with her tongue, sucking on it as you begin thrusting your finger inside at a slow pace. The Englishwoman pushes back for more contact and you pull away from her lips with a soft pop, hearing her whine in displeasure. 
“Go on then, love. Play your song and I´ll continue.” As she does, you start a steady rhythm and bring your other hand to rub her clit once more for added stimulation, you feel her shudder under you but her fingers are flying over the keys, albeit unsteadily. She persists with her movements, trying her best to feel the keys and remember where her fingers are supposed to go, still unable to rely on her eyes to guide her.
“More, Y/N..” She asks and you deliver, pulling out and pushing back in with two fingers, moving in a more purposeful pace as you continue to watch her try to complete the song. She was about three quarters done now. You sped up your ministrations, making sure to rub over her front wall and receiving a keen every time you passed over it. As she reaches the end of the song, you add a third finger. Leah whined throatily as she quickly tried to finish it up, fingers tripping over the keys in her desperation as she bore her weight further into your chest. As you hear the last note fading, you fuck your fingers into her cunt more forcefully as she grips the piano tightly, you feel her pussy clenching around you and you know that it wouldn´t take much to get her through the edge.
“Come for me, Leah.” You say into her ear as you pinch her clit and continue your other hand´s movements, biting roughly on the juncture of her neck and shoulder. The blonde groans and you feel her tense before shuddering against you. You slow down your movements, peppering kisses over her neck and and shoulders. You wrap an arm around her to pull her closer into you as your other hand pumped slowly, helping her ride out her orgasm. Once she fully relaxed against you, you withdrew your fingers from her and brought it to your mouth, sucking them and moaning softly at her taste.
“I.. Fuck.” Leah sighs and turns to kiss you softly. 
“Look at you, playing the whole song without any mistakes. I knew you could do it sweetheart.” You praised her and she looked away shyly. 
“All thanks to you, baby. But I still need to work on my timing and that's gonna take hours.” You couldn't see her face, but you knew she was pouting cutely as she always did when she was annoyed. You laughed at the thought as she bangs her head backwards on your chest. You let go of her and straighten up, bringing your hands to undo the blindfold as she blinks a few times, getting used to seeing the light again. 
“Bold of you to think that I haven't already thought about that, doll.” You smirked as you moved to rummage through your bag once again, pulling out two items this time with a playful grin as you shook it at Leah who looked at you in confusion. 
“What is that?” 
“A strap-on, babe.” You smirk.
“Now´re you´re just taking the piss.” She rolls her eyes and punches your shoulder.
“Why this, my darling love, is a metronome.” You chuckled as Leah continued to wait for the rest of your explanation.
“It's going to keep you on beat, and I have just the right way to make sure you remember it.” You grinned at her devilishly.
“Stand up, love. Take the chair away.” You order her, as you remove your pants and wear the strap-on, buckling and tightening the straps around your legs and but, then moving closer to the Englishwoman.
“Well, tell me what you´re thinking then?” Leah moves the chair, then looks over to you, gaze dropping between your legs to survey the toy in between. She bit her bottom lip as she made eye contact with you once more, wrapping her hand around your cock and stroking it, putting pressure on your clit. You moaned softly at her actions, enjoying yourself for a moment before snapping back into it and remembering that you had a mission you wanted to complete. 
You adjusted the metronome until you were satisfied and placed it on top of the piano.
“This might be a bit of a workout on your legs, but I'm sure you'll enjoy this.” You guided her to stand in front of the piano, standing behind her and pulling her hands up to give them a chaste kiss before placing them on the keys once more.
“Play according to the beat of the metronome, I've set it up the way it's supposed to be. If you get this done correctly, I´ll give you your reward. Understood?” 
“Yes, but kiss first?” Leah asked and of course you obliged, giving her a soft one before prompting her to begin playing with a light tap on her butt.
As she began playing, you went right into it, pulling her pants and underwear down and slipping three fingers into her pussy, still dripping from her previous orgasm. She lets out an undignified squeak as you pull her closer to you to press your front against her back, beginning to set a slow pace to get her used to it.
“That feels so good, darling.” She moves backwards into your thrusts, forgetting about the task at hand and you stopped.
“Leah, the piano.” She groans and places her hands back on the keys. When you see that she's doing a bit better with playing, you slip your fingers out of her slowly, hearing her protest and answering with a heavy slap on her ass, making her groan in pleasure from the sting. 
“This is torture, Y/N. Why are we doing this?” She asks desperately. 
“You wanted to play well, no? Don´t stop now.” 
As she carried on playing, you lined your cock with her entrance, feeling her breath hitch at the impending feeling of being filled. Leah´s fingers moved quickly over the keys, thinking that playing faster will get you to give her what she wanted. You growled before roughly sheathing yourself inside her, causing her to lose her balance and brace herself on the keys, eliciting a noise in time with her loud groan. You weren't worried about hurting her because you've trained her to take bigger cocks, this one however had a nice bend, the tip hit her spot just right. You fully planned to take advantage of this.
“What did I say about following the beat? Keep playing, Leah.” You rubbed her clit and started thrusting slowly, paying close attention and making sure that the tip of your cock dragged through her g-spot at every pass, making her legs shake from the effort of concentrating on playing while she held herself up. 
“Y/N...” She whimpered, starting to feel the familiar burn in her legs from the exertion.
“Yes, love?” 
“Can you please go faster?” She requested. 
“No, we´re following the beat.” You asserted once more and felt Leah stop playing. 
“I need a moment.. Just to collect myself.” She explained, breath shaky as she stood still impaled on your cock. You wrapped her in your arms, kissing her neck once more and thrusting shallowly as you played with her nipples, pinching and rolling them while she moaned and ground herself onto your cock. 
“F-fuck.. Y/N. I need to come, please..” She begged.
“Just play it on beat once more, love. Then I´ll give you what you want.” You encouraged, licking and sucking on her neck as you thrusted deeper into her for emphasis. 
“I- I don't think I can do it, I ́m too distracted..” Leah groaned, knuckles already turned white from how hard she was gripping the piano.
“Again, love. I know you can.” You pressed your lips to her shoulder comfortingly. She took a deep breath to calm herself and started her next attempt. You gripped her hips with both hands, fucking her in the pace of the metronome again, rubbing her back soothingly with your thumbs as she continued playing. 
Leah was panting now, from the exertion of keeping her composure and also maintaining her balance on her thighs and the balls of her feet to leave her hands free to glide over the keys. Remembering that she could play without looking at the keys, she closed her eyes and focused on feeling you. With her eyes closed, every movement she felt was enhanced. She was wrapped up in the feeling of your every thrust instead of listening to the steady ticking of the metronome, while both were the same rhythm, one was more pleasurable to focus on than the other.
You continued to rub her back softly, occasionally moving your hands down to caress her plump, muscular ass and massage it, making her groan at the combined sensations. Leah didn't think that she could get off from such a steady rhythm without further stimulation on her clit, but as you continued, she found herself teetering on the edge. As the song reached its final crescendo, you were confident that the blonde would be able to complete it without any further difficulty. 
You stopped for a millisecond to readjust yourself, pulling a breathy gasp out of her and started jogging your hips just a tad quicker as she approached the key part, you her whimpering softly from your ministrations. 
“You´re almost there, baby. Keep your hands steady.” You instructed as you changed your pace to a more punishing one, digging your nails into her skin as she let out a loud whine. Leah could feel herself tightening around your cock and was struggling to keep going but she held on, keeping her hips still as she felt you hitting the right spots to get her where she needed. 
Knowing that she wouldn't last long, you moved your hand to her front once more, playing with her clit as you continued your pumping, feeling how tight she was from her impending orgasm. Just as she moved to playing the first notes of the final climax, you buried your head in her neck and braced all your weight on your front leg, changing the angle so you can fuck her deeper. You hear her soft mewls in response, but were quite pleased to see that her fingers never faltered. 
“My good girl, you´re playing so well for me aren´t you.” You whispered softly in her ear as she continued to play, maintaining your pace and keeping her on the edge. As she reached the crescendo, you flicked her clit harshly and gave a final rough thrust deep inside her tight cunt, triggering her second orgasm and spurts of liquid from between her legs. Leah let out a choked scream, feeling her legs shake and buckle under her from all the effort of holding it in. 
“Don´t stop now, finish the song.” You grabbed her waist tightly, keeping her weight on you and continued your thrusts, much more gentle this time as you tried to keep the waves of pleasure longer for her. As she pressed the final key and ended the song, you pulled out of her gently and held her securely in your arms. You give her another round of kisses on her back as she tries her best to catch her breath in the midst of her panting and shaky legs. 
“Wouldn't you look at that, absolutely perfect.” You grin as you turn her around to lean on the piano, bringing her into a slow, loving kiss. Leah wraps her arms around your neck and sighs softly, pressing herself as close to you as possible, burying her face in your chest.
“Well, you literally fucked that beat into me..” She mumbled into you as you stroked her back softly. 
“It worked, didn´t it, my love?” You smiled as you kissed her head. 
“Yes, but please take me home. I think I´m going to fall asleep in your arms if we continue standing here any longer.” She says with a small yawn. 
“As you wish, my princess.”
Leah´s performance the next day went without a hitch, she played beautifully and it was only enhanced by the combined efforts of the orchestra that stood behind her. No traces of the anxious, insecure woman were left. She was radiant as her fingers glided over the keys, eyes closed peacefully like she was made to play the piano for an audience. You couldn't stop the grin from forming on your face when you saw her cheeks redden slightly as she played the final notes for the climax of her performance.
525 notes · View notes
groguspicklejar · 3 months
Text
part 9 of zombie!ghost
Tumblr media
creating the vaccine was a success. after two months of trial and error, the first batch of vaccines were tested on three people and thankfully, the only side effects were dizziness, vomiting and fatigue. other than that, they turned out fine.
it took a lot of arguing to actually see if it worked. Vargas wasn't keen on letting his soldiers go out of the secured military base. understandably so, these were his friends. people he was close to.
it was hard enough for him to watch them volunteer for the vaccine trials. now he has to watch them get bitten.
the reason why they had to leave the base was because Simon had a broken jaw and with a broken jaw, he can't bite. so they had to find a different subject.
meanwhile, Price had to stand his ground for the first few trials of the cure not to be conducted on his Lieutenant. his reasoning being that he can't risk it killing Simon when they were so close to getting him back to normal.
fair.
so they had to go for the next best thing: finding another test subject to work on. which wasn't hard. zombies are never in short supply. they did find one near by and lured it close enough to snare and bring back alive.
"it's like fishing." Soap grinned as he watched Rudy and a few others haul an agitated infected into the base. "Simon likes fishing."
"oh?" you perked up, glancing at your sentinel. "we went fishing a bunch of times, Si. why didn't you tell me?"
you ask as if you expect a worded response. all you got was a low grunt from him and both you and Soap chuckled.
Tumblr media
it was easier to find more undead to experiment on if you're immune. the only way you all knew that the vaccine worked was because of Rudy. he'd gotten bitten and thankfully, he didn't turn. granted, Rudy didn't do it on purpose but it didn't stop Colonel Vargas from giving him an earful for not being careful enough.
weeks go by and tests on the subject aren't going too great. Price was right not to let Simon go first for the cure trials. the first subject died. the second one went mad in containment and hit her head repeatedly against the glass till she killed herself.
you didn't stick around to find out what happened to the third.
it's scary to think about. you feel guilty that your friend, Simon, wasn't one of the people who went through all that.
"do you think we'll find a cure, Captain?" you asked him, looking into the sunset on the rooftop.
Captain Price leans on the railing and blows out a puff of smoke. it's oddly impressive how he's managed to get his hands on a pack of cigars in this apocalypse.
"i have faith in Alejandro and his team." he sighs, glancing at you. "and you should too."
"i do." your voice comes off a little too high, cheeks heating at his observation. you wrap your hands around yourself when the cold breeze washes over you. "i just want all this to be over."
you want a day to yourself. no military bases. no raiders. no undead. just you in a hot bathtub, reading some raunchy romance novel. just you in your own little place where everything is... normal. that's all you want.
maybe even visit a friend. have a sleepover with your friends and gossip and giggle like a bunch of schoolgirls on a weekend. you miss that. you miss your friends.
you wish you'd gotten the chance to say goodbye to them before the world went to shit. you wish you had the chance to save your dad and your sister. hell, after all this, maybe you'll even set out and find their bodies. that's if they haven't been shot dead by hunters or someone defending themselves from them.
you gulped thickly, pushing the thoughts away and inhaled sharply. you glance at the Captain when he asks, "where will you go after all this?"
find your family first, probably. give them a proper burial if they didn't make it. save them if they're still moving, still kicking.
you grit your teeth and swallow the thought down. "probably back to my little apartment."
thankfully, he doesn't ask about family. no one does. they all know what to expect because it's the same with everyone. either you don't know or they'll dead.
"and you?" you return. "where will you go?"
he chuckles lightly, glancing below. you follow his gaze and find Soap and Gaz circling around Ghost, probably fighting over the last can of cookies again. Gaz has the box, using Ghost as a shield. it's Soap who's snarling at him to give them to him.
"i'll probably stay here to make sure my boys are all safe." your eyes shift back to Price.
you smile at the fondness in his gaze. his boys.
he must've been devastated when he lost Simon. you can imagine his pain, losing a good friend. fighting to keep the others safe.
but he was lucky. he had a gun and he knew how to use it. when the world ended, you had nothing. and then you lost everything because of it. if you'd had Captain's tenacity and his killer instinct, maybe you might have saved your own circle of people, instead of roaming this dying world with a hollow ache in your chest.
an ache that currently being filled by one undead man and his comrades. his people.
god, Captain Price really is a lucky man. you hope that he doesn't take that for granted.
you leaned on the railing and swallowed thickly, blinking back the tears. "good luck with that."
Tumblr media
"Maribel said they'll have to do facial reconstruction." you speak while chewing the last cookie.
Ghost had swiped it from Gaz and well, growled at them. probably because he was annoyed at them for messing around and making too much noise around him. they promptly left him alone after that, cookies long forgotten.
you laughed when he gave you the box and thanked him.
"yet Soap tells me you're not fond of needles." you threw the box in the trash can and wiped your fingers on your oversized shirt. he groans, shifting away from you. you giggled and cup his face, trying to catch his gaze. "oh, come on. big guy like you? needles are nothing compared to you."
his chest rumbles with a noise of disagreement. facial reconstruction sounds scary. you hope it doesn't change his face too much, though.
more trials are still ongoing. another undead on the steel table. if this one survives, there might be a chance that things are going to change.
your smile slowly fades, your hands slipping away from him. "though i guess i won't be seeing much of your handsome face after this all ends, huh?"
there'd be no reason to stay with him. you'll go back to your regular life and he'll go back to being a soldier. plain and simple. and a little sad. the thought of saying goodbye with him lays a heavy ache on your chest.
you sniffle, trying not to let the sting in your eyes bother you too much, but it's too late. one tear rolls down, followed by another.
"i'm sorry." you whisper, trying to wipe them but the floodgates open.
Simon wraps a heavy arm around you and pulls you in for an embrace. you don't fight it. hell, your hands loop around his torso and you sink into him. he keeps a hand on the back of your head so you rest your cheek on his chest.
you don't know what this means. but you relish it.
you hope he'll miss you too. you hope he'll call you every once in a while.
you hope he comes to see you-
"she's back!" someone yells in the distance. you instantly pull away from Simon, startled and warmth flooding your cheeks as there's a commotion starting in the base.
you hope there isn't an outbreak. not here. this is the only place that offers hope to the rest of humanity.
but it's not that. far from it. Soap comes running up to the both of you, bright eyed and grinning like a mad man as he picks you up and spins you around. "she's talking and everything!"
you squeal, hanging onto him, even as he puts you down. "what's going on?"
"we've got our cure, bonnie!" he beams. "Simon's gonna be alright!"
Tumblr media
offer a coin to the picklejar Cure For Me Masterlist banner by @cafekitsune
567 notes · View notes
flufftober · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
🌸🍀 Hello and welcome to our (first) Flufftober Spring Edition 🌸🍀
SURPRISE 😁
Yes, we've decided that one month of the year simply isn't enough anymore! So we would like to fill two weeks in March with as much fluff as possible 🥰 for that to happen, we present you with 14 prompts, some of them neutral, some very much sping-themed.
How does this work?
Pretty much like our regular Flufftober event in October, so you'll find all the common rules and info below the cut. Contrary to the big event though, this one here only runs for two weeks instead of the entire month, and we set the date from March 11th to March 24th! So prompt one is NOT supposed to be posted on March 1st but instead on March 11th! Prompt two is for March 12th, prompt 3 for March 13th, and so on...
Since this is a smaller prompt list, you also won't find any prompt extras to switch these out with, sorry. Maaaybe if this event is a success, we'll think about changing that in upcoming years 😉
Below the cut, you'll find all our rules, posting info, and all the prompts in writing. If you have any more questions, please feel free to send us asks 🥰
Friends, we so hope you love this surprise and that the prompts may inspire a lot of fluffy creations! We wish you a great start to the new year and as always
Happy Creating 🥳
Tumblr media
Standard Blog Rules & FAQ
(Due to previous asks, we made sure to add more points to this section - while they're not new rules, they're new to this list, so you'll find them colored green)
No inc*st or p*dophilia - we can’t keep you from writing it or creating art for it but it won’t be reblogged. No inc*st: This rule does not apply to distant cousins and such, as you might find in the LotR fandom (or basically in all of European Monarchy). The line we draw is at direct blood relations (siblings, (grand)parents, kids) and/or legal guardianship. No p*dophilia: This rule does not rule out fandoms that feature teenagers such as Harry Potter, Heartstoppers, Hunger Games, etc. It also doesn't mean you can't write about their time together as teenagers! It's aimed at ships in which one is a minor and the other is not - but since even that has grey areas, the rule is this: if you keep it SFW, all is good and allowed, we don't care; if it turns NSFW, be mindful of the legalities of the world/society/times your characters live in.
No hate or ship bashing - we’re all different and we all love different things. As long as it doesn’t go against rule #1, it’s allowed.
Tag correctly! Trigger warnings (including cheating!), ships, ratings, (pure) smut, etc - it’s all fine as long as you tag it.
There’s absolutely no word count restriction, write as little or as much as you like.
In regards to art, anything goes: drawings, paintings, collages, mood boards, gif sets, videos, playlists… the sky’s the limit (though not really…). If you would like to create a podfic, the fic you're using does not have to be new - your creation will be new!
You can mix and mash different mediums however you like, be it within one prompt or on different days.
While we can’t force you to write fluff or create fluffy art, please try to keep in mind that this is a fluff event 😉 that, of course, doesn't mean you can't combine it with angsty/whumpy prompts - hurt/comfort is absolutely welcome!
You can start creating as soon as you see this - but please refrain from posting before the respective day.
If you post early, we will schedule your post for the correct day; if you use multiple prompts in one creation, we will post on the earliest day you used.
You can participate on as many days as you like, even if it’s just one; you can also create multiple entries for the same day.
You can replace as many original prompts as you like with our prompt extras; you can also combine them with the original prompts or create for them in addition, that's completely up to you.
It’s okay to write one story/a series for all the prompts.
You do not have to stick to one character, ship, or even one fandom - switch as often as you like to or even write for multiple ships for one day.
The ship does not have to be a romantic one! Friendship and family feels are more than welcome (but this is not a way to get around rule #1!)
Original works as well as OCs in fandoms are welcome! But please make sure to mark these clearly, either in the tags or the post itself. We're not familiar with all fandoms (though we're definitely learning a lot!), so we're not always sure what might be an OC and what might be such an unknown side character not even Google can find them...
Reader insert fics (for example "character x reader") as well as RPFs are absolutely allowed.
Other languages are also welcome - just make sure to clearly mark the day and fandom so that we can still easily reblog.
This event can be combined with other events as long as the other event allows it.
Late entries are always welcome, even if it is months or years later.
All fandoms and ships are welcome - fanon and canon - as long as they’re of age (in case you want to add smut) and not related.
Posting
Posting to tumblr
Please use the tag #fluffspring2024 Make sure there is NO SPACE between fluff and spring and 2024! We will NOT be checking other variations of this tag!
Since tags are sometimes wonky, make sure to also mention us with @flufftober in your post
We will try to catch them all, but please don't be mad if we miss a post or if it gets reblogged a bit late
If you're absolutely certain a post has slipped past us, feel free to send an ask with the link to your post
To make reblogging easier for us, make sure to add the following tags: #fluffspring2024 #day [xy] #[fandom] #[ship and/or main character(s)]
Posting to ao3
You can add your creation to the collection Flufftober Spring Edition 2024 (flufftober_spring_edition_2024)
Late entries are always welcome, on tumblr as well as the ao3 collection! Neither will close - but like always, reblogs will become less regular the more months have passed...
Prompts
1. New Beginnings
2. Banter, Joking, Fun
3. Spring Cleaning
4. “Let me take care of you.”
5. Honey & Bees
6. Sharing a Blanket
7. Giving someone a Present
8. Breakfast in Bed
9. Daisies
10. Iced Beverage
11. Enjoying the Fresh Air
12. Claiming, Clingy, Possessive
13. “It’s still too cold.” - “No, it’s not.”
14. Putting down Roots
Tumblr media
385 notes · View notes
girlgenius1111 · 4 months
Text
a cure for frustration
Tumblr media
warnings: angst. hurt / comfort. smut. 18+.
You knew from the moment you saw her hop away from the challenge that something was wrong. You felt fear squeeze your heart as you sat on the sub bench, eyes following her every movement. As play continued, Alexia stayed out of the way, walking, and flexing her knee repeatedly. Her knee. You clutched the seat beneath you, knuckles turning white. You heard Claudia say something to you, but you were too were focused on Alexia, wiling her to resume playing, running, anything to show you that she was ok.
You watched as a break in play was called, and Alexia walked over to the sidelines, trainers on her within seconds. You couldn't make out what she was saying, but she was definitely motioning to her knee. You made eye contact, and the fear in her eyes was clear. Play resumed, and she moved to walk over to the sub bench, taking a careful seat next to you, a trainer kneeling in front of her, examining her knee.
"Ale. What is it?" You tried to ask in a calm voice, but you don't think you were very successful, as her hand came to grip yours for a brief moment.
"I don't know. Her knee just drilled right into mine. It doesn't feel right, I don't think it feels right," she responded, and you could hear her voice shaking, as she avoided eye contact with you, opting instead to stare at the gloved hands probing her knee. You wanted nothing more than to pull her into your arms, tug her much taller body into yours, and hold her until the look of fear left her eyes. You couldn't. Not here. Instead, you looked to the trainer in front of her, as he withdrew his hands from her.
"It doesn't seem like anything is wrong. It was probably just a hard blow. We can do scans if you want them, but I really think it's ok" he stated, clearly trying to settle Alexia's nerves. She took a deep breath, thinking, before looking up, jaw clenched, face devoid of emotion.
"Can I go back in?"
"Alexia-" you started, but were cut off by a hand on your knee, calloused fingers squeezing gently in reassurance, and you fell silent, looking at the trainer for an answer.
"If you feel like you can, yes. We'll get scans at the half just in case" he responded, turning behind him to Jonatan, who nodded at Alexia. The midfielder rose from her seat, glancing down at you once, almost as if to reassure you that she was alright. You murmured a soft "good luck," and she was back on the pitch.
You watched, eagle eyed, as she ran across the field, clearly in some discomfort, but running nonetheless. You took a breath, refocusing yourself. You needed to be prepared to sub in, and letting your mind run in circles about your girlfriend was not going to help anyone. You focused on the game instead, not allowing your eyes to track Alexia around the pitch. You saw Esmee's goal, or Alexia's goal rather, and didn't let yourself think about how social media would tear your sweet girlfriend to pieces over her ensuring they scored. You didn't let yourself think about, or feel any of it.
The first half came to a close, and you fell in step with Alexia as she headed into the locker room. She stopped you outside the door to the medical room, and turned to look at you, expression still unreadable.
"Go to the locker room. You need to be with the team, and warm up. I'm fine. I promise" she said all of this very quietly, her green eyes looking into yours. She was still being Alexia, captain of the team, two time Balon D'or winner, not your Ale, her words monotone, expressing none of the love that normally seeped into her voice when she spoke to you. You knew this is what she needed, to stay clinical and disconnected until she knew more, that allowing herself to be anything but emotionless would be too hard. So you nodded, squeezing her arm once.
"You're right, you are fine. I'll see you after" you kept your voice just as disconnected, just as emotionless, as you saw a small smile grace her lips, before she turned, entering the room. You returned to the locker room, knowing you needed to get your head on straight.
-------
The second half passed at a torturous pace, with you subbing on around the 60th minute. You pushed Alexia out of your mind again, throwing yourself into the game, pretending you weren't dying to dash off the field to find out what the scans showed. When the final whistle blew, you shook hands with your opponents and your teammates, trying to decide how long you needed to stay on the pitch for before going to find Alexia. You were still deciding when you felt Mapi come to stand next to you. You'd already shaken hands, but she pulled you into a hug anyway, her face sympathetic.
"Go find her. I'm sure she's fine, but you won't relax until you see her, so just go. I'll cover for you," she spoke quietly into your ear, pulling away from the hug at the end, and smiling at you.
"Thank you, Mapi," was all you could get out before you were on your way into the building, waiting until you were out of sight before you broke into a sprint towards the medical room. You opened the door, heart plummeting when you found it empty. 50 different options of where Alexia might be flew through your head, each one more horrifying than the last. Forcing yourself to take a deep breath and think like a rational person, you turned, heading toward the locker room.
You walked in, and let out a relieved sigh at the sight of Alexia sitting in her locker, hair wet, looking at her phone. She looked up when she heard you arrive, you crossed the room instantly, crouching down in front of her, laying a gentle hand on her knee. You looked up at her, the question you were terrified to ask on the tip of your tongue. She brushed a piece of hair off your flushed face gently, before telling you, "It's fine. The scans were normal. I think I just freaked out."
She seemed slightly embarrassed at this, but you felt all the tension leave your body at her words, letting your forehead fall to rest on her knee. She chuckled above you, resting a hand on your back.
"What, were you worried about me or something?"
You looked up at her with a glare, not enjoying her teasing.
"Not worried for you. Just worried about how insufferable you'd be if you had to sit out again," you retorted, allowing a smile onto your face so she knew you were kidding.
She threw her head back at that, and laughed.
"You're right. It would be so unfortunate for you if I was out of commission for a while. I know how desperate you get" she quirked an eyebrow at you, an easy grin playing on her lips and you felt heat rush to your face, indescribably glad that the locker room was empty. You looked up at her, breath caught in your throat at her words, entranced by her long eyelashes, her full lips, her bright eyes. Just as you opened your mouth to respond, her phone buzzed, and her eyes flew to it, smile falling from her lips. You watched as she read the message, how her eyes hardened at whatever she was looking at.
"What-"
"Shower. Get dressed," she paused, looking down at you with a familiar glint in her eyes. "We have things to do at home." There was no mistaking her meaning, and the speed with which your concern for whatever she had read on her phone left your brain was almost embarrassing. You stood, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek, and turned to your own locker, vowing to get ready to go in a record amount of time.
-------
The car ride home was a different kind of torturous. Alexia driving was a sight to see normally, but today, it really did something to you. Maybe it was the look in her eyes when she glanced over at you, or the way her hand rested high up on your thigh. Her hand placement shouldn't have made you as desperate as it had, but there you were, doing everything you could to sit still and ignore the heat pooling in your lower abdomen. You were doing too good of a job acting unaffected, apparently, because Alexia started to softly rub her thumb back and forth over your clothed thigh. You held your breath, willing yourself not to let out a sound. You eventually had to exhale, however, and it came out sharper and less controlled than you intended. Alexia looked over at you, lips curling up at the edges, before she returned her gaze to the road.
"Something wrong, amor?" She asked, and you swore she was making her voice raspier on purpose. You shook your head in response, deciding your best bet was to stay quiet until you had to speak. She laughed quietly, as she turned into the parking garage. Pulling into her spot, she threw the car in park, veins popping on her hands as she maneuvered the gearshift. She got out of the car quickly, leaving her bag behind, walking over to your door. Knowing better than to open it yourself, you waited until she pulled it open, offering a hand down to you that you took. You stepped out of the car, and she shut the door behind you, placing a possessive hand on your back. You repressed a shudder at the contact, wishing that it wasn't this easy for Alexia to get you so hot and bothered. You could feel wetness pooling in between your legs, from only a few touches and a few smirks, and you hoped that Alexia was in a mood that would appreciate it.
"Vamos, amor. We have things to do" she spoke the words centimeters from your ear, and you quickened your pace, leading the way into the elevator and up to your apartment. The minute you got inside the apartment, she was on you, lips pressing into your neck, arms wrapping around your abdomen, pulling you back into her. Her lips and tongue worked roughly against the sensitive skin of your neck, and you knew she was already leaving a mark. You managed to turn the groan that tried to work its way out of your lips into a heavy breath, causing her to pull her lips away from you. You felt her hot breath on your ear before she spoke.
"No no, bebé. Good girls let me hear how good I make them feel."
At this, you let out a small whimper, allowing your head to fall back against her shoulder. You felt her smile against your neck, her hands pressing back into your abdomen, making you grind back against her. You let her control your motions for a minute, before the contact became not enough, and you turned your head into her neck, knowing exactly how to get what you wanted.
"Ale. Please, baby."
"Already begging? I've barely touched you," she smirked, "tell me what you want, and maybe I'll give it to you"
"Take me to bed, Alexia."
With that, she stepped away from you, turning you around before wrapping her arms around your waist, easily lifting you into your arms, as your legs came to wrap around her. Your lips found hers, and you sighed at the feeling, her tongue sliding into your mouth as she walked you blindly back into the bedroom. Laying you on the bed, she crawled on top of you, never letting your lips lose contact from hers. You made out messily for several minutes, your hands sliding up under her shirt, as hers held her weight above you. She shifted slightly, pressing her knee against your core, and you shuddered, lips stilling against hers. Encouraged by your reaction, she pressed harder against you, and you leaned your head back, inhaling deeply as your hips ground down against her. She pulled back, and your eyes flew open, seeing her kneeling over you, tugging at your shirt, the question unspoken. You nodded, and she pulled it up and over your head, pulling her own off as an after thought.
She leaned back down, immediately connecting her lips to your chest, leaving messy kisses as she trailed over to your nipple, taking it into her mouth and running her tongue over it. Her fingers came up to play with your other nipple, and you closed your eyes again, one hand fisting in the soft comforter, the other coming up to tangle in Alexia's freshly blonde hair. You tried to press her closer to you, and she smiled against you, switching sides to focus on your other nipple. You looked down at her then, and the sight of her staring up at you as her mouth worked against your chest made you crazy. You tugged her back up, until her mouth was level with yours, and tried to connect your lips again. She kept her face just out of reach, however, staring down at you. She was a sight to see. Pupils blown, hair falling freely around her shoulders are she gazed down at you, her eyes flickering between your lips and your eyes. You let out a little whine, hoping she'd appreciate the desperation, and let you kiss her, but suddenly her weight was off your body, and you felt her hands on the waistband of your shorts. Pushing yourself up onto your elbows, you met her eyes where she stood at the edge of the bed, prepared to pull your shorts off.
"Si?" She questioned, looking at you with a softer expression than you'd seen on her all night. You nodded, but she made no further movements, simply raising an eyebrow at you.
"Si, Ale. Si." you responded, desperate for her to get on with it. Satisfied, she stripped your lower half. She moved to climb back on top of you, but you stopped her, sliding a finger under the waistband of her own shorts. Looking down at you, Alexia smiled, making you ask for what you clearly wanted.
"You too" you said, and she replaced your hands at her shorts and underwear, pulling them off slowly, never breaking eye contact with you. Satisfied, you leaned back onto your elbows, happy to take whatever she gave you. Still standing at the edge of the bed, she trailed a single finger down your thigh, her touch feather light, as she traced the various marks and scars along your legs.
If her goal was to make you beg, she didn't have to wait long. You'd been aching for her since she'd spoken to you in the locker room, and you'd never been one to shy away from asking for what you wanted. Especially when it seemed to bring Alexia a fair amount of pleasure to hear your words.
"Baby, please put your mouth on me," you whined. Her eyes darkened at your words, and suddenly she was laying in between your legs, her tongue running through you, and you were falling back onto the mattress. She hummed against you, enjoying the reaction she got out of you and you jerked your hips up against her. Her tongue circled your clit slowly, as her strong hands grabbed your thighs, bringing them up to rest on her shoulders. She moved her mouth down slightly lower, eyes falling shut as she let herself fall into the movements, knowing exactly what you needed from her. Her tongue collected the abundant slick that was leaking out of you, pushing into your entrance, as her nose rubbed against your clit. Your moans filled the room, as did the sounds of her mouth moving against you. You reached a hand down to tangle in her hair, pulling her closer to you.
"More. Need your fingers" you gasped out, body twitching around Alexia's head. She chuckled against you, the vibrations making you jerk up again into her. She moved your leg off one of her shoulders, and pushed your knee to bend, spreading your legs for her. Her mouth moved back up, toying with your clit again, this time her teeth grazing against it every so often. She teased your pussy with one of her fingers, before sinking it into you all at once, relishing in the unholy noise that left your mouth. She added a second finger almost instantly, pulling her mouth away to look at you. Your head was thrown back against the mattress, one hand with the comforter twisted in your fist, the other still in Alexia's hair. You looked absolutely wrecked, eyes tightly shut, your whole upper body flushed red as you gasped for breath against her movements.
She returned her mouth to you with renewed passion, the sight of you enough to make her frantic to make you come. She sucked your clit into her mouth, flicking her tongue over it insistently, as her fingers curled inside of you, hitting the spot she had memorized, sending your hips bucking up into her mouth. Your walls clenched around her fingers, and she knew you were close before you said it.
"Jesus. Fuck! I'm so close." Your words were barely understandable, broken up by whimpers and moans, as you neared your peak.
"Come for me bebé" she murmured the words against you, and you let go, waves of pleasure washing over you as you fell over the edge, hand gripping her hair tightly. You yelled out her name as you came, and she worked you through it, slowing her fingers and tongue until your body unclenched, and you fell limp against the mattress. She pulled her mouth away from you, allowing her fingers to still inside of you. Resting her head on your thigh, she looked up at you, an arm thrown over your eyes as you panted. If you had looked at her then, you would have been overwhelmed by the obvious love in her eyes, as she patiently waited for you to calm down a little more. She pulled her fingers out of you, bringing them directly up to her tongue, cleaning them off with a moan.
You looked down at her then, your own gaze meeting hers as she pulled her fingers out of her mouth with a filthy sound. Alexia crawled up the bed, pulling you to lay against your chest, and you sighed into her, relishing in the comfort only she could bring you. Her hands rubbed your back softly, but her intent was clear as the moved lower to grab at your ass. You moved your head to look up at her, chin resting on her chest, and her lips curved into a grin looking down at you.
"Más?" she asked quietly, already knowing your answer. In response, you connected your lips to hers again, pushing yourself up to straddle her hips.
------
part 2? ive never really written fanfiction before... or smut... so I genuinely don't know if this is awful or not. if you want a part 2 of this let me know :). I was originally just gonna write it all at once but i'd rather know if people want to see more or not. Planning more smut for part 2, along with the reader discussing alexia's knee with her [what is a fic without hurt comfort]. let me know if you want to see anything specific :)
467 notes · View notes
Text
Astrology Observations : Planets & Things 💙
Moon/Pluto individuals need space to heal their dark emotions otherwise they will combust and it will show on their bodies in a not so good way. They can start too look sick because their astral bodies are holding on to dead weight.
Aries Sun should always have something to fulfill them as this gives them purpose and strengthens their passionate energy. These DIY individuals can master anything they put their minds too.
Planets in the 9th house show that you will mostly move out of the state or country . Leaving your hometown will be beneficial for you. Most celebrities with these planets had to leave their hometown to find success (Rihanna for ex.)
Men with Moon/Venus can be mocked for their sensitivity but can also be well liked by women because of it. A ladys man and can be powerfully charming like a Casanova.
Women with mars and pluto dominating their chart are the most hated, but the sign everyone wants to fuck. Men hate that you may be more dominate & powerful than them, and can have twisted fantasies of how they can dominate you. Can possess a lot of weirdos with this placement. People wanting to control them and also underestimate them.
Lilith dominate women can receive a lot of secret admirers, like they'll pretend to hate them in public but we'll be in there dms like..... ;) Can make women turn 'bi' with this placement, curious Georges wanting to try something new because they just have this energy about them. This is especially true if your sun or venus is connected to lilith.
Mercury/Pluto individuals have an incredible mind. There words can make listeners change their perspective on any topic they express to the public. They can get the world talking about what ever it is they put in their art, or want to get off their chest. The intellectual that can get you to think.
Venus/ASC have a dark side that no one ever seems to notice. They can turn it off at any moment and even if they do show their dark side most people dont care or even notice it because their aura hypnotizes them. Radiate a powerful aura that can shield them from other peoples energy especially envious energy. Their beautiful energy is their protection & can be used as a weapon as well.
Neptune/ASC have powers in shapeshifting due to knowing how to connect with the frequencies around them. Its important for them to always cleanse themselves spiritually or they will take in the wrong energies from time to time.
Anyone with Neptune Dominating their chart should learn to use their mind to control their reality. They have gifts where they can quantum jump, script their reality into fruition, control their minds to get the outcome that they want (eliminating certain thought patterns, creating a world in their head and using it as art, law of attraction/universal laws are something they naturally when they start tapping into their inner knowledge etc.).
Virgos need to allow themselves to have a bit of chaos because this gives them a chance to reveal a side of themselves they dont usually see. Always being organized , living in routine, and perfectionism can keep them lost in the sauce if they don't let things crash and burn like it needs too. This helps them create from the ground up so something new can take place, and then they can create a new routine from there. Something that will benefit them much more than living the same way time and time again. Great listeners, and can talk about anything if you give them a chance. If they're comfortable with you, they'll let you into their world of thoughts but let me tell you... Its like one big wild card in there which is why they try to organize, create routines, and make everything perfect in their day to day life because their mind is going bonkers.
Cancer Venus needs lots of attention. Can and will hold on to your secrets for dear life. Can face rejection during childhood which is why their a little nurturing to other people because they know whats its like to be pushed to the side. Motherly energy makes them more likable, they can be great bakers with this placement. Hypnotizing auras. Can get their way when they allow their seductive qualities to show.
Scorpio Venus are powerhouses, simple. Seductive auras that magnetize their desires to them with no issue. They aren't ashamed to express their sexualities, in fact they admire when you worship them and their enchanting physiques. These individuals know how to use their eyes, and can possess you with them. Turning you into their worshippers with just one look. Can make you obsessed with them by just looking at them. They may have desires that could be pretty taboo.
2K notes · View notes
amourdivine · 26 days
Text
Tumblr media
୨ ♡ ୧ WHAT KIND OF PERSON ARE THEY?   ઉ   PAC
Tumblr media
Hello, angels! I hope you're well. I'm bringing in another nosy type of reading. We'll look into who this person really is and if any advice comes up. If you liked this reading, please consider tipping me at @ [email protected] via paypal! xo ♡
›    none of the images are mine unless stated otherwise. ›    personal readings are closed as of march 2024 ›    navigation ♡ masterlist ♡ payhip (extended readings)
HOW TO CHOOSE YOUR PILE.  take a few deep breaths and look at each picture separately. see which one brings you to a feeling, a place or a memory. take your time and feel free to come back to it later!
Tumblr media
amourdivine 2021 - 2024 © do not copy, redistribute or edit my content!
୨୧ PILE ONE
who is this person, deep down? two of cups ✧ the hermit ✧ judgement
This is someone who values meaningful, deep, soulful relationships. They do not crave the buzz of parties or endless chatting with strangers. They don't like small talk. Others may describe this person as an old soul, someone introspective and wise. Their friends turn to them for honest and sensible advice; they may be an older sibling, or someone who's seen as a role model in some type of way.
Unfortunately, this wisdom came at a cost. They have endured a thousand inner deaths in life. This person had to start over many, many times, but they always got back up. As strong as they are also loyal, they're mature and still believe in the magic of being surrounded by good people. Strong Virgo and Scorpio energy, given the cards you got.
It's likely they came from poverty or are enduring a financial loss at this moment in time. Since this person is hardworking and independent, I don't think you have anything to worry about - sadly or not, they're more than used to the weight of their shoulders.
Although they're not expressive with their emotions or thoughts, you can count on this person to be sincere. They seem heavily protected by something greater, something bigger. For most of you, this person is spiritual, but not religious. They're very private and you may have a hard time understanding them or figuring them out.
channeled words & songs: black and white, heavy as led, test of time, a drop of water, night of the soul, life path 7, seek solitude, "i'm always okay", read my mind by the killers, runaway horses, small towns.
quotes that remind me of this person
Tell me, Atlas. What is heavier: The world or its people's hearts? — Darshana Suresh.
I am a forest, and a night of dark trees: but he who is not afraid of my darkness, will find banks full of roses under my cypresses. — Friedrich Nietzsche.
Everywhere I go I find a poet has been there before me. — Sigmund Freud.
Tumblr media
୨୧ PILE TWO
who is this person, deep down? five of swords ✧ the world ✧ the moon
Accomplished, but lonely. It's how this person feels as I shuffled. They have seen and known so much, but it came at the cost of their morals. This person holds many secrets - even from themselves. Nothing dark, but they do regret their ways at times. With how competitive and aggressive they can be, it's difficult for them to hold onto anything but their success.
They may be famous or well-known in some way. Renowned. A lawyer, a judge. Someone with a fair share of experience and authority in a certain field. But my God, how their words can hurt. Have you ever heard that the pen is mightier than the sword? Yeah, that's this person.
Even when they bask in the glory of being so accomplished, no one really knows this person. Not even themselves, as I said. They're scared of vulnerability, emotions and intimacy. They're scared of the things the Moon tries to show them: their deepest fears, the nightmares and past traumas they've tried to bury deep down.
Interestingly, despite the cards, I get heavy Aries energy. This person may be an Aries Moon, quite a complex placement to have. They're good at being logical and practical, good at the doing, at the speaking, but they don't have the time for people, for emotions... for friendship or family. Given their history, it's likely they shut themselves off from connections out of fear.
I don't think they're happy. They look happy, they look so beautiful, so otherworldly, but inside of them there's this urge for something else. Something more meaningful.
channeled words & songs: ambitchous, aries, sagittarius, "i want it i got it", "let my money talk", chest pains, life path 8 or 9, neon pink, overprotective, oh no! by marina, terrible love by the national, bank account.
quotes that remind me of this person
I live to succeed, not to please you or anyone else. — Marilyn Monroe.
My worst fear - that's anyone's worst fear - is to lose myself and become an empty person. And that happens a lot when you're very ambitious. — Marina Diamandis.
Tumblr media
୨୧ PILE THREE
who is this person, deep down? two of pentacles ✧ the sun ✧ four of pentacles
What an interesting contradiction, it seems. The person on your mind is generous, extroverted and.. quite the busy bee. Their outer persona remind me of J-Hope from BTS, very caring and extroverted - someone who's got an infectious laugh, but despite his bubbly appearance, he's actually very caring and protective.
Although they may seen foolish, this person is anything but. They're quite careful and at times, intense. However, I don't think many people get to see this more serious and protective side of them. They seem guarded for the right reasons, because they know their heart is quite precious and too much of a good thing to be given away so easily.
It's possible they come off as brain-scattered or high maintenance to you, but they're genuine and one of their main purposes in life - whether they know it or not - is to bring joy to others. They're so good at it. It's not a party without this person, with or without alcohol, they know how to lighten up the mood and are an amazing team player.
It feels cheeky too. I think they like the dad jokes, the lighthearted atmosphere, but they know when to be serious. If I am to be honest, this person is an amazing partner (in case you're asking about a romantic interest) and an even more amazing friend. Someone who'll cheer you up and stick by your side through thick and thin. A very dear friend.
channeled words & songs: heart-shaped, light up a joint, weed, recreational drugs, easy breezy, life of the party by shawn mendes, 9 to 5, bisexual, lgbt+, rainbow, friend-shaped, dogs, cats, energetic, rap.
quotes that remind me of this person
The greatness of a man is not in how much wealth he acquires, but in his integrity and his ability to affect those around him positively.— Bob Marley.
You're only given a little spark of madness. You mustn't lose it. — Robin Williams.
Everyone you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about. Be kind. Always. — Unknown.
Tumblr media
୨୧ PILE FOUR
who is this person, deep down? ace of cups ✧ ten of swords ✧ seven of cups ✧ the lovers
I feel like whoever you're asking about is in a brand new mode. They seem to be someone who was previously overburdened by their past. This person is in a major transformative phase, both physically and internally. They have endured so much, it's heartbreaking just thinking about it. I don't think they're very open about it though, at least, they weren't before.
Honestly, this person may have suffered from addiction, major losses or betrayal. They're getting back up after a period of darkness. Spirit's referencing their current phase more so than they actually are, because I believe they haven't yet fully come to really be who they are. They're shedding the person they had become, in order to be who they were meant to be.
They seek a new beginning, new friendships, good, better choices. It seems this path they're on has just begun, so they're a bit.. amazed at the options being offered. Still, this person wants to choose well for themselves and the people they love. They've regained a great love for the world. I feel filled with wonder, with enthusiasm for what's to come. Like anything and everything is possible.
Although they may seem immature, they've seen a lot. They've had to fight to survive through their worst and now, they're learning to let joy and love in. They've come to realize their power, the magic in who they are and learning to accept that this too shall pass. However, this person feels peaceful yet determined, broken yet healing, quite balanced in their aspects. A thinker and a feeler.
channeled words & songs: ego, healing, therapy, six of cups, innocence, yet to come by bts, mbti types, dancing in the dark by bruce springsteen, "a do-over", "maybe", shufflemancy, spiritual, 777, 333, psychedelics, hippie, hologram, offline, nature.
quotes that remind me of this person
I go to seek a Great Perhaps. That's why I'm going. So I don't have to wait until I die to start seeking a Great Perhaps. — John Green.
Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish. — Steve Jobs.
I’ll rewrite this whole life and this time there’ll be so much love, you won’t be able to see beyond it. — Warsan Shire.
Tumblr media
୨୧ PILE FIVE
who is this person, deep down? two of wands ✧ six of wands ✧ page of cups
A courageous, successful individual. This person has a lot of wanderlust. They are in love with life, in love with themselves, in love with the world. They like to be on the move, to party and be around other people they also admire.
However, they have an impulsive, non-committal side to them that is expressed mainly in the way they approach relationships, especially romantic wise. They have a fear of settling, so they're always on the go, on the search for the next best thing in every way. They may move a lot or have a different crush everyday. Although it isn't inherently bad, I think this person may come off as hard to pin down.
In reality, they're enthusiastic and ready to take on the world. They like the spotlight, they have big dreams too. It gives me Leo energy, in the way they love to be praised, to be adored. Depending on who you're asking, this may be polyamorous or they just enjoy being single and free. Many people describe this person as free-spirited and bold.
At times, their words and behaviors get the best of them. They're not good at keeping secrets and may have quite a temper when angered. They mean well, but there's a diva-like side to this person that can be egocentric or immature, since they've got a bit of a one track mind when it comes to their dreams. They're also very beautiful and they know it. It's also quite the ego boost to be around them - they love to give out compliments and flirt.
channeled words & songs: bisexual, "himbo", bucketlist, pinterest, clean girl era, "i want everything", poetry, interlude: shadow by bts, parallel universe, edm, party girl, wild, erratic, center of attention, instagram, social media influencer, blogger, barbie movie, hungry heart by bruce springsteen, rumors by ross lynch (this song started playing after i finished the section above! very relevant).
quotes that remind me of this person
If neurotic is wanting two mutually exclusive things at one and the same time, then I'm neurotic as hell. I'll be flying back and forth between one mutually exclusive thing and another for the rest of my days. — Sylvia Plath.
I believe in pink. I believe that laughing is the best calorie burner. I believe in kissing, kissing a lot. I believe in being strong when everything seems to be going wrong. I believe that happy girls are the prettiest girls. I believe that tomorrow is another day and I believe in miracles. — Audrey Hepburn.
Tumblr media
amourdivine 2021 - 2024 © do not copy, redistribute or edit my content!
DISCLAIMER. tarot is a divination tool, it’s not a substitute for medical and professional advice, nor is it meant to be taken as such. i don’t take responsibility for any choice(s) made by you or others regarding my readings. be mindful ♡
297 notes · View notes
nonotnolan · 15 days
Text
Spring Break
Simon let out a deep sigh as he dropped Aiden's bookbag onto the floor of his dorm room. "Alright, man, you're all set," he said, giving Aiden a friendly nod. "I've taken the last of your mid-term final exams. Unless there's anything else you needed for me to do while I'm in your body, we're clear to swap back."
Tumblr media
The first time Aiden had approached him, offering $200 to swap bodies for an exam... Simon had thought it was some sort of prank. The magical amulet was very real, as it turned out. How Aiden had found the item was unclear, but Simon had quickly learned that Aiden had no moral qualms about inhabiting other people's bodies. He was the fifth generation in a long line of successful businessmen, and so the expectation that money could buy anything he wanted had been hard-coded into Aiden's personality. After all, it bought him admission to a prestigious college and membership into one of the most competitive fraternities. Why couldn't money also buy you the expertise that you needed to succeed?
He fidgeted with the collar of his shirt. "I... actually, I did have a proposition for you," he said, avoiding eye contact. Ever since Aiden had learned that Simon was a gay man, he had been requesting that their quick academic swaps last longer and longer. Aiden was still in the closet, and living Simon's life for an evening allowed him to experience the life he wanted to live while still maintaining his straight-laced reputation.
Simon crossed his arms in annoyance. "I mean, I was planning on spending most of my Spring Break playing video games, but I know you're going to make it worth my time. What were you thinking, the first weekend?"
"The graduating seniors of my fraternity always book an eight day excursion out to the Hamptons. My proposal is that you would attend the trip in my stead."
"Jesus fuck, Aiden!' he yelled, taking a moment to process what he had just heard. "Eight days? Are you serious? This is the first time we'll be swapped for more than 12 hours, and you're just giving me a whole-ass week? What happens if your brothers get suspicious?"
Aiden just rolled his eyes. "Please, we both know I'm massively unpopular in the fraternity. They'll probably find you to be an improvement. Father allocated $20,000 for the week, plus travel and lodging. Anything you don't spend is yours to keep. What do you say?" Seeing his own body make Aiden's characteristic smarmy grin was still a really weird experience.
Tumblr media
"I... Jesus, dude..." Simon would never be able to understand Aiden's detachment from the value of money. "I still can't believe you want to be me so badly. I mean... okay, look... that's tempting as hell, but... it was weird enough knowing that you've taken my body out to the bar scene. I don't know if I'm comfortable letting you live my life for over a week. What if you run into someone I know?"
"Oh, I wasn't planning to stay around here," he said, growing more excited as he began to sway Simon. "I've been preparing this trip for a few months by withdrawing Father's allowance and saving it up in case you said yes. If you give me your body for a week, I'll be flying out to San Francisco. Anyway, don't sell yourself short, this body is fantastic."
Simon shook his head in disbelief. "I mean... I want to argue, but I'd have to be an idiot to leave that much money sitting on the table. Alright, you've bought yourself a Spring Break trip." He picked Aiden's bag back up off the ground as he mentally steeled himself for a week in the life of an out-of-touch social scion. "Alright... do I need any extra information to pull this off, or...?"
Aiden hopped to his feet and wrapped him in an awkward bear hug. "Oh, you're the best. I'll forward you the trip reservations, and I'll change the PIN to my debit card so that you can just use that. See you in a week!"
"Yeah... see you in a week..." Simon echoed. He pulled out Aiden's phone, and scrolled down to the one person in the Fraternity who knew about Simon's secret, Aiden's roommate Grant. "You were right," he said, once Grant picked up the phone. "Aiden offered a swap over Spring Break and it was too good to turn down."
"Hah! Called it!" Grant said, with a triumphant laugh. "I told you you he would. I made certain to emphasize how much pussy all of us were going to be chasing out in the Hamptons, just in case he was on the fence about it."
Simon couldn't help but laugh. "Aiden really hasn't figured out that you're gay after all this time, has he?"
"Of course not, that would involve him paying attention to someone other than himself. And it had better stay that way-- dude's annoying enough without him having some sort of puppy dog crush on me. Anyway, I hope you're ready for a week of rampant debauchery in the Hamptons. Aiden's body is sexy as fuck when literally anyone else is inside of it. And we both know how sexy my body is."
Tumblr media
The incoming text message was the only reason Simon realized that Grant had already hung up, but he was not about to complain about receiving a pic like that.
265 notes · View notes
billthedrake · 24 days
Text
SUGAR DADDY (PART ONE)
I was cooling down from my run, and I was paying more attention to the traffic light to cross. I almost didn't see them.
But the man saw me, a look of embarrassment sweeping his face before the familiar friendly tone won out.
"Luke?" he said.
"Mr. Keenan," I replied automatically, as if the recognition was coming out of my mouth before it hit my brain. Mr. Keenan was my buddy Rich's dad, a successful corporate lawyer or something. I know Rich had issues with his father, made even worse by his parent's divorce, but Mr. K was always beyond nice to me. And truth be told, I always found him incredibly attractive. Tall, handsome, salt and pepper coming in on the temples, kind of like a TV dad. Even now he was in a nice-cut navy suit, dress shirt and no tie.
His blue eyes were taking me in. It had been over three years since I'd last seen the man, since high school graduation, and I'm sure I looked different now. "I almost forgot you went to school here," he said. "Georgetown?" he prompted.
"Yes, sir. They haven't kicked me out yet," I smiled in my self-deprecating way.
It was then that I noticed the woman standing next to him. She couldn't have been any older than me. She was pretty, real pretty, with that sorority girl look. Straight blond hair and big tits for a girl with her trim frame. At least they showed off well in that spaghetti strap cocktail dress she had on. Her high heels didn't get her close to Mr. K's 6'3" height but they added a couple of inches.
I now had a pretty good idea why Rich's parents got divorced.
The man's date was good at hiding her annoyance at my presence but not good enough that I couldn't see that she wanted to get on to where they were going. Part of me couldn't blame her. It was fall, the evening was cool, and she was underdressed for it.
Mike Keenan realized where I was looking and that embarrassed look came back on his face. "Luke, this is Kimberly..." he turned to his girlfriend or date or whatever. "Luke's from back home," he explained. Almost with an emphasis of meaning.
Turning back to me. "We should go, buddy... but it's great running into you, Luke."
"You, too, Mr. Keenan," I said. It was only then that I was self conscious about standing on a busy Georgetown sidewalk in my sweat-drenched running clothes, the cool getting to me now that the exercise was wearing off.
He flashed his trademark smile, like he always did when I came over. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, deftly extracting a business card. "I'm in DC a few nights a week these days. Reach out and we'll catch up, OK?"
"Sure thing, Mr. K," I said, taking the card in my fingers.
Then I watched as my friend's dad and his college-aged girlfriend went walking on to their date spot.
****
"I was gonna ask if you can keep things under wraps about Kimberly," Mr. Keenan said as we waited for our burger at a nice but not overly fancy bistro that DC seemed to have a ton of. I'd met Mr. K closer to his hotel, just two nights after running into him.
"Oh yeah, sure," I said. If the man had asked me to give an alibi to the police for something I probably would have. I mean, Mike Keenan always was great to me, encouraging me in my baseball playing and even helping me out with college admissions stuff, since my folks were more blue collar. His dating life was really none of my business, but I felt like it was conversation worthy. "How long have you two been dating?"
He squirmed in his seat and sighed. "A while... not too long..." he said then gave me a long hard look. "Listen, Luke, you can keep this between us, right?"
The blue eyes and handsome jawline and perfect teeth were gonna make me crush out a little on the man, like I did back in high school. "Absolutely," I replied. Earnest as hell.
He smiled. He could read my sincerity, and I think it amused him. He leaned back and had a soft leer on his face, a side of him I'd never seen. "She's not my girlfriend," he explained. "I met her on one of those sugar daddy sites."
I may have been a dumb jock, but I figured out what he meant pretty quick. "You mean she's a hooker?" I asked. I had to laugh, and Mr. K laughed back.
"No, well, not exactly," he replied. "But there's a little of that, even if we both pretend that's not what's going on." His eyes searched out mine, and I knew he was trying to read if I was freaked out or judgmental. I wasn't, just surprised.
I tried to pass off my shock with a joke. "She expensive?" I said.
He grinned, with a I-can't-believe-you-asked-that look. But he replied anyway. "Very. But I can afford it."
Something about his tone and lecherous nature got me hard. Not chubbed, but full on erect in my jeans.
The man mistook my horniness for a different reaction. "Sorry Luke," he said. "I shouldn't have said that... only you asked."
"No, it's good," I assured him. "Just didn't expect it, is all."
"Fair," he said. He sighed again. "Seriously, Luke, not a fucking word to Rich. Or anyone. I mean it."
"I won't, Mr. K, promise," I assured him. He probably didn't want to talk about it anymore, but I was very curious. "So... how's it work exactly?"
"How's what work?"
"The sugar daddy thing."
He seemed more businesslike. Maybe he enjoyed being able to confide, or maybe he just was humoring me. "I pay for Kimberly's apartment and of course for dates," he explained. "There are gifts, too, but she doesn't make me jump through hoops like some of the others."
I was letting it sink in that this one wasn't Mr. K's first. I knew the guy was loaded, but that kind of money was wild to me.
"Damn, I should get a sugar daddy," I joked.
Without missing a beat, Mr. Keenan shrugged his shoulders and said, "You could. If that's what you wanted."
I blushed. I was still pretty closeted though Rich Keenan knew. Maybe Mike Keenan knew too.
The man seemed to enjoy catching me off guard. "A colleague of mine goes for high-class call boys, but I've been trying to convince him to go for something more legit." This was definitely a new side to Mike Keenan than I'd seen.
He paused. "Sorry, Luke. I'm not really suggesting... You know that, right?" The old Mr. K was back.
"Yeah, Mr. Keenan," I said. I wasn't totally naive, but this evening had already made me feel more green than I wanted.
He held up his empty rocks glass in a gesture for the bartender to bring another. He then turned to me. "You have any special men in your life?"
So Mr. K did know.
I shook my head. "I've hit the apps some," I said with candor. "But no one special."
He patted me on my shoulder, like he used to back when I'd come over to visit Rich. Like a buddy or a dad. "Well, you've grown into a fine young man, Luke Bowman. I'm sure that someone special will come soon... maybe when you're not expecting it."
OK, I was more than a little crushed out.
***
Something about seeing Mr. Keenan was a spark in my life that I needed. I'd spent too much of my college years scared. Scared of getting out there, of meeting men. I liked men who were older. Coach types, though that was out of bounds and not realistic. But I changed the age range on my app profile and decided I was going to be open to engaging with men who turned me on there.
It was hit or miss. I heard from some real obnoxious guys. I went on some dates with a really fucking hot doctor who was great sex but then basically ghosted me. I had a couple of hookups that were good for what they were.
I wasn't being a man-whore exactly, but I enjoyed making up for lost time a little.
Strangely Mr. K became my confidante. I don't know why I thought the man would be homophobic, hell maybe deep down he was, but we each shared a secret with the other. And once he was back in DC for business that spring, I met him every other Wednesday for burgers and beer, depending on my game schedule. I got the increasing feeling that he valued his time with me, since he and Rich didn't get along well these days. The man carried a lot of guilt for his broken marriage, but he'd be the first to admit that he'd probably do the same thing all over again.
"Buddy, college girls are the best," he leered one Spring night as we finished our meal. Mr. K let his hair down a LOT with me these days. "I know they don't do anything for ya, Luke, but Jesus, fuck..."
I laughed. I knew Mike Keenan was a grade-A horndog and probably not a good man in that way, but I enjoyed seeing his naughty side.
"You ever think about dating one for real, Mr. K?" I asked. For most of our meetings, it had been mostly my buddy's dad asking me about my life, but it was just now getting to the point where I felt like I could ask personal questions like this.
He shook his head. "It wouldn't work. Besides, I wouldn't do that to Rich." It was a strangely profound admission.
I gulped. Yeah, I could see it from my buddy's perspective, having a stepmother his age, or younger even.
"That's cool, Mr. Keenan. But you gotta live your life, too," I said.
That caught the man off guard. He looked at me then smiled. He reached over and ruffled my hair. "You really think that, dont ya?" he asked.
I nodded, embarrassed.
He grinned. "Don't worry, kiddo. I'm enjoying my middle age years. A little too much."
"With Kimberly?" I prompted. He hadn't mentioned her in a while.
"I called off that arrangement," he said bluntly. "She wanted more."
"A ring?" I laughed. I didn't get straight people, not really, but at the same time they were my entire world.
That leer returned to the man. "No. More money. I'm taking a break for now."
"How long will that last?" I teased.
"Dunno. A month. Maybe two. Till I get horny again."
"I'm pretty sure you wouldn't have to wait that long to get laid, Mr. K."
It was meant as a playful comment, at least in my head. But the second it came out I realized I'd said too much. That Mr. Keenan could read everything in my face, everything I'd kept hidden. How attracted I was to him, how crushed out I was on him, how jealous I was of Kimberly or whatever sorority chick he was banging.
The look on the man's face could now see it all.
Tears welled up in my eyes and I started getting a panic attack. I stood up from the bar stool. "I should go," I said.
A hand reached out and gripped my forearm. Mr. K's grip was surprisingly strong. "Luke. It's OK."
Somehow, his understanding made it worse. I shook my head and broke free. "Sorry," I muttered. Then made a beeline for the door.
I felt dumb and intensely vulnerable as I walked to the bus stop. I'd messed up this friendship thing I had with Mike Keenan, but maybe it was fucked up that I was hanging out with my friend's dad like this in the first place. No maybe about it: it was majorly fucked up.
I was a block away from the stop when I got a text.
"Can I convince you to come back, Luke?" the man wrote. "I get it buddy."
I knew the smart thing would be to keep walking. To send a polite no thanks reply. Or just ignore the text. Instead I typed. "Yes Mr. K." And I walked back to the restaurant.
Mike Keenan was standing outside, looking handsome as fuck in his expensive suit. He had a worried look on his face, and I knew immediately he'd dashed out after me but didn't know which way I went.
His face brightened when he saw me. "We don't have to stay here," he said. "I settled up."
"Oh," I said. "Sorry..." I started to apologize, but he stopped me.
"You were honest," he said directly, blunt but still friendly. "Besides, what man doesn't like to hear he's attractive?"
I gave a wan smile and hunched my shoulders in a shrug. "A lot of straight men, I imagine."
I couldn't tell if Mike Keenan was just humoring me. He had a look of sympathy on his face for sure as he reached out and patted my arm. "How bout this? No labels between us, Luke?"
I didn't get what he was saying exactly, but I knew it was meant to reassure me. I nodded.
"Feel like coming to my hotel?" he asked. "We can just talk."
"Yeah." I was feeling a ton of emotions coursing through me. But I wanted more Mr. K time. "Sounds nice."
That seemed to relax him and put him in a good mood as we walked the few blocks to the nice, business-class residence hotel where he was staying. I couldn't help but sneak looks over his way. He just looked incredible in his suit, not a trim cut one like younger guys sometimes wore but it still flattered his build and height. In my mind, the suit made him look like one of those DC power players and in some messed up way that turned me on.
We weren't too chatty as he led me up to his room. It was fancy to my eyes but had that empty aura that hotel rooms do, even if Mr. K's luggage and belongings were around.
I was looking around the place when the man stepped up right behind me and wrapped his arms around my midsection. I smelled his cologne and felt his kisses along my neck. I guess we were going to do more than just talk.
"Oh, God, Mr. K," I hissed. This probably a record time for how fast I could throw hard. That boner was nearly instant.
"You can call me Mike," he said.
"OK," I said dumbly.
His hands traveled up and down my T-shirt. I was primed to be turned on by this man, but he was going to put me in heat.
"You OK with this, buddy?"
"You have no idea, Mist.. Mike" I replied.
My slip up got a chuckle from him. His fingers slipped beneath the hem of my shirt and the touch of his hand against my belly felt electric. "You have an amazing body, Luke."
"You too, sir," I replied.
He kissed some more along my neck and his voice got deeper, hoarser. "Do you suck cock, Luke Bowman?"
The grunt from the man was an indication I'd said the right thing. "I don't know that I'm good for all the other stuff," he said, "but I'd REALLY love to feel your mouth on me, buddy."
I knew what he meant. The man wasn't going to reciprocate, and I'd have to be fine with that. I was. "I don't need anything in return, Mike," I said. "I want to suck you."
He had that huge horndog grin on his face when I finally turned to face him. We were matched in height but he felt like my opposite in so many ways. Older, successful in his career, straight, though I was getting the fuller meaning of his "no labels" comment.
Especially as his face inched in and his lips met mine. I was kissing Rich Keenan's dad and the forbidden nature of that just added to my thrill. I took a second to feel up his sides, under the suit coat. Mr. K didn't object, he just went deeper with the kiss. Mike Keenan was a great kisser.
"You're a very handsome young man," Mr. K finally said as he pulled back.
"God, Mike," I grunted. This was every JO fantasy I'd had coming to life.
With that naughty look on his face, he reached down and started unzipping. I didn't even look down, not yet, but I could tell from his shoulder motion that he was hauling out his cock.
"Please, buddy," he hissed.
"Here?" I asked dumbly. In my hookups before BJs had been naked and on a bed.
"Here," he growled. This was that other side of Mr. K, the kind who hired sugar babies to get his needs taken care of.
I squatted down. I was a catcher for the Hoyas baseball team, so at least I had this motion down, I thought to myself.
Mike Keenan's cock was gorgeous. Big and meaty and cut but not overly long. It jerked and pulsed as he looked down on me.
"You done this before, right?" he asked. That concerned paternal voice coming out.
I nodded. "Some," I replied. "I wish I had more practice." Then with an honesty I probably shouldn't have had, I added, "I want this to be good for you, Mike."
He chucked and moved his hand to run through my hair. It was strangely affectionate. "You'll do great, buddy."
That was all the encouragement I needed. Leaning in, I could smell the mild, natural musk of a man's crotch, which was matched by Mr. K's saltiness as I began licking him. I gripped the base of his prick to steady it for my sucking, but I maybe didn't even need to do that. Mike was rock hard.
"Yes..." he hissed as I went down on him. I was still pretty green at sucking cock, but I was probably better than Kimberly or whatever sugar baby he'd lined up in the past. Or even the former Mrs. Keenan, I thought crudely.
That knowledge had me going for it. I swallowed four inches of the man in one go, held just a second to let my throat get used to it. Then I started going up and down. It took a second for me to get my rhythm and another for me to get the suction. But I knew I did by the urgency of the man's fingers in my hair, not exactly pushing me down on his crotch but aiding and guiding me in my bobbing motion. He was probably thinking of some chick while I blew him, but I was OK with that.
Only his next words broke me of that idea. "Luke, buddy... you're getting me there," he hissed. Mr. K was very present in this blowjob. I paused a second and looked up at him, and could see he was looking down at me.
I wanted to get him off. So I looked back forward and went for it. The best I could deliver. I hoped it was enough.
The fingers grew tighter. "Gonna cum... Don't pull off," Mike growled. "Please."
At that moment I felt bad for straight men. Even if I should have felt bad that Mr. K wasn't gonna suck me. I just felt any woman was stupid not to want to swallow Mike Keenan's cum.
"UNNFH!" came the sound of his release as he flooded my mouth and throat with his salty-sweet cum. Maybe Mike was backed up, but he was a heavy shooter all right. I accepted it all, swallowing it in waves as quickly as he fed it to me. I think my sucking sensation only added to his orgasm. He finally pulled out, prick wet and still hard.
"God fucking damn, buddy, that was great," he said with a satisfied smile. Then as he caught his breath and I stood up, he added, "Can I jerk you off or anything?"
That sounded great. "You got any lube?"
He nodded and walked over to the bathroom to root around his toiletries bag. He stepped back in, his prick softer but still sticking out. With a grin, he tossed me travel container of lube. "Don't be shy," he said.
I was already undoing my shorts, which fell to the floor. Then I peeled down my underwear, letting Mike see my hardon. It was a trip for me, being mostly naked in front of him. Maybe he wasn't gonna be fully gay for me, but he was open to seeing my dick as I squirted the liquid on my stalk and start stroking.
With a grin he stepped up to me, a little to the side, placing his hand on my belly and working up beneath my shirt as he met me for a kiss.
That's all it took. I didn't come instantly but instantly I began that climb to orgasm. Mr. Keenan's kiss and touch was the extra stimulation to get me there.
I moaned into his mouth as I shot my cum, shooting out onto the hotel carpet.
He broke the kiss when I was done and patted my chest. "You needed that, buddy," he said with satisfaction.
"I did," I nodded. "Thanks."
Things felt a little awkward now. I'd crossed some major lines with this guy that evening, and now that I'd gotten off I felt majorly self conscious about it.
"You OK, Luke?" he asked as we tucked back in.
"I'm OK, Mr. Keenan."
"You can NEVER tell Rich about what just happened," he said.
"You know I'm gonna keep everything private," I said. "You can trust me."
He nodded. "Why don't you get cleaned up. Feel like a drink? I have some scotch here or you can raid the mini bar."
I nodded. "I don't know anything about scotch, but you can teach me."
He chuckled. "All right."
It felt nice to just talk. Mr. K let me open up, about men and being gay and what I really wanted from dating and sex. The man talked about his very limited experience with guys when he was a teen.
"I should have figured men would be better at giving head," he said with a playful leer. "That was incredible, Luke. For real."
"I'm glad," I said. Maybe this wasn't a healthy hookup, but it had felt incredibly satisfying for me, a dream come true.
"You're going to make some dude VERY happy," he said with a smile.
"I hope so," I said with a defensive chuckle. "I hope he makes me happy too."
Mr. Keenan got what I meant. "Yeah, you deserve that," he said a little chastised. He polished off the last of his liquor in the rocks glass. "Listen, it's been a long day."
"Yeah, I'll head off," I said, drinking the rest of my scotch and standing up.
Mr. K pulled his walled out and fished out a couple of twenties. "Here you go... you're not taking the bus back. Especially at this hour."
I tried not to take it. "It's Ok, Mike," I said.
He shook his head. "Just get a fucking Uber, Luke. I insist."
"OK," I said, capitulating. The man could be bossy, and I didn't know whether I liked that or not.
He was quieter now, as he led me to the door but he said before I stepped out. "I'm gonna sleep like a baby tonight, buddy. Thanks."
"You too, sir."
293 notes · View notes
guccifrog · 2 months
Text
WRONG NUMBER P12
matt sturniolo x f!reader
Tumblr media
idk what to feel about this one tbh 🤓
y/n's pov
"Here," Chris said handing me a soda can, I took it and nodded my thanks. We've been all sitting in the waiting room for the past four hours, since I got to the hospital first thing in the morning, no one was allowed to see Matt. My heart felt like it was going to jump out of my chest, every time the doctors opened the door.
Nick sat wide awake, his head resting on my shoulder as I stroked his hair back from his forehead. His eyes never left the door, and every time it swung open, he tensed. Chris was sitting on the floor next to us, his head in his hands. He kept checking his phone, only to sigh and put it away again. The triplets' mom, whose name I learned was Marylou, sat across from us with their dad. Her eyes were red from crying, but she tried to keep a brave face on for her kids.
The clock on the wall ticked loudly, the seconds seeming to drag on for an eternity. I glanced at Nick, trying to think of something to say to take his mind off the waiting, but every time I opened my mouth, my voice caught in my throat.
Marylou shifted in her seat and glanced at me, then back at her Nick. She caught my eye for a moment and gave me a small, sad smile. I really wanted to go over and hug her, to tell her that everything would be okay, but I didn't know what to say to someone who was facing what they were facing.
The door suddenly opened, and a doctor came out, her expression serious. My stomach clenched in fear as she walked over to us. "I'm sorry to say," she began, her voice quiet but firm, "that the surgery was not successful." Nick's head shot up, his eyes wide with disbelief. "The patient has sustained too much damage, and his organs have begun to shut down. We've done everything we can, but…" She trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.
I felt like the world had stopped spinning as the doctor spoke those words. Is that it? Is this how it ends? it's that simple?
Nick started to shake uncontrollably, his eyes filling with tears. He buried his face in my shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably. I wrapped my arms around him, unable to believe what I was hearing. Chris threw his arms around us both, sobbing into Nick's hair. Marylou and her husband both cried silently, their faces twisted in pain.
"Can we at least see him?" Marylou asked, her voice shaking. The doctor nodded, motioning for us to follow her. Nick clung to me, as we walked down the hall. I squeezed his hand reassuringly, wishing there was something I could do to make this better.
The room was dimly lit, and machines were beeping in the background. The hospital bed was elevated, and a body lay under the thin white sheet. Nick's body went limp in my arms as he realized it was his brother. His sobs grew louder. Chris squeezed past us, falling to his knees beside the bed. He reached out and pulled the sheet back.
"What the fuck?" I gasped as I looked at the body that was under the sheet. That's not Matt, it's someone else. It was an old man's body. The room spun, and I felt like I was going to throw up. "Oh my god," I heard Chris say, his voice cracking. "Is this some kind of joke?"
Nick was still sobbing into my shoulder, oblivious to what had just happened. Marylou knelt beside the bed, her hands clutching the sheets. The doctor walked over to us, her expression grim. "We're so sorry, There's been a mix-up. We'll go find your son immediately." She turned and practically ran out of the room. Nick looked up from my shoulder, confused. "What do you mean, a mix-up?"
Chris, still staring at the body on the bed, said, "I don't understand. That's not Matt. I'm sure that this isn't even his room." He turned to the other doctor. "Who's body is that?"
The doctor paused, his face pale. "I…I don't know. The records show that he was supposed to be here, but…it's not him." He looked at us, his eyes filled with fear and regret. "I'm so sorry, we'll try to fix this"
Nick pulled away from me, his face a mix of anger and disbelief. "Fix this? How do you fix something like this?!" He pointed to the body on the bed. "That's not my fucking brother! Where is he?!"
Marylou took a deep breath and tried to calm him down. "Nick, we need to stay calm. The doctor is going to find out what happened and make sure Matt is okay. Let's just try to wait here." She squeezed his hand, but he pulled it away, pacing back and forth.
The doctor returned a short while later, her expression grave. "We've identified the body as belonging to a man named Matthew Williams. He was admitted to the hospital under a false name, and the records were somehow switched with your son's. We've notified the police, and they're investigating the situation." I stared at her, My face a mask of disbelief and horror. "I am so, so sorry for this mistake. We'll do everything we can to find your son and get this sorted out."
Nick collapsed into a chair, his head in his hands. Chris knelt beside him, trying to comfort him. Marylou looked from Nick to the doctor, her face pale. "Do you have any idea where our son might be?" she asked, her voice shaking. The doctor shook her head, her expression pained."Not yet. We'll alert all the hospitals in the area and work with the police to locate him as quickly as possible."
As the minutes turned into hours, the waiting room seemed to close in on them. Nick paced back and forth, unable to sit still. Chris tried to stay calm, but the anxiety was evident in his voice when he spoke to the doctors. Marylou sat in a chair, her face pale. The silence was broken only by the occasional sob from Nick or the beeping of the machines in the hallway.
taglist :
@mattestrella @chrisfavoritepepsi @sunsetsturniolos @littlebookworm803 @sturniozo @sturniolooooo @athaliahxoxo @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ev3rgreenxtrees @nonamegirlxsturniolo @crybabycat1 @mooniethesimp31 @ducksturniolo @ifilwtmfc @pepsiimaxx @sleepysturnss @lustfulslxt @ilovemattsworld @hrt-attack @flowerxbunnie @leprechaunbirthdaygirl @secret-sturniolo @iluvmeeen @that-general-simp @swangelss @familynotfandom @fuckshitslover @styles-sturniolo @lvr-111 @opheliaofficial07 @kiarastromboli
332 notes · View notes
xjulixred45x · 1 month
Note
When I think about Yandere Gojo I suddenly remember that Veronica open the door meme that used to float around in tiktok. So inspired by that may I pleasw get a Yandere Gojo request where his darling locked themselves in the closet and refusing to come out.
Maybe i could make a Drabble of this one of You're comfortable? This is such a good idea for a scenerio
Thanks for the Request!
Yandere! Satoru Gojo x Reader: Open the Door
-"knock knock"-
Reader had hurriedly entered their apartment, after having run for entire blocks, dodging people and constantly looking behind them since they had managed to leave Gojo's house. The one they were sure had been left unconscious by the seal they had managed to put on him.
But as soon as they heard those words as they closed the door, they knew they had to run again.
and they did it.
-"I'm sorry for entering through your window! Horrible manners, but you know how I am~"-
they heard him speak as he futilely fled to their almost empty room, since most of his things were in Gojo's house, they closed the door and left to the first place that came to their mind--
The closet.
If you can't beat him, at least entertain him so he doesn't kill you. they thought.
Satoru walked slowly towards his partner's room, seeing them without problem through the blindfold. He didn't feel afraid, he wasn't even a little worried, he knew they couldn't run away from him. much less now.
Although he admitted it, watching them try even knowing how futile it is was quite funny, look at them, pretty little thing, thinking they have a chance, hiding in the closet like a scared child. But there's nothing to worry about! He is here after all.
He entered to the room, turning his back to them as he sat on the floor.
-"Now now, (reader), why don't you just go out and we go home? You must be hungry after having run so much."-
-"GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!! THE DEPARTMENT ALARM RINGED AND THE POLICE WILL COME!"-
-"we'll be gone by then..come on! you had your moment of "freedom"! come out and we'll forget about this-"--"why?"- (reader) abruptly cut off Satoru, surprising him, but no more than their question. .
-"Why what?...no, wait, I know what you mean"-
Satoru never understood many of his partner's actions.
The feeling was mutual.
Why did they reject his affection? Why didn't they see that he did all this for them? Why don't they just accept that they are meant to be his?
...why was Satoru doing this to them?
-"I am meant to be yours... and you are meant to be MINE...I am everything you need!"-
Satoru was a little surprised to receive no response after that. So he continued talking, waiting for a reaction or at least, that they would get fed up with what he was saying and respond to him.
-"I FINALLY met someone who gives me these kinds of emotions... even if you don't like this I'M NOT GOING TO GIVE UP ON YOU" - Satoru expected to hear even a sob from (the reader) but he was greeted again by the silence of the aisle..
-"You KNEW that I couldn't live without you! YOU forced me to do this! I can't do it alone! Why is it so HARD for you to accept me?!"- Satoru said as he turned around abruptly, losing his patience.
But then he noticed something that made him feel a strange sensation in his stomach, as he saw that through the closet door, (reader)'s body temperature was decreasing....
NO.....
-"(READER)!- open the- open the door please! (READER)! open the door!"-
No response.
-"(READER) can we forget that this happened and go back home? Can you say something...?"-
Satoru was in front of the closet doors, with his hands shaking as he tried to get (Reader) to answer him without success. He could see they were there but something was very wrong...
-"(READER) YOU'RE SCARED! I GET IT! NOW STOP THE TRICKS AND OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!"- Satoru stood up from his kneeling position and prepared himself in case (reader) moved. They did not.
-"(READER) DON'T MAKE ME GET IN THERE! I'M GOING TO COUNT TO 3!!--
1-
2--
FUCK IT!"
Satoru didn't even have to move a muscle for the closet door to shatter in front of him, leaving (reader) exposed.
-"THE GAMES ARE OVER!"-
(Reader) had put a belt around their neck as tight as possible to try to kill themselves.
Fortunately or unfortunately, Satoru broke the belt too. They were practically unconscious, barely breathing, but it was fine. They were going to be fine.
Satoru felt that strange feeling disappear and a soft sensation came to him. Seeing them so helpless, he stretched out his hand and caressed their cheek lovingly.
Aw...what a scare they gave him...he will definitely have to take care of them more now. Maybe spend more time with them so they don't feel bad, especially after this, they're going to need it. Both.
-"NOW...let's go home, shall we?"-
Tumblr media
Shares, reglogs and comments are very welcome!
190 notes · View notes